this ebook was produced by david widger <widger@cecomet.net> [note: there is a short list of bookmarks, or pointers, at the end of the file for those who may wish to sample the author's ideas before making an entire meal of them. d.w.] cleopatra by georg ebers volume 5. chapter xii. barine had been an hour in the palace. the magnificently furnished room to which she was conducted was directly above the council chamber, and sometimes, in the silence of the night, the voice of the queen or the loud cheers of men were distinctly heard. barine listened without making the slightest effort to catch the meaning of the words which reached her ears. she longed only for something to divert her thoughts from the deep and bitter emotion which filled her soul. ay, she was roused to fury, and yet she felt how completely this passionate resentment contradicted her whole nature. true, the shameless conduct of philostratus during their married life had often stirred the inmost depths of her placid, kindly spirit, and after wards his brother alexas had come to drive her, by his disgraceful proposals, to the verge of despair; rage was added to the passionate agitation of her soul, and for this she had cause to rejoice--but for this mighty resentment during the time of struggle she might have, perhaps, succumbed from sheer weariness and the yearning desire to rest. at last, at last, she and her friends, by means of great sacrifices, had succeeded in releasing her from these tortures. philostratus's consent to liberate her was purchased. alexas's persecution had ceased long before; he had first been sent away as envoy by his patron antony, and afterwards been compelled to accompany him to the war. how she had enjoyed the peaceful days in her mother's house! how quickly the bright cheerfulness which she had supposed lost had returned to her soul!--and to-day fate had blessed her with the greatest happiness life had ever offered. true, she had had only a few brief hours in which to enjoy it, for the attack of the unbridled boys and the wound inflicted upon her lover had cast a heavy shadow on her bliss. her mother had again proved to be in the right when she so confidently predicted a second misfortune which would follow the first only too soon. barine had been torn at midnight from her peaceful home and her wounded lover's bedside. this was done by the queen's command, and, full of angry excitement, she said to herself that the men were right who cursed tyranny because it transformed free human beings into characterless chattels. there could be nothing good awaiting her; that was proved by the messengers whom cleopatra had sent to summon her at this unprecedented hour. they were her worst enemies: iras, who desired to wed her lover-dion had told her so after the assault--and alexas, whose suit she had rejected in a way which a man never forgives. she had already learned iras's feelings. the slender figure with the narrow head, long, delicate nose, small chin, and pointed fingers, seemed to her like a long, sharp thorn. this strange comparison had entered her head as iras stood rigidly erect, reading aloud in a shrill, high voice the queen's command. everything about this hard, cold face appeared as sharp as a sting, and ready to destroy her. her removal from her mother's house to the royal palace had been swift and simple. after the attack--of which she saw little, because, overpowered by fear and horror, she closed her eyes--she had driven home with her lover, where the leech had bandaged his injuries, and berenike had quickly and carefully transformed her own sleeping chamber into a sick-room. barine, after changing her dress, did not leave dion's side. she had attired herself carefully, for she knew his delight in outward adornment. when she returned from her grandparents, before sunset, she was alone with him, and he, kissing her arm, had murmured that wherever the greek tongue was spoken there was not one more beautiful. the gem was worthy of its loveliness. so she had opened her baggage to take out the circlet which antony had given, and it again enclasped her arm when she entered the sick-room. because dion had told her that he deemed her fairest in the simple white robe she had worn a few days before, when there were no guests save himself and gorgias, and she had sung until after midnight his favourite songs as though all were intended for him alone, her choice had fallen upon this garment. and she rejoiced that she had worn it--the wounded man's eyes rested upon her so joyously when she sat down opposite to him. the physician had forbidden him to talk, and urged him to sleep if possible. so barine only held his hand in silence, whispering, whenever he opened his eyes, a tender word of love and encouragement. she had remained with him for hours, leaving her place at his side merely to give him his medicine, or, with her mother's aid, place poultices on his wounds. when his manly face was distorted by suffering, she shared his pain; but during most of the time a calm, pleasant sense of happiness pervaded her mind. she felt safe and sheltered in the possession of the man whom she loved, though fully aware of the perils which threatened him, and, perhaps, her also. but the assurance of his love completely filled her heart and cast every care entirely into the shade. many men had seemed estimable and agreeable, a few even desirable husbands, but dion was the first to awaken love in her ardent but by no means passionate soul. she regarded the experiences of the past few days as a beautiful miracle. how she had yearned and pined until the most fervent desire of her heart was fulfilled! now dion had offered her his love, and nothing could rob her of it. gorgias and the sons of her uncle arius had disturbed her a short time. after they had gone with a good report, berenike had entreated her daughter to lie down and let her take her place. but barine would not leave her lover's couch, and had just loosed her hair to brush it again and fasten the thick, fair braids around her head, when, two hours after midnight, some one knocked loudly on the window shutters. berenike was in the act of removing the poultice, so barine herself went into the atrium to wake the doorkeeper. but the old man was not asleep, and had anticipated her. she recognized, with a low cry of terror, the first person who entered the lighted vestibule--alexas. iras followed, her head closely muffled, for the storm was still howling through the streets. last of all a lanternbearer crossed the threshold. the syrian saluted the startled young beauty with a formal bow, but iras, without a greeting or even a single word of preparation, delivered the queen's command, and then read aloud, by the light of the lantern, what cleopatra had scrawled upon the wax tablet. when barine, pallid and scarcely able to control her emotion, requested the messengers who had arrived at so late an hour to enter, in order to give her time to prepare for the night drive and take leave of her mother, iras vouchsafed no reply, but, as if she had the right to rule the house, merely ordered the doorkeeper to bring his mistress's cloak without delay. while the old man, with trembling knees, moved away, iras asked if the wounded dion was in the dwelling; and barine, her self-control restored by the question, answered, with repellent pride, that the queen's orders did not command her to submit to an examination in her own house. iras shrugged her shoulders and said, sneeringly, to alexas: "in truth, i asked too much. one who attracts so many men of all ages can scarcely be expected to know the abode of each individual." "the heart has a faithful memory," replied the syrian in a tone of correction, but iras echoed, contemptuously, "the heart!" then all were silent until, instead of the doorkeeper, berenike herself came hurrying in, bringing the cloak. with pallid face and bloodless lips she wrapped it around her daughter's shoulders, whispering, amid floods of tears, almost inaudible words of love and encouragement, which iras interrupted by requesting barine to follow her to the carriage. the mother and daughter embraced and kissed each other, then the closed equipage bore the persecuted woman through the storm and darkness to lochias. not a word was exchanged between barine and the queen's messengers until they reached the room where the former was to await cleopatra; but here iras again endeavoured to induce her to speak. at the first question, however, barine answered that she had no information to give. the room was as bright as if it were noonday, though the lights flickered constantly, for the wind found its way through the thin shutters closing the windows on both sides of the corner room, and a strong, cold draught swept in. barine wrapped her cloak more closely around her; the storm which howled about the sea-washed palace harmonized with the vehement agitation of her soul. whether she had looked within or without, there was nothing which could have soothed her save the assurance of being loved--an assurance that held fear at bay. now, indignation prevented dread from overpowering her, yet calm consideration could not fail to show her that danger threatened on every hand. the very manner in which iras and alexas whispered together, without heeding her presence, boded peril, for courtiers show such contempt only to those whom they know are threatened with the indifference or resentment of the sovereign. barine, during her married life with a man devoid of all delicacy of feeling, and with a disposition as evil as his tongue was ready, had learned to endure many things which were hard to bear; yet when, after a remark from iras evidently concerning her, she heard alexas laugh, she was compelled to exert the utmost self-restraint to avoid telling her enemy how utterly she despised the cowardly cruelty of her conduct. but she succeeded in keeping silent. still, the painful constraint she imposed on herself must find vent in some way, and, as the tortured anguish of her soul reached its height, large tears rolled down her cheeks. these, too, were noticed by her enemy and made the target of her wit; but this time the sarcasm failed to produce its effect upon the syrian, for, instead of laughing, he grew grave, and whispered something which seemed to barine a reproof or a warning. iras's reply was merely a contemptuous shrug of the shoulders. barine had noticed long before that her mother, in her fear and bewilderment, had brought her own cloak instead of her daughter's, and this circumstance also did not seem to her foe too trivial for a sneer. but the childish insolence that seemed to have taken possession of one who usually by no means lacked dignity, was merely the mask beneath which she concealed her own suffering. a grave motive was the source of the mirth by which she affected to be moved at the sight of her enemy's cloak. the grey, ill-fitting garment disfigured barine, and she desired that the queen should feel confident of surpassing her rival even in outward charms. no one, not even cleopatra, could dispense with a protecting wrap in this cold draught, and nothing suited her better than the purple mantle in whose delicate woollen fabric black and gold dragons and griffins were embroidered. iras had taken care that it lay ready. barine could not fail to appear like a beggar in comparison, though alexas said that her blue kerchief was marvellously becoming. he was a base-minded voluptuary, who, aided by rich gifts of mind and wide knowledge, had shunned no means of ingratiating himself with antony, the most lavish of patrons. the repulse which this man, accustomed to success, had received from barine had been hard to forget, yet he did not resign the hope of winning her. never had she seemed more desirable than in her touching weakness. even base natures are averse to witnessing the torture of the defenceless, and when iras had aimed another poisoned shaft at her, he ventured, at the risk of vexing his ally, to say, under his breath: "condemned criminals are usually granted, before their end, a favourite dish. i have no cause to wish barine anything good; but i would not grudge that. you, on the contrary, seem to delight in pouring wormwood on her last mouthful." "certainly," she answered, her eyes sparkling brightly. "malice is the purest of pleasures; at least to me, when exercised on this woman." the syrian, with a strange smile, held out his hand, saying: "keep your good-will towards me, iras." "because," she retorted with a sneer, "evil may follow my enmity. i think so, too. i am not especially sensitive concerning myself, but whoever dares"--here she raised her voice--"to harm one whom i--just listen to the cheers! how she carries all hearts with her! though fate had made her a beggar, she would still be peerless among women. she is like the sun. the clouds which intrude upon her pathway of radiance are consumed and disappear." while uttering the last sentence she had turned towards barine, whose ear the sharp voice again pierced like a thorn, as she commanded her to prepare for the examination. almost at the same moment the door, caught by the wind, closed with a loud bang. the "introducer"--[marshal of the court.]--had opened it, and, after a hasty glance, exclaimed: "the audience will not be given in this meeting place for all the winds of heaven! her majesty desires to receive her late visitor in the hall of shells." with these words he bowed courteously to barine, and ushered her and her two companions through several corridors and apartments into a wellheated anteroom. here even the windows were thoroughly protected from the storm. several body-guards and pages belonging to the corps of the "royal boys" stood waiting to receive them. "this is comfortable." said alexas, turning to iras. "was the winter we have just experienced intended to fill us with twofold gratitude for the delights of the mild spring in this blessed room?" "perhaps so," she answered sullenly, and then added in a low tone: "here at lochias the seasons do not follow their usual course. they change according to the pleasure of the supreme will. instead of four, the egyptians, as you know, have but three; in the palaces on the nile they are countless. what is the meaning of this sudden entry of summer? winter would have pleased me better." the queen--iras knew not why--had changed her arrangements for barine's reception. this vexed her, and her features assumed a gloomy, threatening expression as the young beauty, casting aside her cloak and kerchief, stood awaiting cleopatra in a white robe of fine material and perfect fit. the thick, fair braids, wound simply around her shapely head, gave her an appearance of almost childish youth, and the sight made iras feel as if she, and cleopatra also, were outwitted. in the dimly lighted atrium of the house near the paneum garden, she had noticed only that barine wore something white. had it been merely a night robe, so much the better. but she might have appeared in her present garb at the festival of isis. the most careful deliberation could have selected nothing more suitable or becoming. and did this vain woman go to rest with costly gold ornaments? else how did the circlet chance to be on her arm? each of cleopatra's charms seemed to iras, who knew them all, like a valuable possession of her own. to see even the least of them surpassed by another vexed her; and to behold in yonder woman a form which she could not deny was no less beautiful, enraged, nay, pierced her to the heart. since she had known that because of barine she could hope for nothing more from the man to whose love she believed she possessed a claim dating from their childhood, she had hated the young beauty. and now to the many things which contributed to increase her hostile mood, was added the disagreeable consciousness that during the last few hours she had treated her contemptibly. had she only seen earlier what her foe's cloak concealed, she would have found means to give her a different appearance. but she must remain as she was; for chairman had already entered. other hours, however, would follow, and if the next did not decide the fate of the woman whom she hated, future ones should. for this purpose she did not need the aid of charmian, her uncle archibius's sister, who had hitherto been a beloved associate and maternal friend. but what had happened? iras fancied that her pleasant features wore a repellent expression which she had never seen before. was this also the singer's fault? and what was the cause? the older woman's manner decided the question whether she should still bestow upon her returned relative the love of a grateful niece. no, she would no longer put any restraint upon herself. charmian should feel that she (iras) considered any favour shown to her foe an insult. to work against her secretly was not in her nature. she had courage to show an enemy her aversion, and she did not fear charmian enough to pursue a different course. she knew that the artist leonax, barine's father, had been charmian's lover; but this did not justify her favouring the woman who had robbed her niece of the heart of the man whom she--as charmian knew--had loved from childhood. charmian had just had a long conversation with her brother, and had also learned in the palace that barine had been summoned to the queen's presence in the middle of the night; so, firmly persuaded that evil was intended to the young woman who had already passed through so many agitating scenes of joy and sorrow, she entered the waiting-room, and her pleasant though no longer youthful face, framed in smooth, grey hair, was greeted by barine as the shipwrecked mariner hails the sight of land. all the emotions which had darkened and embittered her soul were soothed. she hastened towards her friend's sister, as a frightened child seeks its mother, and charmian perceived what was stirring in her heart. it would not do, under existing circumstances, to kiss her in the palace, but she drew leonax's daughter towards her to show iras that she was ready to extend a protecting hand over the persecuted woman. but barine gazed at her with pleading glances, beseeching aid, whispering amid her tears: "help me, charmian. she has tortured, insulted, humiliated me with looks and words--so cruelly, so spitefully! help me; i can bear no more." charmian shook her kind head and urged her in a whisper to calm herself. she had robbed iras of her lover; she should remember that. cost what it might, she must not shed another tear. the queen was gracious. she, charmian, would aid her. everything would depend on showing herself to cleopatra as she was, not as slander represented her. she must answer her as she would archibius or herself. the kindly woman, as she spoke, stroked her brow and eyes with maternal tenderness, and barine felt as if goodness itself had quelled the tempest in her soul. she gazed around her as though roused from a troubled dream, and now for the first time perceived the richly adorned room in which she stood, the admiring glances of the boys in the macedonian corps of pages, and the bright fire blazing cheerily on the hearth. the howling of the storm increased the pleasant sense of being under a firm roof, and iras, who had whispered to the "introducer" at the door, no longer seemed like a sharp thorn or a spiteful demon, but a woman by no means destitute of charm, who repulsed her, but on whom she had inflicted the keenest pang a woman's heart can suffer. then she again thought of her wounded lover at home, and remembered that, whatever might happen, his heart did not belong to iras, but to her alone. lastly, she recalled archibius's description of cleopatra's childhood, and this remembrance was followed by the conviction that the omnipotent sovereign would be neither cruel nor unjust, and that it would depend upon herself to win her favour. charmian, too, was the queen's confidante; and if the manner of iras and alexas had alarmed her, charmian's might well inspire confidence. all these thoughts darted through her brain with the speed of lightning. only a brief time for consideration remained; for, even as she bowed her head on the bosom of her friend, the "introducer" entered the room, crying, "her illustrious majesty will expect those whom she summoned in a few minutes!" soon after a chamberlain appeared, waving a fan of ostrich feathers and, preceded by the court official, they passed through several brilliantly lighted, richly furnished rooms. barine again breathed freely and moved with head erect; and when the wide, lofty folding doors of ebony, against whose deep black surface the inlaid figures of tritons, mermaids, shells, fish, and sea monsters were sharply relieved, she beheld a glittering, magnificent scene, for the hall which cleopatra had chosen for her reception was completely covered with various marine forms, from the shells to coral and starfish. a wide, lofty structure, composed of masses of stalactites and unhewn blocks of stone, formed a deep grotto at the end of the hall, whence peered the gigantic head of a monster whose open jaws formed the fireplace of the chimney. logs of fragrant arabian wood were blazing brightly on the hearth, and the dragon's ruby glass eyes diffused a red light through the apartment which, blended with the rays of the white and pink lamps in the shape of lotus flowers fastened among gold and silver tendrils and groups of sedges on the walls and ceiling, filling the spacious apartment with the soft light whose roseate hue was specially becoming to cleopatra's waxen complexion. several stewards and cup-bearers, the master of the hunt, chamberlains, female attendants, eunuchs, and other court officials were awaiting the queen, and pages who belonged to the macedonian cadet corps of royal boys stood sleepily, with drooping heads, around the small throne of gold, coral, and amber which, placed opposite to the chimney, awaited the sovereign. barine had already seen this magnificent hall, and others still more beautiful in the sebasteum, and the splendour therefore neither excited nor abashed her; only she would fain have avoided the numerous train of courtiers. could it be cleopatra's intention to question her before the eyes of all these men, women, and boys? she no longer felt afraid, but her heart still throbbed quickly. it had beat in the same way in her girlhood, when she was asked to sing in the presence of strangers. at last she heard doors open, and an invisible hand parted the heavy curtains at her right. she expected to see the regent, the keeper of the seal, and the whole brilliantly adorned train of attendants who always surrounded the queen on formal occasions, enter the magnificent hall. else why had it been selected as the scene of this nocturnal trial? but what was this? while she was still recalling the display at the adonis festival, the curtains began to close again. the courtiers around the throne straightened their bowed figures, the pages forgot their fatigue, and all joined in the greek salutation of welcome, and the "life! happiness! health!" with which the egyptians greeted their sovereign. the woman of middle height who now appeared before the curtain, and who, as she crossed the wide hall alone and unattended, seemed to barine even smaller than when surrounded by the gay throng at the adonis festival, must be the queen. ay, it was she! iras was already standing by her side, and charmian was approaching with the "introducer." the women rendered her various little services thus iras took from her shoulders the purple mantle, with its embroidery of black and gold dragons. what an exquisite masterpiece of the loom it must be! all the dangers against which she must defend herself flashed swiftly through barine's mind; yet, for an instant, she felt the foolish feminine desire to see and handle the costly mantle. but iras had already laid it on the arm of one of the waiting maids, and cleopatra now glanced around her, and with a youthful, elastic step approached the throne. once more the feeling of timidity which she had had in her girlhood overpowered barine, but with it came the memory of the garden of epicurus, and archibius's assurance that she, too, would have left the queen with her heart overflowing with warm enthusiasm had not a disturbing influence interposed between them. yet, had this disturbing influence really existed? no. it was created solely by cleopatra's jealous imagination. if she would only permit her to speak freely now, she should hear that antony cared as little for her as she, barine, for the boy caesarion. what prevented her from confessing that her heart was another's? iras had no one to blame save herself if she spoke the truth pitilessly in her presence. cleopatra now turned to the "introducer," waving her hand towards the throne and those who surrounded it. ay, she was indeed beautiful. how bright and clear was the light of her large eyes, in spite of the harassing days through which she had passed and the present night of watching! cleopatra's heart was still elated by the reception of her bold idea of escape, and she approached barine with gentler feelings and intentions. she had chosen a pleasanter room for the interview than the one iras had selected. she desired a special environment to suit each mood, and as soon as she saw the group of courtiers who surrounded the throne she ordered their dismissal. the "introducer," to carry out the usual ceremonial, had commanded their presence in the audience chamber, but their attendance had given the meeting a form which was now distasteful to the queen. she wished to question, not to condemn. at so happy an hour it was a necessity of her nature to be gracious. perhaps she had been unduly anxious concerning this singer. it even seemed probable; for a man who loved her like antony could scarcely yearn for the favour of another woman. this view had been freshly confirmed by a brief conversation with the chief inspector of sacrifices, an estimable old man, who, after hearing how antony had hurried in pursuit of her at actium, raised his eyes and hands as if transported with rapture, exclaiming: "unhappy queen! yet happiest of women! no one was ever so ardently beloved; and when the tale is told of the noble trojan who endured such sore sufferings for a woman's sake, future generations will laud the woman whose resistless spell constrained the greatest man of his day, the hero of heroes, to cast aside victory, fame, and the hope of the world's sovereignty, as mere worthless rubbish." posterity, whose verdict she dreaded--this wise old reader of the future was right--must extol her as the most fervently beloved, the most desirable of women. and mark antony? even had the magic power of nektanebus's goblet forced him to follow her and to leave the battle, there still remained his will, a copy of which--received from rome--zeno, the keeper of the seal, had showed to her at the close of the council. "wherever he might die," so ran the words, "he desired to be buried by the side of cleopatra." octavianus had wrested it from the vestal virgins, to whose care it had been entrusted, in order to fill the hearts of roman citizens and matrons with indignation against his foe. the plot had succeeded, but the document had reminded cleopatra that her heart had given this man the first of its flowers, that love for him had been the sunshine of her life. so, with head erect, she had crossed the threshold where she was to meet the woman who had ventured to sow tares in her garden. she intended to devote only a short time to the interview, which she anticipated with the satisfaction of the strong who are confident of victory. as she approached the throne, her train left the hall; the only persons who remained were charmian, iras, zeno, the keeper of the seal, and the "introducer." cleopatra cast a rapid glance at the throne, to which an obsequious gesture of the courtier's hand invited her; but she remained standing, gazing keenly at barine. was it the coloured rays from the ruby eyes of the dragon in the fireplace which shed the roseate glow on cleopatra's cheeks? it certainly enhanced the beauty of a face now only too frequently pallid and colourless, when rouge did not lend its aid; but barine understood archibius's ardent admiration for this rare woman, when cleopatra, with a faint smile, requested her to approach. nothing more winning could be imagined than the frank kindness, wholly untinged by condescending pride, of this powerful sovereign. the less barine had expected such a reception the more deeply it moved her; nay, her eyes grew dim with grateful emotion, which lent them so beautiful a lustre, she looked so lovely in her glad surprise, that cleopatra thought the months which had elapsed since her first meeting with the singer had enhanced her charms. and how young she was! the queen swiftly computed the years which barine must have lived as the wife of philostratus, and afterwards as the attractive mistress of a hospitable house, and found it difficult to reconcile the appearance of this blooming young creature with the result of the calculation. she was surprised, too, to note the aristocratic bearing whose possession no one could deny the artist's daughter. this was apparent even in her dress, yet iras had roused her in the middle of the night, and certainly had given her no time for personal adornment. she had expected lack of refinement and boldness, in the woman who was said to have attracted so many men, but even the most bitter prejudice could have detected no trace of it. on the contrary, the embarrassment which she could not yet wholly subdue lent her an air of girlish timidity. all in all, barine was a charming creature, who bewitched men by her vivacity, her grace, and her exquisite voice, not by coquetry and pertness. that she possessed unusual mental endowments cleopatra did not believe. barine had only one advantage over her--youth. time had not yet robbed the former of a single charm, while from the queen he had wrested many; their number was known only to herself and her confidantes, but at this hour she did not miss them. barine, with a low, modest bow, advanced towards the queen, who commenced the conversation by graciously apologizing for the late hour at which she had summoned her. "but," she added, "you belong to the ranks of the nightingales, who during the night most readily and exquisitely reveal to us what stirs their hearts--" barine gazed silently at the floor a moment, and when she raised her eyes her voice was faint and timid. "i sing, it is true, your majesty, but i have nothing else in common with the birds. the wings which, when a child, bore me wherever i desired, have lost their strength. they do not wholly refuse their service, but they now require favourable hours to move." "i should not have expected that in the time of your youth, your most beautiful possession," replied the queen. "yet it is well. i too--how long ago it seems!--was a child, and my imagination outstripped even the flight of the eagle. it could dare the risk unpunished. now----whoever has reached mature life is wise to let these wings remain idle. the mortal who ventures to use them may easily approach too near the sun, and, like icarus, the wax will melt from his pinions. let me tell you this: to the child the gift of imagination is nourishing bread. in later years we need it only as salt, as spice, as stimulating wine. doubtless it points out many paths, and shows us their end; but, of a hundred rambles to which it summons him, scarcely one pleases the mature man. no troublesome parasite is more persistently and sharply rebuffed. who can blame the ill-treated friend if it is less ready to serve us as the years go on? the wise man will keep his ears ever open, but rarely lend it his active hand. to banish it from life is to deprive the plant of blossoms, the rose of its fragrance, the sky of its stars." "i have often said the same things to myself, though in a less clear and beautiful form, when life has been darkened," replied barine, with a faint blush; for she felt that these words were doubtless intended to warn her against cherishing too aspiring wishes. "but, your majesty, here also the gods place you, the great queen, far above us. we should often find existence bare indeed but for the fancy which endows us with imaginary possessions. you have the power to secure a thousand things which to us common mortals only the gift of imagination pictures as attainable." "you believe that happiness is like wealth, and that the happiest person is the one who receives the largest number of the gifts of fortune," answered the queen. "the contrary, i think, can be easily proved. the maxim that the more we have the less we need desire, is also false, though in this world there are only a certain number of desirable things. he who already possesses one of ten solidi which are to be divided, ought really to desire only nine, and therefore would be poorer by a wish than another who has none. true, it cannot be denied that the gods have burdened or endowed me with a greater number of perishable gifts than you and many others. you seem to set a high value upon them. doubtless there may be one or another which you could appropriate only by the aid of the imagination. may i ask which seems to you the most desirable?" "spare me the choice, i beseech you," replied barine in an embarrassed tone. "i need nothing from your treasures, and, as for the other possessions i lack many things; but it is uncertain how the noblest and highest gifts in the possession of the marvellously endowed favourite of the gods would suit the small, commonplace ones i call mine, and i know not--" "a sensible doubt!" interrupted the queen. "the lame man, who desired a horse, obtained one, and on his first ride broke his neck. the only blessing--the highest of all--which surely bestows happiness can neither be given away nor transferred from one to another. he who has gained it may be robbed of it the next moment." the last sentence had fallen from the queen's lips slowly and thoughtfully, but barine, remembering archibius's tale, said modestly, "you are thinking of the chief good mentioned by epicurus--perfect peace of mind." cleopatra's eyes sparkled with a brighter light as she asked eagerly, "do you, the granddaughter of a philosopher, know the system of the master?" "very superficially, your majesty. my intellect is far inferior to yours. it is difficult for me thoroughly to comprehend all the details of any system of philosophy." "yet you have attempted it?" "others endeavoured to introduce me into the doctrines of the stoics. i have forgotten most of what i learned; only one thing lingered in my memory, and i know why--because it pleased me." "and that?" "was the wise law of living according to the dictates of our own natures. the command to shun everything contradictory to the simple fundamental traits of our own characters pleased me, and wherever i saw affectation, artificiality, and mannerism i was repelled, while from my grandfather's teaching i drew the principle that i could do nothing better than to remain, so far as life would permit, what i had been as a child ere i had heard the first word of philosophy, or felt the constraint which society and its forms impose." "so the system of the stoics leads to this end also!" cried the queen gaily, and, turning to the companion of her own studies, she added: "did you hear, charmian? if we had only succeeded in perceiving the wisdom and calm, purposeful order of existence which the stoics, amid so much that is perverse, unhealthy, and provocative of contradiction, nevertheless set above everything else! how can i, in order to live wisely, imitate nature, when in her being and action i encounter so much that is contradictory to my human reason, which is a part of the divine?" here she hesitated, and the expression of her face suddenly changed. she had advanced close to barine and, while standing directly in front of her, her eyes had rested on the gem which adorned her arm above the elbow. was it this which agitated cleopatra so violently that her voice lost its bewitching melody, as she went on in a harsh, angry tone?--"so that is the source of all this misfortune. even as a child i detested that sort of arbitrary judgment which passes under the mask of stern morality. there is an example! do you hear the howling of the storm? in human nature, as well as in the material world, there are tempests and volcanoes which bring destruction, and, if the original character of any individual is full of such devastating forces, like the neighbourhood of vesuvius or etna, the goal to which his impulses would lead him is clearly visible. ay, the stoic is not allowed to destroy the harmony and order of things in existence, any more than to disturb those which are established by the state. but to follow our natural impulses wherever they lead us is so perilous a venture, that whoever has the power to fix a limit to it betimes is in duty bound to do so. this power is mine, and i will use it!" then, with iron severity, she asked: "as it seems to be one of the demands of your nature, woman, to allure and kindle the hearts of all who bear the name of man, even though they have not yet donned the garb of the ephebi, so, too, you seem to appear to delight in idle ornaments. or," and as she spoke she touched barine's shoulder"--or why should you wear, during the hours of slumber, that circlet on your arm?" barine had watched with increasing anxiety the marked change in the manner and language of the queen. she now beheld a repetition of what she had experienced at the adonis festival, but this time she knew what had roused cleopatra's jealousy. she, barine, wore on her arm a gift from antony. with pallid face she strove to find a fitting answer, but ere she could do so iras advanced to the side of the incensed queen, saying: "that circlet is the counterpart of the one your august husband bestowed upon you. the singer's must also be a gift from mark antony. like every one else in the world, she deems the noble imperator the greatest man of his day. who can blame her for prizing it so highly that she does not remove it even while she sleeps?" again barine felt as if a thorn had pierced her; but though the resentment which she had previously experienced once more surged hotly within her heart, she forced herself to maintain seemly external composure, and struggled for some word in answer; but she found none suitable, and remained silent. she had told the truth. from early youth she had followed the impulses of her own nature without heeding the opinion of mortals, as the teachings of the stoics directed, and she had been allowed to do so because this nature was pure, truthful, alive to the beautiful, and, moreover, free from those unbridled, volcanic impulses to which the queen alluded. the cheerful patience of her soul had found ample satisfaction in the cultivation of her art, and in social intercourse with men who permitted her to share their own intellectual life. today she had learned that the first great passion of her heart had met with a response. now she was bound to her lover, and knew herself to be pure and guiltless, far better entitled to demand respect from sterner judges of morality than the woman who condemned her, or the spiteful iras, who had not ceased to offer her love to dion. the sorrowful feeling of being misunderstood and unjustly condemned, mingled with fear of the terrible fate to which she might be sentenced by the omnipotent sovereign, whose clear intellect was clouded by jealousy and the resentment of a mother's wounded heart, paralyzed her tongue. besides, she was confused by the angry emotion which the sight of iras awakened. twice, thrice she strove to utter a few words of explanation, defence, but her voice refused to obey her will. when charmian at last approached to encourage her, it was too late; the indignant queen had turned away, exclaiming to iras: "let her be taken back to lochias. her guilt is proved; but it does not become the injured person, the accuser, to award the punishment. this must be left to the judges before whom we will bring her." then barine once more recovered the power of speech. how dared cleopatra assert that she was convicted of a crime, without hearing her defence? as surely as she felt her own innocence she must succeed in proving it, and with this consciousness she cried out to the queen in a tone of touching entreaty: "o your majesty, do not leave me without hearing me! as truly as i believe in your justice, i can ask you to listen to me once more. do not give me up to the woman who hates me because the man whom she--" here cleopatra interrupted her. royal dignity forbade her to hear one woman's jealous accusation of another, but, with the subtle discernment with which women penetrate one another's moods, she heard in barine's piteous appeal a sincere conviction that she was too severely condemned. doubtless she also had reason to believe in iras's hate, and cleopatra knew how mercilessly she pursued those who had incurred her displeasure. she had rejected and still shuddered at her advice to remove the singer from her path; for an inner voice warned her not to burden her soul now with a fresh crime, which would disturb its peace. besides, she had at first been much attracted by this charming, winning creature; but the irritating thought that antony had bestowed the same gift upon the sovereign and the artist's daughter still so incensed her, that it taxed to the utmost her graciousness and self-control as, without addressing any special person, she exclaimed, glancing back into the hall: "this examination will be followed by another. when the time comes, the accused must appear before the judges; therefore she must remain at lochias and in custody. it is my will that no harm befalls her. you are her friend, charmian. i will place her in your charge. only"--here she raised her voice--"on pain of my anger, do not allow her by any possibility to leave the palace, even for a moment, or to hold intercourse with any person save yourself." with these words she passed out of the hall and went into her own apartments. she had turned the night into day, not only to despatch speedily matters which seemed to her to permit of no delay, but even more because, since the battle of actium, she dreaded the restless hours upon her lonely couch. they seemed endless; and though before she had remembered with pleasure the unprecedented display and magnificence with which she had surrounded her love-life with antony, she now in these hours reproached herself for having foolishly squandered the wealth of her people. the present appeared unbearable, and from the future a host of black cares pressed upon her. the following days were overcrowded with business details. half of her nights were spent in the observatory. she had not asked again for barine. on the fifth night she permitted alexas to conduct her once more to the little observatory which had been erected for her father at lochias, and antony's favourite knew how to prove that a star which had long threatened her planet was that of the woman whom she seemed to have forgotten as completely as she had ignored his former warning against this very foe. the queen denied this, but alexas eagerly continued: "the night after your return home your kindness was again displayed in its inexhaustible and--to us less noble souls--incomprehensible wealth. deeply agitated, we watched during the memorable examination the touching spectacle of the greatest heart making itself the standard by which to measure what is petty and ignoble. but ere the second trial takes place the wanderers above, who know the future, bid me warn you once more; for that woman's every look was calculated, every word had its fixed purpose, every tone of her voice was intended to produce a certain effect. whatever she said or may yet say had no other design than to deceive my royal mistress. as yet there have been no definite questions and answers. but you will have her examined, and then----what may she not make of the story of mark antony, barine, and the two armlets? perhaps it will be a masterpiece." "do you know its real history?" asked cleopatra, clasping her fingers more closely around the pencil in her hand. "if i did," replied alexas, smiling significantly, "the receiver of stolen goods should not betray the thief." "not even if the person who has been robbed--the queen--commands you to give up the dishonestly acquired possession?" "unfortunately, even then i should be forced to withhold obedience; for consider, my royal mistress, there are but two great luminaries around which my dark life revolves. shall i betray the moon, when i am sure of gaining nothing thereby save to dim the warm light of the sun?" "that means that your revelations would wound me, the sun?" "unless your lofty soul is too great to be reached by shadows which surround less noble women with an atmosphere of indescribable torture." "do you intend to render your words more attractive by the veil with which you shroud them? it is transparent, and dims the vision very little. my soul, you think, should be free from jealousy and the other weaknesses of my sex. there you are mistaken. i am a woman, and wish to remain one. as terence's chremes says he is a human being, and nothing human is unknown to him, i do not hesitate to confess all feminine frailties. anubis told me of a queen in ancient times who would not permit the inscriptions to record 'she,' but 'he came,' or 'he, the ruler, conquered.' fool! whatever concerns me, my womanhood is not less lofty than the crown. i was a woman ere i became queen. the people prostrate themselves before my empty litters; but when, in my youth, i wandered in disguise with antony through the city streets and visited some scene of merrymaking, while the men gazed admiringly at me, and we heard voices behind us murmur, 'a handsome couple!' i returned home full of joy and pride. but there was something greater still for the woman to learn, when the heart in the breast of the queen forgot throne and sceptre and, in the hours consecrated to eros, tasted joys known to womanhood alone. how can you men, who only command and desire, understand the happiness of sacrifice? i am a woman; my birth does not exalt me above any feeling of my sex; and what i now ask is not as queen but as woman." "if that is the case," alexas answered with his hand upon his heart, "you impose silence upon me; for were i to confess to the woman cleopatra what agitates my soul, i should be guilty of a double crime--i would violate a promise and betray the friend who confided his noble wife to my protection." "now the darkness is becoming too dense for me," replied cleopatra, raising her head with repellent pride. "or, if i choose to raise the veil, i must point out to you the barriers-"which surround the queen," replied the syrian with an obsequious bow. "there you behold the fact. it is an impossibility to separate the woman from the princess. so far as i am concerned, i do not wish to anger the former against the presumptuous adorer, and i desire to yield to the latter the obedience which is her due. therefore i entreat you to forget the armlet and its many painful associations, and pass to the consideration of other matters. perhaps the fair barine will voluntarily confess everything, and even add how she managed to ensnare the amiable son of the greatest of men, and the most admirable of mothers, the young king caesarion." cleopatra's eyes flashed more brightly, and she angrily exclaimed: "i found the boy just now as though he were possessed by demons. he was ready to tear the bandage from his wound, if he were refused the woman whom he loved. a magic potion was the first thought, and his tutor of course attributes everything to magic arts. charmian, on the contrary, declares that his visits annoyed and even alarmed barine. nothing except a rigid investigation can throw light upon this subject. we will await the imperator's return. do you think that he will again seek the singer? you are his most trusted confidant. if you desire his best good, and care for my favour, drop your hesitation and answer this question." the syrian assumed the manner of a man who had reached a decision, and answered firmly: "certainly he will, unless you prevent him. the simplest way would be--" "well?" "to inform him, as soon as he lands, that she is no longer to be found. i should be especially happy to receive this commission from my royal sun." "and do you think it would dim the light of your moon a little, were he to seek her here in vain?" "as surely as that the contrary would be the case if he were always as gratefully aware of the peerless brilliancy of his sun as it deserves. helios suffers no other orb to appear so long as he adorns the heavens. his lustre quenches all the rest. let my sun so decree, and barine's little star will vanish." "enough! i know your aim now. but a human life is no small thing, and this woman, too, is the child of a mother. we must consider, earnestly consider, whether our purpose cannot be gained without proceeding to extremes. this must be done with zeal and a kindly intention--but i-now, when the fate of this country, my own, and the children's is hanging in the balance, when i have not fifteen minutes at my command, and there is no end of writing and consulting, i can waste no time on such matters." "the reflective mind must be permitted to use its mighty wings unimpeded," cried the syrian eagerly. "leave the settlement of minor matters to trustworthy friends." here they were interrupted by the "introducer," who announced the eunuch mardion. he had come on business which, spite of the late hour, permitted no delay. alexas accompanied the queen to the tablinum, where they found the eunuch. a slave attended him, carrying a pouch filled with letters which had just been brought by two messengers from syria. among them were some which must be answered without delay. the keeper of the seal and the exegetus were also waiting. their late visit was due to the necessity of holding a conference in relation to the measures to be adopted to calm the excited citizens. all the galleys which had escaped from the battle had entered the harbour the day before, wreathed with garlands as if a great victory had been won. loud acclamations greeted them, yet tidings of the defeat at actium spread with the swiftness of the wind. crowds were now gathering, threatening demonstrations had been made in front of the sebasteum, and on the square of the serapeum the troops had been compelled to interfere, and blood had flowed. there lay the letters. zeno remarked that more papers conferring authority were required for the work on the canal, and the exegetus earnestly besought definite instruction. "it is much--much," murmured cleopatra. then, drawing herself up to her full height, she exclaimed, "well, then, to work!" but alexas did not permit her to do this at once. humbly advancing as she took her seat at the large writing-table, he whispered: "and with all this, must my royal mistress devote time and thought to the destroyer of her peace. to disturb your majesty with this trifle is a crime; yet it must be committed, for should the affair remain unheeded longer, the trickling rivulet may become a mountain torrent--" here cleopatra, whose glance had just rested upon a fateful letter from king herod, turned her face half towards her husband's favourite, exclaiming curtly, with glowing cheeks, "presently." "then she glanced rapidly over the letter, pushed it excitedly aside, and dismissed the waiting syrian with the impatient words: "attend to the trial and the rest. no injustice, but no untimely mildness. i will look into this unpleasant matter myself before the imperator returns." "and the authority?" asked the syrian, with another low bow. "you have it. if you need a written one, apply to zeno. we will discuss the affair further at some less busy hour." the syrian retired; but cleopatra turned to the eunuch and, flushed with emotion, cried, pointing to the king of judea's letter: "did you ever witness baser ingratitude? the rats think the ship is sinking, and it is time to leave it. if we succeed in keeping above water, they will return in swarms; and this must, must, must be done, for the sake of this beloved country and her independence. then the children, the children! all our powers must now be taxed, every expedient must be remembered and used. we will hammer each feeble hope until it becomes the strong steel of certainty. we will transform night into day. the canal will save the fleet. mark antony will find in africa pinarius scarpus with untouched loyal legions. the gladiators are faithful to us. we can easily make them ours, and my brain is seething with other plans. but first we will attend to the alexandrians. no violence!" this exclamation was followed by order after order, and the promise that, if necessary, she would show herself to the people. the exegetus was filled with admiration as he received the clear, sagacious directions. after he had retired with his companions, the queen again turned to the regent, saying: "we did wisely to make the people happy at first with tidings of victory. the unexpected news of terrible disaster might have led them to some unprecedented deed of madness. disappointment is a more common pain, for which less powerful remedies will suffice. besides, many things could be arranged ere they knew that i was here. how much we have accomplished already, mardion! but i have not even granted myself the joy of seeing my children. i was forced to defer the pleasure of the companionship of my oldest friends, even archibius. when he comes again he will be admitted. i have given the order. he knows rome thoroughly. i must hear his opinion of pending negotiations." she shivered as she spoke, and pressing her hand upon her brow, exclaimed: "octavianus victor, cleopatra vanquished! i, who was everything to caesar, beseeching mercy from his heir. i, a petitioner to octavia's brother! yet, no, no! there are still a hundred chances of avoiding the horrible doom. but whoever wishes to compel the field to bear fruits must dig sturdily, draw the buckets from the well, plough, and sow the seed. to work, then, to work! when antony returns he must find all things ready. the first success will restore his lost energy. i glanced through yonder letter while talking with the exegetus; now i will dictate the answer." so she sat reading, writing, and dictating, listening, answering, and giving orders, until the east brightened with the approach of dawn, the morning star grew pale, and the regent, utterly exhausted, entreated her to consider her own health and his years, and permit him a few hours' rest. then she, too, allowed herself to be led into her darkened chamber, and this time a friendly, dreamless slumber closed her weary eyes and held her captive until roused by the loud shouts of the multitude, who had heard of the queen's return and flocked to lochias. etext editor's bookmarks: without heeding the opinion of mortals this ebook was produced by david widger <widger@cecomet.net> [note: there is a short list of bookmarks, or pointers, at the end of the file for those who may wish to sample the author's ideas before making an entire meal of them. d.w.] arachne by georg ebers volume 1. translated from the german by mary j. safford chapter i. deep silence brooded over the water and the green islands which rose like oases from its glittering surface. the palms, silver poplars, and sycamores on the largest one were already casting longer shadows as the slanting rays of the sun touched their dark crowns, while its glowing ball still poured a flood of golden radiance upon the bushes along the shore, and the light, feathery tufts at the tops of the papyrus reeds in the brackish water. more than one flock of large and small waterfowl flew past beneath the silvery cloudlets flecking the lofty azure vault of heaven; here and there a pelican or a pair of wild ducks plunged, with short calls which ceased abruptly, into the lush green thicket, but their cackling and quacking belonged to the voices of nature, and, when heard, soon died away in the heights of the tipper air, or in the darkness of the underbrush that received the birds. very few reached the little city of tennis, which now, during the period of inundation in the year 274 b.c., was completely encircled by water. from the small island, separated from it by a channel scarcely three arrow-shots wide, it seemed as though sleep or paralysis had fallen upon the citizens of the busy little industrial town, for few people appeared in the streets, and the scanty number of porters and sailors who were working among the ships and boats in the little fleet performed their tasks noiselessly, exhausted by the heat and labour of the day. columns of light smoke rose from many of the buildings, but the sunbeams prevented its ascent into the clear, still air, and forced it to spread over the roofs as if it, too, needed rest. silence also reigned in the little island diagonally opposite to the harbour. the tennites called it the owl's nest, and, though for no especial reason, neither they nor the magistrates of king ptolemy ii ever stepped upon its shores. indeed, a short time before, the latter had even been forbidden to concern themselves about the pursuits of its inhabitants; since, though for centuries it had belonged to a family of seafaring folk who were suspected of piracy, it had received, two generations ago, from alexander the great himself, the right of asylum, because its owner, in those days, had commanded a little fleet which proved extremely useful to the conqueror of the world in the siege of gaza and during the expedition to egypt. true, under the reign of ptolemy i, the owners of the owl's nest were on the point of being deprived of this favour, because they were repeatedly accused of piracy in distant seas; but it had not been done. yet for the past two years an investigation had threatened satabus, the distinguished head of the family, and during this period he, with his ships and his sons, had avoided tennis and the egyptian coast. the house occupied by the islanders stood on the shore facing the little city. it had once been a stately building, but now every part of it seemed to be going to ruin except the central portion, which presented a less dilapidated appearance than the sorely damaged, utterly neglected side wings. the roof of the whole long structure had originally consisted of palm branches, upon which mud and turf had been piled; but this, too, was now in repair only on the central building. on the right and left wings the rain which often falls in the northeastern part of the nile delta, near the sea, had washed off the protecting earth, and the wind had borne it away as dust. once the house had been spacious enough to shelter a numerous family and to store a great quantity of goods and provisions, but it was now long since the ruinous chambers had been occupied. smoke rose only from the opening in the roof of the main building, but its slender column showed from what a very scanty fire it ascended. the purpose which this was to serve was readily discovered, for in front of the open door of the dwelling, that seemed far too large and on account of the pillars at the entrance, which supported a triangular pediment--also too stately for its sole occupant, sat an old woman, plucking three ducks. in front of her a girl, paying no heed to her companion, stood leaning against the trunk of the low, wide-branching sycamore tree near the shore. a narrow boat, now concealed from view by the dense growth of rushes, had brought her to the spot. the beautiful, motherless young creature, needing counsel, had come to old tabus to appeal to her art of prophecy and, if she wanted them, to render her any little services; for the old dame on the island was closely bound to ledscha, the daughter of one of the principal shipowners in tennis, and had once been even more closely united to the girl. now, as the sun was about to set, the latter gave herself up to a wild tumult of sweet memories, anxious fears, and yearning expectation. not until a cool breath from the neighbouring sea fanned her brow did she throw down the cord and implement with which she had been adding a few meshes to a net, and rising, gaze sometimes across the water at a large white house in the northern part of the city, sometimes at the little harbour or the vessels on the horizon steering toward tennis, among which her keen eyes discovered a magnificent ship with bright-hued sails. drawing a long breath, she enjoyed the coolness which precedes the departure of the daystar. but the effect of this harbinger of night upon her surroundings was even more powerful than upon herself, for the sun in the western horizon scarcely began to sink slowly behind the papyrus thicket on the shore of the straight tanite arm of the nile, dug by human hands, than one new and strange phenomenon followed another. first a fan, composed of countless glowing rays which spread in dazzling radiance over the west, rose from the vanishing orb and for several minutes adorned the lofty dome of the deep-blue sky like the tail of a gigantic peacock. then the glitter of the shining plumes paled. the light-giving body from which they emanated disappeared and, in its stead, a crimson mantle, with gold-bordered, crocus-yellow edges, spread itself over the space it had left until the gleaming tints merged into the deeper hues of the violet. but the girl paid no heed to this splendid spectacle. perhaps she noticed how the fading light diffused a delicate rose-hued veil over the light-blue sails, embroidered with silver vines, of the approaching state galley, making its gilded prow glitter more brightly, and saw one fishing boat after another move toward the harbour, but she gave the whole scene only a few careless glances. ledscha cared little for the poor fishermen of tennis, and the glittering state galley could scarcely bring or bear away anything of importance to her. the epistrategus of the whole province was daily expected. but of what consequence to the young girl were the changes which it was rumoured he intended to introduce into the government of the country, concerning which her father had expressed such bitter dissatisfaction before he set out on his last trip to pontus? a very different matter occupied her thoughts, and as, pressing her hand upon her heart, she gazed at the little city, gleaming with crimson hues in the reflection of the setting sun, a strange, restless stir pervaded the former stillness of nature. pelicans and flamingoes, geese and ducks, storks and herons, ibises and cranes, bitterns and lapwings, flew in dark flocks of manifold forms from all directions. countless multitudes of waterfowl darkened the air as they alighted upon the uninhabited islands, and with ear-splitting croaking and cackling, whistling and chirping, clapping and twittering, dropped into the sedges and bushes which concealed their nests, while in the city the doors of the houses opened, and men, women, and children, after toiling at the loom and in the workshop, came out to enjoy the coolness of the evening in the open air. one fishing boat after another was already throwing a rope to the shore, as the ship with the gay sails approached the little roadstead. how large and magnificent it was! none of the king's officials had ever used such a galley, not even the epistrategus of the delta, who last year had given the banking and the oil trade to new lessees. besides, the two transports that had followed the magnificent vessel appeared to belong to it. ledscha had watched the ships indifferently enough, but suddenly her gaze--and with it the austere beauty of her face--assumed a different expression. her large black eyes dilated, and with passionate intentness she looked from the gaily ornamented galley to the shore, which several men in greek costume were approaching. the first two had come from the large white house whose door, since sunset, had been the principal object of her attention. it was hermon, the taller one, for whom she was waiting with old tabus. he had promised to take her from the owl's nest, after nightfall, for a lonely row upon the water. now he was not coming alone, but with his fellow-artist, the sculptor myrtilus, the nomarch and the notary--she recognised both distinctly-gorgias, the rich owner of the second largest weaving establishment in tennis, and several slaves. what did it mean? a sudden flush crimsoned her face, now slightly tanned, to the brow, and her lips were compressed, giving her mouth an expression of repellent, almost cruel harshness. but the tension of her charming features, whose lines, though sharp, were delicately outlined, soon vanished. there was still plenty of time before the darkness would permit hermon to join her unnoticed. a reception, from which he could not be absent, was evidently about to take place. yes, that was certainly the case; for now the magnificent galley had approached as near the land as the shallow water permitted, and the whistle of the rowers' flute-player, shouts of command, and the barking of dogs could be heard. then a handkerchief waved a greeting from the vessel to the men on shore, but the hand that held it was a woman's. ledscha would have recognised it had the twilight been far deeper. the features of the new arrival could no longer be distinguished; but she must be young. an elderly woman would not have sprung so nimbly into the skiff that was to convey her to the land. the man who assisted her in doing so was the same sculptor, hermon, for whom she had watched with so much longing. again the blood mounted into ledscha's cheeks, and when she saw the stranger lay her hand upon the shoulder of the alexandrian who, only yesterday, had assured the young girl of his love with ardent vows, and allow him to lift her out of the boat, she buried her little white teeth deeply in her lips. she had never seen hermon in the society of a woman of his own class, and, full of jealous displeasure; perceived with what zealous assiduity he who bowed before no one in tennis, paid court to the stranger no less eagerly than did his friend myrtilus. the whole scene passed like a shadow in the dusk before ledscha's eyes, half dimmed by uneasiness, perplexity, and suddenly inflamed jealousy. the egyptian twilight is short, and when hermon disappeared with the newcomer it was no longer possible to recognise the man who entered the very boat in which she was to have taken the nocturnal voyage with her lover, and which was now rowed toward the owl's nest. surely it would bring her a message from hermon; and as the stranger, who was now joined by a number of other women and two packs of barking dogs, with their keepers, vanished in the darkness, the skiff already touched the shore close at her side. chapter ii. in spite of the surrounding gloom, ledscha recognised the man who left the boat. the greeting he shouted told her that it was hermon's slave, pias, a biamite, whom she had met in the house of some neighbours who were his relatives and had sharply rebuffed when he ventured to accost her more familiarly than was seemly for one in bondage. true, in his childhood this man had lived near tennis as the son of a free papyrus raiser, but when still a lad was sold into slavery in alexandria with his father, who had been seized for taking part in an insurrection against the last king. in the service of areluas, his present master's uncle, who had given him to his nephew, and as the slave of the impetuous yet anything but cruel sculptor, hermon, he had become accustomed to bondage, but was still far more strongly attached to his biamite race than to the greek, to whom, it is true, his master belonged, but who had robbed him and his family of freedom. the man of forty did not lack mother wit, and as his hard fate rendered him thoughtful and often led him to use figurative turns of speech, which were by no means intended as jests, he had been called by his first master "bias" for the sage of priene. in the house of hermon, who associated with the best artists in alexandria, he had picked up all sorts of knowledge and gladly welcomed instruction. his highest desire was to win esteem, and he often did so. hermon prized the useful fellow highly. he had no secrets from him, and was sure of his silence and good will. bias had managed to lure many a young beauty in alexandria, in whom the sculptor had seen a desirable model, to his studio, even under the most difficult circumstances; but he was vexed to find that his master had cast his eye upon the daughter of one of the most distinguished families among his own people. he knew, too, that the biamites jealously guarded the honour of their women, and had represented to hermon what a dangerous game he was playing when he began to offer vows of love to ledscha. so it was an extremely welcome task to be permitted to inform her that she was awaiting his master in vain. in reply to her inquiry whether it was the aristocrat who had just arrived who kept hermon from her, he admitted that she was right, but added that the gods were above even kings, and his master was obliged to yield to the alexandrian's will. ledscha laughed incredulously: "he--obey a woman!" "he certainly would not submit to a man," replied the slave. "artists, you must know, would rather oppose ten of the most powerful men than one weak woman, if she is only beautiful. as for the daughter of archias-thereby hangs a tale." "archias?" interrupted the girl. "the rich alexandrian who owns the great weaving house?" "the very man." "so it is his daughter who is keeping hermon? and you say he is obliged to serve her?" "as men serve the deity, to the utmost, or truth," replied the slave importantly. "archias, the father, it is true, imposed upon us the debt which is most tardily paid, and which people, even in this country, call 'gratitude.' we are under obligations to the old man--there's no denying it--and therefore also to his only child." "for what?" ledscha indignantly exclaimed, and the dark eyebrows which met above her delicate nose contracted suspiciously. "i must know!" "must!" repeated the slave. "that word is a ploughshare which suits only loose soil, and mine, now that my master is waiting for me, can not be tilled even by the sharpest. another time! but if, meanwhile, you have any message for hermon----" "nothing," she replied defiantly; but bias, in a tone of the most eager assent, exclaimed: "one friendly word, girl. you are the fairest among the daughters of the highest biamite families, and probably the richest also, and therefore a thousand times too good to yield what adorns you to the greek, that it may tickle the curiosity of the alexandrian apes. there are more than enough women in the capital to serve that purpose. trust the experience of a man not wholly devoid of wisdom, my girl. he will throw you aside like an empty wine bottle when he has used you for a model." "used?" interrupted ledscha disdainfully; but he repeated with firm decision: "yes, used! what could you learn of life, of art and artists, here in the weaver's nest in the midst of the waves? i know them. a sculptor needs beautiful women as a cobbler wants leather, and the charms he seeks in you he does not conceal from his friend myrtilus, at least. they are your large almond-shaped eyes and your arms. they make him fairly wild with delight by their curves when, in drawing water, you hold the jug balanced on your head. your slender arched foot, too, is a welcome morsel to him." the darkness prevented bias from seeing ledscha's features, but it was easy to perceive what was passing in her mind as, hoarse with indignation, she gasped: "how can i know the object of your accusations? but fie upon the servant who would alienate from his own kind master what his soul desires!" then bias changed not only his tone of voice, but his language, and, deeply offended, poured forth a torrent of wrath in the dialect of his people: "if to guard you, and my master with you, from harm, my words had the power to put between you and hermon the distance which separates yonder rising moon from tennis, i would make them sound as loud as the lion's roar. yet perhaps you would not understand them, for you go through life as though you were deaf and blind. did you ever even ask yourself whether the greek is not differently constituted from the sons of the biamite sailors and fishermen, with whom you grew up, and to whom he is an abomination? yet he is no more like them than poppy juice is like pure water. he and his companions turn life upside down. there is no more distinction between right and wrong in alexandria than we here in the dark can make between blue and green. to me, the slave, who is already growing old, hermon is a kind master. i know without your aid what i owe him, and serve him as loyally as any one; but where he threatens to lead to ruin the innocent daughter of the race whose blood flows in my veins as well as yours, and in doing so perhaps finally destroy himself too, conscience commands me to raise my voice as loud as the sentinel crane when danger threatens the flock. beware, girl, i repeat! keep your beauty, which is now to be degraded to feast the eyes of gaping greeks, for the worthiest husband among our people. though hermon has vowed, i know not what, your love-dallying will very soon be over; we shall leave tennis within the next few days. when he has gone there will be one more deceived biamite who will call down the curse of the gods upon the head of a greek. you are not the only one who will execrate the destiny that brought us here. others have been caught in his net too." "here?" asked ledscha in a hollow tone; and the slave eagerly answered: "where else? and that you may know the truth--among those who visited hermon in his studio is your own young sister." "our taus? that child?" exclaimed the girl, stretching her hands toward the slave in horror, as if to ward off some impending disaster. "that child, who, i think, has grown into a very charming girl--and, before her, pretty gula, the wife of paseth, who, like your father, is away on his ship." here, in a tone of triumphant confidence, the answer rang from the biamite's lips: "there the slanderer stands revealed! now you are detected, now i perceive the meaning of your threat. because, miserable slave, you cherish the mad hope of beguiling me yourself, you do your utmost to estrange me from your master. gula, you say, visited hermon in his studio, and it may be true. but though i have been at home only a short time, tennis is too full of the praises of the heroic greek who, at the risk of his own life, rescued a child from paseth's burning house, for the tale not to reach my ears from ten or a dozen different quarters. gula is the mother of the little girl whose life was saved by hermon's bold deed, and perhaps the young mother only knocked at her benefactor's door to thank him; but you, base defamer--" "i," bias continued, maintaining his composure with difficulty, "i saw gula secretly glide into our rooms again and again to permit her child's preserver to imitate in clay what he considered beautiful. to seek your love, as you know, the slave forbade himself, although a man no more loses tender desires with his freedom than the tree which is encircled by a fence ceases to put forth buds and blossoms. eros chooses the slave's heart also as the target for his arrows; but his aim at yours was better than at mine. now i know how deeply he wounds, and so, as soon as yonder ship in the harbour bears our visitor away again, i shall see you, schalit's daughter, ledscha, standing before hermon's modelling table and behold him scan your beauty to determine what seems worth copying." the biamite, panting for breath, had listened to the end. then, raising her little clinched hand menacingly, she muttered through her set teeth: "let him try even to touch my veil with his fingers! if i had not been obliged to go away, this would not have happened to my taus and luckless gula." "scarcely," replied bias calmly. "if the chicken runs into the water, the hen can not save it. for the rest--i grew up as a boy in freedom with the husband of your sister, who summoned you to her aid. his father's brick-kiln was next to our papyrus plantation. then we fared like so many others--the great devour the small, the just cause is the lost one, and the gods are like men. my father, who drew the sword against oppression and violence, was robbed of liberty, and your brotherin-law, in payment for his honest courage, met an early death. is the story which is told of you here true? i heard that soon after the poor fellow's burial the slaves in the brick-kiln refused to obey his widow. there were a dozen rebellious brick-moulders, and you--one can forgive you much for it--you, the weak girl----" "i am not weak," interrupted ledscha proudly. "i could have taught three times twelve of the scoundrels who was master. now they obey my sister, and yet i wish i had stayed in tennis. our taus," she continued in a more gentle tone, "is still so young, and our mother died when she was a little child; but i, fool, who should have warned her, left her alone, and if she yielded to hermon's temptations the fault is mine, wholly mine." during this outburst the light of the fire, which old tabus had fed with fresh straw and dry rushes, fell upon the face of the agitated girl. it revealed her thoughts plainly enough, and, pleased with the success of his warning, bias exclaimed: "and ledscha, you, too, will not grant him that from which you would so gladly have withheld your sister. so i will go and tell my master that you refuse to give him another appointment." he had confidently expected an assent, and therefore started indignantly at her exclamation: "i intend to do just the contrary." yet she eagerly added, as if in explanation: "he must give me an account of himself, no matter where, and, since it can not be to-day, to-morrow at latest." the slave, disappointed and anxious, now tried to make her understand how foolish and hard to accomplish her wish was, but she obstinately insisted upon having her own way. bias angrily turned his back upon her and, in the early light of the moon, walked toward the shore, but she hastened after him, seized his arm and, with imperious firmness, commanded: "you will stay! i must first know whether hermon really means to leave tennis so soon." "that was his intention early this morning," replied the other, releasing himself from her grasp. "what are we to do here longer, now that his work is as good as finished?" "but when is he going?" she urged with increased eagerness. "day after to-morrow," was the reply, "in five, or perhaps even in six days, just as it suits him. usually we do not even know to-day what is to be done to-morrow. so long as the alexandrian remains, he will scarcely leave her, or myrtilus either. probably she will take both hunting with her, for, though a kind, fair-minded woman, she loves the chase, and as both have finished their work, they probably will not be reluctant to go with daphne." he stepped into the boat as he spoke, but ledscha again detained him, asking impatiently: "and 'the work,' as you call it? it was covered with a cloth when i visited the studio, but hermon himself termed it the statue of a goddess. yet what it represents--does it look like my sister taus--enough like her, i mean, to be recognised?" a half-compassionate, half-mocking smile flitted over the biamite's copper-coloured visage, and in a tone of patronizing instruction assumed by the better informed, he began: "you are thinking of the face? why no, child! what that requires can be found in the countenance of no biamite, hardly even in yours, the fairest of all." "and the goddess's figure?" asked ledscha eagerly. "for that he first used as a model the fair-haired heliodora, whom he summoned from alexandria, and as the wild cat could endure the loneliness only a fortnight, the sisters nico and pagis came together. but tennis was too quiet for them too. the rabble can only be contented among those of their own sort in the capital. but the great preliminary work was already finished before we left alexandria." "and gula--my sister?" "they were not used for the demeter," said the slave, smiling. "just think, that slender scarcely grown creature, taus, and the matronly patroness of marriage. and gula? true, her little round face is fresh and not ill-looking--but the model of a goddess requires something more. that can only be obtained in alexandria. what do not the women there do for the care of the body! they learn it in the aphrodision, as the boys study reading and writing. but you! what do you here know even about colouring the eyelids and the lips, curling the hair, and treating the nails on the hands and feet? and the clothes! you let them hang just as you put them on, and my master's work is full of folds and little lines in the robe and the peplos--but i have staid too long already. do you really insist upon meeting hermon again? "i will and must see him," she eagerly declared. "well, then," he answered harshly. "but if you cast my warning to the winds, pity will also fly away with it." "i do not need it," the girl retorted in a contemptuous tone. "then let fate take its course," said the slave, shrugging his shoulders regretfully. "my master shall learn what you wish. i shall remain at home until the market is empty. there are plenty of servants at your farm. your messenger shall bring you hermon's answer." "i will come myself and wait for it under the acacia," she cried hastily, and went toward the house, but this time it was bias who called her back. ledscha reluctantly fulfilled his wish, but she soon regretted it, for though what he had to say was doubtless kindly meant, it contained a fresh and severe offence: the slave represented to her the possibilitv that, so long as the daughter of archias remained his guest, hermon might rebuff her like a troublesome beggar. then, as if sure of her cause, she indignantly cut short his words: "you measure him according to your own standard, and do not know what depends upon it for us. remind him of the full moon on the coming night and, though ten alexandrians detained him, he would escape from them to hear what i bring him." with these words ledscha again turned her back upon him, but bias, with a low imprecation, pushed the boat from the shore and rowed toward the city. chapter iii. when ledscha heard the strokes of the oars she stopped again and, with glowing cheeks, gazed after the boat and the glimmering silver furrow which it left upon the calm surface of the moonlit water. her heart was heavy. the doubts of her lover's sincerity which the slave had awakened tortured her proud soul. was hermon really only trifling mischievously with her affection? surely it was impossible. she would rather endure everything, everything, than this torturing uncertainty. yet she was here on the owl's nest to seek the aid of old tabus's magic arts. if any one could give her satisfaction, it was she and the demons who obeyed her will, and the old woman was glad to oblige ledscha; she was bound to her by closer ties than most people in tennis knew. ledscha had no cause to be ashamed of her frequent visits to the owl's nest, for old tabus had no equal as a leech and a prophetess, and the corsair family, of which she was the female head, stood in high repute among the biamites. people bore them no ill-will because they practised piracy; many of their race pursued the same calling, and the sailors made common cause with them. ledscha's father, too, was on good terms with the pirates, and when abus, a handsome fellow who commanded his father's second ship and had won a certain degree of renown by many a bold deed, sought the hand of his oldest daughter, he did not refuse him, and only imposed the condition that when he had gained riches enough and made ledscha his wife, he would cease his piratical pursuits and, in partnership with him, take goods and slaves from pontus to the syrian and egyptian harbours, and grain and textiles from the nile to the coasts of the black sea. young abus had yielded to this demand, since his grandmother on the owl's nest thought it wise to delay for a time the girl's marriage to him, the best beloved of her grandsons; she was then scarcely beyond childhood. yet ledscha had felt a strong affection for the young pirate, in whom she saw the embodiment of heroic manhood. she accompanied him in imagination through all his perilous expeditions; but she had been permitted to enjoy his society only after long intervals for a few days. once he remained absent longer than usual, and this very voyage was to have been his last on a pirate craft--the peaceful seafaring life was to begin, after his landing, with the marriage. ledscha had expected her lover's return with eager longing, but week after week elapsed, yet nothing was seen or heard of the ships owned by the owl's nest family; then a rumour spread that this time the corsairs were defeated in a battle with the syrian war-galleys. the first person who received sure tidings was old tabus. her grandson hanno, who escaped with his life, at the bidding of his father satabus, who revered his mother, had made his way to her amid great perils to convey the sorrowful news. two of the best ships in the family had been sunk, and on one the brave abus, ledscha's betrothed husband, who commanded it, had lost his life; on the other the aged dame's oldest son and three of her grandchildren. tabus fell as if struck by lightning when she heard the tidings, and since that time her tongue had lost its power of fluent speech, her ear its sharpness; but ledscha did not leave her side, and saved her life by tireless, faithful nursing. neither satabus, the old woman's second son, who now commanded the little pirate fleet, nor his sons, hanno and labaja, had been seen in the neighbourhood of tennis since the disaster, but after tabus had recovered sufficiently to provide for herself, ledscha returned to tennis to manage her father's great household and supply the mother's place to her younger sister, taus. she had not recovered the careless cheerfulness of earlier years, but, graver than the companions of her own age, she absented herself from the gaieties of the biamite maidens. meanwhile her beauty had increased wonderfully, and, attracting attention far and wide, drew many suitors from neighbouring towns to tennis. only a few, however, had made offers of marriage to her father; the beautiful girl's cold, repellent manner disheartened them. she herself desired nothing better; yet it secretly incensed her and pierced her soul with pain to see herself at twenty unwedded, while far less attractive companions of her own age had long been wives and mothers. the arduous task which she had performed a short time before for her widowed sister had increased the seriousness of her disposition to sullen moroseness. after her return home she often rowed to the owl's nest, for ledscha felt bound to old tabus, and, so far as lay in her power, under obligation to atone for the injury which the horror of her lover's sudden death had inflicted upon his grandmother. now she had at last been subjugated by a new passion--love for the greek sculptor hermon, who did his best to win the heart of the biamite girl, whose austere, extremely singular beauty attracted his artist eyes. to-day ledscha had come to the sorceress to learn from her what awaited her and her love. she had landed on the island, sure of favourable predictions, but now her hopes lay as if crushed by hailstones. if bias, who was superior to an ordinary slave, was right, she was to be degraded to a toy and useful tool by the man who had already proved his pernicious power over other women of her race, even her own young sister, whom she had hitherto guarded with faithful care. it had by no means escaped her notice that the girl was concealing something from her, though she did not perceive the true cause of the change. the bright moonbeams, which now wove a silvery web over every surrounding object, seemed like a mockery of her darkened soul. if the demons of the heights and depths had been subject to her, as to the aged enchantress she would have commanded them to cover the heavens with black clouds. now they must show her what she had to hope or to fear. she shook her head slightly, as if she no longer believed in a favourable turn of affairs, pushed the little curls which had escaped from the wealth of her black hair back from her forehead with her slender hand, and walked firmly to the house. the old dame was crouching beside the hearth in the middle room, turning the metal spit, on which she had put the ducks, over the freshly kindled fire. the smoke hurt her eyes, which were slightly inflamed, yet they seemed to serve their purpose better than her half-dulled ear, for, after a swift glance at ledscha, she stammered in her faltering speech: "what has happened? nothing good, certainly. it is written on your face." the girl nodded assent, pointed with a significant gesture to her eyes and the open air, and went down to the shore again to convince herself that no other vessel was approaching. what she had to confide to tabus was intended for her alone, and experience taught how far spoken words could be heard at night over the water. when she had returned to the hut, she bent down to the old woman's ear and, holding her curved hand to her lips, cried, "he is not coming!" tabus shrugged her shoulders, and the smile of satisfaction which flitted over her brown, wrinkled face showed that the news was welcome. for her murdered grandson's sake the girl's confession that she had given her heart to a greek affected her painfully; but tabus also had something else on her mind for her beautiful darling. now she only intimated by a silent nod that she understood ledscha, and her head remained constantly in motion as the latter continued: "true, i shall see him again to-morrow, but when we part, it will hardly be in love. at any rate--do you hear, grandmother?--to-morrow must decide everything. therefore--do you understand me?--you must question the cords now, to-night, for to-morrow evening what they advised might be too late." "now?" repeated tabus in surprise, letting her gaze rest inquiringly upon the girl. then she took the spit from the fire, exclaiming angrily: "directly, do you mean? as if that could be! as if the stars obeyed us mortals like maids or men servants! the moon must be at the full to learn the truth from the cords. wait, child! what is life but waiting? only have patience, girl! true, few know how to practise this art at your age, and it is alien to many all their lives. but the stars! from them, the least and the greatest, man can learn to go his way patiently, year by year. always the same course and the same pace. no deviation even one hair's breadth, no swifter or slower movement for the unresting wanderers. no sudden wrath, no ardent desire, no weariness or aversion urges or delays them. how i love and honour them! they willingly submit to the great law until the end of all things. what they appoint for this hour is for it alone, not for the next one. everything in the vast universe is connected with them. whoever should delay their course a moment would make the earth reel. night would become day, the rivers would return to their sources. people would walk on their heads instead of their feet, joy would be transformed to sorrow and power to servitude. therefore, child, the full moon has a different effect from the waxing or waning one during the other twenty-nine nights of the month. to ask of one what belongs to another is to expect an answer from the foreigner who does not understand your language. how young you are, child, and how foolish! to question the cords for you in the moonlight now is to expect to gather grapes from thorns. take my word for that!" here she interrupted the words uttered with so much difficulty, and with her blackish-blue cotton dress wiped her perspiring face, strangely flushed by the exertion and the firelight. ledscha had listened with increasing disappointment. the wise old dame was doubtless right, yet before she ventured to the sculptor's workshop the next day she must know at every cost how matters stood, what she had to fear or to hope from him; so after a brief silence she ventured to ask the question, "but are there only the stars and the cords which predict what fate holds in store for one who is so nearly allied to you?" "no, child, no," was the reply. "but nothing can be clone about looking into the future now. it requires rigid fasting from early dawn, and i ate the dates you brought me. i inhaled the odor of the roasting ducks, too, and then--it must be done at midnight; and at midnight your people will be anxious if you are not at home by that time, or perhaps send a slave to seek you here at my house, and that--that must not be done--i must prevent it." "so you are expecting some one," ledscha eagerly replied. "and i know who it is. your son satabus, or one of your grandsons. else why are the ducks cooked? and for what is the wine jar which i just took from its hiding place?" a vehement gesture of denial from tabus contradicted the girl's conjecture; but directly after she scanned her with a keen, searching glance, and said: "no, no. we have nothing to fear from you, surely. poor abus! through him you will always belong to us. in spite of the greek, ours you are and ours you will remain. the stars confirm it, and you have always been faithful to the old woman. you are shrewd and steadfast. you would have been the right mate for him who was also wise and firm. poor, dear, brave boy! but why pity him? because the salt waves now flow over him? fools that we are! there is nothing better than death, for it is peace. and almost all of them have found it. of nine sons and twenty grandsons, only three are left. the others are all calm after so much conflict and danger. how long ago it is since seven perished at once! the last three their turn will come too. how i envy them that best of blessings, only may they not also go before me!" here she lowered her voice, and in a scarcely audible whisper murmured: "you shall know it. my son satabus, with his brave boys hanno and labaja, are coming later in the evening. about midnight--if ye protect them, ye powers above--they will be with me. and you, child, i know your soul to its inmost depths. before you would betray the last of abus's kindred--" "my hand and tongue should wither!" ledscha passionately interrupted, and then, with zealous feminine solicitude, she asked whether the three ducks would suffice to satisfy the hunger of these strong men. the old woman smiled and pointed to a pile of fresh leaves heaped one above another, beneath which lay several fine shad. they were not to be cooked until the expected visitors arrived, and she had plenty of bread besides. in the presence of these proofs of maternal solicitude the morose, wrinkled countenance of the old sorceress wore a kind, almost tender expression, and the light of joyous anticipation beamed upon her young guest from her redrimmed eyes. "i am to see them once more!" cried tabus in an agitated tone. "the last--and all three, all! if they- but no; they will not set to work so near pelusium. no, no! they will not, lest they should spoil the meeting with the old woman. oh, they are kind; no one knows how kind my rough satabus can be. he would be your father now, girl, if we could have kept our abus--he was the best of all--longer. it is fortunate that you are here, for they must see you, and it would have been hard for me to fetch the other things: the salt, the indian pepper, and the jug of pelusinian zythus, which satabus is always so fond of drinking." then ledscha went into the ruinous left wing of the house, where she took from a covered hole in the floor what the old woman had kept for the last of her race, and she performed her task gladly and with rare skill. next she prepared the fish and the pan, and while her hands were moving busily she earnestly entreated the old woman to gratify her wish and look into the future for her. tabus, however, persisted in her refusal, until ledscha again called her "grandmother," and entreated her, by the heads of the three beloved ones whom she expected, to fulfil her desire. then the old dame rose, and while the girl, panting for breath, took the roasted ducks from the spit, the former, with her own trembling hands, drew from the little chest which she kept concealed behind a heap of dry reeds, branches, and straw, a shining copper dish, tossed the gold coins which had been in it back into the box, and moistened the bottom with the blackish-red juice of the grape from the wine jar. after carefully making these preparations she called ledscha and repeated that the cords possessed the power of prophecy only on nights when the moon was full, and that she would use another means of looking into the future. then she commanded the girl to let her hands rest now and to think of nothing except the questions whose answer she had at heart. lastly, she muttered into the vessel a series of incantations, which ledscha repeated after her, and gazed as if spellbound at the dark liquid which covered the bottom. the girl, panting for breath, watched every movement of the sorceress, but some time elapsed ere the latter suddenly exclaimed, "there he is!" and then, without removing her eyes from the bottom of the vessel, she went on, with faltering accents, as though she was describing a scene close before her eyes. "two young men-both greeks, if the dress does not deceive--one is at your right hand, the other at your left. the former is fair-haired; the glance of his eyes is deep and constant. it is he, i think--but no! his image is fading, and you are turning your back upon him. you do it intentionally. no, no, you two are not destined for each other. you think of the one with the waving black hair and beard--of him alone. he is growing more and more distinct--a handsome man, and how his brow shines! yet his glance--it sees more than that of many others, but, like the rest of his nature, it lacks steadfastness." here she paused, raised her shaking head, looked at ledscha's flushed face, and in a grave, warning tone, said: "many signs of happiness, but also many dark shadows and black spots. if he is the one, child, you must be on your guard." "he is," murmured the girl softly, as if speaking to herself. but the deaf old crone had read the words from her lips, and while gazing intently at the wine, went on impatiently: "if the picture would only grow more distinct! as it was, so it has remained. and now! the image of the fair man with the deep-blue eyes melts away entirely, and a gray cloud flutters between you and the other one with the black beard. if it would only scatter! but we shall never make any progress in this way. now pay attention, girl." the words had an imperious tone, and with outstretched head and throbbing heart ledscha awaited the old woman's further commands. they came at once and ordered her to confess, as freely and openly as though she was talking to herself, where she had met the man whom she loved, how he had succeeded in snaring her heart, and how he repaid her for the passion which he had awakened. these commands were so confused and mingled in utterance that any one less familiar with the speaker would scarcely have comprehended what they required of her, but ledscha understood and was ready to obey. chapter iv. this reserved, thoroughly self-reliant creature would never have betrayed to any human being what moved her soul and filled it some times with inspiring hope, sometimes with a consuming desire for vengeance; but ledscha did not shrink from confiding it to the demons who were to help her to regain her composure. so, obeying a swift impulse, she threw herself on her knees by the old woman's side. then, supporting her head with her hands, she gazed at the still glimmering fire, and, as if one memory after another received new life from it, she began the difficult confession: "i returned from my sister's brick-kiln a fortnight ago," she commenced, while the sorceress leaned her deaf ear nearer to her lips. "during my absence something--i know not what it was--had saddened the cheerful spirits of my young sister taus. at the recent festival of astarte she regained them, and obtained some beautiful bright flowers to make wreaths for herself and me. so we joined the procession of the tennis maidens and, as the fairest, they placed us directly behind the daughters of hiram. "when we were about to go home after the sacrifice, two young greeks approached us and greeted hiram's daughters and my sister also. "one was a quiet young man, with narrow shoulders and light, curling hair; the other towered above him in stature. his powerful figure was magnificently formed, and he carried his head with its splendid black beard proudly. "since the gods snatched abus from me, though so many men had wooed me, i had cared for no one; but the fair-haired greek with the sparkling light in his blue eyes and the faint flush on his cheeks pleased me, and his name, 'myrtilus,' fell upon my ear like music. i was glad when he joined me and asked, as simply as though he were merely inquiring the way, why he had never seen me, the loveliest among the beauties in the temple, in tennis. "i scarcely noticed the other. besides, he seemed to have eyes only for taus and the daughters of hiram. he played all sorts of pranks with them, and they laughed so heartily that, fearing the strangers, of whom there was no lack, might class them with the hieroduli who followed the sailors and young men in the temple grottoes, i motioned to taus to restrain herself. "hermon--this was the name of the tall, bearded man--noticed it and turned toward me. in doing so his eyes met mine, and it seemed as though sweet wine flowed through my veins, for i perceived that my appearance paralyzed his reckless tongue. yet he did not accost me; but myrtilus, the fair one, entreated me not to lessen for the beautiful children the pleasure to which we are all born. "i thought this remark foolish--how much sorrow and how little pleasure i had experienced from childhood!--so i only shrugged my shoulders disdainfully. "then the black-bearded man asked if, young and beautiful as i was, i had forgotten to believe in mirth and joy. my reply was intended to tell him that, though this was not the case, i did not belong to those who spent their lives in loud laughing and extravagant jests. "the answer was aimed at the black-bearded man's reckless conduct; but the fair-haired one parried the attack in his stead, and retorted that i seemed to misunderstand his friend. pleasure belonged to a festival, as light belonged to the sun; but usually hermon laboured earnestly, and only a short time before he had saved the little daughter of gula, the sailor's wife, from a burning house. "the other did not let myrtilus finish, but exclaimed that this would only confirm my opinion of him, for this very leap into the flames had afforded him the utmost joy. "the words fell from his bearded lips as if the affair was very simple, a mere matter of course, yet i knew that the bold deed had nearly cost him his life--i said to myself that no one but our abus would have done it, and then i may have looked at him more kindly, for he cried out that i, too, understood how to smile, and would never cease doing so if i knew how it became me. "as he spoke he turned away from the girls to my side, while myrtilus joined them. hermon's handsome face had become grave and thoughtful, and when our eyes met i could have wished that they would never part again. but on account of the others i soon looked down at the ground and we walked on in this way, side by side, for some distance; but as he did not address a word to me, only sometimes gazed into my face as if seeking or examining, i grew vexed and asked him why he, who had just entertained the others gaily enough, had suddenly become so silent. "he shook his head and answered--every word impressed itself firmly upon my memory: 'because speech fails even the eloquent when confronted with a miracle.' "what, except me and my beauty, could be meant by that? but he probably perceived how strangely his words confused me, for he suddenly seized my hand, pressing it so firmly that it hurt me, and while i tried to withdraw it he whispered, 'how the immortals must love you, that they lend you so large a share of their own divine beauty!'" "greek honey," interposed the sorceress, "but strong enough to turn such a poor young head. and what more happened? the demons desire to hear all--all--down to the least detail--all!" "the least detail?" repeated ledscha reluctantly, gazing into vacancy as if seeking aid. then, pressing her hand on her brow, she indignantly exclaimed: "ah, if i only knew myself how it conquered me so quickly! if i could understand and put it into intelligible words, i should need no stranger's counsel to regain my peace of mind. but as it is! i was driven by my anxiety from temple to temple, and now to you and your demons. i went from hour to hour as though in a burning fever. if i left the house firmly resolved to bethink myself and, as i had bidden my sister, avoid danger and the gossip of the people, my feet still led me only where he desired to meet me. oh, and how well he understood how to flatter, to describe my beauty! surely it was impossible not to believe in it and trust its power!" here she hesitated, and while gazing silently into vacancy a sunny light flitted over her grave face, and, drawing a long breath, she began again: "i could curse those days of weakness and ecstasy which now--at least i hope so--are over. yet they were wonderfuly beautiful, and never can i forget them!" here she again bowed her head silently, but the old dame nodded encouragingly, saying eagerly; "well, well! i understand all that, and i shall learn what more is coming, for whatever appears in the mirror of the wine is infallible--but it must become still more distinct. let me-first conjure up the seventy-seven great and the seven hundred and seventy-seven little demons. they will do their duty, if you open your heart to us without reserve." this demand sounded urgent enough, and ledscha pressed her head against the old woman's shoulder as if seeking assistance, exclaiming: "i can not--no, i can not! as if the spirits who obey you did not know already what had happened and will happen in the future! let them search the depths of my soul. there they will see, with their own eyes, what i should never, never succeed in describing. i could not tell even you, grandmother, for who among the biamites ever found such lofty, heartbewitching words as hermon? and what looks, what language he had at command, when he desired to put an end to my jealous complaints! could i still be angry with him, when he confessed that there were other beauties here whom he admired, and then gazed deep into my eyes and said that when i appeared they all vanished like the stars at sunrise? then every reproach was forgotten, and resentment was transformed into doubly ardent longing. this, however, by no means escaped his keen glance, which detects everything, and so he urged me with touching, ardent entreaties to go with him to his studio, though but for one poor, brief hour." "and you granted his wish?" tabus anxiously interrupted. "yes," she answered frankly, "but it was the evening of the day before yesterday--that was the only time. secrecy--nothing, grand mother, was more hateful to me from childhood." "but he," the old woman again interrupted, "he--i know it--he praised it to you as the noblest virtue." a silent nod from ledscha confirmed this conjecture, and she added hesitatingly: "'only far from the haunts of men,' he said, 'when the light had vanished, did we hear the nightingale trill in the dark thickets. those are his own words, and though it angers you, grandmother, they are true." "until the secrecy is over, and the sun shines upon misery," the sorceress answered in her faltering speech, with menacing severity. "and beneath the tempter's roof you enjoyed the lauded secret love until the cock roused you?" "no," replied ledscha firmly. "did i ever tell you a lie, that you look at me so incredulously?" "incredulously?" replied the old woman in protest. "i only trembled at the danger into which you plunged." "there could be no greater peril," the girl admitted. "i foresaw it clearly enough, and yet--this is the most terrible part of it--yet my feet moved as if obeying a will of their own, instead of mine, and when i crossed his threshold, resistance was silenced, for i was received like a princess. the lofty, spacious apartment was brilliantly illuminated, and the door was garlanded with flowers. "it was magnificent! then, in a manner as respectful as if welcoming an illustrious guest, he invited me to take my place opposite to him, that he might form a goddess after my model. this was the highest flattery of all, and i willingly assumed the position he directed, but he looked at me from every side, with sparkling eyes, and asked me to let down my hair and remove the veil from the back of my head. then--need i assure you of it?--my blood boiled with righteous indignation; but instead of being ashamed of the outrage, he raised his hand to my head and pulled the veil. resentment and wrath suddenly flamed in my soul, and before he could detain me i had left the room. in spite of his representations and entreaties, i did not enter it again." "yet," asked the sorceress in perplexity, "you once more obeyed his summons?" "yesterday also i could not help it," ledscha answered softly. "fool!" cried tabus indignantly, but the girl exclaimed, in a tone of sincere shame: "you do well to call me that. perhaps i deserve still harsher names, for, in spite of the sternness with which i forbade him ever to remind me of the studio by even a single word, i soon listened to him willingly when he besought me, if i really loved him, not to refuse what would make him happy. if i allowed him to model my figure, his renown and greatness would be secured. and how clearly he made me understand this! i could not help believing it, and at last promised that, in spite of my father and the women of tennis, i would grant all, all, and accompany him again to the work room if he would have patience until the night of the next day but one, when the moon would be at the full." "and he?" asked tabus anxiously. "he called the brief hours which i required him to wait an eternity," replied the girl, "and they seemed no less long to me--but neither entreaties nor urgency availed; what you predicted for me from the cords last year strengthened my courage. i should wantonly throw away-i constantly reminded myself--whatever great good fortune fate destined for me if i yielded to my longing and took prematurely what was already so close at hand; for--do you remember?--at that time it was promised that on a night when the moon was at the full a new period of the utmost happiness would begin for me. and now--unless everything deceives me-now it awaits me. whether it will come with the full moon of to-morrow night, or the next, or the following one, your spirits alone can know; but yesterday was surely too soon to expect the new happiness." "and he?" asked the old dame. "he certainly did not make it easy for me," was the reply, "but as i remained firm, he was obliged to yield. i granted only his earnest desire to see me again this evening. i fancy i can still hear him exclaim, with loving impetuosity, that he hated every day and every night which kept him from me. and now? now? for another's sake he lets me wait for him in vain, and if his slave does not lie, this is only the beginning of his infamous, treacherous game." she had uttered the last words in a hoarse cry, but tabus answered soothingly: "hush, child, hush! the first thing is to see clearly, if i am to interpret correctly what is shown me here. the demons are to be fully informed they have required it. but you? did you come to hear whether the spirits still intend to keep the promise they made then?" ledscha eagerly assented to this question, and the old woman continued urgently: "then tell me first what suddenly incenses you so violently against the man whom you have so highly praised?" the girl related what had formerly been rumoured in tennis, and which she had just heard from the slave. he had lured other women--even her innocent young sister--to his studio. now he wanted to induce ledscha to go there, not from love, but merely to model her limbs so far as he considered them useful for his work. he was in haste to do so because he intended to return to the capital immediately. whether he meant to leave her in the lurch after using her for his selfish purposes, she also desired to learn from the sorceress. but she would ask him that question herself to-morrow. woe betide him if the spirits recognised in him the deceiver she now believed him. hitherto tabus had listened quietly, but when she closed her passionate threats with the exclamation that he also deserved punishment for alienating gula, the sailor's wife, from her absent husband, the enchantress also lost her composure and cried out angrily: "if that is true, if the greek really committed that crime--then certainly. the foreigners destroy, with their laughing levity, much that is good among us. we must endure it; but whoever broke the biamite's marriage bond, from the earliest times, forfeited his life, and so, the gods be thanked, it has remained. this very last year the fisherman phabis killed with a hammer the alexandrian clerk who had stolen into his house, and drowned his faithless wife. but your lover--though you should weep for sorrow till your eyes are red--" "i would denounce the traitor, if he made himself worthy of death," ledscha passionately interrupted, with flashing eyes. "what portion of the slave's charge is true will appear at once--and if it proves correct, to morrow's full moon shall indeed bring me the greatest bliss; for though, when i was younger and happier, i contradicted abus when he declared that one thing surpassed even the raptures of love--satisfied vengeance--now i would agree with him." a loud cry of "right! right!" from the old crone's lips expressed the gray-haired biamite's pleasure in this worthy daughter of her race. then she again gazed at the wine in the vessel, and this time she did so silently, as if spellbound by the mirror on its bottom. at last, raising her aged head, she said in a tone of the most sincere compassion: "poor child! yes, you would be cruelly and shamefully deceived. tear your love for this man from your heart, like poisonous hemlock. but the full moon which is to bring you great happiness is scarcely the next, perhaps not even the one which follows it, but surely and certainly a later one will rise, by whose light the utmost bliss awaits you. true, i see it come from another man than the greek." the girl had listened with panting breath. she believed as firmly in the infallibility of the knowledge which the witch received from the demons who obeyed her as she did in her own existence. all her happiness, all that had filled her joyous soul with freshly awakened hopes, now lay shattered at her feet, and sobbing aloud she threw herself down beside the old woman and buried her beautiful face in her lap. completely overwhelmed by the great misfortune which had come upon her, without thinking of the vengeance which had just made her hold her head so proudly erect, or the rare delight which a later full moon was to bring, she remained motionless, while the old woman, who loved her and who remembered an hour in the distant past when she herself had been dissolved in tears at the prediction of another prophetess, laid her trembling hand upon her head. let the child weep her fill. time, perhaps vengeance also, cured many a heartache, and when they had accomplished this office upon the girl who had once been betrothed to her grandson, perhaps the full moon bringing happiness, whose appearance first the cords, then the wine mirror in the bottom of the vessel had predicted, would come to ledscha, and she believed she knew at whose side the girl could regain what she had twice lost--satisfaction for the young heart that yearned for love. "only wait, wait," she cried at last, repeating the consoling words again and again, till ledscha raised her tear-stained face. impulse urged her to kiss the sufferer, but as she bent over the mourner the copper dish slipped from her knees and fell rattling on the floor. ledscha started up in terror, and at the same moment the alexandrian's packs of hounds on the shore opposite to the owl's nest began to bark so loudly that the deaf old woman heard the baying as if it came from a great distance; but the girl ran out into the open air and, returning at the end of a few minutes, called joyously to the sorceress from the threshold, "they are coming!" "they, they," faltered tabus, hurriedly pushing her disordered gray hair under the veil on the back of her head, while exclaiming, scarcely able to use her voice in her joyous excitement: "i knew it. he keeps his word. my satabus is coming. the ducks, the bread, the fish, girl! good, loyal heart." then a wide, long shadow fell across the dimly lighted room, and from the darkened threshold a strangely deep, gasping peal of laughter rang from a man's broad breast. "satabus! my boy!" the witch's shriek rose above the peculiar sound. "mother!" answered the gray-bearded lips of the pirate. for one short moment he remained standing at the door with outstretched arms. then he took a step toward the beloved being from whom he had been separated more than two years, and suddenly throwing himself down before her, while his huge lower limbs covered part of the floor, he stretched his hands toward the little crooked old woman, who had not strength to rise from her crouching posture, and seizing her with loving impetuosity, lifted her as if she were a child, and placing her on his knees, drew her into a close embrace. tabus willingly submitted to this act of violence, and passing her thin left arm around her son's bull neck with her free hand, patted his bearded cheeks, wrinkled brow, and bushy, almost white hair. no intelligible words passed the lips of either the mother or the son at this meeting; nothing but a confused medley of tender and uncouth natural sounds, which no language knows. yet they understood each other, and ledscha, who had moved silently aside, also comprehended that these low laughs, moans, cries, and stammers were the expressions of love of two deeply agitated hearts, and for a moment an emotion of envy seized her. the gods had early bereft her of her mother, while this savage fighter against the might of the waves, justice, law, and their pitiless, too powerful defenders, this man, already on the verge of age, still possessed his, and sunned his rude heart in her love. it was some time before the old pirate had satisfied his yearning for affection and placed his light burden down beside the fire. tabus now regained the power to utter distinct words, and, difficult as it was for her half paralyzed tongue to speak, she poured a flood of tender pet names and affectionate thanks upon the head of her rude son, the last one left, who had grown gray in bloody warfare; but with the eyes of her soul she again saw in him the little boy whom, with warm maternal love, she had once pressed to her breast and cradled in her arms. when, in his rough fashion, he warmly returned her professions of tenderness, her eyes grew wet with tears, and at the question what he could still find in her, a withered, good-for-nothing little creature who just dragged along from one day to another, an object of pity to herself, he again burst into his mighty laugh, and his deep voice shouted: "do you want to know that? but where would be the lime that holds us on the ships if you were no longer here? the best capture wouldn't be worth a drachm if we could not say, 'hurrah! how pleased the old mother will be when she hears it!' and when things go badly, when men have been wounded or perished in the sea, we should despair of our lives if we did not know that whatever troubles our hearts the old mother feels, too, and we shall always get from her the kind words needed to press on again. and then, when the strait is sore and life is at stake, whence would come the courage to cast the die if we did not know that you are with us day and night, and will send your spirits to help us if the need is great? hundreds of times they rushed to our aid just at the right time, and assisted us to hew off the hand of the foe which was already choking us. but that is only something extra, which we could do without, if necessary. that you are here, that a man still has his dear mother, whose heart wishes us everything good and our foes death and destruction, whose aged eyes will weep if anything harms us, that, mother dear, that is the main thing!" he bent his clumsy figure over her as he spoke, and cautiously, as if he were afraid of doing her some injury, kissed her head with tender care. then, rising, he turned to ledscha, whom he always regarded as his dead son's betrothed bride, and greeted her with sincere kindness. her great beauty strengthened his plan of uniting her to his oldest son, and when the latter entered the house he cast a searching glance at him. the result was favourable, for a smile of satisfaction flitted over his scarred features. the young pirate's stately figure was not inferior in height to the old one's, but his shoulders were narrower, his features less broad and full, and his hair and beard had the glossy raven hue of the blackbird's plumage. the young man paused on the threshold in embarrassment, and gazed at ledscha with pleased surprise. when he saw her last his grandmother had not been stricken by paralysis, and the girl was the promised wife of his older brother, to whom custom forbade him to raise his eyes. he had thought of her numberless times as the most desirable of women. now nothing prevented his wooing her, and finding her far more beautiful than memory had showed her, strengthened his intention of winning her. this purpose had matured in the utmost secrecy. he had concealed it even from his father and his brother labaja, who was still keeping watch on the ships, for he had a reserved disposition, and though obliged to obey his father, wherever it was possible he pursued his own way. though satabus shared hanno's wish, it vexed him that at this meeting, after so long a separation, his son should neglect his beloved and honoured mother for the sake of a beautiful girl. so, turning his back on ledscha, he seized the young giant's shoulder with a powerful grip to drag him toward the old woman; but hanno perceived his error, and now, in brief but affectionate words, showed his grandmother that he, too, rejoiced at seeing her again. the sorceress gazed at her grandson's stalwart figure with a pleasant smile, and, after welcoming him, exclaimed to ledscha: "it seems as if abus had risen from the grave." the girl vouchsafed her dead lover's brother a brief glance, and, while pouring oil upon the fish in the pan, answered carelessly: "he is a little like him." "not only in person," remarked the old pirate, with fatherly pride, and pointing to the broad scar across the young man's forehead, visible even in the dim light, he added by way of explanation: "when we took vengeance for abus, he bore away that decoration of honour. the blow nearly made him follow his brother, but the youth first sent the souls of half a dozen enemies to greet him in the nether world." then ledscha held out her hand to hanno, and permitted him to detain it till an ardent glance from his black eyes met hers, and she withdrew it blushing. as she did so she said to tabus: "you can put them on the fire, and there stands whatever else you need. i must go home now." in taking leave of the men she asked if she could hope to find them here again the next day. "the full moon will make it damnably light," replied the father, "but they will scarcely venture to assail the right of asylum, and the ships anchored according to regulation at tanis, with a cargo of wood from sinope. besides, for two years people have believed that we have abandoned these waters, and the guards think that if we should return, the last time to choose would be these bright nights. still, i should not like to decide anything positively about the morrow until news came from labaja." "you will find me, whatever happens," hanno declared after his father had ceased speaking. old tabus exchanged a swift glance with her son, and satabus said: "he is his own master. if i am obliged to go--which may happen--then, my girl, you must be content with the youth. besides, you are better suited to him than to the graybeard." he shook hands with ledscha as he spoke, and hanno accompanied her to her boat. at first he was silent, but as she was stepping into the skiff he repeated his promise of meeting her here the following night. "very well," she answered quickly. "perhaps i may have a commission to give you." "i will fulfil it," he answered firmly. "to-morrow, then," she called, "unless something unexpected prevents." but when seated on the thwart she again turned to him, and asked: "does it need a long time to bring your ship, with brave men on board, to this place?" "we can be here in four hours, and with favourable winds still sooner," was the reply. "even if it displeases your father?" "even then, and though the gods, many as there are, should forbid--if only your gratitude will be gained." "it will," she answered firmly, and the water plashed lightly under the strokes of her oars. etext editor's bookmarks: cast my warning to the winds, pity will also fly away with it must--that word is a ploughshare which suits only loose soil tender and uncouth natural sounds, which no language knows there is nothing better than death, for it is peace tone of patronizing instruction assumed by the better informed wait, child! what is life but waiting? this ebook was produced by david widger <widger@cecomet.net> [note: there is a short list of bookmarks, or pointers, at the end of the file for those who may wish to sample the author's ideas before making an entire meal of them. d.w.] barbara blomberg by georg ebers volume 5. chapter xxi. the emperor charles loved his sister mary, and he now desired to show her how dear she was to his heart. she had been obliging to him, and he had in mind the execution of a great enterprise which she had hitherto zealously opposed, yet for which he needed her co-operation. it satisfied him to know that the father of his love would be absent from ratisbon for the present. he did not care who accompanied him. when the regent reproached him for having taken sir wolf hartschwert from her without a word of consultation, although she was unwilling to spare him, he had instantly placed wolf at her disposal again. the simplest and cheapest plan would have been to let blomberg pursue his journey alone; but the monarch feared that the despatch might not be quickly delivered if anything happened to the old man on the way, and he had said before witnesses that he would not allow him to go without companionship. he scarcely thought of barbara's filial feeling. she loved him, and the place which she gave to any one else in her heart could and must therefore be extremely small. how powerfully the passionate love for this girl had seized him he dared not confess to himself. but he rejoiced in the late love which rejuvenated him and filled him with a joy in existence whose fresh blossoming would have seemed impossible a few days before. how superb a creature he had found in this german city, from which, since its change of religion, he had withdrawn his former favour! in his youth his heart had throbbed ardently for many a fair woman, but she surpassed in beauty, in swift intelligence, in fervour, in artistic ability, and, above all, in sincere, unfeigned devotion every one whom his faithful memory recalled. he would hold fast to the loved one who bestowed this happiness and fresh vigour of youth. to make warm the nest which was to receive his dear nightingale he had conquered the economy which was beginning to degenerate into avarice, and also intended to accomplish other sacrifices in order to procure her the position which she deserved. he no longer knew that he had wounded her deeply the night before. he was in the habit of casting aside whatever displeased him unless it appeared advantageous to impose restraint upon himself; and who would ever have dared to resist the expression of his indignation? had barbara obeyed her hasty temper and returned him a sharp answer, he certainly would not have forgotten it. the bare thought of her dispelled melancholy thoughts from his mind; the hope of soon seeing and hearing her again rendered him friendly and yielding to those about him. the trivial sin which this sweet love secret contained had been pardoned in the case of the man bound by no older obligation, after a slight penance, and now for the first time he fully enjoyed the wealth of the unexpected new happiness. it must also be acceptable to heaven, for this was distinctly shown by the more and more favourable turn of politics, and he held the return gift. that it was the right one was proved by the nature of the gratifying news brought by the very last despatches. they urged him directly toward the war which hitherto, from the most serious motives, he had avoided, and, as his royal sister correctly saw, would destroy a slowly matured, earnest purpose; for it forced him to renounce the hope of effecting at trent a reformation of the church according to his own ideas, and a restoration of the unity of religion in a peaceful manner by yielding on one side and reasonable concessions on the other. he had long since perceived that many things in the old form of religion needed reformation. if war was declared, he would be compelled to resign the hope that these would be undertaken by rome, and the opposition, the defiance, the bold rebellion of the protestant princes destroyed every hope of propitiation on their part. they were forcing him to draw the sword, and he might venture to do so at this time, for he need now feel no fear of serious opposition from any of the great powers around him. maurice of saxony, too, was on the point of withdrawing from the smalkalds and becoming his ally; so, with the assistance of heaven, he might hope to win the victory for the cause of the church, and with it also that of the crown. with regard to the probability of this war, he had much to expect from the activity of his sister in the netherlands, and though she now advocated peace, in the twelfth hour, which must soon strike, he could rely upon her. yet she was a woman, and it was necessary to bind her to him by every tie of the heart and intellect. he loved barbara as warmly as he was capable of loving; but had mary that evening required his separation from the singer as the price of her assistance in promoting his plans, the desire of the heart would perhaps have yielded to the wishes of the statesman. but the regent did not impose this choice; she did not grudge him his late happiness, and gratefully appreciated the transformation which barbara's rare gifts had wrought. the affectionate sister's heart wished that the bond which produced so favourable a result might be of the longest possible duration, and she had therefore personally attended to the furnishing of the prebrunn house, and made all sorts of arrangements to render barbara's life with the marquise, not only endurable, but pleasant. the emperor had allowed a considerable sum for this purpose, but she did not trouble herself about the amount allotted. if she exceeded it, charles must undertake the payment, whether he desired it or not. her vivid imagination had showed her how she, in the emperor's place, would treat the object of his love, and she acted accordingly, without questioning him or the girl for whom her arrangements were made. nothing was too expensive for the favoured being who dispelled the emperor's melancholy, and she had proved how much can be accomplished in a brief space where there is good will on all sides. by her orders entirely separate suites of apartments had been prepared for barbara and the marquise. quijada had selected four of her own saddle horses for the stable of the little castle, and supplied it with the necessary servants. her steward had been commissioned to provide the servants wanted in the kitchen, and one of her netherland officials had received orders to manage the household of the marquise and her companion, and in doing so to anticipate barbara's wishes in the most attentive manner. one of her best maids, the worthy and skilful frau lamperi, though she was reluctant to part with her, had been sent to prebrunn to serve barbara as garde-robiere. the advice that the emperor's love should take her own waiting maid also came from her. she knew the value, amid new circumstances, of a person long known and trusted. the idea that barbara would take her own maid with her rested, it is true, on the supposition that so well-dressed a young lady, who belonged to an ancient family, must as surely possess such a person as eyes and hands. barbara had just induced frau lerch to accompany her to prebrunn. the old woman's opposition had only been intended to extort more favourable terms. she knew nothing of the regent's arrangements. queen mary was grateful to charles for so readily restoring the useful sir wolf hartschwert, and when the latter presented himself he was received even more graciously than usual. she had some work ready for him. a letter in relation to the betrothal of her nieces, the daughters of king ferdinand, was to be sent to the imperial councillor schonberg at vienna. it must be written in german, because the receiver understood no other language. after she had told the knight the purpose of the letter, she left him; the vesper service summoned her, and afterward barbara detained her as she sang to the emperor, alone and accompanied by appenzelder's boy choir, several songs, and in a manner so thoroughly artistic that the queen lingered not only in obedience to her brother's wish, but from pleasure in the magnificent music, until the end of the concert. just as wolf, seated in the writing room, which was always at his disposal, finished the letter, the major-domo, don luis quijada, sought him. he had already intimated several times that he had something in view for him which promised to give wolf's life, in his opinion, a new and favourable turn. now he made his proposal. the duties imposed upon him by the service compelled him to live apart from his beloved, young, and beautiful wife, dona magdalena de ulloa, who had remained at his castle villagarcia in spain. she possessed but one true comforter in her solitude--music. but the person who had hitherto instructed her--the family chaplain--was dead. so far as his ability and his taste were concerned, it would have been easy to replace him, but quijada sought in his successor qualities which rarely adorned a single individual, but which he expected to find united in the knight. in the first place, the person he desired must be, like the chaplain, of noble birth; for to see his wife closely associated with a man of inferior station was objectionable to the spanish grandee, who was perhaps the most popular of all the officers in the army, not only on account of his valour in the field, but also for the kindly good will and absolute justice which he bestowed upon even the humblest soldier. that the chaplain's successor must be a good artist, thoroughly familiar with netherland and italian music, was a matter of course. but don luis also demanded from dona magdalena's new teacher and household companion graceful manners, a modest disposition, and, above all things, a character on which he could absolutely rely. not that he would have cherished any fears of the fidelity of the wife whom he honoured as the purest and noblest of her sex, and of whom he spoke to the knight with reverence and love; he desired only to guard her from any occurrence that might offend her. wolf listened in surprise. he had firmly resolved that on no account would he stay in ratisbon. what could he find save fresh anxiety and never-ending anguish of the heart if he remained near barbara, who disdained his love? he possessed little ambition. it was only for the sake of the woman he loved that he had recently made more active exertions, but with his excellent acquirements and the fair prospects which were open to him at the court, it seemed, even to his modest mind, too humble a fate to bury himself in a spanish castle in order to while away with music the lonely hours of a noblewoman, no matter how high her rank, how beautiful and estimable she might be, or how gladly he would render her admirable husband a favour. quijada had said this to himself, and perceived plainly enough what was passing in the young knight's thoughts. so he frankly confessed that he was well aware how few temptations his invitation offered a man endowed with wolf's rare advantages, but he came by no means with empty hands--and he now informed the listening musician what he could offer him. this certainly gave his proposal a different aspect. the aristocratic quijada family--and as its head he himself--had in its gift a rich living, which annually yielded thousands of ducats, in the great capital of valladolid. many a son of a distinguished race sought it, but he wished to bestow it upon wolf. it would insure him more than a comfortable support, permit him to marry the woman of his choice, and, if he remained several years in villagarcia, afford him the possibility of accumulating a neat little property, as he would live in quijada's castle as a welcome guest and scarcely ever be obliged to open his purse strings. besides, music was cultivated in valladolid, and if don luis introduced him to the clergy there, it might easily happen that they would avail themselves of his great knowledge and fine ability and intrust to him the amendment and perhaps, finally, the direction of the church music. as dona magdalena often spent several months with her brother, the marquis rodrigo de la mota, wolf could from time to time be permitted to visit the netherlands or italy to participate in the more active musical life of these countries. wolf listened to this explanation with increasing attention. the narrow path which buried itself in the sand was becoming a thoroughfare leading upward. he was glad that he had withheld his refusal; but this matter was so important that the prudent young man, after warmly thanking don luis for his good opinion, requested some time for consideration. true, quijada could assure him that, for the sake of his wife, dona magdalena de ulloa, whom from childhood she had honoured with her special favour, the regent would place no obstacle in the way of his retirement from her service. but wolf begged him to have patience with him. he was not a man to make swift decisions, and nowhere could he reflect better than in the saddle during a long ride. he would inform him of his determination by the first messenger despatched from brussels to the emperor. even now he could assure him that this generous offer seemed very tempting, since solitude always had far more charm for him than the noisy bustle of the court. quijada willingly granted the requested delay, and, before bidding him farewell, wolf availed himself of the opportunity to deliver into his hands the papers collected by his adopted father, which he had on his person. they contained the proof that he was descended from the legal marriage of a knight and a baroness; and don luis willingly undertook to have them confirmed by the emperor, and his patent renewed in a way which, if he accepted his proposal, might also be useful to him in spain. so wolf took leave of the major-domo with the conviction that he possessed a true friend in this distinguished man. if the regent did not arbitrarily detain him, he would show himself in villagarcia to be worthy of his confidence. on the stairs he met the emperor's confessor, don pedro de soto. wolf bowed reverently before the dignified figure of the distinguished dominican, and the latter, as he recognised him, paused to request curtly that he would give him a few minutes the following day. "if i can be of any service to your reverence," replied wolf, taking the prelate's delicate hand to kiss it; but the almoner, with visible coldness, withdrew it, repellently interrupting him: "first, sir knight, i must ask you for an explanation. where the plague is raging in every street, we ought to guard our own houses carefully against it." "undoubtedly," replied wolf, unsuspiciously. "but i shall set out early to-morrow morning with her majesty." "then," replied the dominican after a brief hesitation, "then a word with you now." he continued his way to the second story, and wolf, with an anxious mind, followed him into a waiting room, now empty, near the staircase. the deep seriousness in the keen eyes of the learned confessor, which could look gentle, indulgent, and sometimes even merry, revealed that he desired to discuss some matter of importance; but the very first question which the priest addressed to him restored the young man's composure. the confessor merely desired to know what took him to the house of the man who must be known to him as the soul of the evangelical innovations in his native city, and the friend of martin luther. wolf now quietly informed him what offer dr. hiltner, as syndic of ratisbon, had made him in the name of the council. "and you?" asked the confessor anxiously. "i declined it most positively," replied wolf, "although it would have suited my taste to stand at the head of the musical life in my native city." "because you prefer to remain in the service of her majesty queen mary?" asked de soto. "no, your eminence. probably i shall soon leave the position near her person. i rather feared that, as a good catholic, i would find it difficult to do my duty in the service of an evangelical employer." "there is something in that. but what led the singer--you know whom i mean--to the same house?" wolf could not restrain a slight smile, and he answered eagerly: "the young lady and i grew up together under the same roof, your eminence, and she came for no other purpose than to bid me farewell. a lamb that clings more firmly to the shepherd, and more strongly abhors heresy, could scarcely be found in our redeemer's flock." "a lamb!" exclaimed the almoner with a slight touch of scorn. "what are we to think of the foe of heresy who exchanges tender kisses with the wife of the most energetic leader of protestantism?" "by your permission, your eminence," wolf asserted, "only the daughter offered her her lips. she and her mother made the singer's acquaintance at the musical exercises established here by the council. music is the only bond between them."--"yet there is a bond," cried de soto suspiciously. "if you see her again before your departure, advise her, in my name, to sever it. she found a friendly welcome and much kindness in that house, and here at least--tell her so--only one faith exists. a prosperous journey, sir knight." the delay caused by this conversation induced wolf to quicken his pace. it had grown late, and erasmus eckhart had surely been waiting some time for his school friend in the old precentor's house. this was really the case, but the wittenberg theologian, whose course of study had ended only a fortnight before, and who, with his long, brown locks and bright blue eyes, still looked like a gay young student, had had no reason to lament the delay. he was first received by ursel, who had left her bed and was moving slowly about the room, and how much the old woman had had to tell her young fellow-believer from wittenberg about martin luther, who was now no longer living, and professor melanchthon; but erasmus eckhart liked to talk with her, for as a schoolmate and intimate friend of wolf he had paid innumerable visits to the house, and received in winter an apple, in summer a handful of cherries, from her. the young man was still less disposed to be vexed with wolf for his delay when barbara appeared in ursel's room. erasmus had played with her, too, when he was a boy, and they shared a treasure of memories of the fairest portion of life. when wolf at last returned and barbara gave him her hand, erasmus envied him the affectionate confidence with which it was done. she was charged with the warmest messages from her father to the knight, and conscientiously delivered them. the old gentleman's companion had advised starting that evening, because experience taught that, on a long ride, it was better for man and beast to spend the night outside the city. they were to put up at the excellent tavern in winzer, an hour's journey from ratisbon, and continue the ride from that point. wolf knew that many couriers did the same thing, in order to avoid delay at the gate, and only asked whom her father had chosen for a companion. "a young nobleman who was here as a recruiting officer," replied barbara curtly. she had not heard until the last moment whom her father had selected, and had only seen pyramus kogel again while the captain's groom was buckling his knapsack upon the saddle. he had ridden to the house, and while she gazed past him, as though an invisible cap concealed him from her eyes, he asked whether she had no wish concerning her father at heart. "that some one else was to accompany him," came her sharp reply. then, before the captain put his foot into the stirrup, she threw her arms around the old man's neck, kissed him tenderly, and uttered loving wishes for him to take with him on his way. her father, deeply moved, at last swung himself into the saddle, commending her to the protection of the gracious virgin. it was not wholly easy for him to part with her, but the prospect of riding out into the world with a full purse, highly honoured by his imperial master, gratified the old adventure-loving heart so much that he could feel no genuine sympathy. too honest to feign an emotion which he did not experience, he behaved accordingly; and, besides, he was sure of leaving his child in the best care as in her earlier years, when, glad to leave the dull city, business, and his arrogant, never-satisfied wife behind, he had gone with a light heart to war. while pressing the horse's flanks between his legs and forcing the spirited animal, which went round and round with him in a circle, to obedience, he waved his new travelling hat; but barbara, meanwhile, was thinking that he could only leave her with his mind thus free from care because she was deceiving him, and, as her eyes rested on her father's wounded limb projecting stiffly into the air, bitter grief overwhelmed her. how often the old wounds caused him pain! other little infirmities, too, tortured him. who would bind them up on the journey? who would give him the medicine which afforded relief? then pity affected her more deeply than ever before, and it was with difficulty that she forced back the rising tears. her father might perhaps have noticed them, for one groom carried a torch, and the oneeyed maid's lantern was shining directly into her face. but while she was struggling not to weep aloud, emotion and anxiety for the old man who, through her fault, would be exposed to so much danger, extorted the cry: "take care of him, herr pyramus! i will be grateful to you." "that shall be a promise, lovely, ungracious maiden," the recruiting officer quickly answered. but the old man was already waving his hat again, his horse dashed upon the haidplatz at a gallop, and his companion, with gallant bearing, followed. barbara had then gone back into the house, and the maid-servant lighted her upstairs. it had become perfectly dark in her rooms, and the solitude and silence there oppressed her like a hundredweight burden. besides, terrible thoughts had assailed her, showing her herself in want and shame, despised, disdained, begging for a morsel of bread, and her father under his fallen horse, on his lonely, couch of pain, in his coffin. then her stay in her lonely rooms seemed unendurable. she would have lost her reason ere quijada came at midnight to conduct her for a short time to the golden cross. she could not remain long with her lover, because the servants were obliged to be up early in the morning on account of the regent's departure. with ursel she would be protected from the terrors of solitude, for, besides the old woman's voice, a man's tones also reached her through the open window. it was probably the companion of her childhood. in his society she would most speedily regain her lost peace of mind. in his place she had at first found only erasmus eckhart. the strong, bold boy had become a fine-looking man. a certain gravity of demeanour had early taken possession of him, and while his close-shut lips showed his ability to cling tenaciously to a resolution, his bright eyes sparkled with the glow of enthusiasm. barbara could believe in this young man's capacity for earnest, lofty aspiration, and for that very reason it had aroused special displeasure in her mind when he gaily recalled the foolish pranks, far better suited to a boy, into which as a child she had often allowed herself to be hurried. she felt as if, in doing so, he was showing her a lack of respect which he would scarcely have ventured toward a young lady whom he esteemed, and the petted singer, whom no less a personage than the emperor charles deemed worthy of his love, was unwilling to tolerate such levity from so young a man. she made no claim to reverence, but she expected admiration and the recognition of being an unusual person, who was great in her own way. for the sake of the monarch who raised her to his side, she owed it to herself to show, even in her outward bearing, that she did not stand too far below him in aristocratic dignity. she succeeded in this admirably during the conversation on music and singing which she carried on with erasmus. when she at last desired to return home, wolf accompanied her up the stairs, informed her of his conversation with the confessor, and at the same time warned her against incautious visits to the hiltners so long as the emperor held his court in ratisbon. to have fallen under suspicion of heresy would have been the last thing barbara expected, and she called it foolish, nay, ridiculous. but, ere she clasped wolf's hand in farewell, she promised to show the almoner at the first opportunity upon how false a trail he had come. chapter xxii. when wolf went back to erasmus the latter assured his friend that he had met no maiden in ratisbon who, to rare gifts, united the dignity which he had hitherto admired only in the ladies whom he had met at the court of the elector of saxony. his sparkling eyes flashed more brightly as he spoke, and, like a blushing girl, he confessed to his friend that jungfrau blomberg's promise to sing one of his own compositions to him made him a happy man. barbara's conduct had made the repressed fire of love blaze up anew in wolf. now, for the first time, the woman he loved fully and entirely fulfilled the ideal which he had formed of the "queen" of his heart. was it the sad separation from him, the taking leave of her father, or her new love, which was bestowed on a man whom he also esteemed, that impressed upon her nature the stamp of a nobility which beseemed her as well as it suited her aristocratic beauty? never had it appeared to him so utterly impossible that he could yield her to another without resistance. perhaps the man chosen by such a jewel was more worthy than he, but no one's love could surpass his in strength and fervour. she had tested it, and he need no longer call himself an insignificant suitor; for, if he gained possession of the living which don luis had ready for him, if he obtained a high position in valladolid--but his friend gave him no time to pursue such thoughts further, for, while barbara shortly after midnight stole down the stairs like a criminal, and quijada conducted her to her imperial lover, erasmus began to press him with demands which he was obliged to reject. the wittenberg master of arts, ever since his first meeting with his friend, had been on the point of asking the question how he, who had obtained in the school of poets an insight into the pure word of god, could prevail upon himself to continue to wear the chains of rome and remain a catholic. wolf had expected this query, and, while he filled his companion's goblet with the good wurzburg wine which ursula provided, he begged him not to bring religion into their conversation. the young wittenberg theologian, however, had come for the express purpose of discussing it with his friend. religion, he asserted in the fervid manner characteristic of him, was in these times the axis around which turned the inner life of the world and every individual. he himself had resolved to live for the object for whose sake it was worth while to die. he knew the great perils which would be associated with it for one of his warlike temperament, but he had become, by the divine summons, an evangelical theologian, a combatant for the liberation of the slaves sighing under the tyranny of rome. a serious conversation with a friend who was a german and resisted yielding to a movement of the spirit which was kindling the inmost depths of the german nature, thoughts, and feelings, and was destined to heal the woes of the german nation and preserve it from the basest abuse, would be to him inconceivable. wolf interrupted this avowal with the assurance that he must nevertheless decline a religious discussion with him, for the weapons they would use were too different. erasmus, as a theologian, was deeply versed in the protestant faith, while he professed catholicism merely as a consequence of his birth and with a layman's understanding and knowledge. yet he would not shun the conflict if his hands were not bound by the most sacred of oaths. then he turned to the past, and while he himself, as it were, lived through for the second time the most affecting moment in his existence, he transported his friend to his dead mother's sick-bed. in vivid language he described how the devout widow and nun implored her son to resist like a rock in the sea the assault of the new heretical ideas, that the thousands of prayers which she had uttered for him, for his soul, and his father's, might not be vain. then wolf confessed that just at that time, as a pupil in the school of poets, he had come under the influence of the scholar naevius, whose evangelical views erasmus knew, and related how difficult it had been for him to take the oath which, nevertheless, now that he had once sworn it, he would keep, even though life and his own intelligence would not have taught him to prefer the old faith to every new doctrine, whether it emanated from luther, from calvin, or from zwingli. for a short time erasmus found no answer to this statement, and wolf's old nurse, who herself clung to the protestants from complete conviction, and had listened attentively to his words, urged her young co-religionist, by all sorts of signs, to respect his friend's decision. the confession of his schoolmate had not been entirely without effect upon the young theologian. the name of "mother" also filled him with reverence. true, his birth had cost his own mother her life, but he had long possessed a distinct idea of her nature and being, and had given her precisely the same position which, in the early days of his school life, the virgin mary had occupied. to induce another to break a vow made to his mother would have been sinful. but a brief reflection changed his mind. were there not circumstances in which the bible itself commanded a man to leave father and mother? had not jesus christ made the surrender of every old relation and the following after him the duty of those who were to become his disciples? what was the meaning of the words the saviour had uttered to his august mother, "woman, what have i to do with thee?" except it was commanded to turn even from the mother when religion was at stake? many another passage of scripture had strengthened the courage of the young bible student when at last, with a look of intelligence, he pledged wolf, and remarking, "how could i venture the attempt to lead you to break so sacred an oath?" instantly brought forward every plea that a son who, in religious matters, followed a different path from his mother could allege in his justification. a short time before, in brussels, wolf had seen a superior of the new society of jesus, whose members were now appearing everywhere as defenders of the violently assailed papacy, seek to win back to catholicism the son of evangelical parents with the very same arguments. he told his friend this, and also expressed the belief that the jesuit, too, had spoken in good faith. erasmus shrugged his shoulders, saying "doubtless there are many mansions in our father's house, but who will blame us if we left the dilapidated old one, where our liberty was restricted and our consciences were burdened, and preferred the new one, in which man is subject to no other mortal, but only to the plain words of the bible and to the judge in his own breast? if we prefer this mansion, which stands open to every one whose heart the old one oppresses, to the ruinous one of former days----" "yet," interrupted wolf, "you must say to yourselves that you leave behind in the old one much which the new one lacks, no matter with how many good things you may equip it. the history of our religion and its development does not belong to your new home--only to the old one." "we stand upon it as every newer thing rests on the older," replied erasmus eagerly. "what we cast aside and refuse to take into the new home with us is not the holy faith, but merely its deformity, abasement, and falsification." "call it so," replied wolf calmly. "i have heard others name and interpret differently what you probably have in mind while using these harsh epithets. but is it not the old house, and that alone, in which the martyrs shed their blood for christianity? where did it fulfil its lofty task of saturating the heart of mankind with love, softening the customs of rude pagans, clearing away forests, transforming barren wastes into cultivated fields, planting the cross on chapels and churches, summoning men with the consecrated voice of the bell to the sermon which proclaims love and peace? where did it open the doors of the school which prepares the intellect to satisfy its true destiny, and first qualifies man to become the image of god? by the old mansion this country, covered with marshes, moors; and impenetrable forests, was rendered what it now is; from it proceeded that fostering of science and the arts of which as yet i have seen little in your circles." "give us time," cried the theologian, "and perhaps in our home their flowering will attain an unsurpassed richness of development. with what loose bonds the humanists are still united to you!" "and the finest intellect of all, the great scholar whose name you bear, though he deemed many things in our old home deserving of improvement, remained with us until his death. jesus christ is one, and so his church must also remain. the only question is, what the saviour still is to you protestants, what he is to you, my friend?" "before how many saints, and many another whom your church desires to honour, do you bow the knee?" erasmus fervidly answered; "but we do so only to the august trinity. and do you wish to know what jesus christ, the son, is to me? all, and more than all, is the answer; i live and breathe in my saviour jesus christ, the same yesterday, to-day, and throughout eternity." the young theologian raised his sparkling eyes heavenward as he spoke, and continued: "our doctrine is founded on him, his word, his love alone; and who among the enthusiastic heralds of christianity in ancient times grasped faith in him with warmer sincerity than the very martin luther whom you would have led to the stake had not the emperor charles's plighted word been dearer to him than the approval of rome? oh, my friend, our young faith can also show its martyrs. think of the bohemian john huss and the true christians who, in the netherlands and spain, were burned at the stake and bled upon the scaffold because they read the bible, the word of god and their saviour, and would rather die than deny it. if it should come to the worst, thousands here would also be ready to ascend the funeral pyre, and i at their head. if war is declared now, the emperor charles will gain the victory; and if he does not wish to withdraw in earnest from romish influences, who can tell what will then await us protestants? but i am not anxious about what may come. we german citizens, who are accustomed to guide our own destinies and maintain the system of government we arranged for ourselves, who built by our own strength our solid, comfortable, gable-roofed houses and noble, towering cathedrals, will also independently maintain the life of our minds and our souls. rome, with her legions of priests, claimed the right not only to interfere in our civil life, but also to intrude into our houses, our married lives, and our nurseries. what could she not decide for the individual by virtue of the power she arrogates to bind and to loose, to forgive sins, and to open or to close the door of heaven for the dying? what she has done with the church's gifts of grace we know. "there is a deep, beautiful meaning underlying this idea. but it has degenerated into a base traffic in indulgences. we have sincere natures. for a long time we believed that salvation is gained by works--gifts to the church, fasts, scourgings, seclusion from the world, self-confinement in a cell--and our wealth went to rome. rarely do we look vainly in the most beautiful sites on mountain or by river for a monastery! but at last the sound sense of germany rebelled, and when luther saw in rome poor sufferers from gout and cripples ascending the stairs of the lateran on their knees, a voice within cried out to him the great 'sola fide' on which our faith is founded. on it alone, on devotion to jesus christ, depends our salvation." "then," asked wolf, "you boldly deny any saving power to good works?" "yes," was the firm reply, "so far as they do not proceed from faith." "as if the church did not impose the same demand!" replied wolf in a more animated tone. "true, base wrong has been done in regard to the sale of indulgences, but at the council of trent opposition will be made to it. no estimable priest holds the belief that money can atone for a sin or win the mercy of heaven. with us also sincere repentance or devout faith must accompany the gift, the fasting, and whatever else the believer imposes upon himself here below. man is so constituted that the only things which make a deep impression are those that the body also feels. the teacher's blow has a greater effect than his words, a gift produces more willingness than an entreaty, and the tendency toward asceticism and penance is genuinely christian, and belongs to many a people of a different faith. your erasmus said that his heart was catholic, but his stomach desired to be protestant. you have an easier task than we." "on the contrary," the young theologian burst forth. "it is mere child's play for you to obtain forgiveness by acts which really do not cut deeply into the flesh; but if one of us errs, how hard must be the conflict in his own breast ere he attains the conviction that his guilt is expiated by deep repentance and better deeds!" "i can answer for that," here interposed old ursel, who from her armchair had listened to the conversation between the two with intense interest. "good heavens! one went forth from the confessional as pure as a white dove after absolution had been received and the penance performed; but now that i belong to the protestants, it is hard to reach a perfect understanding with the dear saviour and one's self." "and ought that to redound to the discredit of my faith?" asked wolf. "so far as i have learned to know men, the majority, at least, will not hasten to attain our ursel's complete understanding with one's self. i should even fear that there are many among you who no longer feel a desire to heed little sins and their forgiveness----" here ursel again interrupted him with an exclamation of dissent, accompanied by a gesture of denial from her thin old hand; but wolf glanced at the clock which the precentor had received as a testimonial of affection from the members of the cathedral choir, which he had led for years. it was already half past one, and for the sake of ursel, who was still obliged to take care of herself, he urged departure, adding gaily that he had not the ability to "defend himself against two." erasmus, too, was surprised to find it so late, and, after shaking hands with the old woman and promising to visit her soon again, seized his cap. wolf accompanied him. the may night was sultry, and the air in the low room had been hot and oppressive. he would gladly have dropped the useless discussion, but erasmus's heart was set upon winning his schoolmate to the doctrine which he believed with his whole soul. he toiled with the utmost zeal, but during their nocturnal walk also he failed to convince his opponent. both were true to their religion. erasmus saw in his faith the return to the pure teachings of christ and the liberation of the human soul from ancient fetters; wolf, who had had them pointed out to him at school by a protestant teacher, by no means denied the abuses that had crept into his, but he clung with warm love to holy church, which offered his soul an abundance of what it needed. his art certainly also owed to her its best development--from the inexhaustible spring of faith which is formed from thousands of rivulets and tributaries in the holy domain of the catholic church, and in it alone, the most sublime of all material flowed to the musician, and not to him only, but to the artist, the architect, and the sculptor. the fullest stream--he was well aware of it--came from ancient pagan times, but from whatever sources the spring was fed, the church had understood how to assimilate, preserve, and sanctify it. erasmus listened silently while wolf eagerly made these statements; but when the latter closed with the declaration that the evangelical faith would never attain the same power of elevating hearts, he interrupted the knight with the exclamation, "we shall have to wait for that!" luther, he went on, had given the most powerful encouragement to music, and the german protestant composers even now were not so very far behind the netherland ones. the catholic church could no longer claim the great albrecht durer, and, if art ceased to create images of the saints, with which the childish minds of the common people practised idolatry, so much the better. the infinite and eternal was no subject for the artist. the humanization of god only belittled his infinite and illimitable nature. earthly life offered art material enough. man himself would be the worthiest model for imitation, and perhaps no earlier epoch had created handsomer likenesses of men and women than would now be produced by evangelical artists. to their own surprise, during this conversation they had reached the hiltner house, and erasmus invited his friend to come to his room and over a glass of wine answer him, as he had had the last word. but wolf had already drunk at his own home more of the fiery wurzburg from the precentor's cellar than usual. besides, much as he still had to say in reply to erasmus, the sensible young man deemed it advisable to avoid the syndic's house for the present. the confessor's suspicion had been aroused, and de soto was a dominican, who certainly did not stand far from the holy inquisition. therefore while erasmus, with burning head and great excitement, was still urging his friend to come in, wolf unexpectedly bade him a hasty and resolute farewell. chapter xxiii. wolf left the hiltner house behind him with the feeling that he had upheld the cause of his church against the learned opponent to the best of his ability, and had not been defeated. yet he was not entirely satisfied. in former years he had read the hutten dialogues, and, though he disapproved of their assaults upon the holy father in rome, he had warmly sympathized with the fiery knight's love for his native land. far as, at the court of charles, the german ranked below the netherlander, the spaniard, and the italian, wolf was proud of being a german, and it vexed him that he had not at least made the attempt to repel the theologian's charge that the catholic, to whom the authority of rome was the highest, would be inferior to the protestant in patriotism. but he would have succeeded no better in convincing erasmus than the learned theologians who, at the emperor's instance, had held an earnest religious discussion in ratisbon a short time before, had succeeded in arriving at even a remote understanding. as he reached the haidplatz new questions of closer interest were casting these of supreme importance into the shade. he was to enter his home directly, and then the woman whom he loved would rest above him, and alone, unwatched, and unguarded, perhaps dream of another. who was the man for whose sake she withdrew from him the heart to whose possession he had the best and at any rate the oldest right? certainly not baron malfalconnet. neither could he believe it to be peter schlumperger or young crafft. yet perhaps the fortunate man belonged to the court. if that was the case, how easy would the game now be made for him with the girl, who was guarded by no faithful eye! his heart throbbed faster as he entered red cock street. the moon was still in the cloudless, starry sky, shining with her calm, silver radiance upon one side of the street. barbara's bow-window was touched by it, and--what did it mean?--a small lamp must still be burning in her room, for the window was illuminated, though but dimly. perhaps she had kept the light because she felt timid in her lonely chamber. now wolf crossed obliquely toward his house. just at that moment he saw the tall figure of a man. what was he doing there at this hour? was it a thief or a burglar? there was no lack of evil-disposed folk in this time of want. wolf still wore his court costume, and the short dress sword which belonged to it hung in its sheath. his heart beat quicker as he loosed the blade and advanced toward the suspicious night-bird. just then he saw the other calmly turn the big key and take it out of the door. that could be no thief! no, certainly not! it was a gentleman of tall stature, whose aristocratic figure and spanish court costume were partially covered by a long cloak. there was no doubt! wolf could not be mistaken, for, while the former was putting the key in his pocket, the mantle had slipped from one shoulder. "malfalconnet," muttered wolf, grasping the hilt of his short sword more firmly. but at the same moment the moonlight showed him the spaniard's face. a chill ran through his frame, followed by a feverish heat, for the nocturnal intruder into his house was not the baron, but quijada, the noble don luis, his patron, who had just been lauding to the skies the virtues, the beauty, the goodness of the peerless dona magdalena de ulloa, his glorious wife. he had intended to send wolf, the friend and housemate of his victim, to spain to become the instructor of his deceived wife. he saw through the game, and it seemed as if he could not help laughing aloud in delight at his own penetration, in rage and despair. how clearly, and yet how coarsely and brutally, it had all been planned! the infamous scoundrel, who possessed so much influence over the emperor, had first sent old blomberg away; now he, wolf, was to follow, that no one might stand between the game and the pursuer. barbara's lover must be quijada. for the spaniard's sake she had given him up, and perhaps even played the part of adviser in this abominable business. it must be so, for who else could know what she was to him? yet no! he himself had aided the guilty passion of this couple, for how warmly he had sung barbara's praises to don luis! and then in how many a conversation with barbara had quijada's name been mentioned, and he had always spoken of this man with warm regard. hence her remark that he himself deemed her lover worthy of esteem. in a few seconds these thoughts darted through his heated brain with the speed of lightning. the street began to whirl around him, and a deep loathing of the base traitor, a boundless hatred of the destroyer of his happiness, of the betrayed girl, and the life which led through such abysses overpowered the deluded man. the infamous girl had just left her lover's arms, her kiss was doubtless still glowing on his faithless lips! wolf groaned aloud like a sorely stricken deer, and for a moment it seemed to him that the best course would be to put an end to his own ruined life. but rage and hate urged him upon another victim, and, unable to control himself, he rushed with uplifted blade upon the hypocritical seducer. this utterly unexpected attack did not give don luis time to draw his sword, but, with ready presence of mind, he forced the hand wielding the weapon aside, and, while he felt a sharp pain in his left arm, seized the assassin with his right hand, swung his light figure upward, and with the strength and skill peculiar to him hurled it with all his might upon the stone steps of the dwelling. not a single word, only a savage cry of fury, followed by a piteous moan, had escaped wolf's lips during this swift deed of violence. the spaniard scornfully thrust aside with his foot the inert body lying on the ground. his arrogance did not deem it worth while to ascertain what had befallen the murderer who had been punished. he had more important things to do, for his own blood was flowing in a hot, full stream over his hand. accustomed in bull fighting and in battle to maintain his calmness and caution even in the most difficult situation, he said to himself that, if his wound should be connected with the murder before this house it would betray his master's secret to the ratisbon courts of justice, and thereby to the public. he had heard the skull of the lurking thief strike against the granite steps of the house. so the dark, motionless mass before him was probably a corpse. there was no hurry about that, but his own condition compelled him to take care of himself. entering the shadow of a tall building opposite the dwelling, he assured himself that the street was entirely empty, and then, drawing the aching arm from the doublet, he examined the wound as well as the dim light would permit. it was deep, it is true, but the robber's weapon appeared merely to have cut the flesh. a jerk, and quijada had stripped the ruff from his neck, and, as this did not suffice, he cut with his sword blade and his teeth a piece of fine linen from his shirt. this would do for the first bandage. the skilful hand which, in battle, had aided many a bleeding comrade soon completed the task. then he flung his uninjured cloak around him again, and turned toward the lifeless body at the foot of the steps. there lay the murderer's weapon--a delicately fashioned short dress sword, with an ivory hilt, not the knife of a common highwayman. that was the reason the wound was so narrow. but who had sought his life with this dainty steel blade? there were few at court who envied him the emperor's favour--his office often compelled him to deny even persons of higher rank access to his majesty; but he had never--this he could assure himself--treated even men of humble station harshly or unjustly. if he had offended any one by haughty self-confidence, it had been unintentional. he was not to blame for the manner natural to the castilian. besides, he had little time for reflection; scarcely had he hastily wiped off with the little cloak that lay beside him the blood which covered the face of the prostrate man than he started back in horror, for the person who had sought his life was the very one whom he had honoured with his highest confidence, and had chosen as the teacher and companion of the wife who was dearer than his own existence. some cruel misunderstanding, some pitiable mistake must have been at work here, and he came upon the right trail speedily enough. the hapless knight loved barbara, and had taken him, luis, for her betrayer and nocturnal visitor. fatal error of the emperor, whose lamentable consequences were already beginning! with sincere repentance for his needlessly violent act of defence, he bent over the severely injured man. his heart was still beating, but doubtless on account of the great loss of blood--it throbbed with alarming weakness. don luis also soon found a wound in the skull, which appeared to be fractured. if speedy aid was not rendered, the unfortunate man was lost. quijada laid wolf's head quickly and carefully on his cloak, which he placed in a roll beneath it, and then hurried to the red cock, where one servant was just opening the door and another was leading out two horses. the latter was jan, wolf's netherland servant, who wanted to water the animals before starting on the journey. he instantly recognised the nobleman; but the latter had resolved to keep the poor musician's attack a secret. as jan bowed respectfully to him, he ordered him and the servant of the red cock to leave everything and follow him. he had found a dead man in the street. a few minutes after the three were standing at the steps of the house, before the object of their solicitude. the groom of the red cock, who still held a lantern in his hand, though dawn was already beginning to glimmer faintly in the east, threw the light upon the face of the bleeding form, and jan exclaimed in grief and terror that the injured man was his master. the brabant lad wailed, and the german, who had known the "precentor cavalier" all his life, joined in the lamentation; but quijada induced them both to think only of saving the wounded nobleman. the old groom, with savage imprecations upon the scoundrels who now infested their quiet streets, raised the wounded man's head and told jan to lift his feet. both were familiar with the house, and, while the servants bore wolf up the narrow stairs, the proud spanish grandee lighted their way with the lantern, supporting the wounded man's injured head, with his free hand. at the door of the young knight's rooms he told the servants to attend to his needs, and then hurried back to the golden cross. he found a great bustle prevailing there. tilted wagons were being loaded with the regent's luggage, couriers and servants were rushing to and fro, and in the courtyard men were currying the horses which were to be ridden on the journey. don luis paid no heed to all this, hastening first to the chapel to ask a young german chaplain to administer the sacrament to sir wolf hartschwert, to whose house he hurriedly directed him. then going swiftly to the third story, he waked dr. mathys, the emperor's leech. the portly physician rubbed his eyes angrily; but as soon as he learned for whom he was wanted and how serious was the injury, he showed the most praiseworthy haste and, with the attendant who carried his surgical instruments and medicines, was standing beside the sufferer's couch almost as soon as the wounded man. the result of his examination was anything but gratifying. he would gladly do all that his skill would permit for the knight, but in so serious a fracture of the skull only the special mercy of heaven could preserve life. dr. doll, the best physician in ratisbon, assisted him with the bandaging, and old ursel had suddenly recovered her lost strength. when the maid-servant asked timidly if she should not call wawerl down from upstairs, she shrugged her shoulders with a movement which the oneeyed girl understood, and which signified anything but acceptance of the proposal. yet barbara would perhaps have rendered most efficacious assistance. true, she was still sleeping the sound slumber of wearied youth. directly after her return from her imperial lover, she had gone to rest in the little chamber behind the bow-windowed room. it looked out upon the courtyard, and was protected from the noise of the street. when she heard sounds in the house, she thought that old ursel was ill and they were summoning the doctor. for a moment she felt an impulse to rise and go downstairs, but she did not like to leave her warm bed, and wolf would manage without her. she had always lacked patience to wait upon the sick, and ursel had grown so harsh and disagreeable since she joined the protestants. finally, barbara had brought home exquisite recollections of her illustrious lover, which must not be clouded by the suffering of the old woman, whom, besides, she could rarely please. she did not learn what had happened until she went to mass, and then it weighed heavily upon her heart that she had not given wolf her assistance, especially as she suspected, with strange certainty, that she herself was connected with this terrible misfortune. now--ah, how gladly!--she would have helped ursel with the nursing, but she forbade her to enter the sick-room. the most absolute quiet must reign there. no one was permitted to cross the threshold except herself and an elderly nun, whom the clares had sent for the sake of the wounded man's dead mother. a dominican also soon came, whom the old woman could not shut out because he was despatched by the queen of hungary, and the violinist massi, whom she gladly welcomed as a good friend of her wolf. he proved himself loyal, and devoted every leisure hour of the night to the sufferer. barbara knocked at the door very often, but ursel persisted in refusing admittance. she knew that the girl had rejected her darling's proposal, and it was a satisfaction to her when, toward noon, the former told her that she was about to leave the house to go to prebrunn. a cart would convey her luggage, but it would be only lightly laden. fran lerch went with the baggage. an hour later barbara herself moved into the little castle, which had been refurnished for her. mounted upon a spirited bay horse from her prebrunn stables, she rode beside the marquise de leria's huge litter to her new home. chapter xxiv. the very harsh execrations which the regent bestowed upon pleasant ratisbon when she learned what had befallen sir wolf hartschwert were better suited to the huntress than to the queen and sister of a mighty emperor. murderous knaves who, in the heart of the city, close to the imperial precincts, endangered the lives of peaceful people at night! it was unprecedented, and yet evidently only a result of the heretical abuses. she had sprung into the saddle--she always travelled on horseback-in the worst possible mood, but had urged all who were near the emperor charles's person, and also the almoner pedro de soto, to remember the wounded man and do everything possible to aid his recovery. she did not mention barbara, even by a single word, in her farewell to her royal brother. the latter had intended to accompany her a portion of the way, but a great quantity of work--not least in consequence of the loss of time occasioned by the new love life--had accumulated, and he therefore preferred to take leave of his sister in the courtyard of the golden cross. there, with his assistance, she mounted her horse. quijada, who usually rendered her this service, stood aloof, silent and pale. the regent had noticed it, and attributed his appearance to grief for her departure. no one at court held a higher place in her regard, and it pleased her that he, too, found it so hard to do without her. as her horse started, her last salute was to the monarch and to him. malfalconnet, whose eyes were everywhere, noticed it, and whispered to the marquise de leria, who was standing beside him: "either don luis would do well to intrust himself to our mathys's treatment, or this gentleman is an accomplished actor, or our most gracious lady has tampered with the fidelity of this most loyal husband, and the paternosters and pilgrimages of dona magdalena de ulloa have been vain." a few minutes after, the emperor charles was sitting at the writing table examining, with the bishop of arras, a mountain of reports and documents. two or three hours elapsed ere he received ambassadors and gave audiences, and during that time quijada was not needed by his royal master. he had previously had leisure only to provide for the wounded man, cleanse himself from blood, change his dress, bid queen mary farewell, and bandage the hurt afresh. he had done this with his own hands because he distrusted the reticence of his extremely skilful but heedless french valet. when he returned to his lodgings, master adrian followed him, and modestly, yet with all the warmth of affection which he felt for this true friend of his master, entreated him to permit him to speak freely. he had perceived, not only by the pallor of don luis's cheeks, but other signs, that he was suffering, and in the name of his wife, who, when her husband was summoned from her side, had urged him with the earnestness of anxious love to watch over him, begged him not to force himself beyond his strength to perform his service, if his sufferings corresponded with his appearance. don luis looked sharply into the faithful face, and what he found there induced him to admit that he was concealing a wound. adrian silently beckoned to him, and led the way into his own room, where he entreated don luis to show him the injury. when he saw it, his by no means mobile features blanched. he knew that quijada had accompanied barbara home that night. on this errand, he was sure of it, don luis must have received this serious wound at the same time as wolf, or even obtained it from the young knight himself. besides, he felt certain that the object of the emperor's love was connected with both disasters. yet not a word which could have resembled a question escaped his beardless lips while he examined, sewed, and bandaged the deep sword thrust with the skill and care of a surgeon. when he had finished his task, he thanked don luis for the confidence reposed in him. quijada pressed his hand gratefully, and begged him to do his best that no one, not even the emperor, should learn anything about this vexatious mischance. then, not from curiosity, for grave motives, he desired to know what relations existed between sir wolf hartschwert and barbara. the answer was somewhat delayed, for wolf had won the affection of the influential valet, and what master adrian had learned concerning the young knight's personal affairs from himself, his own wife in brussels, and the violinist massi, he would have confided to no one on earth except quijada, and perhaps not even to him had he not accompanied his inquiry with the assurance that what he intrusted to him would remain buried in his soul, and be used only for wolf's advantage. this promise loosed the cautious valet's tongue. he knew his man, and, when don luis also desired to learn whether the knight had already discovered that barbara was now the emperor's love, he thought he could answer in the negative. what he had heard of wolf's relation to barbara was only that the two had spent their early youth in the same house, that the knight loved the singer, but that she had rejected his suit. this avowal appeared to satisfy quijada, and it really did calm him. he now believed that wolf had misjudged him, and, supposing that he was coming from a meeting with the girl he loved, had drawn his sword against him. the manner in which he had attempted to rid himself of the rival seemed criminal enough, yet the nocturnal attack had scarcely concerned him personally, and he would not condemn the man who was usually so calm and sensible without having heard him. if wolf lived--and he desired it from his heart--this act, which he appeared to have committed in a fit of blind jealousy, should do him no injury. with a warm clasp of the hand, which united these two men more firmly than a long period of mutual intercourse, each went his way in quiet content. in the afternoon master adrian was sent out to prebrunn to announce to barbara a visit from the emperor after vespers. wolf, it is true, had told her many things about adrian dubois, and informed her how much pleasure he had had at brussels in visiting him and his sensible, cheerful wife, how implicitly the emperor trusted him, how faithfully he served him, how highly the ambassadors and the most aristocratic gentlemen esteemed him, and how great an advantage it had been to him, wolf, to possess his friendship; yet she thought proper to treat the valet with the haughty reserve which beseemed her as the emperor's favourite, and which yesterday evening had won the approval of the wittenberg theologian and of wolf. but master adrian appeared to take no notice of her manner, and performed his errand with businesslike composure. the emperor charles wished to know how she liked her new home. in reality she had found its beauty and comfort far beyond her expectations, had clapped her hands in surprise when she was conducted by the marquise through the new abode, and, under the guidance of the house steward steen, had been shown the kitchen, the stable, the four horses, and the garden. in her reception-room she found a lute and a harp of exquisitely beautiful workmanship, and a small milan cabinet made of ebony inlaid with ivory, in which was a heavy casket bound with silver. the key had been given to her the evening before by the regent herself, and when barbara opened it she discovered so many shining zecchins and ducats that a long time was occupied when she obeyed fran lerch's request to count them. the dressmaker from the grieb was already in her service, and had been a witness of her sincere delight and grateful pleasure. the second hour after their arrival she had helped her to employ frau lamperi, the maid whom the steward called the 'garde-robiere', and had already been to the city herself to buy, for her fortunate "darling" costly but, on account of the approach of summer, light materials. but she had seen master adrian corning, and, while he was passing through the garden, gave her the advice by no means to praise what she found here, but to appear as though she had been accustomed to such surroundings, and found this and that not quite worthy of her, but needing addition and improvement. at first barbara had succeeded in assuming the airs of the spoiled lady, but when adrian, with prosaic definiteness, asked for details, and she saw herself compelled to begin the game of dissimulation anew, it grew repugnant to her. to her artist nature every restraint soon became irksome, especially so unpleasant a one, which was opposed to her character, and ere she was her self aware of it she was again the vivacious wawerl, and frankly and freely expressed her pleasure in the beautiful new things she owed to her lover's kindness. a smile, so faint and brief that barbara did not perceive it, was hovering meanwhile around the valet's thin lips. the causes of this strange change of opinion and mood would have been sufficiently intelligible to him, even had he not perceived one of the reproving glances which frau lerch cast at barbara. she, too, had met one; but since she had once obeyed the impulse of her own nature, and felt content in doing so, she troubled herself no further about the monitor, and there was nothing in her new home which was not far more beautiful than what she had had in the precentor's modest house. the marquise displeased her most deeply, and this also she plainly told master adrian, and begged him to inform his majesty, with her dutiful greeting. his best gift was the precaution which he had taken that she should live apart from the old monkey. the valet received this commission, like all the former ones, with a slight, grave bow. on the whole, the experienced man was not ill-pleased with her, only it seemed to him strange that barbara did not mention the serious misfortune which had befallen wolf; yet she knew from his own lips that he loved the knight, and had learned that the latter's life was in serious danger. so he turned the conversation to his young friend, and in an instant a remarkable change took place in barbara. wolf's sorrowful fate and severe wound had weighed heavily upon her heart, but what the present brought was so novel and varied that it had crowded the painful event, near as was the past to which it belonged, into the shadow. she now desired to know who the murderer was who had attacked him, and cursed him with impetuous wrath. she thought it base and shameful that she had been denied access to his couch. poor, poor wolf! of all the men on earth, he was the best! meanwhile tears of genuine compassion flowed from her eyes and, with passionate vehemence, she declared that no power in the world should keep her from him. the mere sound of her voice, she knew, would be a cordial to him. so master adrian had not been mistaken. it was not only in song that she was capable of deep feeling, and the love which had seized the emperor charles so late, and yet so powerfully, had not gone far astray. he could scarcely have bestowed it upon a more beautiful woman. while pleasure in her new surroundings held sway over her, it was a real pleasure to see her face. but this creature, so richly gifted by the grace of god, was not suited for his modest young friend; this had become especially evident to him when an almost evil expression escaped her lips while she emptied the vial of her wrath upon wolf's murderer. if she deemed herself worthy of his master's love, she would not lack adrian's protection, which was the more effective the more persistently he refrained from asking of the emperor's favour even the slightest thing for himself, his wife, or others; that the time would come when she would need it, he was certain. no one knew the emperor so well as he, and he saw before him the cliffs which threatened to shatter the little ship of this love bond. already an imprudent violation of his extreme sense of the dignity of majesty, or of the confidence which he bestowed upon her, might become fatal to it. but, ardently as she might return his love, loyal and discreet as her conduct might be, there were other grave perils menacing the tie which united the emperor to barbara. charles was a man of action, of work, of fulfilment of duty. the moment that he perceived this love bond would impede his progress toward the lofty goals to which he aspired might easily mark the beginning of its end. now, in the midst of peace, such a result was scarcely to be feared; but if it came to fighting--and many a sign showed adrian that war was not far distant--a great change would take place in his master's character; the general would assert his rights. every other consideration would then be pitilessly thrust aside and, if charles still remained loyal to his affection, he would have fallen under the spell of one of those great passions which defy every assault of time and circumstance and find an end only in death. but the sharp-sighted man could not believe in such love on his master's part; in his nature the claims of reason threw those of the heart too far into the shade. if barbara was wise, her daily prayer should be for the maintenance of peace. to speak of these fears to the care-free girl would have been cruel, but he could probably give her a useful hint as opportunity offered. accustomed to perform his duty silently and, where speech was necessary, to study the utmost brevity, he had not learned the art of clothing his thoughts in pleasing forms. so, without circumlocution, he whispered to barbara the advice to send away frau lerch, who was not fit for her service, and as soon as possible to dismiss her entirely. the girl flew into a rage, and no whisper or urgency from another, but her own unbridled, independent nature, which during continual struggle had been steeled to assert herself, in spite of her poverty, among the rich companions of her own rank, as well as the newly awakened haughty consciousness that now, as the object of the mightiest monarch's love, she was exalted far above the companions of her own rank--led her to rebuff the warning of the well-meaning man with a sharpness that it ill beseemed one so much younger to use toward the emperor's gray-haired messenger. the valet shrugged his shoulders compassionately, and his regular features, whose expression varied only under the influence of strong, deep feelings, distinctly betrayed how sincerely he lamented her conduct. barbara noticed it, and instantly remembered what wolf had told her about him and his wife. she did not think of the influence which he exercised upon the emperor and the service which he might render her, but all the more vividly of his steadfast, devoted loyalty, and what he was and had accomplished for the man whom she loved, and, seized with sincere repentance, obeying a powerful impulse, she held out her hand with frank cordiality just as he was already bowing in farewell. adrian hesitated a moment. what did this mean? what accident was causing this new change of feeling in this april day of a girl? but when her sparkling blue eyes gazed at him so brightly and at the same time so plainly showed that she knew she had wronged him, he clasped the hand, and his face again wore a friendly expression. then barbara laughed in her bewitching, bell-like tones and, like a naughty child begging forgiveness for a trivial fault, asked him gaily not to take offence at her foolish arrogance. all the new things here had somewhat turned her silly brain. she knew how faithfully he served her charles, and for that reason she could not help liking him already. "if you have any cause to find fault with me," she concluded merrily, "out with it honestly." then addressing frau lerch, not as though she were speaking to a servant, but to an older friend, she asked her to leave her alone with herr adrian a short time; but she insisted positively on having her own way when the dressmaker remarked that she did not know why, after the greatest secret of all had been forced upon her, her discretion should be distrusted. as soon as she had retired the valet entreated barbara to beware of the advice of this woman, whose designs he saw perfectly. he, adrian, would wish her to have a companion of nobler nature and more delicate perceptions. but this warning seemed scarcely endurable to barbara. although she did not fly into a passion again, she asked in an irritated tone whether adrian had been granted the power of looking into another's soul. what she perceived with absolute certainty in frau lerch, who, as her dead mother's maid, had tended her as a child, was great faithfulness and secrecy and the most skilful hands. still, she promised to remember his well-meant counsel. adrian's warning always to consider what a position her lord occupied in the world, and to beware of crossing the border line which separated the monarch from his subjects, and even from those who were of the highest rank and dearest to him, was gratefully received, for she remembered the sharp rebuff which she had already experienced from her lover. it proved this excellent man's good will toward her, and her eyes fairly hung upon his lips as he informed her of some of his master's habits and peculiarities which she must regard. he warned her, with special earnestness, not to allow herself to be used by others to win favour or pardon for themselves or their kindred. she might perhaps find means for it later; now she would at once awaken in the extremely suspicious monarch doubt of her unselfishness. this was certainly good advice, and barbara confessed to the valet that the marquise had requested her at dinner that day to intercede for her unfortunate son, who, unluckily, had the misfortune to be misunderstood by the emperor charles. master adrian had expected something of the kind, for the lady in waiting had more than once urged him also to obtain his majesty's pardon for this ruined profligate, the shame of his noble race. he had persistently refused this request, and now enjoined it upon barbara to follow his example. before leaving her, he undertook to send her tidings of wolf's health now and then by the violinist massi, as he had not leisure to do it himself. at the same time he earnestly entreated her to repress her wish to see the sufferer again, and to bear in mind that she could receive no visitor, take no step in this house or in the city, which would not be known in the golden cross. barbara passionately demanded to know the spy who was watching her, and whether she must beware specially of the marquise, her french maid, the spanish priest who accompanied the old woman as her confessor, the garderobiere lamperi, who nevertheless had a good face, or who else among the servants. on this point, however, the valet would or could give no information. he knew only his master's nature. just as he was better acquainted with every province than the most experienced governor, with every band of soldiers than the sergeant, so nothing escaped him which concerned the private lives of those whom he valued. it need not grieve her that he watched her so carefully. her acts and conduct would not become a matter of indifference to him until he withdrew his confidence from her or his love grew cold. the deep impression which this information made upon the girl surprised adrian. while he was speaking her large eyes dilated more and more, and with hurried breathing she listened until he had finished. then pressing both hands upon her temples, she frantically exclaimed: "but that is horrible! it is base and unworthy! i will not be a prisoner--! will not, can not bear it! my whole heart is his, and never belonged to any other; but, rather than be unable to take a step that is not watched, like the sultan's female slaves, i will return to my father." here she hesitated; for the first time since she had entered prebrunn she remembered the old man who for her sake had been sent out into the world. but she soon went on more calmly: "i even permitted my father to be taken from me and sent away, perhaps to death. i gave everything to my sovereign, and if he wants my life also," she continued with fresh emotion, "he may have it; but the existence of a caged bird!-that will destroy me." here the sensible man interrupted her with the assurance that no one, last of all his majesty, thought of restricting her liberty more than was reasonable. she would be permitted to walk and to use her horses exactly as she pleased, only the object of her walks and rides must be one which she could mention to her royal lover without timidity. barbara, still with quickened breathing, then put the question how she could know this; and adrian, with a significant smile, replied that her heart would tell her, and if it should ever err--of this he was certain --the emperor charles. with these words he took leave of her to go, on behalf of his master, to the marquise, and barbara stood motionless for some time, gazing after him. in the golden cross quijada asked adrian what he thought of the singer, and it was some time ere he answered deliberately: "if only i knew exactly myself, your lordship--i am only a plain man, who wishes every one the best future. here i do so out of regard for his majesty, sir wolf hartschwert, and the inexperienced youth of this marvellously beautiful creature. but if you were to force me by the rack to form a definite opinion of her, i could not do it. the most favourable would not be too good, the reverse scarcely too severe. to reconcile such contrasts is beyond my power. she is certainly something unusual, that will fit no mould with which i am familiar." "if you had a son," asked don luis, "would you receive her gladly as a daughter-in-law?" a gesture of denial from the valet gave eloquent expression of his opinion; but quijada went on in a tone of anxious inquiry: "then what will she whom he loves be to the master whose happiness and peace are as dear to you as to me?" adrian started, and answered firmly: "for him, it seems to me, she will perhaps be the right one, for what power could she assert against his? and, besides, there is something in his majesty, as well as in this girl, which distinguishes them from other mortals. what do i mean by that? i see and hear it, but i can neither exactly understand nor name it." "that might be difficult even for a more adroit speaker," replied quijada; "but i think i know to what you allude. you and i, master adrian, have hearts in our breasts, like thousands of other people, and in our heads what is termed common sense. in his majesty something else is added. it seems as though he has at command a messenger from heaven who brings him thought and decisions." "that's it!" exclaimed adrian eagerly; "and whenever she raises her voice to sing, a second one stands by the side of this barbara blomberg." "only we do not yet know," observed quijada anxiously, "whether this second one with the singer is a messenger from heaven, like his majesty's, or an emissary of hell." the valet shrugged his shoulders irresolutely, and said quietly: "how could i venture to express an opinion about so noble an art? but when i was listening to the hymn to the virgin yesterday, it seemed as if an angel from heaven was singing from her lips." "let us hope that you may be right," replied the other. "but no matter! i think i know whence comes the invisible ally his majesty has at his disposal. it is the holy ghost that sends him--there is no doubt of it! his control is visible everywhere. with miraculous power he urges him on in advance of all others, and even of himself. this becomes most distinctly perceptible in war." "that is true," declared the valet, "and your lordship has surely hit the right clew. for"--he glanced cautiously around him and lowered his voice--"whenever i put on my master's armour i always feel how he is trembling--yes, trembling, your lordship. his face is livid, and the drops of perspiration on his brow are not due solely to the heat." "and then," cried quijada, his black eyes sparkling with a fiery light-"then in his agitation he scarcely knows what he is doing as i hold the stirrup for him. but when, once in his saddle, his divine companion descends to him, he dashes upon the foe like a whirlwind and, wherever he strikes, how the chips fly! the strongest succumb to his blows. 'victory! victory!' men shout exultingly wherever he goes. even in the last accursed algerian defeat his helper was at his side; for, adrian" --here he, too, lowered his voice--"without him and his wonderful power every living soul of us, down to the last boat and camp follower, would have been destroyed." etext editor's bookmarks: catholic, but his stomach desired to be protestant (erasmus) this ebook was produced by david widger <widger@cecomet.net> [note: there is a short list of bookmarks, or pointers, at the end of the file for those who may wish to sample the author's ideas before making an entire meal of them. d.w.] a thorny path by georg ebers volume 1. chapter i. the green screen slowly rose, covering the lower portion of the broad studio window where heron, the gem-cutter, was at work. it was melissa, the artist's daughter, who had pulled it up, with bended knees and outstretched arms, panting for breath. "that is enough!" cried her father's impatient voice. he glanced up at the flood of light which the blinding sun of alexandria was pouring into the room, as it did every autumn afternoon; but as soon as the shadow fell on his work-table the old man's busy fingers were at work again, and he heeded his daughter no more. an hour later melissa again, and without any bidding, pulled up the screen as before, but it was so much too heavy for her that the effort brought the blood into her calm, fair face, as the deep, rough "that is enough" was again heard from the work-table. then silence reigned once more. only the artist's low whistling as he worked, or the patter and pipe of the birds in their cages by the window, broke the stillness of the spacious room, till the voice and step of a man were presently heard in the anteroom. heron laid by his graver and melissa her gold embroidery, and the eyes of father and daughter met for the first time for some hours. the very birds seemed excited, and a starling, which had sat moping since the screen had shut the sun out, now cried out, "olympias!" melissa rose, and after a swift glance round the room she went to the door, come who might. ay, even if the brother she was expecting should bring a companion, or a patron of art who desired her father's work, the room need not fear a critical eye; and she was so well assured of the faultless neatness of her own person, that she only passed a hand over her brown hair, and with an involuntary movement pulled her simple white robe more tightly through her girdle. heron's studio was as clean and as simple as his daughter's attire, though it seemed larger than enough for the purpose it served, for only a very small part of it was occupied by the artist, who sat as if in exile behind the work-table on which his belongings were laid out: a set of small instruments in a case, a tray filled with shells and bits of onyx and other agates, a yellow ball of cyrenian modeling-wax, pumice-stone, bottles, boxes, and bowls. melissa had no sooner crossed the threshold, than the sculptor drew up his broad shoulders and brawny person, and raised his hand to fling away the slender stylus he had been using; however, he thought better of it, and laid it carefully aside with the other tools. but this act of selfcontrol must have cost the hot-headed, powerful man a great effort; for he shot a fierce look at the instrument which had had so narrow an escape, and gave it a push of vexation with the back of his hand. then he turned towards the door, his sunburnt face looking surly enough, in its frame of tangled gray hair and beard; and, as he waited for the visitor whom melissa was greeting outside, he tossed back his big head, and threw out his broad, deep chest, as though preparing to wrestle. melissa presently returned, and the youth whose hand she still held was, as might be seen in every feature, none other than the sculptor's son. both were dark-eyed, with noble and splendid heads, and in stature perfectly equal; but while the son's countenance beamed with hearty enjoyment, and seemed by its peculiar attractiveness to be made--and to be accustomed--to charm men and women alike, his father's face was expressive of disgust and misanthropy. it seemed, indeed, as though the newcomer had roused his ire, for heron answered his son's cheerful greeting with no word but a reproachful "at last!" and paid no heed to the hand the youth held out to him. alexander was no doubt inured to such a reception; he did not disturb himself about the old man's ill-humor, but slapped him on the shoulder with rough geniality, went up to the work-table with easy composure, took up the vice which held the nearly finished gem, and, after holding it to the light and examining it carefully, exclaimed: "well done, father! you have done nothing better than that for a long time." "poor stuff!" said his father. but his son laughed. "if you will have it so. but i will give one of my eyes to see the man in alexandria who can do the like!" at this the old man broke out, and shaking his fist he cried: "because the man who can find anything worth doing, takes good care not to waste his time here, making divine art a mere mockery by such trifling with toys! by sirius! i should like to fling all those pebbles into the fire, the onyx and shells and jasper and what not, and smash all those wretched tools with these fists, which were certainly made for other work than this." the youth laid an arm round his father's stalwart neck, and gayly interrupted his wrath. "oh yes, father heron, philip and i have felt often enough that they know how to hit hard." "not nearly often enough," growled the artist, and the young man went on: "that i grant, though every blow from you was equal to a dozen from the hand of any other father in alexandria. but that those mighty fists on human arms should have evoked the bewitching smile on the sweet lips of this psyche, if it is not a miracle of art, is--" "the degradation of art," the old man put in; but alexander hastily added: "the victory of the exquisite over the coarse." "a victory!" exclaimed heron, with a scornful flourish of his hand. "i know, boy, why you are trying to garland the oppressive yoke with flowers of flattery. so long as your surly old father sits over the vice, he only whistles a song and spares you his complaints. and then, there is the money his work brings in!" he laughed bitterly, and as melissa looked anxiously up at him, her brother exclaimed: "if i did not know you well, master, and if it would not be too great a pity, i would throw that lovely psyche to the ostrich in scopas's courtyard; for, by herakles! he would swallow your gem more easily than we can swallow such cruel taunts. we do indeed bless the muses that work brings you some surcease of gloomy thoughts. but for the rest--i hate to speak the word gold. we want it no more than you, who, when the coffer is full, bury it or hide it with the rest. apollodorus forced a whole talent of the yellow curse upon me for painting his men's room. the sailor's cap, into which i tossed it with the rest, will burst when seleukus pays me for the portrait of his daughter; and if a thief robs you, and me too, we need not fret over it. my brush and your stylus will earn us more in no time. and what are our needs? we do not bet on quail-fights; we do not run races; i always had a loathing for purchased love; we do not want to wear a heap of garments bought merely because they take our fancy--indeed, i am too hot as it is under this scorching sun. the house is your own. the rent paid by glaukias, for the workroom and garden you inherited from your father, pays for half at least of what we and the birds and the slaves eat. as for philip, he lives on air and philosophy; and, besides, he is fed out of the great breadbasket of the museum." at this point the starling interrupted the youth's vehement speech with the appropriate cry, "my strength! my strength!" the brother and sister looked at each other, and alexander went on with genuine enthusiasm: "but it is not in you to believe us capable of such meanness. dedicate your next finished work to isis or serapis. let your masterpiece grace the goddess's head-gear, or the god's robe. we shall be quite content, and perhaps the immortals may restore your joy in life as a reward." the bird repeated its lamentable cry, "my strength!" and the youth proceeded with increased vehemence: "it would really be better that you should throw your vice and your graver and your burnisher, and all that heap of dainty tools, into the sea, and carve an atlas such as we have heard you talk about ever since we could first speak greek. come, set to work on a colossus! you have but to speak the word, and the finest clay shall be ready on your modeling-table by to-morrow, either here or in glaukias's work-room, which is indeed your own. i know where the best is to be found, and can bring it to you in any quantity. scopas will lend me his wagon. i can see it now, and you valiantly struggling with it till your mighty arms ache. you will not whistle and hum over that, but sing out with all your might, as you used when my mother was alive, when you and your apprentices joined dionysus's drunken rout. then your brow will grow smooth again; and if the model is a success, and you want to buy marble, or pay the founder, then out with your gold, out of the coffer and its hiding-place! then you can make use of all your strength, and your dream of producing an atlas such as the world has not seen--your beautiful dream-will become a reality!" heron had listened eagerly to his son's rhapsody, but he now cast a timid glance at the table where the wax and tools lay, pushed the rough hair from his brow, and broke in with a bitter laugh: "my dream, do you say-my dream? as if i did not know too well that i am no longer the man to create an atlas! as if i did not feel, without your words, that my strength for it is a thing of the past!" "nay, father," exclaimed the painter. "is it right to cast away the sword before the battle? and even if you did not succeed--" "you would be all the better pleased," the sculptor put in. "what surer way could there be to teach the old simpleton, once for all, that the time when he could do great work is over and gone?" "that is unjust, father; that is unworthy of you," the young man interrupted in great excitement; but his father went on, raising his voice; "silence, boy! one thing at any rate is left to me, as you know-my keen eyes; and they did not fail me when you two looked at each other as the starling cried, 'my strength!' ay, the bird is in the right when he bewails what was once so great and is now a mere laughing-stock. but you--you ought to reverence the man to whom you owe your existence and all you know; you allow yourself to shrug your shoulders over your own father's humbler art, since your first pictures were fairly successful. --how puffed up he is, since, by my devoted care, he has been a painter! how he looks down on the poor wretch who, by the pinch of necessity, has come down from being a sculptor of the highest promise to being a mere gem-cutter! in the depths of your soul--and i know it--you regard my laborious art as half a handicraft. well, perhaps it deserves no better name; but that you--both of you--should make common cause with a bird, and mock the sacred fire which still burns in an old man, and moves him to serve true and noble art and to mold something great--an atlas such as the world has never seen on a heroic scale; that--" he covered his face with his hands and sobbed aloud. and the strong man's passionate grief cut his children to the heart, though, since their mother's death, their father's rage and discontent had many a time ere now broken down into childish lamentation. to-day no doubt the old man was in worse spirits than usual, for it was the day of the nekysia--the feast of the dead kept every autumn; and he had that morning visited his wife's grave, accompanied by his daughter, and had anointed the tombstone and decked it with flowers. the young people tried to comfort him; and when at last he was more composed and had dried his tears, he said, in so melancholy and subdued a tone that the angry blusterer was scarcely recognizable: "there--leave me alone; it will soon be over. i will finish this gem to-morrow, and then i must do the serapis i promised theophilus, the high-priest. nothing can come of the atlas. perhaps you meant it in all sincerity, alexander; but since your mother left me, children, since then--my arms are no weaker than they were; but in here--what it was that shriveled, broke, leaked away--i can not find words for it. if you care for me--and i know you do--you must not be vexed with me if my gall rises now and then; there is too much bitterness in my soul. i can not reach the goal i strive after and was meant to win; i have lost what i loved best, and where am i to find comfort or compensation?" his children tenderly assured him of their affection, and he allowed melissa to kiss him, and stroked alexander's hair. then he inquired for philip, his eldest son and his favorite; and on learning that he, the only person who, as he believed, could understand him, would not come to see him this day above all others, he again broke out in wrath, abusing the degeneracy of the age and the ingratitude of the young. "is it a visit which detains him again?" he inquired, and when alexander thought not, he exclaimed contemptuously: "then it is some war of words at the museum. and for such poor stuff as that a son can forget his duty to his father and mother!" "but you, too, used to enjoy these conflicts of intellect," his daughter humbly remarked; but the old man broke in: "only because they help a miserable world to forget the torments of existence, and the hideous certainty of having been born only to die some horrible death. but what can you know of this?" "by my mother's death-bed," replied the girl, "we, too, had a glimpse into the terrible mystery." and alexander gravely added, "and since we last met, father, i may certainly account myself as one of the initiated." "you have painted a dead body?" asked his father. "yes, father," replied the lad with a deep breath. "i warned you," said heron, in a tone of superior experience. and then, as melissa rearranged the folds of his blue robe, he said he should go for a walk. he sighed as he spoke, and his children knew whither he would go. it was to the grave to which melissa had accompanied him that morning; and he would visit it alone, to meditate undisturbed on the wife he had lost. chapter ii. the brother and sister were left together. melissa sighed deeply; but her brother went up to her, laid his arm round her shoulder, and said: "poor child! you have indeed a hard time of it. eighteen years old, and as pretty as you are, to be kept locked up as if in prison! no one would envy you, even if your fellow-captive and keeper were younger and less gloomy than your father is! but we know what it all means. his grief eats into his soul, and it does him as much good to storm and scold, as it does us to laugh." "if only the world could know how kind his heart really is!" said the girl. "he is not the same to his friends as to us," said alexander; but melissa shook her head, and said sadly: "he broke out yesterday against apion, the dealer, and it was dreadful. for the fiftieth time he had waited supper for you two in vain, and in the twilight, when he had done work, his grief overcame him, and to see him weep is quite heartbreaking! the syrian dealer came in and found him all tearful, and being so bold as to jest about it in his flippant way--" "the old man would give him his answer, i know!" cried her brother with a hearty laugh. "he will not again be in a hurry to stir up a wounded lion." "that is the very word," said melissa, and her large eyes sparkled. "at the fight in the circus, i could not help thinking of my father, when the huge king of the desert lay with a broken spear in his loins, whining loudly, and burying his maned head between his great paws. the gods are pitiless!" "indeed they are," replied the youth, with deep conviction; but his sister looked up at him in surprise. "do you say so, alexander? yes, indeed--you looked just now as i never saw you before. has misfortune overtaken you too?" "misfortune?" he repeated, and he gently stroked her hair. "no, not exactly; and you know my woes sit lightly enough on me. the immortals have indeed shown me very plainly that it is their will sometimes to spoil the feast of life with a right bitter draught. but, like the moon itself, all it shines on is doomed to change--happily! many things here below seem strangely ordered. like ears and eyes, hands and feet, many things are by nature double, and misfortunes, as they say, commonly come in couples yoked like oxen." "then you have had some twofold blow?" asked melissa, clasping her hands over her anxiously throbbing bosom. "i, child! no, indeed. nothing has befallen your father's younger son; and if i were a philosopher, like philip, i should be moved to wonder why a man can only be wet when the rain falls on him, and yet can be so wretched when disaster falls on another. but do not look at me with such terror in your great eyes. i swear to you that, as a man and an artist, i never felt better, and so i ought properly to be in my usual frame of mind. but the skeleton at life's festival has been shown to me. what sort of thing is that? it is an image--the image of a dead man which was carried round by the egyptians, and is to this day by the romans, to remind the feasters that they should fill every hour with enjoyment, since enjoyment is all too soon at an end. such an image, child--" "you are thinking of the dead girl--seleukus's daughter--whose portrait you are painting?" asked melissa. alexander nodded, sat down on the bench by his sister, and, taking up her needlework, exclaimed "give us some light, child. i want to see your pretty face. i want to be sure that diodorus did not perjure himself when, at the 'crane,' the other day, he swore that it had not its match in alexandria. besides, i hate the darkness." when melissa returned with the lighted lamp, she found her brother, who was not wont to keep still, sitting in the place where she had left him. but he sprang up as she entered, and prevented her further greeting by exclaiming: "patience! patience! you shall be told all. only i did not want to worry you on the day of the festival of the dead. and besides, to-morrow perhaps he will be in a better frame of mind, and next day--" melissa became urgent. "if philip is ill--" she put in. "not exactly ill," said he. "he has no fever, no ague-fit, no aches and pains. he is not in bed, and has no bitter draughts to swallow. yet is he not well, any more than i, though but just now, in the dining-hall at the elephant, i ate like a starving wolf, and could at this moment jump over this table. shall i prove it?" "no, no," said his sister, in growing distress. "but, if you love me, tell me at once and plainly--"at once and plainly," sighed the painter. "that, in any case, will not be easy. but i will do my best. you knew korinna?" "seleukus's daughter?" "she herself--the maiden from whose corpse i am painting her portrait." "no. but you wanted--" "i wanted to be brief, but i care even more to be understood; and if you have never seen with your own eyes, if you do not yourself know what a miracle of beauty the gods wrought when they molded that maiden, you are indeed justified in regarding me as a fool and philip as a madman--which, thank the gods, he certainly is not yet." "then he too has seen the dead maiden?" "no, no. and yet--perhaps. that at present remains a mystery. i hardly know what happened even to myself. i succeeded in controlling myself in my father's presence; but now, when it all rises up before me, before my very eyes, so distinct, so real, so tangible, now--by sirius! melissa, if you interrupt me again--" "begin again. i will be silent," she cried. "i can easily picture your korinna as a divinely beautiful creature." alexander raised his hands to heaven, exclaiming with passionate vehemence: "oh, how would i praise and glorify the gods, who formed that marvel of their art, and my mouth should be full of their grace and mercy, if they had but allowed the world to sun itself in the charm of that glorious creature, and to worship their everlasting beauty in her who was their image! but they have wantonly destroyed their own masterpiece, have crushed the scarce-opened bud, have darkened the star ere it has risen! if a man had done it, melissa, a man what would his doom have been! if he--" here the youth hid his face in his hands in passionate emotion; but, feeling his sister's arm round his shoulder, he recovered himself, and went on more calmly: "well, you heard that she was dead. she was of just your age; she is dead at eighteen, and her father commissioned me to paint her in death.--pour me out some water; then i will proceed as coldly as a man crying the description of a runaway slave." he drank a deep draught, and wandered restlessly up and down in front of his sister, while he told her all that had happened to him during the last few days. the day before yesterday, at noon, he had left the inn where he had been carousing with friends, gay and careless, and had obeyed the call of seleukus. just before raising the knocker he had been singing cheerfully to himself. never had he felt more fully content--the gayest of the gay. one of the first men in the town, and a connoisseur, had honored him with a fine commission, and the prospect of painting something dead had pleased him. his old master had often admired the exquisite delicacy of the flesh-tones of a recently deceased body. as his glance fell on the implements that his slave carried after him, he had drawn himself up with the proud feeling of having before him a noble task, to which he felt equal. then the porter, a gray-bearded gaul, had opened the door to him, and as he looked into his care-worn face and received from him a silent permission to step in, he had already become more serious. he had heard marvels of the magnificence of the house that he now entered; and the lofty vestibule into which he was admitted, the mosaic floor that he trod; the marble statues and high reliefs round the upper hart of the walls, were well worth careful observation; yet he, whose eyes usually carried away so vivid an impression of what he had once seen that he could draw it from memory, gave no attention to any particular thing among the various objects worthy of admiration. for already in the anteroom a peculiar sensation had come over him. the large halls, which were filled with odors of ambergris and incense, were as still as the grave. and it seemed to him that even the sun, which had been shining brilliantly a few minutes before in a cloudless sky, had disappeared behind clouds, for a strange twilight, unlike anything he had ever seen, surrounded him. then he perceived that it came in through the black velarium with which they had closed the open roof of the room through which he was passing. in the anteroom a young freedman had hurried silently past him--had vanished like a shadow through the dusky rooms. his duty must have been to announce the artist's arrival to the mother of the dead girl; for, before alexander had found time to feast his gaze on the luxurious mass of flowering plants that surrounded the fountain in the middle of the impluvium, a tall matron, in flowing mourning garments, came towards him --korinna's mother. without lifting the black veil which enveloped her from head to foot, she speechlessly signed him to follow her. till this moment not even a whisper had met his ear from any human lips in this house of death and mourning; and the stillness was so oppressive to the light-hearted young painter, that, merely to hear the sound of his own voice, he ex-plained to the lady who he was and wherefore he had come. but the only answer was a dumb assenting bow of the head. he had not far to go with his stately guide; their walk ended in a spacious room. it had been made a perfect flower-garden with hundreds of magnificent plants; piles of garlands strewed the floor, and in the midst stood the couch on which lay the dead girl. in this hall, too, reigned the same gloomy twilight which had startled him in the vestibule. the dim, shrouded form lying motionless on the couch before him, with a heavy wreath of lotus-flowers and white roses encircling it from head to foot, was the subject for his brush. he was to paint here, where he could scarcely distinguish one plant from another, or make out the form of the vases which stood round the bed of death. the white blossoms alone gleamed like pale lights in the gloom, and with a sister radiance something smooth and round which lay on the couch--the bare arm of the dead maiden. his heart began to throb; the artist's love of his art had awaked within him; he had collected his wits, and explained to the matron that to paint in the darkness was impossible. again she bowed in reply, but at a signal two waiting women, who were squatting on the floor behind the couch, started up in the twilight, as if they had sprung from the earth, and approached their mistress. a fresh shock chilled the painter's blood, for at the same moment the lady's voice was suddenly audible close to his ear, almost as deep as a man's but not unmelodious, ordering the girls to draw back the curtain as far as the painter should desire. now, he felt, the spell was broken; curiosity and eagerness took the place of reverence for death. he quietly gave his orders for the necessary arrangements, lent the women the help of his stronger arm, took out his painting implements, and then requested the matron to unveil the dead girl, that he might see from which side it would be best to take the portrait. but then again he was near losing his composure, for the lady raised her veil, and measured him with a glance as though he had asked something strange and audacious indeed. never had he met so piercing a glance from any woman's eyes; and yet they were red with weeping and full of tears. bitter grief spoke in every line of her still youthful features, and their stern, majestic beauty was in keeping with the deep tones of her speech. oh that he had been so happy as to see this woman in the bloom of youthful loveliness! she did not heed his admiring surprise; before acceding to his demand, her regal form trembled from head to foot, and she sighed as she lifted the shroud from her daughter's face. then, with a groan, she dropped on her knees by the couch and laid her cheek against that of the dead maiden. at last she rose, and murmured to the painter that if he were successful in his task her gratitude would be beyond expression. "what more she said," alexander went on, "i could but half understand, for she wept all the time, and i could not collect my thoughts. it was not till afterward that i learned from her waiting-woman--a christian-that she meant to tell me that the relations and wailing women were to come to-morrow morning. i could paint on till nightfall, but no longer. i had been chosen for the task because seleukus had heard from my old teacher, bion, that i should get a faithful likeness of the original more quickly than any one else. she may have said more, but i heard nothing; i only saw. for when the veil no longer hid that face from my gaze, i felt as though the gods had revealed a mystery to me which till now only the immortals had been permitted to know. never was my soul so steeped in devotion, never had my heart beat in such solemn uplifting as at that moment. what i was gazing at and had to represent was a thing neither human nor divine; it was beauty itself--that beauty of which i have often dreamed in blissful rapture. "and yet--do not misapprehend me--i never thought of bewailing the maiden, or grieving over her early death. she was but sleeping--i could fancy: i watched one i loved in her slumbers. my heart beat high! ay, child, and the work i did was pure joy, such joy as only the gods on olympus know at their golden board. every feature, every line was of such perfection as only the artist's soul can conceive of, nay, even dream of. the ecstasy remained, but my unrest gave way to an indescribable and wordless bliss. i drew with the red chalk, and mixed the colors with the grinder, and all the while i could not feel the painful sense of painting a corpse. if she were slumbering, she had fallen asleep with bright images in her memory. i even fancied again and again that her lips moved her exquisitely chiseled mouth, and that a faint breath played with her abundant, waving, shining brown hair, as it does with yours. "the muse sped my hand and the portrait--bion and the rest will praise it, i think, though it is no more like the unapproachable original than that lamp is like the evening star yonder." "and shall we be allowed to see it?" asked melissa, who had been listening breathlessly to her brother's narrative. the words seemed to have snatched the artist from a dream. he had to pause and consider where he was and to whom he was speaking. he hastily pushed the curling hair off his damp brow, and said: "i do not understand. what is it you ask?" "i only asked whether we should be allowed to see the portrait," she answered timidly. "i was wrong to interrupt you. but how hot your head is! drink again before you go on. had you really finished by sundown?" alexander shook his head, drank, and then went on more calmly: "no, no! it is a pity you spoke. in fancy i was painting her still. there is the moon rising already. i must make haste. i have told you all this for philip's sake, not for my own." "i will not interrupt you again, i assure you," said melissa. "well, well," said her brother. "there is not much that is pleasant left to tell. where was i?" "painting, so long as it was light--" "to be sure--i remember. it began to grow dark. then lamps were brought in, large ones, and as many as i wished for. just before sunset seleukus, korinna's father, came in to look upon his daughter once more. he bore his grief with dignified composure; yet by his child's bier he found it hard to be calm. but you can imagine all that. he invited me to eat, and the food they brought might have tempted a full man to excess, but i could only swallow a few mouthfuls. berenike--the mother--did not even moisten her lips, but seleukus did duty for us both, and this i could see displeased his wife. during supper the merchant made many inquiries about me and my father; for he had heard philip's praises from his brother theophilus, the high-priest. i learned from him that korinna had caught her sickness from a slave girl she had nursed, and had died of the fever in three days. but while i sat listening to him, as he talked and ate, i could not keep my eyes off his wife who reclined opposite to me silent and motionless, for the gods had created korinna in her very image. the lady berenike's eyes indeed sparkle with a lurid, i might almost say an alarming, fire, but they are shaped like korinna's. i said so, and asked whether they were of the same color; i wanted to know for my portrait. on this seleukus referred me to a picture painted by old sosibius, who has lately gone to rome to work in caesar's new baths. he last year painted the wall of a room in the mer chant's country house at kanopus. in the center of the picture stands galatea, and i know it now to be a good and true likeness. "the picture i finished that evening is to be placed at the head of the young girl's sarcophagus; but i am to keep it two days longer, to reproduce a second likeness more at my leisure, with the help of the galatea, which is to remain in seleukus's town house. "then he left me alone with his wife. "what a delightful commission! i set to work with renewed pleasure, and more composure than at first. i had no need to hurry, for the first picture is to be hidden in the tomb, and i could give all my care to the second. besides, korinna's features were indelibly impressed on my eye. "i generally can not paint at all by lamp-light; but this time i found no difficulty, and i soon recovered that blissful, solemn mood which i had felt in the presence of the dead. only now and then it was clouded by a sigh, or a faint moan from berenike: 'gone, gone! there is no comfort-none, none!' "and what could i answer? when did death ever give back what he has snatched away? "' i can not even picture her as she was,' she murmured sadly to herself --but this i might remedy by the help of my art, so i painted on with increasing zeal; and at last her lamentations ceased to trouble me, for she fell asleep, and her handsome head sank on her breast. the watchers, too, had dropped asleep, and only their deep breathing broke the stillness. "suddenly it flashed upon me that i was alone with korinna, and the feeling grew stronger and stronger; i fancied her lovely lips had moved, that a smile gently parted them, inviting me to kiss them. as often as i looked at them--and they bewitched me--i saw and felt the same, and at last every impulse within me drove me toward her, and i could no longer resist: my lips pressed hers in a kiss!" melissa softly sighed, but the artist did not hear; he went on: "and in that kiss i became hers; she took the heart and soul of me. i can no longer escape from her; awake or asleep, her image is before my eyes, and my spirit is in her power." again he drank, emptying the cup at one deep gulp. then he went on: "so be it! who sees a god, they say, must die. and it is well, for he has known something more glorious than other men. our brother philip, too, lives with his heart in bonds to that one alone, unless a demon has cheated his senses. i am troubled about him, and you must help me." he sprang up, pacing the room again with long strides, but his sister clung to his arm and besought him to shake off the bewitching vision. how earnest was her prayer, what eager tenderness rang in her every word, as she entreated him to tell her when and where her elder brother, too, had met the daughter of seleukus! the artist's soft heart was easily moved. stroking the hair of the loving creature at his side--so helpful as a rule, but now bewildered --he tried to calm her by affecting a lighter mood than he really felt, assuring her that he should soon recover his usual good spirits. she knew full well, he said, that his living loves changed in frequent succession, and it would be strange indeed if a dead one could bind him any longer. and his adventure, so far as it concerned the house of seleukus, ended with that kiss; for the lady berenike had presently waked, and urged him to finish the portrait at his own house. next morning he had completed it with the help of the galatea in the villa at kanopus, and he had heard a great deal about the dead maiden. a young woman who was left in charge of the villa had supplied him with whatever he needed. her pretty face was swollen with weeping, and it was in a voice choked with tears that she had told him that her husband, who was a centurion in caesar's pretorian guard, would arrive to-morrow or next day at alexandria, with his imperial master. she had not seen him for a long time, and had an infant to show him which he had not yet seen; and yet she could not be glad, for her young mistress's death had extinguished all her joy. "the affection which breathed in every word of the centurion's wife," alexander said, "helped me in my work. i could be satisfied with the result. "the picture is so successful that i finished that for seleukus in all confidence, and for the sarcophagus i will copy it as well or as ill as time will allow. it will hardly be seen in the half-dark tomb, and how few will ever go to see it! none but a seleukus can afford to employ so costly a brush as your brother's is--thank the muses! but the second portrait is quite another thing, for that may chance to be hung next a picture by apelles; and it must restore to the parents so much of their lost child as it lies in my power to give them. so, on my way, i made up my mind to begin the copy at once by lamp-light, for it must be ready by to-morrow night at latest. "i hurried to my work-room, and my slave placed the picture on an easel, while i welcomed my brother philip who had come to see me, and who had lighted a lamp, and of course had brought a book. he was so absorbed in it that he did not observe that i had come in till i addressed him. then i told him whence i came and what had happened, and he thought it all very strange and interesting. "he was as usual rather hurried and hesitating, not quite clear, but understanding it all. then he began telling me something about a philosopher who has just come to the front, a porter by trade, from whom he had heard sundry wonders, and it was not till syrus brought me in a supper of oysters--for i could still eat nothing more solid--that he asked to see the portrait. "i pointed to the easel, and watched him; for the harder he is to please, the more i value his opinion. this time i felt confident of praise, or even of some admiration, if only for the beauty of the model. "he threw off the veil from the picture with a hasty movement, but, instead of gazing at it calmly, as he is wont, and snapping out his sharp criticisms, he staggered backward, as though the noonday sun had dazzled his sight. then, bending forward, he stared at the painting, panting as he might after racing for a wager. he stood in perfect silence, for i know not how long, as though it were medusa he was gazing on, and when at last he clasped his hand to his brow, i called him by name. he made no reply, but an impatient 'leave me alone!' and then he still gazed at the face as though to devour it with his eyes, and without a sound. "i did not disturb him; for, thought i, he too is bewitched by the exquisite beauty of those virgin features. so we were both silent, till he asked, in a choked voice: 'and did you paint that? is that, do you say, the daughter that seleukus has just lost?' "of course i said 'yes'; but then he turned on me in a rage, and reproached me bitterly for deceiving and cheating him, and jesting with things that to him were sacred, though i might think them a subject for sport. "i assured him that my answer was as earnest as it was accurate, and that every word of my story was true. "this only made him more furious. i, too, began to get angry, and as he, evidently deeply agitated, still persisted in saying that my picture could not have been painted from the dead korinna, i swore to him solemnly, with the most sacred oath i could think of, that it was really so. "on this he declared to me in words so tender and touching as i never before heard from his lips, that if i were deceiving him his peace of mind would be forever destroyed-nay, that he feared for his reason; and when i had repeatedly assured him, by the memory of our departed mother, that i had never dreamed of playing a trick upon him, he shook his head, grasped his brow, and turned to leave the room without another word." "and you let him go?" cried melissa, in anxious alarm. "certainly not," replied the painter. "on the contrary, i stood in his way, and asked him whether he had known korinna, and what all this might mean. but he would make no reply, and tried to pass me and get away. it must have been a strange scene, for we two big men struggled as if we were at a wrestling-match. i got him down with one hand behind his knees, and so he had to remain; and when i had promised to let him go, he confessed that he had seen korinna at the house of her uncle, the highpriest, without knowing who she was or even speaking a word to her. and he, who usually flees from every creature wearing a woman's robe, had never forgotten that maiden and her noble beauty; and, though he did not say so, it was obvious, from every word, that he was madly in love. her eyes had followed him wherever he went, and this he deemed a great misfortune, for it had disturbed his power of thought. a month since he went across lake mareotis to polybius to visit andreas, and while, on his return, he was standing on the shore, he saw her again, with an old man in white robes. but the last time he saw her was on the morning of the very day when all this happened; and if he is to be believed, he not only saw her but touched her hand. that, again, was by the lake; she was just stepping out of the ferry-boat. the obolus she had ready to pay the oarsman dropped on the ground, and philip picked it up and returned it to her. then his fingers touched hers. he could feel it still, he declared, and yet she had then ceased to walk among the living. "then it was my turn to doubt his word; but he maintained that his story was true in every detail; he would hear nothing said about some one resembling her, or anything of the kind, and spoke of daimons showing him false visions, to cheat him and hinder him from working out his investigations of the real nature of things to a successful issue. but this is in direct antagonism to his views of daimons; and when at last he rushed out of the house, he looked like one possessed of evil spirits. "i hurried after him, but he disappeared down a dark alley. then i had enough to do to finish my copy, and yesterday i carried it home to seleukus. "then i had time to look for philip, but i could hear nothing of him, either in his own lodgings or at the museum. to-day i have been hunting for him since early in the morning. i even forgot to lay any flowers on my mother's grave, as usual on the day of the nekysia, because i was thinking only of him. but he no doubt is gone to the city of the dead; for, on my way hither, as i was ordering a garland in the flower-market, pretty little doxion showed me two beauties which she had woven for him, and which he is presently to fetch. so he must now be in the nekropolis; and i know for whom he intends the second; for the door-keeper at seleukus's house told me that a man, who said he was my brother, had twice called, and had eagerly inquired whether my picture had yet been attached to korinna's sarcophagus. the old man told him it had not, because, of course, the embalming could not be complete as yet. but the picture was to be displayed to-day, as being the feast of the dead, in the hall of the embalmers. that was the plan, i know. so, now, child, set your wise little woman's head to work, and devise something by which he may be brought to his senses, and released from these crazy imaginings." "the first thing to be done," melissa exclaimed, "is to follow him and talk to him.-wait a moment; i must speak a word to the slaves. my father's night-draught can be mixed in a minute. he might perhaps return home before us, and i must leave his couch--i will be with you in a minute." chapter iii. the brother and sister had walked some distance. the roads were full of people, and the nearer they came to the nekropolis the denser was the throng. as they skirted the town walls they took counsel together. being perfectly agreed that the girl who had touched philip's hand could certainly be no daimon who had assumed korinna's form, they were inclined to accept the view that a strong resemblance had deceived their brother. they finally decided that alexander should try to discover the maiden who so strangely resembled the dead; and the artist was ready for the task, for he could only work when his heart was light, and had never felt such a weight on it before. the hope of meeting with a living creature who resembled that fair dead maiden, combined with his wish to rescue his brother from the disorder of mind which threatened him; and melissa perceived with glad surprise how quickly this new object in life restored the youth's happy temper. it was she who spoke most, and alexander, whom nothing escaped that had any form of beauty, feasted his ear on the pearly ring of her voice. "and her face is to match," thought he as they went on in the darkness; "and may the charites who have endowed her with every charm, forgive my father for burying her as he does his gold." it was not in his nature to keep anything that stirred him deeply to himself, when he was in the society of another, so he murmured to his sister: "it is just as well that the macedonian youths of this city should not be able to see what a jewel our old man's house contains. --look how brightly selene shines on us, and how gloriously the stars burn! nowhere do the heavens blaze more brilliantly than here. as soon as we come out of the shadow that the great walls cast on the road we shall be in broad light. there is the serapeum rising out of the darkness. they are rehearsing the great illumination which is to dazzle the eyes of caesar when he comes. but they must show too, that to-night, at least, the gods of the nether world and death are all awake. you can never have been in the nekropolis at so late an hour before." "how should i?" replied the girl. and he expressed the pleasure that it gave him to be able to show her for the first time the wonderful night scene of such a festival. and when he heard the deep-drawn "ah!" with which she hailed the sight of the greatest temple of all, blazing in the midst of the darkness with tar-pans, torches, and lamps innumerable, he replied with as much pride and satisfaction as though she owed the display to him, "ay, what do you think of that?" above the huge stone edifice which was thus lighted up, the dome of the serapeum rose high into the air, its summit appearing to touch the sky. never had the gigantic structure seemed so beautiful to the girl, who had only seen it by daylight; for under the illumination, arranged by a master-hand, every line stood out more clearly than in the sunlight; and in the presence of this wonderful sight melissa's impressionable young soul forgot the trouble that had weighed on it, and her heart beat higher. her lonely life with her father had hitherto fully satisfied her, and she had, never yet dreamed of anything better in the future than a quiet and modest existence, caring for him and her brothers; but now she thankfully experienced the pleasure of seeing for once something really grand and fine, and rejoiced at having escaped for a while from the monotony of each day and hour. once, too, she had been with her brothers and diodoros, alexander's greatest friend, to see a wild-beast fight, followed by a combat of gladiators; but she had come home frightened and sorrowful, for what she had seen had horrified more than it had interested her. some of the killed and tortured beings haunted her mind; and, besides, sitting in the lowest and best seats belonging to diodoros's wealthy father, she had been stared at so boldly and defiantly whenever she raised her eyes, by a young gallant opposite, that she had felt vexed and insulted; nay, had wished above all things to get home as soon as possible. and yet she had loved diodoros from her childhood, and she would have enjoyed sitting quietly by his side more than looking on at the show. but on this occasion her curiosity was gratified, and the hope of being able to help one who was dear to her filled her with quiet gladness. it was a comfort to her, too, to find herself once more by her mother's grave with alexander, who was her especial friend. she could never come here often enough, and the blessing which emanated from it--of that she was convinced--must surely fall on her brother also, and avert from him all that grieved his heart. as they walked on between the serapeum on one hand, towering high above all else, and the stadium on the other, the throng was dense; on the bridge over the canal it was difficult to make any progress. now, as the full moon rose, the sacrifices and games in honor of the gods of the under world were beginning, and now the workshops and factories had emptied themselves into the streets already astir for the festival of the dead, so every moment the road became more crowded. such a tumult was generally odious to her retiring nature; but to-night she felt herself merely one drop in the great, flowing river, of which every other drop felt the same impulse which was carrying her forward to her destination. the desire to show the dead that they were not forgotten, that their favor was courted and hoped for, animated men and women, old and young alike. there were few indeed who had not a wreath or a posy in their hands, or carried behind them by a slave. in front of the brother and sister was a large family of children. a black nurse carried the youngest on her shoulder, and an ass bore a basket in which were flowers for the tomb, with a wineflask and eatables. a memorial banquet was to be held at the grave of their ancestors; and the little one, whose golden head rose above the black, woolly poll of the negress, nodded gayly in response to melissa's smiles. the children were enchanted at the prospect of a meal at such an unusual hour, and their parents rejoiced in them and in the solemn pleasure they anticipated. many a one in this night of remembrance only cared to recall the happy hours spent in the society of the beloved dead; others hoped to leave their grief and pain behind them, and find fresh courage and contentment in the city of the dead; for tonight the gates of the nether world stood open, and now, if ever, the gods that reigned there would accept the offerings and hear the prayers of the devout. those lean egyptians, who pushed past in silence and haranging their heads, were no doubt bent on carrying offerings to osiris and anubis--for the festival of the gods of death and resurrection coincided with the nekysia--and on winning their favors by magical formulas and spells. everything was plainly visible, for the desert tract of the nekropolis, where at this hour utter darkness and silence usually reigned, was brightly lighted up. still, the blaze failed to banish entirely the thrill of fear which pervaded the spot at night; for the unwonted glare dazzled and bewildered the bats and night-birds, and they fluttered about over the heads of the intruders in dark, ghostly flight. many a one believed them to be the unresting souls of condemned sinners, and looked up at them with awe. melissa drew her veil closer and clung more tightly to her brother, for a sound of singing and wild cries, which she had heard behind her for some time, was now coming closer. they were no longer treading the paved street, but the hard-beaten soil of the desert. the crush was over, for here the crowd could spread abroad; but the uproarious troop, which she did not even dare to look at, came rushing past quite close to them. they were greeks, of all ages and of both sexes. the men flourished torches, and were shouting a song with unbridled vehemence; the women, wearing garlands, kept up with them. what they carried in the baskets on their heads could not be seen, nor did alexander know; for so many religious brotherhoods and mystic societies existed here that it was impossible to guess to which this noisy troop might belong. the pair had presently overtaken a little train of white-robed men moving forward at a solemn pace, whom the painter recognized as the philosophical and religious fraternity of the neo-pythagoreans, when a small knot of men and women in the greatest excitement came rushing past as if they were mad. the men wore the loose red caps of their phrygian land; the women carried bowls full of fruits. some beat small drums, others clanged cymbals, and each hauled his neighbor along with deafening cries, faster and faster, till the dust hid them from sight and a new din drowned the last, for the votaries of dionysus were already close upon them, and vied with the phrygians in uproariousness. but this wild troop remained behind; for one of the light-colored oxen, covered with decorations, which was being driven in the procession by a party of men and boys, to be presently sacrificed, had broken away, maddened by the lights and the shouting, and had to be caught and led again. at last they reached the graveyard. but even now they could not make their way to the long row of houses where the embalmers dwelt, for an impenetrable mass of human beings stood pent up in front of them, and melissa begged her brother to give her a moment's breathing space. all she had seen and heard on the way had excited her greatly; but she had scarcely for a moment forgotten what it was that had brought her out so late, who it was that she sought, or that it would need her utmost endeavor to free him from the delusion that had fooled him. in this dense throng and deafening tumult it was scarcely possible to recover that collected calm which she had found in the morning at her mother's tomb. in that, doubt had had no part, and the delightful feeling of freedom which had shone on her soul, now shrank deep into the shade before a growing curiosity and the longing for her usual repose. if her father were to find her here! when she saw a tall figure resembling his cross the torchlight, all clouded as it was by the dust, she drew her brother away behind the stall of a seller of drinks and other refreshments. the father, at any rate, must be spared the distress she felt about philip, who was his favorite. besides, she knew full well that, if he met her here, he would at once take her home. the question now was where philip might be found. they were standing close to the booths where itinerant dealers sold food and liquors of every description, flowers and wreaths, amulets and papyrus-leaves, with strange charms written on them to secure health for the living and salvation for the souls of the dead. an astrologer, who foretold the course of a man's life from the position of the planets, had erected a high platform with large tables displayed to view, and the instrument wherewith he aimed at the stars as it were with a bow; and his syrian slave, accompanying himself on a gayly-painted drum, proclaimed his master's powers. there were closed tents in which magical remedies were to be obtained, though their open sale was forbidden by the authorities, from love-philters to the wondrous fluid which, if rightly applied, would turn lead, copper, or silver to gold. here, old women invited the passer-by to try thracian and other spells; there, magicians stalked to and fro in painted caps and flowing, gaudy robes, most of them calling themselves priests of some god of the abyss. men of every race and tongue that dwelt in the north of africa, or on the shores of the mediterranean, were packed in a noisy throng. the greatest press was behind the houses of the men who buried the dead. here sacrifices were offered on the altars of serapis, isis, and anubis; here the sacred sistrum of isis might be kissed; here hundreds of priests performed solemn ceremonies, and half of those who came hither for the festival of the dead collected about them. the mysteries were also performed here, beginning before midnight; and a dramatic representation might be seen of the woes of isis, and the resurrection of her husband osiris. but neither here, nor at the stalls, nor among the graves, where many families were feasting by torchlight and pouring libations in the sand for the souls of the dead, did alexander expect to find his brother. nor would philip be attending the mysterious solemnities of any of the fraternities. he had witnessed them often enough with his friend diodoros, who never missed the procession to eleusis, because, as he declared, the mysteries of demeter alone could assure a man of the immortality of the soul. the wild ceremonies of the syrians, who maimed themselves in their mad ecstasy, repelled him as being coarse and barbarous. as she made her way through this medley of cults, this worship of gods so different that they were in some cases hostile, but more often merged into each other, melissa wondered to which she ought to turn in her present need. her mother had best loved to sacrifice to serapis and isis. but since, in her last sickness, melissa had offered everything she possessed to these divinities of healing, and all in vain, and since she had heard things in the serapeum itself which even now brought a blush to her cheek, she had turned away from the great god of the alexandrians. though he who had offended her by such base proposals was but a priest of the lower grade--and indeed, though she knew it not, was since dead--she feared meeting him again, and had avoided the sanctuary where he officiated. she was a thorough alexandrian, and had been accustomed from childhood to listen to the philosophical disputations of the men about her. so she perfectly understood her brother philip, the skeptic, when he said that he by no means denied the existence of the immortals, but that, on the other hand, he could not believe in it; that thought brought him no conviction; that man, in short, could be sure of nothing, and so could know nothing whatever of the divinity. he had even denied, on logical grounds, the goodness and omnipotence of the gods, the wisdom and fitness of the ordering of the universe, and melissa was proud of her brother's acumen; but what appeals to the brain only, and not to the heart, can not move a woman to anything great--least of all to a decisive change of life or feeling. so the girl had remained constant to her mother's faith in some mighty powers outside herself, which guided the life of nature and of human beings. only she did not feel that she had found the true god, either in serapis or isis, and so she had sought others. thus she had formulated a worship of ancestors, which, as she had learned from the slave-woman of her friend ino, was not unfamiliar to the egyptians. in alexandria there were altars to every god, and worship in every form. hers, however, was not among them, for the genius of her creed was the enfranchised soul of her mother, who had cast off the burden of this perishable body. nothing had ever come from her that was not good and lovely; and she knew that if her mother were permitted, even in some other than human form, she would never cease to watch over her with tender care. and those initiated into the eleusinian mysteries, as diodoros had told her, desired the immortality of the soul, to the end that they might continue to participate in the life of those whom they had left behind. what was it that brought such multitudes at this time out to the nekropolis, with their hands full of offerings, but the consciousness of their nearness to the dead, and of being cared for by them so long as they were not forgotten? and even if the glorified spirit of her mother were not permitted to hear her prayers, she need not therefore cease to turn to her; for it comforted her unspeakably to be with her in spirit, and to confide to her all that moved her soul. and so her mother's tomb had become her favorite place of rest. here, if anywhere, she now hoped once more to find comfort, some happy suggestion, and perhaps some definite assistance. she begged alexander to take her thither, and he consented, though he was of opinion that philip would be found in the mortuary chamber, in the presence of korinna's portrait. it was not easy to force their way through the thousands who had come out to the great show this night; however, most of the visitors were attracted by the mysteries far away from the macedonian burial-ground, and there was little to disturb the silence near the fine marble monument which alexander, to gratify his father, had erected with his first large earnings. it was hung with various garlands, and melissa, before she prayed and anointed the stone, examined them with eye and hand. those which she and her father had placed there she recognized at once. that humble garland of reeds with two lotus-flowers was the gift of their old slave argutis and his wife dido. this beautiful wreath of choice flowers had come from the garden of a neighbor who had loved her mother well; and that splendid basketful of lovely roses, which had not been there this morning, had been placed here by andreas, steward to the father of her young friend diodoros, although he was of the christian sect. and these were all. philip had not been here then, though it was now past midnight. for the first time in his life he had let this day pass by without a thought for their dead. how bitterly this grieved melissa, and even added to her anxiety for him! it was with a heavy heart that she and alexander anointed the tombstone; and while melissa uplifted her hands in prayer, the painter stood in silence, his eyes fixed on the ground. but no sooner had she let them fall, than he exclaimed: "he is here, i am sure, and in the house of the embalmers. that he ordered two wreaths is perfectly certain; and if he meant one for korinna's picture, he surely intended the other for our mother. if he has offered both to the young girl--" "no, no!" melissa put in. "he will bring his gift. let us wait here a little while, and do you, too, pray to the manes of our mother. do it to please me." but her brother interrupted her eagerly i think of her wherever i may be; for those we truly love always live for us. not a day passes, nor if i come in sober, not a night, when i do not see her dear face, either waking or dreaming. of all things sacred, the thought of her is the highest; and if she had been raised to divine honors like the dead caesars who have brought so many curses on the world--" "hush--don't speak so loud!" said melissa, seriously, for men were moving to and fro among the tombs, and roman guards kept watch over the populace. but the rash youth went on in the same tone: "i would worship her gladly, though i have forgotten how to pray. for who can tell here--unless he follows the herd and worships serapis--who can tell to which god of them all he shall turn when he happens to be at his wits' end? while my mother lived, i, like you, could gladly worship and sacrifice to the immortals; but philip has spoiled me for all that. as to the divine caesars, every one thinks as i do. my mother would sooner have entered a pesthouse than the banqueting-hall where they feast, on olympus. caracalla among the gods! why, father zeus cast his son hephaistos on earth from the height of olympus, and only broke his leg; but our caesar accomplished a more powerful throw, for he cast his brother through the earth into the nether world--an imperial thrust--and not merely lamed him but killed him." "well done!" said a deep voice, interrupting the young artist. "is that you, alexander? hear what new titles to fame heron's son can find for the imperial guest who is to arrive to-morrow." "pray hush!" melissa besought him, looking up at the bearded man who had laid his arm on alexander's shoulder. it was glaukias the sculptor, her father's tenant; for his work-room stood on the plot of ground by the garden of hermes, which the gem-cutter had inherited from his father-inlaw. the man's bold, manly features were flushed with wine and revelry; his twinkling eyes sparkled, and the ivy-leaves still clinging to his curly hair showed that he had been one in the dionysiac revellers; but the greek blood which ran in his veins preserved his grace even in drunkenness. he bowed gayly to the young girl, and exclaimed to his companions: "the youngest pearl in alexandria's crown of beauties!" while bion, alexander's now gray-haired master, clapped the youth on the arm, and added: "yes, indeed, see what the little thing has grown! do you remember, pretty one, how you once--how many years ago, i wonder?-spotted your little white garments all over with red dots! i can see you now, your tiny finger plunged into the pot of paint, and then carefully printing off the round pattern all over the white linen. why, the little painter has become a hebe, a charis, or, better still, a sweetly dreaming psyche." "ay, ay!" said glaukias again. "my worthy landlord has a charming model. he has not far to seek for a head for his best gems. his son, a helios, or the great macedonian whose name he bears; his daughter--you are right, bion--the maid beloved of eros. now, if you can make verses, my young friend of the muses, give us an epigram in a line or two which we may bear in mind as a compliment to our imperial visitor." "but not here--not in the burial-ground," melissa urged once more. among glaukias's companions was argeios, a vain and handsome young poet, with scented locks betraying him from afar, who was fain to display the promptness of his poetical powers; and, even while the elder artist was speaking, he had run alexander's satirical remarks into the mold of rhythm. not to save his life could he have suppressed the hastily conceived distich, or have let slip such a justifiable claim to applause. so, without heeding melissa's remonstrance, he flung his sky-blue mantle about him in fresh folds, and declaimed with comical emphasis: "down to earth did the god cast his son: but with mightier hand through it, to hades, caesar flung his brother the dwarf." the versifier was rewarded by a shout of laughter, and, spurred by the approval of his friends, he declared he had hit on the mode to which to sing his lines, as he did in a fine, full voice. but there was another poet, mentor, also of the party, and as he could not be happy under his rival's triumph, he exclaimed: "the great dyer-for you know he uses blood instead of the tyrian shell--has nothing of father zeus about him that i can see, but far more of the great alexander, whose mausoleum he is to visit to-morrow. and if you would like to know wherein the son of severus resembles the giant of macedon, you shall hear." he thrummed his thyrsus as though he struck the strings of a lyre, and, having ended the dumb prelude, he sang: "wherein hath the knave caracalla outdone alexander? he killed a brother, the hero a friend, in his rage." these lines, however, met with no applause; for they were not so lightly improvised as the former distich, and it was clumsy and tasteless, as well as dangerous thus to name, in connection with such a jest, the potentate at whom it was aimed. and the fears of the jovial party were only too well founded, for a tall, lean egyptian suddenly stood among the greeks as if he had sprung from the earth. they were sobered at once, and, like a swarm of pigeons on which a hawk swoops down, they dispersed in all directions. melissa beckoned to her brother to follow her; but the egyptian intruder snatched the mantle, quick as lightning, from alexander's shoulders, and ran off with it to the nearest pine-torch. the young man hurried after the thief, as he supposed him to be, but there the spy flung the cloak back to him, saying, in a tone of command, though not loud, for there were still many persons among the graves: "hands off, son of heron, unless you want me to call the watch! i have seen your face by the light, and that is enough for this time. now we know each other, and we shall meet again in another place!" with these words he vanished in the darkness, and melissa asked, in great alarm: "in the name of all the gods, who was that?" "some rascally carpenter, or scribe, probably, who is in the service of the night-watch as a spy. at least those sort of folks are often built askew, as that scoundrel was," replied alexander, lightly. but he knew the man only too well. it was zminis, the chief of the spies to the night patrol; a man who was particularly inimical to heron, and whose hatred included the son, by whom he had been befooled and misled in more than one wild ploy with his boon companions. this spy, whose cruelty and cunning were universally feared, might do him a serious mischief, and he therefore did not tell his sister, to whom the name of zminis was well known, who the listener was. he cut short all further questioning by desiring her to come at once to the mortuary hall. "and if we do not find him there," she said, "let us go home at once; i am so frightened." "yes, yes," said her brother, vaguely. "if only we could meet some one you could join." "no, we will keep together," replied melissa, decisively; and simply assenting, with a brief "all right," the painter drew her arm through his, and they made their way through the now thinning crowd. chapter iv. the houses of the embalmers, which earlier in the evening had shone brightly out of the darkness, now made a less splendid display. the dust kicked up by the crowd dimmed the few lamps and torches which had not by this time burned out or been extinguished, and an oppressive atmosphere of balsamic resin and spices met the brother and sister on the very threshold. the vast hall which they now entered was one of a long row of buildings of unburned bricks; but the greeks insisted on some ornamentation of the simplest structure, if it served a public purpose, and the embalming-houses had a colonnade along their front, and their walls were covered with stucco, painted in gaudy colors, here in the egyptian and there in the greek taste. there were scenes from the egyptian realm of the dead, and others from the hellenic myths; for the painters had been enjoined to satisfy the requirements and views of visitors of every race. the chief attraction, however, this night was within; for the men whose duties were exercised on the dead had displayed the finest and best of what they had to offer to their customers. the ancient greek practice of burning the dead had died out under the antonines. of old, the objects used to deck the pyre had also been on show here; now there was nothing to be seen but what related to interment or entombment. side by side with the marble sarcophagus, or those of coarser stone, were wooden coffins and mummy-cases, with a place at the head for the portrait of the deceased. vases and jars of every kind, amulets of various forms, spices and balsams in vials and boxes, little images in burned clay of the gods and of men, of which none but the egyptians knew the allegorical meaning, stood in long rows on low wooden shelves. on the higher shelves were mummy bands and shrouds, some coarse, others of the very finest texture, wigs for the bald heads of shaven corpses, or woolen fillets, and simply or elaborately embroidered ribbons for the greek dead. nothing was lacking of the various things in use for decking the corpse of an alexandrian, whatever his race or faith. some mummy-cases, too, were there, ready to be packed off to other towns. the most costly were covered with fine red linen, wound about with strings of beads and gold ornaments, and with the name of the dead painted on the upper side. in a long, narrow room apart hung the portraits, waiting to be attached to the upper end of the mummy-cases of those lately deceased, and still in the hands of embalmers. here, too, most of the lamps were out, and the upper end of the room was already dark. only in the middle, where the best pictures were on show, the lights had been renewed. the portraits were painted on thin panels of sycamore or of cypress, and in most of them the execution betrayed that their destiny was to be hidden in the gloom of a tomb. alexander's portrait of korinna was in the middle of the gallery, in a good light, and stood out from the paintings on each side of it as a genuine emerald amid green glass. it was constantly surrounded by a crowd of the curious and connoisseurs. they pointed out the beautiful work to each other; but, though most of them acknowledged the skill of the master who had painted it, many ascribed its superiority to the magical charm of the model. one could see in those wonderfully harmonious features that aristotle was right when he discerned beauty in order and proportion; while another declared that he found there the evidence of plato's doctrine of the identity of the good and the beautiful--for this face was so lovely because it was the mirror of a soul which had been disembodied in the plenitude of maiden purity and virtue, unjarred by any discord; and this gave rise to a vehement discussion as to the essential nature of beauty and of virtue. others longed to know more about the early-dead original of this enchanting portrait. korinna's wealthy father and his brothers were among the best-known men of the city. the elder, timotheus, was highpriest of the temple of serapis; and zeno, the younger, had set the whole world talking when he, who in his youth had been notoriously dissipated, had retired from any concern in the corn-trade carried on by his family, the greatest business of the kind in the world, perhaps, and--for this was an open secret--had been baptized. the body of the maiden, when embalmed and graced with her portrait, was to be transported to the family tomb in the district of arsinoe, where they had large possessions, and the gossip of the embalmer was eagerly swallowed as he expatiated on the splendor with which her liberal father proposed to escort her thither. alexander and melissa had entered the portrait-gallery before the beginning of this narrative, and listened to it, standing behind several rows of gazers who were between them and the portrait. as the speaker ceased, the little crowd broke up, and when melissa could at last see her brother's work at her ease, she stood speechless for some time; and then she turned to the artist, and exclaimed, from the depths of her heart, "beauty is perhaps the noblest thing in the world!" "it is," replied alexander, with perfect assurance. and he, bewitched once more by the spell which had held him by korinna's couch, gazed into the dark eyes in his own picture, whose living glance his had never met, and which he nevertheless had faithfully reproduced, giving them a look of the longing of a pure soul for all that is lovely and worthy. melissa, an artist's daughter, as she looked at this portrait, understood what it was that had so deeply stirred her brother while he painted it; but this was not the place to tell him so. she soon tore herself away, to look about for philip once more and then to be taken home. alexander, too, was seeking philip; but, sharp as the artist's eyes were, melissa's seemed to be keener, for, just as they were giving it up and turning to go, she pointed to a dark corner and said softly, "there he is." and there, in fact, her brother was, sitting with two men, one very tall and the other a little man, his brow resting on his hand in the deep shadow of a sarcophagus, between the wall and a mummy-case set on end, which till now had hidden him from alexander and melissa. who could the man be who had kept the young philosopher, somewhat inaccessible in his pride of learning, so long in talk in that half-dark corner? he was not one of the learned society at the museum; alexander knew them all. besides, he was not dressed like them, in the greek fashion, but in the flowing robe of a magian. and the stranger was a man of consequence, for he wore his splendid garment with a superior air, and as alexander approached him he remembered having somewhere seen this tall, bearded figure, with the powerful head garnished with flowing and carefully oiled black curls. such handsome and well-chiseled features, such fine eyes, and such a lordly, waving beard were not easily forgotten; his memory suddenly awoke and threw a light on the man as he sat in the gloom, and on the surroundings in which he had met him for the first time. it was at the feast of dionysus. among a drunken crowd, which was rushing wildly along the streets, and which alexander had joined, himself one of the wildest, this man had marched, sober and dignified as he was at this moment, in the same flowing raiment. this had provoked the feasters, who, being full of wine and of the god, would have nothing that could remind them of the serious side of life. such sullen reserve on a day of rejoicing was an insult to the jolly giver of the fruits of the earth, and to wine itself, the care-killer; and the mad troop of artists, disguised as silenus, satyrs, and fauns, had crowded round the stranger to compel him to join their rout and empty the wine-jar which a burly silenus was carrying before him on his ass. at first the man had paid no heed to the youths' light mockery; but as they grew bolder, he suddenly stood still, seized the tall faun, who was trying to force the wine-jar on him, by both arms, and, holding him firmly, fixed his grave, dark eyes on those of the youth. alexander had not forgotten the half-comical, half-threatening incident, but what he remembered most clearly was the strange scene that followed: for, after the magian had released his enemy, he bade him take the jar back to silenus, and proceed on his way, like the ass, on all-fours. and the tall faun, a headstrong, irascible lesbian, had actually obeyed the stately despot, and crept along on his hands and feet by the side of the donkey. no threats nor mockery of his companions could persuade him to rise. the high spirits of the boisterous crew were quite broken, and before they could turn on the magician he had vanished. alexander had afterward learned that he was serapion, the star-gazer and thaumaturgist, whom all the spirits of heaven and earth obeyed. when, at the time, the painter had told the story to philip, the philosopher had laughed at him, though alexander had reminded him that plato even had spoken of the daimons as being the guardian spirits of men; that in alexandria, great and small alike believed in them as a fact to be reckoned with; and that he--philip himself--had told him that they played a prominent part in the newest systems of philosophy. but to the skeptic nothing was sure: and if he would deny the existence of the divinity, he naturally must disbelieve that of any beings in a sphere between the supersensual immortals and sentient human creatures. that a man, the weaker nature, could have any power over daimons, who, as having a nearer affinity to the gods, must, if they existed, be the stronger, he could refute with convincing arguments; and when he saw others nibbling whitethorn-leaves, or daubing their thresholds with pitch to preserve themselves and the house from evil spirits, he shrugged his shoulders contemptuously, though his father often did such things. here was philip, deep in conversation with the man he had mocked at, and alexander was flattered by seeing that wise and famous serapion, in whose powers he himself believed, was talking almost humbly to his brother, as though to a superior. the magician was standing, while the philosopher, as though it were his right, remained seated. of what could they be conversing? alexander himself was anxious to be going, and only his desire to hear at any rate a few sentences of the talk of two such men detained him longer. as he expected, it bore on serapion's magical powers; but the bearded man spoke in a very low tone, and if the painter ventured any nearer he would be seen. he could only catch a few incoherent words, till philip exclaimed in a louder voice: "all that is well-reasoned. but you will be able to write an enduring inscription on the shifting wave sooner than you will shake my conviction that for our spirit, such as nature has made it, there is nothing infallible or certain." the painter was familiar with this postulate, and was curious to hear the magian's reply; but he could not follow his argument till he ended by saying, rather more emphatically: "you, even, do not deny the physical connection of things; but i know the power that causes it. it is the magical sympathy which displays itself more powerfully in the universe, and among human beings, than any other force." "that is just what remains to be proved," was the reply. but as the other declared in all confidence, "and i can prove it," and was proceeding to do so, serapion's companion, a stunted, sharp-featured little syrian, caught sight of alexander. the discourse was interrupted, and alexander, pointing to melissa, begged his brother to grant them a few minutes' speech with him. philip, however, scarcely spared a moment for greeting his brother and sister; and when, in answer to his request that they be brief in what they had to say, they replied that a few words would not suffice, philip was for putting them off till the morrow, as he did not choose to be disturbed just now. at this melissa took courage; she turned to serapion and modestly addressed him: "you, sir, look like a grave, kind man, and seem to have a regard for my brother. you, then, will help us, no doubt, to cure him of an illusion which troubles us. a dead girl, he says, met him, and he touched her hand." "and do you, sweet child, think that impossible?" the magian asked with gentle gravity. "have the thousands who bring not merely fruit and wine and money for their dead, but who even burn a black sheep for them--you, perhaps, have done the same--have they, i ask, done this so long in vain? i can not believe it. nay, i know from the ghosts themselves that this gives them pleasure; so they must have the organs of sense." "that we may rejoice departed souls by food and drink," said melissa, eagerly, "and that daimons at times mingle with the living, every one of course, believes; but who ever heard that warm blood stirred in them? and how can it be possible that they should remunerate a service with money, which certainly was not coined in their airy realm, but in the mint here?" "not too fast, fair maid," replied the magian, raising a warning hand. "there is no form which these intermediate beings can not assume. they have the control of all and everything which mortals may use, so the soul of korinna revisiting these scenes may quite well have paid the ferryman with an obolus." "then you know of it?" asked melissa in surprise; but the magian broke in, saying: "few such things remain hidden from him who knows, not even the smallest, if he strives after such knowledge." as he spoke he gave the girl such a look as made her eyelids fall, and he went on with greater warmth: "there would be fewer tears shed by deathbeds, my child, if we could but show the world the means by which the initiated hold converse with the souls of the dead." melissa shook her pretty head sadly, and the magian kindly stroked her waving hair; then, looking her straight in the eyes, he said: "the dead live. what once has been can never cease to be, any more than out of nothing can anything come. it is so simple; and so, too, are the workings of magic, which amaze you so much. what you call magic, when i practice it, eros, the great god of love, has wrought a thousand times in your breast. when your heart leaps at your brother's caress, when the god's arrow pierces you, and the glance of a lover fills you with gladness, when the sweet harmonies of fine music wrap your soul above this earth, or the wail of a child moves you to compassion, you have felt the magic power stirring in your own soul. you feel it when some mysterious power, without any will of your own, prompts you to some act, be it what it may. and, besides all this, if a leaf flutters off the table without being touched by any visible hand, you do not doubt that a draught of air, which you can neither hear nor see, has swept through the room. if at noon the world is suddenly darkened, you know, without looking up at the sky, that it is overcast by a cloud. in the very same way you can feel the nearness of a soul that was dear to you without being able to see it. all that is necessary is to strengthen the faculty which knows its presence, and give it the proper training, and then you will see and hear them. the magians have the key which unlocks the door of the world of spirits to the human senses. your noble brother, in whom the claims of the spirit have long since triumphed over those of sense, has found this key without seeking it, since he has been permitted to see korinna's soul. and if he follows a competent guide he will see her again." "but why? what good will it do him?" asked melissa, with a reproachful and anxious look at the man whose influence, as she divined would be pernicious to her brother, in spite of his knowledge. the magian gave a compassionate shrug, and in the look he cast at the philosopher, the question was legible, "what have such as these to do with the highest things?" philip nodded in impatient assent, and, without paying any further heed to his brother and sister, besought his friend to give him the proofs of the theory that the physical causation of things is weaker than the sympathy which connects them. melissa knew full well that any attempt now to separate philip from serapion would be futile; however, she would not leave the last chance untried, and asked him gravely whether he had forgotten his mother's tomb. he hastily assured her that he fully intended to visit it presently. fruit and fragrant oil could be had here at any hour of the night. "and your two wreaths?" she said, in mild reproach, for she had observed them both below the portrait of korinna. "i had another use for them," he said, evasively; and then he added, apologetically: "you have brought flowers enough, i know. if i can find time, i will go to-morrow to see my father." he nodded to them both, turned to the magian, and went on eagerly: "then that magical sympathy--" they did not wait to hear the discussion; alexander signed to his sister to follow him. he, too, knew that his brother's ear was deaf now to anything he could say. what serapion had said had riveted even his attention, and the question whether it might indeed be vouchsafed to living mortals to see the souls of the departed, and hear their voices, exercised his mind so greatly that he could not forbear asking his sister's opinion on such matters. but melissa's good sense had felt that there was something not quite sound in the magian's argument--nor did she conceal her conviction that philip, who was always hard to convince, had accepted serapion's views, not because he yielded to the weight of his reasons, but because he--and alexander, too, for that matter--hoped by his mediation to see the beautiful korinna again. this the artist admitted; but when he jested of the danger of a jealous quarrel between him and his brother, for the sake of a dead girl, there was something hard in his tone, and very unlike him, which melissa did not like. they breathed more freely as they got out into the open air, and her efforts to change the subject of their conversation were happily seconded; for at the door they met the family of their neighbor skopas, the owner of a stone-quarry, whose grave-plot adjoined theirs, and melissa was happy again as she heard her brother laughing as gayly as ever with skopas's pretty daughter. the mania had not taken such deep hold of the light-hearted young painter as of philip, the poring and gloomy philosopher; and she was glad as she heard her friend ino call alexander a faithless butterfly, while her sister helena declared that he was a godless scoffer. etext editor's bookmarks: man, in short, could be sure of nothing misfortunes commonly come in couples yoked like oxen this ebook was produced by david widger <widger@cecomet.net> [note: there is a short list of bookmarks, or pointers, at the end of the file for those who may wish to sample the author's ideas before making an entire meal of them. d.w.] the autobiography of georg ebers the story of my life from childhood to manhood volume 4. chapter xiii. the founders of the keilhau institute, and a glimpse at the history of the school. i was well acquainted with the three founders of our institute--fredrich froebel, middendorf, and langethal--and the two latter were my teachers. froebel was decidedly "the master who planned it." when we came to keilhau he was already sixty-six years old, a man of lofty stature, with a face which seemed to be carved with a dull knife out of brown wood. his long nose, strong chin, and large ears, behind which the long locks, parted in the middle, were smoothly brushed, would have rendered him positively ugly, had not his "come, let us live for our children," beamed so invitingly in his clear eyes. people did not think whether he was handsome or not; his features bore the impress of his intellectual power so distinctly that the first glance revealed the presence of a remarkable man. yet i must confess--and his portrait agrees with my memory--that his face by no means suggested the idealist and man of feeling; it seemed rather expressive of shrewdness, and to have been lined and worn by severe conflicts concerning the most diverse interests. but his voice and his glance were unusually winning, and his power over the heart of the child was limitless. a few words were sufficient to win completely the shyest boy whom he desired to attract; and thus it happened that, even when he had been with us only a few weeks, he was never seen crossing the courtyard without a group of the younger pupils hanging to his coattails and clasping his hands and arms. usually they were persuading him to tell stories, and when he condescended to do so, older ones flocked around him too, and they were never disappointed. what fire, what animation the old man had retained! we never called him anything but "oheim." the word "onkel" he detested as foreign, because it was derived from "avunculus" and "oncle." with the high appreciation he had of "tante"--whom he termed, next to the mother, the most important factor of education in the family--our "oheim" was probably specially agreeable to him. he was thoroughly a self-made man. the son of a pastor in oberweissbach, in thuringia, he had had a dreary childhood; for his mother died young, and he soon had a step-mother, who treated him with the utmost tenderness until her own children were born. then an indescribably sad time began for the neglected boy, whose dreamy temperament vexed even his own father. yet in this solitude his love for nature awoke. he studied plants, animals, minerals; and while his young heart vainly longed for love, he would have gladly displayed affection himself, if his timidity would have permitted him to do so. his family, seeing him prefer to dissect the bones of some animal rather than to talk with his parents, probably considered him a very unlovable child when they sent him, in his tenth year, to school in the city of ilm. he was received into the home of the pastor, his uncle hoffman, whose mother-in-law, who kept the house, treated him in the most cordial manner, and helped him to conquer the diffidence acquired during the solitude of the first years of his childhood. this excellent woman first made him familiar with the maternal feminine solicitude, closer observation of which afterwards led him, as well as pestalozzi, to a reform of the system of educating youth. in his sixteenth year he went to a forester for instruction, but did not remain long. meantime he had gained some mathematical knowledge, and devoted himself to surveying. by this and similar work he earned a living, until, at the end of seven years, he went to frankfort-on-themain to learn the rudiments of building. there fate brought him into contact with the pedagogue gruner, a follower of pestalozzi's method, and this experienced man, after their first conversation, exclaimed: "you must become a schoolmaster!" i have often noticed in life that a word at the right time and place has sufficed to give the destiny of a human being a different turn, and the remark of the frankfort educator fell into froebel's soul like a spark. he now saw his real profession clearly and distinctly before him. the restless years of wandering, during which, unloved and scarcely heeded, he had been thrust from one place to another, had awakened in his warm heart a longing to keep others from the same fate. he, who had been guided by no kind hand and felt miserable and at variance with himself, had long been ceaselessly troubled by the problem of how the young human plant could be trained to harmony with itself and to sturdy industry. gruner showed him that others were already devoting their best powers to solve it, and offered him an opportunity to try his ability in his model school. froebel joyfully accepted this offer, cast aside every other thought, and, with the enthusiasm peculiar to him, threw himself into the new calling in a manner which led gruner to praise the "fire and life" he understood how to awaken in his pupils. he also left it to froebel to arrange the plan of instruction which the frankfort senate wanted for the "model school," and succeeded in keeping him two years in his institution. when a certain frau von holzhausen was looking for a man who would have the ability to lead her spoiled sons into the right path, and froebel had been recommended, he separated from gruner and performed his task with rare fidelity and a skill bordering upon genius. the children, who were physically puny, recovered under his care, and the grateful mother made him their private tutor from 1807 till 1810. he chose verdun, where pestalozzi was then living, as his place of residence, and made himself thoroughly familiar with his method of education. as a whole, he could agree with him; but, as has already been mentioned, in some respects he went further than the swiss reformer. he himself called these years his "university course as a pedagogue," but they also furnished him with the means to continue the studies in natural history which he had commenced in jena. he had laid aside for this purpose part of his salary as tutor, and was permitted, from 1810 to 1812, to complete in gottingen his astronomical and mineralogical studies. yet the wish to try his powers as a pedagogue never deserted him; and when, in 1812, the position of teacher in the plamann institute in berlin was offered him, he accepted it. during his leisure hours he devoted himself to gymnastic exercises, and even late in life his eyes sparkled when he spoke of his friend, old jahn, and the political elevation of prussia. when the summons "to my people" called the german youth to war, froebel had already entered his thirty-first year, but this did not prevent his resigning his office and being one of the first to take up arms. he went to the field with the lutzow jagers, and soon after made the acquaintance among his comrades of the theological students langethal and middendorf. when, after the peace of paris, the young friends parted, they vowed eternal fidelity, and each solemnly promised to obey the other's summons, should it ever come. as soon as froebel took off the dark uniform of the black jagers he received a position as curator of the museum of mineralogy in the berlin university, which he filled so admirably that the position of professor of mineralogy was offered to him from sweden. but he declined, for another vocation summoned him which duty and inclination forbade him to refuse. his brother, a pastor in the thuringian village of griesheim on the ilm, died, leaving three sons who needed an instructor. the widow wished her brother-in-law friedrich to fill this office, and another brother, a farmer in osterode, wanted his two boys to join the trio. when froebel, in the spring of 1817, resigned his position, his friend langethal begged him to take his brother eduard as another pupil, and thus pestalozzi's enthusiastic disciple and comrade found his dearest wish fulfilled. he was now the head of his own school for boys, and these first six pupils-as he hoped with the confidence in the star of success peculiar to so many men of genius--must soon increase to twenty. some of these boys were specially gifted: one became the scholar and politician julius froebel, who belonged to the frankfort parliament of 1848, and another the jena professor of botany, eduard langethal. the new principal of the school could not teach alone, but he only needed to remind his old army comrade, middendorf, of his promise, to induce him to interrupt his studies in berlin, which were nearly completed, and join him. he also had his eye on langethal, if his hope should be fulfilled. he knew what a treasure he would possess for his object in this rare man. there was great joy in the little griesheim circle, and the thuringian (froebel) did not regret for a moment that he had resigned his secure position; but the westphalian (middendorf) saw here the realization of the ideal which froebel's kindling words had impressed upon his soul beside many a watch-fire. the character of the two men is admirably described in the following passage from a letter of "the oldest pupil": "both had seen much of the serious side of life, and returned from the war with the higher inspiration which is hallowed by deep religious feeling. the idea of devoting their powers with self-denial and sacrifice to the service of their native land had become a fixed resolution; the devious paths which so many men entered were far from their thoughts. the youth, the young generation of their native land, were alone worthy of their efforts. they meant to train them to a harmonious development of mind and body; and upon these young people their pure spirit of patriotism exerted a vast influence. when we recall the mighty power which froebel could exercise at pleasure over his fellowmen, and especially over children, we shall deem it natural that a child suddenly transported into this circle could forget its past." when i entered it, though at that time it was much modified and established on firm foundations, i met with a similar experience. it was not only the open air, the forest, the life in nature which so captivated new arrivals at keilhau, but the moral earnestness and the ideal aspiration which consecrated and ennobled life. then, too, there was that "nerve-strengthening" patriotism which pervaded everything, filling the place of the superficial philanthropy of the basedow system of education. but froebel's influence was soon to draw, as if by magnetic power, the man who had formed an alliance with him amid blood and steel, and who was destined to lend the right solidity to the newly erected structure of the institute--i mean heinrich langethal, the most beloved and influential of my teachers, who stood beside froebel's inspiring genius and middendorf's lovable warmth of feeling as the character, and at the same time the fully developed and trained intellect, whose guidance was so necessary to the institute. the life of this rare teacher can be followed step by step from the first years of his childhood in his autobiography and many other documents, but i can only attempt here to sketch in broad outlines the character of the man whose influence upon my whole inner life has been, up to the present hour, a decisive one. the recollection of him makes me inclined to agree with the opinion to which a noble lady sought to convert me--namely, that our lives are far more frequently directed into a certain channel by the influence of an unusual personality than by events, experiences, or individual reflections. langethal was my teacher for several years. when i knew him he was totally blind, and his eyes, which are said to have flashed so brightly and boldly on the foe in war, and gazed so winningly into the faces of friends in time of peace, had lost their lustre. but his noble features seemed transfigured by the cheerful earnestness which is peculiar to the old man, who, even though only with the eye of the mind, looks back upon a well-spent, worthy life, and who does not fear death, because he knows that god who leads all to the goal allotted by nature destined him also for no other. his tall figure could vie with barop's, and his musical voice was unusually deep. it possessed a resistless power when, excited himself, he desired to fill our young souls with his own enthusiasm. the blind old man, who had nothing more to command and direct, moved through our merry, noisy life like a silent admonition to good and noble things. outside of the lessons he never raised his voice for orders or censure, yet we obediently followed his signs. to be allowed to lead him was an honor and pleasure. he made us acquainted with homer, and taught us ancient and modern history. to this day i rejoice that not one of us ever thought of using 'pons asinorum,' or copied passage, though he was perfectly sightless, and we were obliged to translate to him and learn by heart whole sections of the iliad. to have done so would have seemed as shameful as the pillage of an unguarded sanctuary or the abuse of a wounded hero. and he certainly was one! we knew this from his comrades in the war and his stories of 1813, which were at once so vivid and so modest. when he explained homer or taught ancient history a special fervor animated him; for he was one of the chosen few whose eyes were opened by destiny to the full beauty and sublimity of ancient greece. i have listened at the university to many a famous interpreter of the hellenic and roman poets, and many a great historian, but not one of them ever gave me so distinct an impression of living with the ancients as heinrich langethal. there was something akin to them in his pure, lofty soul, ever thirsting for truth and beauty, and, besides, he had graduated from the school of a most renowned teacher. the outward aspect of the tall old man was eminently aristocratic, yet his birthplace was the house of a plain though prosperous mechanic. he was born at erfurt, in 1792. when very young his father, a man unusually sensible and well-informed for his station in life, entrusted him with the education of a younger brother, the one who, as i have mentioned, afterwards became a professor at jena, and the boy's progress was so rapid that other parents had requested to have their sons share the hours of instruction. after completing his studies at the grammar-school he wanted to go to berlin, for, though the once famous university still existed in erfurt, it had greatly deteriorated. his description of it is half lamentable, half amusing, for at that time it was attended by thirty students, for whom seventy professors were employed. nevertheless, there were many obstacles to be surmounted ere he could obtain permission to attend the berlin university; for the law required every native of erfurt, who intended afterwards to aspire to any office, to study at least two years in his native city--at that time french. but, in defiance of all hindrances, he found his way to berlin, and in 1811 was entered in the university just established there as the first student from erfurt. he wished to devote himself to theology, and neander, de wette, marheineke, schleiermacher, etc., must have exerted a great power of attraction over a young man who desired to pursue that study. at the latter's lectures he became acquainted with middendorf. at first he obtained little from either. schleiermacher seemed to him too temporizing and obscure. "he makes veils." he thought the young westphalian, at their first meeting, merely "a nice fellow." but in time he learned to understand the great theologian, and the "favourite teacher" noticed him and took him into his house. but first fichte, and then friedrich august wolf, attracted him far more powerfully than schleiermacher. whenever he spoke of wolf his calm features glowed and his blind eyes seemed to sparkle. he owed all that was best in him to the great investigator, who sharpened his pupil's appreciation of the exhaustless store of lofty ideas and the magic of beauty contained in classic antiquity, and had he been allowed to follow his own inclination, he would have turned his back on theology, to devote all his energies to the pursuit of philology and archaeology. the homeric question which wolf had propounded in connection with goethe, and which at that time stirred the whole learned world, had also moved langethal so deeply that, even when an old man, he enjoyed nothing more than to speak of it to us and make us familiar with the pros and cons which rendered him an upholder of his revered teacher. he had been allowed to attend the lectures on the first four books of the iliad, and --i have living witnesses of the fact--he knew them all verse by verse, and corrected us when we read or recited them as if he had the copy in his hand. true, he refreshed his naturally excellent memory by having them all read aloud. i shall never forget his joyous mirth as he listened to my delivery of wolf's translation of aristophanes's acharnians; but i was pleased that he selected me to supply the dear blind eyes. whenever he called me for this purpose he already had the book in the side pocket of his long coat, and when, beckoning significantly, he cried, "come, bear," i knew what was before me, and would have gladly resigned the most enjoyable game, though he sometimes had books read which were by no means easy for me to understand. i was then fourteen or fifteen years old. need i say that it was my intercourse with this man which implanted in my heart the love of ancient days that has accompanied me throughout my life? the elevation of the prussian nation led langethal also from the university to the war. rumor first brought to berlin the tidings of the destruction of the great army on the icy plains of russia; then its remnants, starving, worn, ragged, appeared in the capital; and the street-boys, who not long before had been forced by the french soldiers to clean their boots, now with little generosity--they were only "streetboys"--shouted sneeringly, "say, mounseer, want your boots blacked?" then came the news of the convention of york, and at last the irresolute king put an end to the doubts and delays which probably stirred the blood of every one who is familiar with droysen's classic "life of fieldmarshal york." from breslau came the summons "to my people," which, like a warm spring wind, melted the ice and woke in the hearts of the german youth a matchless budding and blossoming. the snow-drops which bloomed during those march days of 1813 ushered in the long-desired day of freedom, and the call "to arms!" found the loudest echo in the hearts of the students. it stirred the young, yet even in those days circumspect langethal, too, and showed him his duty but difficulties confronted him; for pastor ritschel, a native of erfurt, to whom he confided his intention, warned him not to write to his father. erfurt, his own birthplace, was still under french rule, and were he to communicate his plan in writing and the letter should be opened in the "black room," with other suspicious mail matter, it might cost the life of the man whose son was preparing to commit high-treason by fighting against the ruler of his country--napoleon, the emperor of france. "where will you get the uniform, if your father won't help you, and you want to join the black jagers?" asked the pastor, and received the answer: "the cape of my cloak will supply the trousers. i can have a red collar put on my cloak, my coat can be dyed black and turned into a uniform, and i have a hanger." "that's right!" cried the worthy minister, and gave his young friend ten thalers. middendorf, too, reported to the lutzow jagers at once, and so did the son of professor bellermann, and their mutual friend bauer, spite of his delicate health which seemed to unfit him for any exertion. they set off on the 11th of april, and while the spring was budding alike in the outside world and in young breasts, a new flower of friendship expanded in the hearts of these three champions of the same sacred cause; for langethal and middendorf found their froebel. this was in dresden, and the league formed there was never to be dissolved. they kept their eyes fixed steadfastly on the ideals of youth, until in old age the sight of all three failed. part of the blessings which were promised to the nation when they set forth to battle they were permitted to see seven lustra later, in 1848, but they did not live to experience the realization of their fairest youthful dream, the union of germany. i must deny myself the pleasure of describing the battles and the marches of the lutzow corps, which extended to aachen and oudenarde; but will mention here that langethal rose to the rank of sergeant, and had to perform the duties of a first lieutenant; and that, towards the end of the campaign, middendorf was sent with lieutenant reil to induce blucher to receive the corps in his vanguard. the old commander gratified their wish; they had proved their fitness for the post when they won the victory at the gohrde, where two thousand frenchmen were killed and as many more taken prisoners. the sight of the battlefield had seemed unendurable to the gentle nature of middendorf he had formed a poetical idea of the campaign as an expedition against the hereditary foe. now that he had confronted the bloodstained face of war with all its horrors, he fell into a state of melancholy from which he could scarcely rouse himself. after this battle the three friends were quartered in castle gohrde, and there enjoyed a delightful season of rest after months of severe hardships. their corps had been used as the extreme vanguard against davoust's force, which was thrice their superior in numbers, and in consequence they were subjected to great fatigues. they had almost forgotten how it seemed to sleep in a bed and eat at a table. one night march had followed another. they had often seized their food from the kettles and eaten it at the next stopping-place, but all was cheerfully done; the light-heartedness of youth did not vanish from their enthusiastic hearts. there was even no lack of intellectual aliment, for a little field-library had been established by the exchange of books. langethal told us of his night's rest in a ditch, which was to entail disastrous consequences. utterly exhausted, sleep overpowered him in the midst of a pouring rain, and when he awoke he discovered that he was up to his neck in water. his damp bed--the ditch--had gradually filled, but the sleep was so profound that even the rising moisture had not roused him. the very next morning he was attacked with a disease of the eyes, to which he attributed his subsequent blindness. on the 26th of august there was a prospect of improvement in the condition of the corps. davoust had sent forty wagons of provisions to hamburg, and the men were ordered to capture them. the attack was successful, but at what a price! theodor korner, the noble young poet whose songs will commemorate the deeds of the lutzow corps so long as german men and boys sing his "thou sword at my side," or raise their voices in the refrain of the lutzow jagers' song: "do you ask the name of yon reckless band? 'tis lutzow's black troopers dashing swift through the land!" langethal first saw the body of the author of "lyre and sword" and "zriny" under an oak at wobbelin; but he was to see it once more under quite different circumstances. he has mentioned it in his autobiography, and i have heard him describe several times his visit to the corpse of theodor korner. he had been quartered in wobbelin, and shared his room with an oberjager von behrenhorst, son of the postmaster-general in dessau, who had taken part in the battle of jena as a young lieutenant and returned home with a darkened spirit. at the summons "to my people," he had enlisted at once as a private soldier in the lutzow corps, where he rose rapidly to the rank of oberjager. during the war he had often met langethal and middendorf; but the quiet, reserved man, prematurely grave for his years, attached himself so closely to korner that he needed no other friend. after the death of the poet on the 26th of august, 1813, he moved silently about as though completely crushed. on the night which followed the 27th he invited his room-mate langethal to go with him to the body of his friend. both went first to the village church, where the dead jagers lay in two long black rows. a solemn stillness pervaded the little house of god, which had become during this night the abode of death, and the nocturnal visitors gazed silently at the pallid, rigid features of one lifeless young form after another, but without finding him whom they sought. during this mute review of corpses it seemed to langethal as if death were singing a deep, heartrending choral, and he longed to pray for these young, crushed human blossoms; but his companion led the way into the guard's little room. there lay the poet, "the radiance of an angel on his face," though his body bore many traces of the fury of the battle. deeply moved, langethal stood gazing down upon the form of the man who had died for his native land, while behrenhorst knelt on the floor beside him, silently giving himself up to the anguish of his soul. he remained in this attitude a long time, then suddenly started up, threw his arms upward, and exclaimed, "korner, i'll follow you!" with these words behrenhorst darted out of the little room into the darkness; and a few weeks after he, too, had fallen for the sacred cause of his native land. they had seen another beloved comrade perish in the battle of gohrde, a handsome young man of delicate figure and an unusually reserved manner. middendorf, with whom he--his name was prohaska--had been on more intimate terms than the others, once asked him, when he timidly avoided the girls and women who cast kindly glances at him, if his heart never beat faster, and received the answer, "i have but one love to give, and that belongs to our native land." while the battle was raging, middendorf was fighting close beside his comrade. when the enemy fired a volley the others stooped, but prohaska stood erect, exclaiming, when he was warned, "no bowing! i'll make no obeisance to the french!" a few minutes after, the brave soldier, stricken by a bullet, fell on the greensward. his friends bore him off the field, and prohaska--eleonore prohaska--proved to be a girl! while in castle gohrde, froebel talked with his friends about his favourite plan, which he had already had a view in gottingen, of establishing a school for boys, and while developing his educational ideal to them and at the same time mentioning that he had passed his thirtieth birthday, and alluding to the postponement of his plan by the war, he exclaimed, to explain why he had taken up arms: "how can i train boys whose devotion i claim, unless i have proved by my own deeds how a man should show devotion to the general welfare?" these words made a deep impression upon the two friends, and increased middendorf's enthusiastic reverence for the older comrade, whose experiences and ideas had opened a new world to him. the peace of paris, and the enrolment of the lutzow corps in the line, brought the trio back to berlin to civil life. there also each frequently sought the others, until, in the spring of 1817, froebel resigned the permanent position in the bureau of mineralogy in order to establish his institute. middendorf had been bribed by the saying of his admired friend that he "had found the unity of life." it gave the young philosopher food for thought, and, because he felt that he had vainly sought this unity and was dissatisfied, he hoped to secure it through the society of the man who had become everything to him his wish was fulfilled, for as an educator he grew as it were into his own motto, "lucid, genuine, and true to life." middendorf gave up little when he followed froebel. the case was different with langethal. he had entered as a tutor the bendemann household at charlottenburg, where he found a second home. he taught with brilliant success children richly gifted in mind and heart, whose love he won. it was "a glorious family" which permitted him to share its rich social life, and in whose highly gifted circle he could be sure of finding warm sympathy in his intellectual interests. protected from all external anxieties, he had under their roof ample leisure for industrious labour and also for intercourse with his own friends. in july, 1817, he passed the last examination with the greatest distinction, receiving the "very good," rarely bestowed; and a brilliant career lay before him. directly after this success three pulpits were offered to him, but he accepted neither, because he longed for rest and quiet occupation. the summons from froebel to devote himself to his infant institute, where langethal had placed his younger brother, also reached him. the little school moved on st. john's day, 1817, from griesheim to keilhau, where the widow of pastor froebel had been offered a larger farm. the place which she and her children's teacher found was wonderfully adapted to froebel's purpose, and seemed to promise great advantages both to the pupils and to the institute. there was much building and arranging to be accomplished, but means to do so were obtained, and the first pupil described very amusingly the entrance into the new home, the furnishing, the discovery of all the beauties and advantages which we found as an old possession in keilhau, and the endeavour, so characteristic of middendorf, to adapt even the less attractive points to his own poetic ideas. only the hours of instruction fared badly, and froebel felt that he needed a man of fully developed strength in order to give the proper foundation to the instruction of the boys who were entrusted to his care. he knew a man of this stamp in the student f. a. wolfs, whose talent for teaching had been admirably proved in the bendemann family. "langethal," as the first pupil describes him, was at that time a very handsome man of five-and-twenty years. his brow was grave, but his features expressed kindness of heart, gentleness, and benevolence. the dignity of his whole bearing was enhanced by the sonorous tones of his voice--he retained them until old age--and his whole manner revealed manly firmness. middendorf was more pleasing to women, langethal to men. middendorf attracted those who saw, langethal those who heard him, and the confidence he inspired was even more lasting than that aroused by middendorf. what marvel that froebel made every effort to win this rare power for the young institute? but langethal declined, to the great vexation of middendorf. diesterweg called the latter "a st. john," but our dear, blind teacher added, "and froebel was his christus." the enthusiastic young westphalian, who had once believed he saw in this man every masculine virtue, and whose life appeared emblematical, patiently accepted everything, and considered every one a "renegade" who had ever followed froebel and did not bow implicitly to his will. so he was angered by langethal's refusal. the latter had been offered, with brilliant prospects for the present and still fairer ones for the future, a position as a tutor in silesia, a place which secured him the rest he desired, combined with occupation suited to his tastes. he was to share the labour of teaching with another instructor, who was to take charge of the exact sciences, with which he was less familiar, and he was also permitted to teach his brother with the young counts stolberg. he accepted, but before going to silesia he wished to visit his keilhau friends and take his brother away with him. he did so, and the "diplomacy" with which froebel succeeded in changing the decision of the resolute young man and gaining him over to his own interests, is really remarkable. it won for the infant institute in the person of langethal-if the expression is allowable--the backbone. froebel had sent middendorf to meet his friend, and the latter, on the way, told him of the happiness which he had found in his new home and occupation. then they entered keilhau, and the splendid landscape which surrounds it needs no praise. froebel received his former comrade with the utmost cordiality, and the sight of the robust, healthy, merry boys who were lying on the floor that evening, building forts and castles with the wooden blocks which froebel had had made for them according to his own plan, excited the keenest interest. he had come to take his brother away; but when he saw him, among other happy companions of his own age, complete the finest structure of all--a gothic cathedral--it seemed almost wrong to tear the child from this circle. he gazed sadly at his brother when he came to bid him "good-night," and then remained alone with froebel. the latter was less talkative than usual, waiting for his friend to tell him of the future which awaited him in silesia. when he heard that a second tutor was to relieve langethal of half his work, he exclaimed, with the greatest anxiety: "you do not know him, and yet intend to finish a work of education with him? what great chances you are hazarding!" the next morning froebel asked his friend what goal in life he had set before him, and langethal replied: "like the apostle, i would fain proclaim the gospel to all men according to the best of my powers, in order to bring them into close communion with the redeemer." froebel answered, thoughtfully: "if you desire that, you must, like the apostles, know men. you must be able to enter into the life of every one--here a peasant, there a mechanic. if you can not, do not hope for success; your influence will not extend far." how wise and convincing the words sounded! and froebel touched the sensitive spot in the young minister, who was thoroughly imbued with the sacred beauty of his life-task, yet certainly knew the gospels, his classic authors, and apostolic fathers much better than he did the world. he thoughtfully followed froebel, who, with middendorf and the boys, led him up the steiger, the mountain whose summit afforded the magnificent view i have described. it was the hour when the setting sun pours its most exquisite light over the mountains and valleys. the heart of the young clergyman, tortured by anxious doubts, swelled at the sight of this magnificence, and froebel, seeing what was passing in his mind, exclaimed: "come, comrade, let us have one of our old war-songs." the musical "black jager" of yore willingly assented; and how clearly and enthusiastically the chorus of boyish voices chimed in! when it died away, the older man passed his arm around his friend's shoulders, and, pointing to the beautiful region lying before them in the sunset glow, exclaimed: "why seek so far away what is close at hand? a work is established here which must be built by the hand of god! implicit devotion and selfsacrifice are needed." while speaking, he gazed steadfastly into his friend's tearful eyes, as if he had found his true object in life, and when he held out his hand langethal clasped it--he could not help it. that very day a letter to the counts stolberg informed them that they must seek another tutor for their sons, and froebel and keilhau could congratulate themselves on having gained their langethal. the management of the school was henceforward in the hands of a man of character, while the extensive knowledge and the excellent method of a well-trained scholar had been obtained for the educational department. the new institute now prospered rapidly. the renown of the fresh, healthful life and the able tuition of the pupils spread far beyond the limits of thuringia. the material difficulties with which the headmaster had had to struggle after the erection of the large new buildings were also removed when froebel's prosperous brother in osterode decided to take part in the work and move to keilhau. he understood farming, and, by purchasing more land and woodlands, transformed the peasant holding into a considerable estate. when froebel's restless spirit drew him to switzerland to undertake new educational enterprises, and some one was needed who could direct the business management, barop, the steadfast man of whom i have already spoken, was secured. deeply esteemed and sincerely beloved, he managed the institute during the time that we three brothers were pupils there. he had found many things within to arrange on a more practical foundation, many without to correct: for the long locks of most of the pupils; the circumstance that three lutzen jagers, one of whom had delivered the oration at a students' political meeting, had established the school; that barop had been persecuted as a demagogue on account of his connection with a students' political society; and, finally, froebel's relations with switzerland and the liberal educational methods of the school, had roused the suspicions of the berlin demagogue-hunters, and therefore demagogic tendencies, from which in reality it had always held aloof, were attributed to the institute. yes, we were free, in so far that everything which could restrict or retard our physical and mental development was kept away from us, and our teachers might call themselves so because, with virile energy, they had understood how to protect the institute from every injurious and narrowing outside influence. the smallest and the largest pupil was free, for he was permitted to be wholly and entirely his natural self, so long as he kept within the limits imposed by the existing laws. but license was nowhere more sternly prohibited than at keilhau; and the deep religious feeling of its head-masters--barop, langethal, and middendorf-ought to have taught the suspicious spies in berlin that the command, "render unto caesar the things that are caesar's," would never be violated here. the time i spent in keilhau was during the period of the worst reaction, and i now know that our teachers would have sat on the left in the prussian landtag; yet we never heard a disrespectful word spoken of frederick william iv, and we were instructed to show the utmost respect to the prince of the little country of rudolstadt to which keilhau belonged. barop, spite of his liberal tendencies, was highly esteemed by this petty sovereign, decorated with an order, and raised to the rank of councillor of education. from a hundred isolated recollections and words which have lingered in my memory i have gathered that our teachers were liberals in a very moderate way, yet they were certainly guilty of "demagogic aspirations" in so far as that they desired for their native land only what we, thank heaven, now possess its unity, and a popular representation, by a free election of all its states, in a german parliament. what enthusiasm for the emperor william, bismarck, and von moltke, langethal, middendorf, and barop would have inspired in our hearts had they been permitted to witness the great events of 1870 and 1871! besides, politics were kept from us, and this had become known in wider circles when we entered the institute, for most of the pupils belonged to loyal families. many were sons of the higher officials, officers, and landed proprietors; and as long locks had long since become the exception, and the keilhau pupils were as well mannered as possible, many noblemen, among them chamberlains and other court officials, decided to send their boys to the institute. the great manufacturers and merchants who placed their sons in the institute were also not men favourable to revolution, and many of our comrades became officers in the german army. others are able scholars, clergymen, and members of parliament; others again government officials, who fill high positions; and others still are at the head of large industrial or mercantile enterprises. i have not heard of a single individual who has gone to ruin, and of very many who have accomplished things really worthy of note. but wherever i have met an old pupil of keilhau, i have found in him the same love for the institute, have seen his eyes sparkle more brightly when we talked of langethal, middendorf, and barop. not one has turned out a sneak or a hypocrite. the present institution is said to be an admirable one; but the "realschule" of keilhau, which has been forced to abandon its former humanistic foundation, can scarcely train to so great a variety of callings the boys now entrusted to its care. chapter xiv. the little country of rudolstadt in which keilhau lies had had its revolution, though it was but a small and bloodless one. true, the insurrection had nothing to do with human beings, but involved the destruction of living creatures. greater liberty in hunting was demanded. this might seem a trivial matter, yet it was of the utmost importance to both disputants. the wide forests of the country had hitherto been the hunting-grounds of the prince, and not a gun could be fired there without his permission. to give up these "happy hunting-grounds" was a severe demand upon the eager sportsman who occupied the rudolstadt throne, and the rustic population would gladly have spared him had it been possible. but the game in rudolstadt had become a veritable torment, which destroyed the husbandmen's hopes of harvests. the peasant, to save his fields from the stags and does which broke into them in herds at sunset, tried to keep them out by means of clappers and bad odours. i have seen and smelled the so-called "frenchman's oil" with which the posts were smeared, that its really diabolical odour--i don't know from what horrors it was compounded--might preserve the crops. the ornament of the forests had become the object of the keenest hate, and as soon as--shortly before we entered keilhau--hunting was freely permitted, the peasants gave full vent to their rage, set off for the woods with the old muskets they had kept hidden in the garrets, or other still more primitive weapons, and shot or struck down all the game they encountered. roast venison was cheap for weeks on rudolstadt tables, and the pupils had many an unexpected pleasure. the hunting exploits of the older scholars were only learned by us younger ones as secrets, and did not reach the teachers' ears until long after. but the woods furnished other pleasures besides those enjoyed by the sportsman. every ramble through the forest enriched our knowledge of plants and animals, and i soon knew the different varieties of stones also; yet we did not suspect that this knowledge was imparted according to a certain system. we were taught as it were by stealth, and how many pleasant, delicious things attracted us to the class-rooms on the wooded heights! vegetation was very abundant in the richly watered mountain valley. our favourite spring was the schaalbach at the foot of the steiger,--[we pupils bought it of the peasant who owned it and gave it to barop.]-because there was a fowling-floor connected with it, where i spent many a pleasant evening. it could be used only after breeding-time, and consisted of a hut built of boughs where the birdcatcher lodged. flowing water rippled over the little wooden rods on which the feathered denizens of the woods alighted to quench their thirst before going to sleep. when some of them--frequently six at a time--had settled on the perches in the trough, it was drawn into the but by a rope, a net was spread over the water and there was nothing more to do except take the captives out. the name of the director of this amusement was merbod. he could imitate the voices of all the birds, and was a merry, versatile fellow, who knew how to do a thousand things, and of whom we boys were very fond. the peasant bredernitz often took us to his crow-hut, which was a hole in the ground covered with boughs and pieces of turf, where the hunters lay concealed. the owl, which lured the crows and other birds of prey, was fastened on a perch, and when they flew up, often in large flocks, to tease the old cross-patch which sat blinking angrily, they were shot down from loop-holes which had been left in the hut. the hawks which prey upon doves and hares, the crows and magpies, can thus easily be decimated. we had learned to use our guns in the playground. the utmost caution was enforced, and although, as i have already remarked, we handled our own guns when we were only lads of twelve years old, i can not recall a single accident which occurred. once, during the summer, there was a schutzenfest, in which a large wooden eagle was shot from the pole. whoever brought down the last splinter became king. this honour once fell to my share, and i was permitted to choose a queen. i crowned marie breimann, a pretty, slender young girl from brunswick, whose greek profile and thick silken hair had captivated my fancy. she and adelheid barop, the head-master's daughter, were taught in our classes, but marie attracted me more strongly than the diligent keilhau lassies with their beautiful black eyes and the other two blooming and graceful westphalian girls who were also schoolmates. but the girls occupied a very small place in our lives. they could neither wrestle, shoot, nor climb, so we gave them little thought, and anything like actual flirtation was unknown--we had so many better things in our heads. wrestling and other sports threw everything else into the shade. pretty marie, however, probably suspected which of my schoolmates i liked best, and up to the time of my leaving the institute i allowed no other goddess to rival her. but there were plenty of amusements at keilhau besides bird-shooting. i will mention the principal ones which came during the year, for to describe them in regular order would be impossible. of the longer walks which we took in the spring and summer the most beautiful was the one leading through blankenburg to the entrance of the schwarzathal, and thence through the lofty, majestically formed group of cliffs at whose foot the clear, swift schwarza flows, dashing and foaming, to schwarzburg. how clearly our songs echoed from the granite walls of the river valley, and how lively it always was at "the stag," whose landlord possessed a certain power of attraction to us boys in his own person; for, as the stoutest man in thuringia, he was a feast for the eyes! his jollity equalled his corpulence, and how merrily he used to jest with us lads! of the shorter expeditions i will mention only the two we took most frequently, which led us in less than an hour to blankenburg or greifenstein, a large ruin, many parts of which were in tolerable preservation. it had been the home of count gunther von schwarzburg, who paid with his life for the honour of wearing the german imperial crown a few short months. we also enjoyed being sent to the little town of blankenburg on errands, for it was the home of our drawing-master, the artist unger, one of those original characters whom we rarely meet now. when we knew him, the handsome, broad-shouldered man, with his thick red beard, looked as one might imagine odin. summer and winter his dress was a grey woollen jacket, into which a short pipe was thrust, and around his hips a broad leather belt, from which hung a bag containing his drawing materials. he cared nothing for public opinion, and, as an independent bachelor, desired nothing except "to be let alone," for he professed the utmost contempt for the corrupt brood yclept "mankind." he never came to our entertainments, probably because he would be obliged to wear something in place of his woollen jacket, and because he avoided women, whom he called "the roots of all evil." i still remember how once, after emptying the vials of his wrath upon mankind, he said, in reply to the question whether he included barop among the iniquitous brood, "why, of course not; he doesn't belong to it!" there was no lack of opportunity to visit him, for a great many persons employed to work for the school lived in blankenburg, and we were known to be carefully watched there. i remember two memorable expeditions to the little town. once my brother burned his arm terribly during a puppet-show by the explosion of some powder provided for the toy cannon. the poor fellow suffered so severely that i could not restrain my tears, and though it was dark, and snow lay on the mountains, off i went to blankenburg to get the old surgeon, calling to some of my school-mates at the door to tell them of my destination. it was no easy matter to wade through the snow; but, fortunately, the stars gave me sufficient light to keep in the right path as i dashed down the mountain to blankenburg. how often i plunged into ditches filled with snow and slid down short descents i don't know; but as i write these lines i can vividly remember the relief with which i at last trod the pavement of the little town. old wetzel was at home, and a carriage soon conveyed us over the only road to the institute. i was not punished. barop only laid his hand on my head, and said, "i am glad you are back again, bear." another trip to blankenburg entailed results far more serious--nay, almost cost me my life. i was then fifteen, and one sunday afternoon i went with barop's permission to visit the hamburgers, but on condition that i should return by nine o'clock at latest. time, however, slipped by in pleasant conversation until a later hour, and as thunder-clouds were rising my host tried to keep me overnight. but i thought this would not be allowable, and, armed with an umbrella, i set off along the road, with which i was perfectly familiar. but the storm soon burst, and it grew so dark that, except when the lightning flashed, i could not see my hand before my face. yet on i went, though wondering that the path along which i groped my way led upward, until the lightning showed me that, by mistake, i had taken the road to greifenstein. i turned back, and while feeling my way through the gloom the earth seemed to vanish under my feet, and i plunged headlong into a viewless gulf--not through empty space, however, but a wet, tangled mass which beat against my face, until at last there was a jerk which shook me from head to foot. i no longer fell, but i heard above me the sound of something tearing, and the thought darted through my mind that i was hanging by my trousers. groping around, i found vine-leaves, branches, and lattice-work, to which i clung, and tearing away with my foot the cloth which had caught on the end of a lath, i again brought my head where it should be, and discovered that i was hanging on a vine-clad wall. a flash of lightning showed me the ground not very far below and, by the help of the espalier and the vines i at last stood in a garden. almost by a miracle i escaped with a few scratches; but when i afterwards went to look at the scene of this disaster cold chills ran down my back, for half the distance whence i plunged into the garden would have been enough to break my neck. our games were similar to those which lads of the same age play now, but there were some additional ones that could only take place in a wooded mountain valley like keilhau; such, for instance, were our indian games, which engrossed us at the time when we were pleased with cooper's "leather-stocking," but i need not describe them. when i was one of the older pupils a party of us surprised some "panzen" --as we called the younger ones--one hot afternoon engaged in a very singular game of their own invention. they had undressed to the skin in the midst of the thickest woods and were performing paradise and the fall of man, as they had probably just been taught in their religious lesson. for the expulsion of adam and our universal mother eve, the angel--in this case there were two of them--used, instead of the flaming sword, stout hazel rods, with which they performed their part of warders so overzealously that a quarrel followed, which we older ones stopped. thus many bands of pupils invented games of their own, but, thank heaven, rarely devised such absurdities. our later homeric battles any teacher would have witnessed with pleasure. froebel would have greeted them as signs of creative imagination and "individual life" in the boys. chapter xv. summer pleasures and rambles wholly unlike these, genuinely and solely a product of keilhau, was the great battle-game which we called bergwacht, one of my brightest memories of those years. long preparations were needed, and these, too, were delightful. on the wooded plain at the summit of the kolm, a mountain which belonged mainly to the institute, war was waged during the summer every saturday evening until far into the night, whenever the weather was fine, which does not happen too often in thuringia. the whole body of pupils was divided into three, afterwards into four sections, each of which had its own citadel. after two had declared war against two others, the battle raged until one party captured the strongholds of the other. this was done as soon as a combatant had set foot on the hearth of a hostile fortress. the battle itself was fought with stakes blunted at the tops. every one touched by the weapon of an enemy must declare himself a prisoner. to admit this, whenever it happened, was a point of honour. in order to keep all the combatants in action, a fourth division was added soon after our arrival, and of course it was necessary to build a strong hold like the others. this consisted of a hut with a stone roof, in which fifteen or twenty boys could easily find room and rest, a strong wall which protected us up to our foreheads, and surrounded the front of the citadel in a semicircle, as well as a large altar-like hearth which rose in the midst of the semicircular space surrounded by the wall. we built this fortress ourselves, except that our teacher of handicrafts, the sapper sabum, sometimes gave us a hint. the first thing was to mark out the plan, then with the aid of levers pry the rocks out of the fields, and by means of a two-wheeled cart convey them to the site chosen, fit them neatly together, stuff the interstices with moss, and finally put on a roof made of pine logs which we felled ourselves, earth, moss, and branches. how quickly we learned to use the plummet, take levels, hew the stone, wield the axes! and what a delight it was when the work was finished and we saw our own building! perhaps we might not have accomplished it without the sapper, but every boy believed that if he were cast, like robinson crusoe, on a desert island, he could build a hut of his own. as soon as this citadel was completed, preparations for the impending battle were made. the walls and encircling walls of all were prepared, and we were drilled in the use of the poles. this, too, afforded us the utmost pleasure. touching the head of an enemy was strictly prohibited; yet many a slight wound was given while fighting in the gloom of the woods. each of the four bergwachts had its leader. the captain of the first was director of the whole game, and instead of a lance wore a rapier. i considered it a great honour when this dignity was conferred on me. one of its consequences was that my portrait was sketched by "old unger" in the so-called "bergwacht book," which contained the likenesses of all my predecessors. during the summer months all eyes, even as early as thursday, were watching the weather. when saturday evening proved pleasant and barop had given his consent, there was great rejoicing in the institute, and the morning hours must have yielded the teachers little satisfaction. directly after dinner everybody seized his pole and the other "bergwacht" equipments. the alliances were formed under the captain's guidance. we will say that the contest was to begin with the first and third bergwacht pitted against the second and fourth, and be followed by another, with the first and second against the third and fourth. we assembled in the court-yard just before sunset. barop made a little speech, exhorting us to fight steadily, and especially to observe all the rules and yield ourselves captives as soon as an enemy's pole touched us. he never neglected on these occasions to admonish us that, should our native land ever need the armed aid of her sons, we should march to battle as joyously as we now did to the bergwacht, which was to train us to skill in her defence. then the procession set off in good order, four or six pupils harnessing themselves voluntarily to the cart in which the kegs of beer were dragged up the kolm. off we went, singing merrily, and at the top the women were waiting for us with a lunch. then the warriors scattered, the fire was lighted on every hearth, the plan of battle was discussed, some were sent out to reconnoitre, others kept to defend the citadel. at last the conflict began. could i ever forget the scenes in the forest! no indian tribe on the war-path ever strained every sense more keenly to watch, surround, and surprise the foe. and the hand-to-hand fray! what delight it was to burst from the shelter of the thicket and touch with our poles two, three, or four of the surprised enemies ere they thought of defence! and what self-denial it required when--spite of the most skilful parry--we felt the touch of the pole, to confess it, and be led off as a prisoner! voices and shouts echoed through the woods, and the glare of five fires pierced the darkness--five--for flames were also blazing where the women were cooking the supper. but the light was brightest, the shouts of the combatants were loudest, in the vicinity of the forts. the effort of the besiegers was to spy out unguarded places, and occupy the attention of the garrison so that a comrade might leap over the wall and set his foot on the hearth. the object of the garrison was to prevent this. what was that? an exulting cry rang through the night air. a warrior had succeeded in penetrating the hostile citadel untouched and setting his foot on the hearth! two or three times we enjoyed the delight of battle; and when towards midnight it closed, we threw ourselves-glowing from the strife and blackened by the smoke of the hearth-fires-down on the greensward around the women's fire, where boiled eggs and other good things were served, and meanwhile the mugs of foaming beer were passed around the circle. one patriotic song after another was sung, and at last each bergwacht withdrew to its citadel and lay down on the moss to sleep under the sheltering roof. two sentinels marched up and down, relieved every half hour until the early dawn of the summer sunday brightened the eastern sky. then "huup!"--the keilhau shout which summoned us back to the instituterang out, and a hymn, the march back, a bath in the pond, and finally the most delicious rest, if good luck permitted, on the heaps of hay which had not been gathered in. on the sunday following the bergwacht we were not required to attend church, where we should merely have gone to sleep. barop, though usually very strict in the observance of religious duties, never demanded anything for the sake of mere appearances. and the bed of my own planning! it consisted of wood and stones, and was covered with a thick layer of moss, raised at the head in a slanting direction. it looked like other beds, but the place where it stood requires some description, for it was a keilhau specialty, a favour bestowed by our teachers on the pupils. midway up the slope of the kolm where our citadels stood, on the side facing the institute, each boy had a piece of ground where he might build, dig, or plant, as he chose. they descended from one to another: ludo's and mine had come down from martin and another pupil who left the school at the same time. but i was not satisfied with what my predecessors had created. i spared the beautiful vine which twined around a fir-tree, but in the place of a flower-bed and a bench which i found there ludo and i built a hearth, and for myself the bed already mentioned, which my brother of course was permitted to occupy with me. how many hours i have spent on its soft cushions, reading or dreaming or imagining things! if i could only remember them as they hovered before me, what epics and tales i could write! no doubt we ought to be grateful to god for this as well as for so many other blessings; but why are we permitted to be young only once in our lives, only once to be borne aloft on the wings of a tireless power of imagination, so easily satisfied with ourselves, so full of love, faith, and hope, so open to every joy and so blind to every care and doubt, and everything which threatens to cloud and extinguish the sunlight in the soul? dear bed in my plot of ground at keilhau, you ought, in accordance with a remark of barop, to cause me serious self-examination, for he said, probably with no thought of my mossy couch, "from the way in which the pupils use their plots of ground and the things they place in them, i can form a very correct opinion of their dispositions and tastes." but you, beloved couch, should have the best place in my garden if you could restore me but for one half hour the dreams which visited me on your grey-green pillows, when i was a lad of fourteen or fifteen. i have passed over the rudolstadt schutzenfest, its music, its merry-goround, and the capital sausages cooked in the open air, and have intentionally omitted many other delightful things. i cannot help wondering now where we found time for all these summer pleasures. true, with the exception of a few days at whitsuntide, we had no vacation from easter until the first of september. but even in august one thought, one joyous anticipation, filled every heart. the annual autumn excursion was coming! after we were divided into travelling parties and had ascertained which teacher was to accompany us--a matter that seemed very important--we diligently practised the most beautiful songs; and on many an evening barop or middendorf told us of the places through which we were to pass, their history, and the legends which were associated with them. they were aided in this by one of the sub-teachers, bagge, a poetically gifted young clergyman, who possessed great personal beauty and a heart capable of entering into the intellectual life of the boys who were entrusted to his care. he instructed us in the german language and literature. possibly because he thought that he discovered in me a talent for poetic expression, he showed me unusual favor, even read his own verses aloud to me, and set me special tasks in verse-writing, which he criticised with me when i had finished. the first long poem i wrote of my own impulse was a description of the wonderful forms assumed by the stalactite formations in the sophie cave in switzerland, which we had visited. unfortunately, the book containing it is lost, but i remember the following lines, referring to the industrious sprites which i imagined as the sculptors of the wondrous shapes: "priestly robes and a high altar the sprites created here, and in the rock-hewn cauldron poured the holy water clear, within whose depths reflected, by the torches' flickering rays, beneath the surface glimmering my own face met my gaze; and when i thus beheld it, so small it seemed to me, that yonder stone-carved giant looked on with mocking glee. ay, laugh, if that's your pleasure, goliath huge and old, i soon shall fare forth singing, you still your place must hold." another sub-teacher was also a favourite travelling-companion. his name was schaffner, and he, too, with his thick, black beard, was a handsome man. to those pupils who, like my brother ludo, were pursuing the study of the sciences, he, the mathematician of the institute, must have been an unusually clear and competent teacher. i was under his charge only a short time, and his branch of knowledge was unfortunately my weak point. shortly before my departure he married a younger sister of barop's wife, and established an educational institution very similar to keilhau at gumperda, at schwarza in thuringia. herr vodoz, our french teacher, a cheery, vigorous swiss, with a perfect forest of curls on his head, was also one of the most popular guides; and so was dr. budstedt, who gave instruction in the classics. he was not a handsome man, but he deserved the name of "anima candida." he used to storm at the slightest occasion, but he was quickly appeased again. as a teacher i think he did his full duty, but i no longer remember anything about his methods. the travelling party which barop accompanied were very proud of the honour. middendorf's age permitted him to go only with the youngest pupils, who made the shortest trips. these excursions led the little boys into the thuringian forest, the hartz mountains, saxony and bohemia, nuremberg and wurzburg, and the older ones by way of baireuth and regensburg to ulm. the large boys in the first travelling party, which was usually headed by barop himself, extended their journey as far as switzerland. i visited in after-years nearly all the places to which we went at that time, and some, with which important events in my life were associated, i shall mention later. it would not be easy to reproduce from memory the first impressions received without mingling with them more recent ones. thus, i well remember how nuremberg affected me and how much it pleased me. i express this in my description of the journey; but in the author of gred, who often sought this delightful city, and made himself familiar with life there in the days of its mediaval prosperity, these childish impressions became something wholly new. and yet they are inseparable from the conception and contents of the nuremberg novel. my mother kept the old books containing the accounts of these excursions, which occupied from two to three weeks, and they possessed a certain interest for me, principally because they proved how skilfully our teachers understood how to carry out froebel's principles on these occasions. our records of travel also explain in detail what this educator meant by the words "unity with life"; for our attention was directed not only to beautiful views or magnificent works of art and architecture, but to noteworthy public institutions or great manufactories. our teachers took the utmost care that we should understand what we saw. the cultivation of the fields, the building of the peasants' huts, the national costumes, were all brought under our notice, thus making us familiar with life outside of the school, and opening our eyes to things concerning which the pupil of an ordinary model grammar-school rarely inquires, yet which are of great importance to the world to which we belong. our material life was sensibly arranged. during the rest at noon a cold lunch was served, and an abundant hot meal was not enjoyed until evening. in the large cities we dined at good hotels at the table d'hote, and--as in dresden, prague, and coburg--were taken to the theatre. but we often spent the night in the villages, and then chairs were turned upside down, loose straw was spread on the backs and over the floor, and, wrapped in the shawl which almost every boy carried buckled to his knapsack, we slept, only half undressed, as comfortably as in the softest bed. while walking we usually sung songs, among them very nonsensical ones, if only we could keep step well to their time. often one of the teachers told us a story. schaffner and bagge could do this best, but we often met other pedestrians with whom we entered into conversation. how delightful is the memory of these tramps! progress on foot is slow, but not only do we see ten times better than from a carriage or the window of a car, but we hear and learn something while talking with the mechanics, citizens, and peasants who are going the same way, or the landlords, bar-maids, and table companions we meet in the taverns, whose guests live according to the custom of the country instead of the international pattern of our great hotels. as a young married man, i always anticipated as the greatest future happiness taking pedestrian tours with my sons like the keilhau ones; but fate ordained otherwise. on our return to the institute we were received with great rejoicing; and how much the different parties, now united, had to tell one another! study recommenced on the first of october, and during the leisure days before that time the village church festival was celebrated under the village linden, with plenty of cakes, and a dance of the peasants, in which we older ones took part. but we were obliged to devote several hours of every day to describing our journey for our relatives at home. each one filled a large book, which was to be neatly written. the exercise afforded better practice in describing personal experiences than a dozen essays which had been previously read with the teacher. chapter xvi. autumn, winter, easter and departure autumn had come, and this season of the year, which afterwards was to be the most fraught with suffering, at that time seemed perhaps the pleasantest; for none afforded a better opportunity for wrestling and playing. it brought delicious fruit, and never was the fire lighted more frequently on the hearth in the plots of ground assigned to the pupils-baking and boiling were pleasant during the cool afternoons. no month seemed to us so cheery as october. during its course the apples and pears were gathered, and an old privilege allowed the pupils "to glean"--that is, to claim the fruit left on the trees. this tested the keenness of our young eyes, but it sometimes happened that we confounded trees still untouched with those which had been harvested. "nitimur in vetitum semper cupimusque negata,"--[the forbidden charms, and the unexpected lures us.]--is an excellent saying of ovid, whose truth, when he tested it in person, was the cause of his exile. it sometimes brought us into conflict with the owners of the trees, and it was only natural that "froebel's youngsters" often excited the peasants' ire. gellert, it is true, has sung: "enjoy what the lord has granted, grieve not for aught withheld." but the popular saying is, "forbidden fruit tastes sweetest," and the proverb was right in regard to us keilhau boys. whatever fruit is meant in the story related in genesis of the fall of man, none could make it clearer to german children than the apple. the keilhau ones were kept in a cellar, and through the opening we thrust a pole to which the blade of a rapier was fastened. this sometimes brought us up four or five apples at once, which hung on the blade like the flock of ducks that baron munchausen's musket pierced with the ramrod. we were all honest boys, yet not one, not even the sons of the heads of the institute, ever thought of blaming or checking the zest for this appropriation of other people's property. the apple and morality must stand in a very peculiar relation to each other. scarcely was the last fruit gathered, when other pleasures greeted us. the 18th of october, the anniversary of the battle of leipsic, was celebrated in thuringia by kindling bonfires on the highest mountains, but ours was always the largest and brightest far and wide. while the flames soared heavenward, we enthusiastically sang patriotic songs. the old lutzow jagers, who had fought for the freedom of germany, led the chorus and gazed with tearful eyes at the boys whom they were rearing for the future supporters and champions of their native land. then winter came. snow and ice usually appeared in our mountain valley in the latter half of november. we welcomed them, for winter brought coasting parties down the mountains, skating, snow-balling, the clumsy snow-man, and that most active of mortals, the dancing-master, who not only instructed us in the art of terpsichore, but also gave us rules of decorum which were an abomination to uncle froebel. an opportunity to put them into practice was close at hand, for the 29th of november was barop's birthday, which was celebrated by a little dance after the play. those who took part in the performance were excused from study for several days before, for with the sapper's help we built the stage, and even painted the scenes. the piece was rehearsed till it was absolutely faultless. i took an active part in all these matters during my entire residence at the institute, and we three ebers brothers had the reputation of being among the best actors, though martin far surpassed us. we had invented another variety of theatrical performances which we often enjoyed on winter evenings after supper, unless one of the teachers read aloud to us, or we boys performed the classic dramas. while i was one of the younger pupils, we used the large and complete puppet-show which belonged to the institute; but afterwards we preferred to act ourselves, and arranged the performance according to a plan of our own. one of us who had seen a play during the vacation at home told the others the plot. the whole was divided into scenes, and each character was assigned to some representative who was left to personate it according to his own conception, choosing the words and gestures which he deemed most appropriate. i enjoyed nothing more than these performances; and my mother, who witnessed several of them during one of her visits, afterwards said that it was surprising how well we had managed the affair and acted our parts. for a long time i was the moving spirit in this play, and we had no lack of talented mimes, personators of sentimental heroes, and droll comedians. the women's parts, of course, were also taken by boys. ludo made a wonderfully pretty girl. i was sometimes one thing, sometimes another, but almost always stage manager. these merry improvisations were certainly well fitted to strengthen the creative power and activity of our intellects. there was no lack of admirable stage properties, for the large wardrobe of the institute was at our disposal whenever we wanted to act, which was at least once a week during the whole winter, except in the advent season, when everything was obliged to yield to the demand of the approaching christmas festival. then we were all busy in making presents for our relatives. the younger ones manufactured various cardboard trifles; the older pupils, as embryo cabinet-makers, all sorts of pretty and useful things, especially boxes. unluckily, i did not excel as a cabinet-maker, though i managed to finish tolerable boxes; but my mother had two made by the more skilful hands of ludo, which were provided with locks and hinges, so neatly finished, veneered, and polished that many a trained cabinet-maker's apprentice could have done no better. it was one of froebel's principles--as i have already mentioned--to follow the "german taste for manual labor," and have us work with spades and pickaxes (in our plots of ground), and with squares, chisels, and saws (in the pasteboard and carving lessons). a clever elderly man, the sapper, or sabuim, already mentioned--i think i never heard his real name--instructed us in the trades of the book binder and cabinet-maker. he was said to have served under napoleon as a sapper, and afterwards settled in our neighbourhood, and found occupation in keilhau. he was skilful in all kinds of manual labour, and an excellent teacher. the nearer christmas came the busier were the workshops; and while usually there was no noise, they now resounded with christmas songs, among which: "up, up, my lads! why do ye sleep so long? the night has passed, and day begins to dawn"; or our berlin one: "something will happen to-morrow, my children," were most frequently heard. christmas thoughts filled our hearts and minds. christmas at home had been so delightful that the first year i felt troubled by the idea that the festival must be celebrated away from my mother and without her. but after we had shared the keilhau holiday, and what preceded and followed it, we could not decide which was the most enjoyable. once our mother was present, though the cause of her coming was not exactly a joyous one. about a week before the christmas of my third year at keilhau i went to the hayloft at dusk, and while scuffling with a companion the hay slipped with us and we both fell to the barn-floor. my school-mate sustained an internal injury, while i escaped with the fracture of two bones, fortunately only of the left arm. the severe suffering which has darkened so large a portion of my life has been attributed to this fracture, but the idea is probably incorrect; otherwise the consequences would have appeared earlier. at first the arm was very painful; yet the thought of having lost the christmas pleasures was almost worse. but the experience that the days from which we expect least often afford us most happiness was again verified. barop had thought it his duty to inform my mother of this serious accident, and two or three days later she arrived. though i could not play out of doors with the others, there was enough to enjoy in the house with her and some of my comrades. every incident of that christmas has remained in my memory, and, though fate should grant me many more years of life, i would never forget them. first came the suspense and excitement when the wagon from rudolstadt filled with boxes drove into the court-yard, and then the watching for those which might be meant for us. on christmas eve, when at home the bell summoned us to the christmas-tree the delight of anticipation reached its climax, and expressed itself in song, in gayer talk, and now and then some harmless scuffle. then we went to bed, with the firm resolve of waking early; but the sleep of youth is sounder than any resolution, and suddenly unwonted sounds roused us, perhaps from the dreams of the manger at bethlehem and the radiant christmas-tree. was it the voice of the angels which appeared to the shepherds? the melody was a christmas choral played by the rudolstadt band, which had been summoned to waken us thus pleasantly. never did we leave our beds more quickly than in the darkness of that early morning, illuminated as usual only by a tallow dip. rarely was the process of washing more speedily accomplished--in winter we were often obliged to break a crust of ice which had formed over the water; but this time haste was useless, for no one was admitted into the great hall before the signal was given. at last it sounded, and when we had pressed through the wide-open doors, what splendours greeted our enraptured eyes and ears! the whole room was most elaborately decorated with garlands of pine. wherever the light entered the windows we saw transparencies representing biblical christmas scenes. christmas-trees--splendid firs of stately height and size, which two days before were the ornaments of the forestglittered in the light of the candles, which was reflected from the ruddy cheeks of the apples and the gilded and silvered nuts. meanwhile the air, "o night so calm, so holy!" floated from the instruments of the musicians. scarcely had we taken our places when a chorus of many voices singing the angel's greeting, "glory to god in the highest, peace on earth," recalled to our happy hearts the sacredness of the morning. violins and horns blended with the voices; then, before even the most excited could feel the least emotion of impatience, the music ceased. barop stepped forward, and in the deep, earnest tones peculiar to him exclaimed, "now see what pleasures the love of your friends has prepared for you!" the devout, ennobling feelings which had inspired every heart were scattered to the four winds; we dispersed like a flock of doves threatened by a hawk, and the search for the places marked by a label began. one had already seen his name; a near-sighted fellow went searching from table to table; and here and there one boy called to another to point out what his sharp eyes had detected. on every table stood a stolle, the saxon christmas bread called in keilhau schuttchen, and a large plate of nuts and cakes, the gift of the institute. beside these, either on the tables or the floor, were the boxes from home. they were already opened, but the unpacking was left to us--a wise thing; for what pleasure it afforded us to take out the various gifts, unwrap them, admire, examine, and show them to others! those were happy days, for we saw only joyous faces, and our own hearts had room for no other feelings than the heaven-born sisters love, joy, and gratitude. we entered with fresh zeal upon the season of work which followed. it was the hardest of the twelve months, for it carried us to easter, the close of the school year, and was interrupted only by the carnival with its merry masquerade. all sorts of examinations closed the term of instruction. on palm sunday the confirmation services took place, which were attended by the parents of many of the pupils, and in which the whole institute shared. then came the vacation. it lasted three weeks, and was the only time we were allowed to return home. and what varied pleasures awaited us there! martha, whom we left a young lady of seventeen, remained unaltered in her charming, gentle grace, but paula changed every year. one easter we found the plump school-girl transformed into a slender young lady. the next vacation she had been confirmed, wore long dresses, had lost every trace of boyishness, even rarely showed any touch of her former drollery. she did not care to go to the theatre, of which martha was very fond, unless serious dramas were performed. we, on the contrary, liked farces. i still remember a political quip which was frequently repeated at the konigstadt theatre, and whose point was a jeer at the aspirations of the revolution: "property is theft, or a dream of a red republican." we were in the midst of the reaction and those who had fought at the barricades on the 18th of march applauded when the couplet was sung, of which i remember these lines: "ah! what bliss is the aspiration to dangle from a lamp-post as a martyr for the nation!" during these vacations politics was naturally a matter of utter indifference to us, and toward their close we usually paid a visit to my grandmother and aunt in dresden. so the years passed till easter (1852) came, and with it our confirmation and my separation from ludo, who was to follow a different career. we had double instruction in confirmation, first with the village boys from the pastor of eichfeld, and afterwards from middendorf at the institute. unfortunately, i have entirely forgotten what the eichfeld clergyman taught us, but middendorf's lessons made all the deeper impression. he led us through life to god and the saviour, and thence back again to life. how often, after one of these lessons, silence reigned, and teachers and pupils rose from their seats with tearful eyes! afterwards i learned from a book which had been kept that what he gave us had been drawn chiefly from the rich experiences of his own life and the gospels, supplemented by the writings of his favourite teacher, schleiermacher. by contemplation, the consideration of the universe with the soul rather than with the mind, we should enter into close relations with god and become conscious of our dependence upon him, and this consciousness middendorf with his teacher schleiermacher called "religion." but the old lutzow jager, who in the year 1813 had taken up arms at the berlin university, had also sat at the feet of fichte, and therefore crowned his system by declaring, like the latter, that religion was not feeling but perception. whoever attained this, arrived at a clear understanding of his own ego (middendorf's mental understanding of life), perfect harmony with himself and the true sanctification of his soul. this man who, according to our middendorf, is the really religious human being, will be in harmony with god and nature, and find an answer to the highest of all questions. froebel's declaration that he had found "the unity of life," which had brought middendorf to keilhau, probably referred to fichte. the phrase had doubtless frequently been used by them in conversations about this philosopher, and neither needed an explanation, since fichte's opinions were familiar to both. we candidates for confirmation at that time knew the berlin philosopher only by name, and sentences like "unity with one's self," "to grasp and fulfil," "inward purity of life," etc., which every one who was taught by middendorf must remember, at first seemed perplexing; but our teacher, who considered it of the utmost importance to be understood, and whose purpose was not to give us mere words, but to enrich our souls with possessions that would last all our lives, did not cease his explanations until even the least gifted understood their real meaning. this natural, childlike old man never lectured; he was only a pedagogue in the sense of the ancients--that is, a guide of boys. though precepts tinctured by philosophy mingled with his teachings, they only served as points of departure for statements which came to him from the soul and found their way to it. he possessed a comprehensive knowledge of the religions of all nations, and described each with equal love and an endeavour to show us all their merits. i remember how warmly he praised confucius's command not to love our fellow-men but to respect them, and how sensible and beautiful it seemed to me, too, in those days. he lingered longest on buddhism; and it surprises me now to discover how well, with the aids then at his command, he understood the touching charity of buddha and the deep wisdom and grandeur of his doctrine. but he showed us the other religions mainly to place christianity and its renewing and redeeming power in a brighter light. the former served, as it were, for a foil to the picture of our saviour's religion and character, which he desired to imprint upon the soul. whether he succeeded in bringing us into complete "unity" with the personality of christ, to which he stood in such close relations, is doubtful, but he certainly taught us to understand and love him; and this love, though i have also listened to the views of those who attribute the creation and life of the world to mechanical causes, and believe the deity to be a product of the human intellect, has never grown cold up to the present day. the code of ethics which middendorf taught was very simple. his motto, as i have said, was, "true, pure, and upright in life." he might have added, "and with a heart full of love"; for this was what distinguished him from so many, what made him a christian in the most beautiful sense of the word, and he neglected nothing to render our young hearts an abiding-place for this love. of course, our mother came to attend our confirmation, which first took place with the peasant boys--who all wore sprigs of lavender in their button-holes--in the village church at eichfeld, and then, with middendorf officiating, in the hall of the institute at keilhau. few boys ever approached the communion-table for the first time in a more devout mood, or with hearts more open to all good things, than did we two brothers that day on our mother's right and left hand. no matter how much i may have erred, middendorf's teachings and counsels have not been wholly lost in any stage of my career. after the confirmation i went away with my mother and ludo for the vacation, and three weeks later i returned to the institute without my brother. i missed him everywhere. his greater discretion had kept me from many a folly, and my need of loving some one found satisfaction in him. besides, his mere presence was a perpetual reminder of my mother. keilhau was no longer what it had been. new scenes always seem desirable to young people, and for the first time i longed to go away, though i knew nothing of my destination except that it would be a gymnasium. yet i loved the institute and its teachers, though i did not realize until later how great was my debt of gratitude. here, and by them, the foundation of my whole future life was laid, and if i sometimes felt it reel under my feet, the froebel method was not in fault. the institute could not dismiss us as finished men; the desired "unity with life" can be attained only upon its stage--the world--in the motley throng of fellow-men, but minds and bodies were carefully trained according to their individual peculiarities, and i might consider myself capable of receiving higher lessons. true, my character was not yet steeled sufficiently to resist every temptation, but i no longer need fear the danger of crossing the barrier which froebel set for men "worthy" in his sense. my acquirements were deficient in many respects what the french term "justesse d'esprit" had to a certain degree become mine, as in the case of every keilhau boy, through our system of education. though i could not boast of "being one with nature," we had formed a friendly alliance, and i learned by my own experience the truth of goethe's words, that it was the only book which offers valuable contents on every page. i was not yet familiar with life, but i had learned to look about with open eyes. i had not become a master in any handicraft, but i had learned with paste-pot and knife, saw, plane, and chisel--nay, even axe and handspike-what manual labour meant and how to use my hands. i had by no means attained to union with god, but i had acquired the ability and desire to recognize his government in nature as well as in life; for middendorf had understood how to lead us into a genuine filial relation with him and awaken in our young hearts love for him who kindles in the hearts of men the pure flame of love for their neighbours. the greek words which langethal wrote in my album, and which mean "be truthful in love," were beginning to be as natural to me as abhorrence of cowardice and falsehood had long been. love for our native land was imprinted indelibly on my soul, and lives there joyously, ready to sacrifice for the freedom and greatness of germany even what i hold dearest. etext editor's bookmarks: a word at the right time and place confucius's command not to love our fellow-men but to respect this ebook was produced by david widger <widger@cecomet.net> [note: there is a short list of bookmarks, or pointers, at the end of the file for those who may wish to sample the author's ideas before making an entire meal of them. d.w.] the emperor, part 2. by georg ebers volume 6. chapter i. dame hannah had watched by selene till sunrise and indefatigably cooled both her injured foot and the wound in her head. the old physician was not dissatisfied with the condition of his patient, but ordered the widow to lie down for a time and to leave the care of her for a few hours to her young friend. when mary was alone with the sick girl and had laid the fresh cold handkerchief in its place, selene turned her face towards her and said: "then you were at lochias yesterday. tell me how you found them all there. who guided you to our lodgings and did you see my little brother and sisters?" "you are not yet quite free of fever, and i do not know how much i ought to talk to you--but i would with all my heart." the words were spoken kindly and there was a deep loving light in the eyes of the deformed girl as she said them. selene excited not merely her sympathy and pity, but her admiration too, for she was so beautiful, so totally different from herself, and in every little service she rendered her, she felt like some despised beggar whom a prince might have permitted to wait upon him. her hump had never seemed to her so bent, nor her brown skin so ugly at any other time as it did to-day, when side by side with this symmetrical and delicate girlish form, rounded to such tender contours. but mary felt not the smallest movement of envy. she only felt happy to help selene, to serve her, to be allowed to gaze at her although she was a heathen. during the night too, she had prayed fervently that the lord might graciously draw to himself this lovely, gentle creature, that he might permit her to recover, and fill her soul with the same love for the saviour that gave joy to her own. more than once she had longed to kiss her, but she dared not, for it seemed to her as though the sick girl were made of finer stuff than she herself. selene felt tired, very tired, and as the pain diminished, a comfortable sense stole over her of peace and respite in the silent and loving homeliness of her surroundings; a feeling that was new and very soothing, though it was interrupted, now and again, by her anxiety for those at home. dame hannah's presence did her good, for she fancied she recognized in her voice something that had been peculiar to her mother's, when she had played with her and pressed her with special affection to her heart. in the papyrus factory, at the gumming-table, the sight of the little hunchback had disgusted selene, but here she observed what good eyes she had, and how kind a voice, and the care with which mary lifted the compress from her foot--as softly, as if in her own hands she felt the pain that selene was suffering--and then laid another on the broken ankle, aroused her gratitude. her sister arsinoe was a vain and thorough alexandrian girl, and she had nicknamed the poor thing after the ugliest of the hellenes who had besieged troy. "dame thersites," and selene herself had often repeated it. now she forgot the insulting name altogether, and met the objections of her nurse by saying: "the fever cannot be much now; if you tell me something i shall not think so constantly of this atrocious pain. i am longing to be at home. did you see the children?" "no, selene. i went no farther than the entrance of your dwelling, and the kind gate-keeper's wife told me at once that i should find neither your father nor your sister, and that your slave-woman was gone out to buy cakes for the children." "to buy them!" exclaimed selene in astonishment. "the old woman told me too that the way to your apartments led through several rooms in which slaves were at work, and that her son, who happened to be with her, should accompany me, and so he did, but the door was locked, and he told me i might entrust his mother with my commission. i did so, for she looked as if she were both judicious and kind." "that she is." "and she is very fond of you, for when i told her of your sufferings the bright tears rolled down her cheeks, and she praised you as warmly, and was as much troubled as if you had been her own daughter." "you said nothing about our working in the factory?" asked selene anxiously. "certainly not, you had desired me not to mention it. i was to say everything that was kind to you from the old lady." for several minutes the two girls were silent, then selene asked: "did the gate-keeper's son who accompanied you also hear of the disaster that had befallen me? "yes, on the way to your rooms he was full of fun and jokes, but when i told him that you had gone out with your damaged foot and now could not get home again, and were being treated by the leech, he was very angry and used blasphemous language." "can you remember what he said?" "not perfectly, but one thing i still recollect. he accused his gods of having created a beautiful work only to spoil it, nay he abused them" mary looked down as she spoke, as if she were repeating something ill to tell, but selene colored slightly with pleasure, and exclaimed eagerly, as if to outdo the sculptor in abuse: "he is quite right, the powers above act in such a way--" "that is not right," said the deformed girl reprovingly. "what?" asked the patient. "here you live quietly to yourselves in perfect peace and love. many a word that i heard dame hannah say has stuck in my mind, and i can see for myself that you act as kindly as you speak. the gods no doubt are good to you!" "god is for each and all." "what!" exclaimed selene with flashing eyes. "for those whose every pleasure they destroy? for the home of eight children whom they rob of their mother? for the poor whom they daily threaten to deprive of their bread-winner?" "for them too, there is a merciful god," interrupted dame hannah who had just come into the room. "i will lead you to the loving father in heaven who cares for us all as if we were his children; but not now--you must rest and neither talk nor hear of anything that can excite your fevered blood. now i will rearrange the pillow under your head. mary will wet a fresh compress and then you must try to sleep." "i cannot," replied selene, while hannah shook her pillows and arranged them carefully. "tell me about your god who loves us." "by-and-bye, dear child. seek him and you will find him, for of all his children he loves them best who suffer." "those who suffer?" asked selene, in surprise. "what has a god in his olympian joys to do with those who suffer?" "be quiet, child," interrupted hannah, patting the sick girl with a soothing hand, "you soon will learn how god takes care of you and that another loves you." "another," muttered selene, and her cheeks turned crimson. she thought at once of pollux, and asked herself why the story of her sufferings should have moved him so deeply if he were not in love with her. then she began to seek some colorable ground for what she had heard as she went past the screen behind which he had been working. he had never told her plainly that he loved her. why should he, an artist and a bright, high spirited young fellow, not be allowed to jest with a pretty girl, even if his heart belonged to another. no, she was not indifferent to him: that she had felt that night when she had stood as his model, and now--as she thought--i could guess, nay, feel sure of, from mary's story. the longer she thought of him, the more she began to long to see him whom she had loved so dearly even as a child. her heart had never yet beat for any other man, but since she had met pollux again in the hall of the muses, his image had filled her whole soul, and what she now felt must be love--could be nothing else. half awake, but half asleep, she pictured him to herself, entering this quiet room, sitting down by the head of her couch, and looking with his kind eyes into hers. ah! and how could she help it--she sat up and opened her arms to him. "be still, my child, he still," said hannah. "it is not good for you to move about so much." selene opened her eyes, but only to close them again and to dream for some time longer till she was startled from her rest by loud voices in the garden. hannah left the room, and her voice presently mingled with those of the other persons outside, and when she returned her cheeks were flushed and she could not find fitting words in which to tell her patient what she had to say. "a very big man, in the most outrageous dress," she said at last, "wanted to be let in; when the gatekeeper refused, he forced his way in. he asked for you." "for me," said selene, blushing. "yes, my child, he brought a large and beautiful nosegay of flowers, and said 'your friend at lochias sends you his greeting.'" "my friend at lochias?" murmured thoughtfully selene to herself. then her eyes sparkled with gladness, and she asked quickly: you said the man who brought the flowers was very tall." "he was." "oh please, dame hannah, let me see the flowers?" cried selene, trying to raise herself. "have you a lover, child?" asked the widow. "a lover?--no, but there is a young man with whom we always used to play when we were quite little--an artist, a kind, good man--and the nosegay must be from him." hannah looked with sympathy at the girl, and signing to mary she said: "the nosegay is a very large one. you may see it, but it must not remain in the room; the smell of so many flowers might do you harm." mary rose from her seat at the head of the bed, and whispered to the sick girl: "is that the tall gate-keeper's son?" selene nodded, smiling, and as the women went away she changed her position from lying on one side, stretched herself out on her back, pressed her hand to her heart, and looked upwards with a deep sigh. there was a singing in her ears, and flashes of colored light seemed to dance before her closed eyes. she drew her breath with difficulty, but still it seemed as though the air she drew in was full of the perfume of flowers. hannah and mary carried in the enormous bunch of flowers. selene's eyes shone more brightly, and she clasped her hands in admiration. then she made them show her the lovely, richly-tinted and fragrant gift, first on one side and then on the other, buried her face in the flowers, and secretly kissed the delicate petals of a lovely, half-opened rose-bud. she felt as if intoxicated, and the bright tears flowed in slow succession down her cheeks. mary was the first to detect the brooch stuck into the ribbons that tied the stems of the flowers. she unfastened it and showed it to selene, who hastily took it out of her hand. blushing deeper and deeper, she fixed her eyes on the intaglio carved on the stone of the love god sharpening his arrows. she felt her pain no more pain, she felt quite well, and at the same time glad, proud, too happy. dame hannah noted her excitement with much anxiety; she nodded to mary and said: "now my daughter, this must do; we will place the flowers outside the window so that you may see them." "already," said selene, in a regretful tone, and she broke off a few violets and roses from the crowded mass. when she was alone again, she laid the flowers down and once more tenderly contemplated the figures on the handsome gem. it had no doubt been engraved by teuker, the brother of pollux. how fine the carving was, how significant the choice of the subject represented! only the heavy gold setting disturbed the poor child, who for so many years had had to stint and contrive with her money. she said to herself that it was wrong of the young fellow, who, besides being poor, had to support his sister, to rush into such an outlay for her. but his gift gave her none the less pleasure, out of her own possessions nothing would have seemed too precious to give him. she would teach him to be saving by-and-bye. the women presently returned after they had with much trouble set up the nosegay outside the window, and they renewed the wet handkerchief without speaking. she did not in the least want to talk, she was listening with so much pleasure to the fair promises which her fancy was making, and wherever she turned her eyes they fell on something she could love, the flowers on her bed, the brooch in her hand, the nosegay outside the window, and never dreaming that another--not the man she loved--could have sent it to her, another for whom she cared even less than for the christians who walked up and down in paulina's garden, under her window. there she lay, full of sweet contentment and secure of a love that had never been hers--of possessing the heart of a man who never once thought of her, but who, only a few hours since, had rushed off with her sister, intoxicated with joy and delight. poor selene! and her next dreams were of untroubled happiness, but the minutes flew after each other, each bringing her nearer to waking--and what a waking! her father had not come, as he had intended, to see her before going to the prefect's house with arsinoe. his desire to conduct his daughter to julia in a dress worthy of her prospects had detained him a long time, and even then he had not succeeded in his object. all the weavers, and the shops were closed, for every workman, whether slave or free, was taking part in the festivities, and when the hour fixed by the prefect drew near, his daughter was still sitting in her litter, in her simple white dress and her modest peplum, bound with blue ribbon, which looked even more insignificant by day than in the evening. the nosegay which had been given to arsinoe by verus gave her much pleasure, for a girl is always pleased with beautiful flowers--nay, they have something in common. as she and her father approached the prefect's house arsinoe grew frightened, and her father could not conceal his vexation at being obliged to take her to the lady julia in so modest a garb. nor was his gloomy humor at all enlivened when he was left to wait in the anteroom while julia and the wife of verus, aided by balbilla chose for his daughter the finest colored and costliest stuffs of the softest wool, silk, and delicate bombyx tissue. this sort of occupation has this peculiarity, that the longer time it takes the more assistance is needed, and the steward had to submit to wait fully two hours in the prefect's anteroom, which gradually grew fuller and fuller of clients and visitors. at last arsinoe came back all glowing and full of the beautiful things that were to be prepared for her. her father rose slowly from his easy seat, and as she hastened towards him the door opened, and through it came plutarch, freshly wreathed, freshly decked with flowers which were fastened to the breast-folds of his gallium, and lifted into the room by his two human crutches. every one rose as he came in, and when keraunus saw that the chief lawyer of the city, a man of ancient family, bowed before him, he did likewise. plutarch's eyesight was stronger than his legs were, and where a pretty woman was to be seen, it was always very keen. he perceived arsinoe as soon as he had crossed the threshold and waved both hands towards her, as if she were an old and favorite acquaintance. the sweet child had quite bewitched him; in his younger days he would have given anything and everything to win her favor; now he was satisfied to make his favor pleasing to her; he touched her playfully two or three times on the arm and said gaily: "well pretty roxana, has dame julia done well with the dresses?" "oh! they have chosen such pretty, such really lovely things!" exclaimed the girl." "have they?" said plutarch, to conceal by speech the fact that he was meditating on some subject; "have they? and why should they not?" arsinoe's washed dress had caught the old man's eye, and remembering that gabinius the curiosity-dealer had that very morning been to him to enquire whether arsinoe were not in fact one of his work-girls, and to repeat his statement that her father was a beggarly toady, full of haughty airs, whose curiosities, of which he contemptuously mentioned a few, were worth nothing, plutarch was hastily asking himself how he could best defend his pretty protege against the envious tongues of her rivals; for many spiteful speeches of theirs had already come to his ears. "whatever the noble julia undertakes is always admirably done," he said aloud, and he added in a whisper: "the day after to-morrow when the goldsmiths have opened their workshops again, i will see what i can find for you. i am falling in a heap, hold me up higher antaeus and atlas. so.--yes, my child you look even better from up here than from a lower level. is the stout man standing behind you your father?" "yes." "have you no mother?" "she is dead." "oh!" said plutarch in a tone of regret. then turning to the steward he said: "accept my congratulations on having such a daughter keraunus. i hear too that you have to supply a mother's place to her." "alas sir! she is very like my poor wife, since her death i live a joyless life." "but i hear that you take pleasure in collecting rare and beautiful objects. this is a taste we have in common. are you inclined to part with the cup that belonged to my namesake plutarch? it must be a fine piece of work from what gabinius tells me." "that it is," replied the steward proudly. "it was a gift to the philosopher from trajan; beautifully carved in ivory. i cannot bear to part with such a gem but," and as he spoke he lowered his voice. "i am under obligations to you, you have taken charge of my daughter's outfit and to offer you some return i will--" "that is quite out of the question," interrupted plutarch, who knew men, and who saw from the steward's pompous pretentiousness that the dealer had done him no injustice in describing him as overbearing. "you are doing me an honor by allowing me to contribute what i can towards decorating our roxana. i beg you to send me the cup, and whatever price you put upon it, i, of course, shall pay, that is quite understood." keraunus had a brief internal conflict with himself. if he had not so sorely needed money, if he had not so keenly desired to see a young and comely slave walking behind him, he would have adhered to his purpose of presenting the cup to plutarch; as it was he cleared his throat, looked at the ground, and said with an embarrassed manner and without a trace of his former confidence: "i remain your debtor, and it seems you do not wish this business to be mixed up with other matters. well then, i had two thousand drachmae for a sword that belonged to antony." "then certainly," interrupted plutarch, "the cup, the gift of trajan, must be worth double, particularly to me who am related to the illustrious owner. may i offer you four thousand drachmae for your precious possession?" "i am anxious to oblige you, and so i say yes," replied the steward with much dignity, and he squeezed arsinoe's little finger, for she was standing close to him. her hand had for some time been touching his in token of warning that he should adhere to his first intention of making the cup a present to plutarch. as the pair, so unlike each other, quitted the anteroom, plutarch looked after them with a meaning smile and thought to himself: "that is well done. how little pleasure i generally have from my riches! how often when i see a sturdy porter i would willingly change places with him! but to-day i am glad to have as much money as i could wish. sweet child! she must have a new dress of course for the sake of appearance, but really her beauty did not suffer from the washed-out rag of a dress. and she belongs to me, for i have seen her at the factory among the workwomen, of that i am certain." keraunus had gone out with his daughter and once outside the prefect's house, he could not help chuckling aloud, while he patted his daughter on the shoulder, and whispered to her: "i told you so child! we shall be rich yet, we shall rise in life again and need not be behind the other citizens in any thing." "yes, father, but it is just because you believe that, that you ought to have given the cup to the old man." "no," replied keraunus, "business is business, but by and bye i will repay him tenfold for all he does for you now, by giving him my painting by apelles. and julia shall have the pair of sandal-straps set with cutgems that came off a sandal of cleopatra's." arsinoe looked down, for she knew what these treasures were worth, and said: "we can consider all that later." then she and her father got into the litters that had been waiting for them, and without which keraunus thought he could no longer exist, and they were carried to the garden of pudeus' widow. their visit came to interrupt selene's blissful dreams. keraunus behaved with icy coldness to dame hannah, for it afforded him a certain satisfaction to make a display of contempt for every thing christian. when he expressed his regret that selene should have been obliged to remain in her house, the widow replied: "she is better here than in the street, at any rate." and when keraunus went on to say that he would take nothing as a gift and would pay her for her care of his daughter, hannah answered: "we are happy to do all we can for your child, and another will reward us." "that i certainly forbid," exclaimed the steward wrathfully. "we do not understand each other," said the christian pleasantly. "i do not allude to any mortal being, and the reward we work for is not gold and possessions, but the happy consciousness of having mitigated the sufferings of a fellow-creature." keraunus shrugged his shoulders, and after desiring selene to ask the physician when she might be taken home, he went away. "i will not leave you here an instant longer than is necessary," he said as urgently as though she were in some infected house; he kissed her forehead, bowed to hannah as loftily as though he had just bestowed an alms upon her, and departed, without listening to selene's assurances that she was extremely happy and comfortable with the widow. the ground had long burnt under his feet, and the money in his pocket, he was now possessed of ample means to acquire a good new slave, perhaps, if he threw old sebek into the bargain, they might even suffice to procure him a handsome greek, who might teach the children to read and write. he could direct his first attention to the external appearance of the new member of his household, if he were a scholar as well, he would feel justified in the high price he expected to be obliged to pay for him. as keraunus approached the slave-market he said, not without some conscious emotion at his own paternal devotion: "all for the credit of the house, all, and only, for the children." arsinoe carried out her intention of staying with selene; her father was to fetch her on his way home. after he was gone, hannah and mary left the two sisters together, for they supposed that they must wish to discuss a variety of things without the presence of strangers. as soon as the girls were alone arsinoe began: "your cheeks are rosy, selene, and you look cheerful--ah! and i, i am so happy--so happy!" "because you are to fill the part of roxana?" "that is very nice too, and who would have thought only yesterday morning that we should be so rich today. we hardly know what to do with all the money." "we?" "yes, for father has sold two objects out of his collection for six thousand drachmae." "oh!" cried selene clasping her hands, "then we can pay our most pressing debts." "to be sure, but that is not nearly all." "no?" "where shall i begin? ah! selene, my heart is so full. i am tired, and yet i could dance and sing and shout all day and all the night through till to-morrow. when i think how happy i am, my head turns, and i feel as if i must use all my self-control to keep myself from turning giddy. you do not know yet how you feel when the arrow of eros has pierced you. ah! i love pollux so much, and he loves me too." at these words all the color fled from selene's cheeks, and her pale lips brought out the words: "pollux? the son of euphorion, pollux the sculptor?" "yes, our dear, kind, tall pollux!" cried arsinoe. "now prick up your ears, and you shall hear how it all came to pass. last night on our way to see you he confessed how much he loved me, and now you must advise me how to win over my father to our side, and very soon too. by-and-bye he will of course say yes, for pollux can do anything he wants, and some day he will be a great man, as great as papias, and aristaeus, and kealkes all put together. his youthful trick with that silly caricature--but how pale you are, selene!" "it is nothing--nothing at all--a pain--go on," said selene. "dame hannah begged me not to let you talk much." "only tell me everything; i will be quiet." "well, you have seen the lovely head of mother that he made," arsinoe went on. "standing by that we saw each other and talked for the first time after long years, and i felt directly that there was not a dearer man than he in the whole world, wide as it is. and he fell in love too with a stupid little thing like me. yesterday evening he came here with me; and then as i went home, taking his arm in the dark through the streets, then--oh, selene, it was splendid, delightful! you cannot imagine!--does your foot hurt you very much, poor dear? your eyes are full of tears." "go on, tell me all, go on." and arsinoe did as she was desired, sparing the poor girl nothing that could widen and deepen the wound in her soul. full of rapturous memories she described the place in the streets where pollux had first kissed her. the shrubs in the garden where she had flung herself into his arms, her blissful walk in the moonlight, and all the crowd assembled for the festival, and finally how, possessed by the god, they had together joined the procession, and danced through the streets. she described, with tears in her eyes, how painful their parting had been, and laughed again, as she told how an ivy leaf in her hair had nearly betrayed everything to her father. so she talked and talked, and there was something that intoxicated her in her own words. how they were affecting selene she did not observe. how could she know that it was her narrative and no other suffering which made her sister's lips quiver so sorrowfully? then, when she went on to speak of the splendid garments which julia was having made for her, the suffering girl listened with only half an ear, but her attention revived when she heard how much old plutarch had offered for the ivory cup, and that her father proposed to exchange their old slave for a more active one. "our good black mouse-catching old stork looks shabby enough it is true," said arsinoe, "still i am very sorry he should go away. if you had been at home, perhaps father would have waited to consider." selene laughed drily, and her lips curled scornfully as she said: "that is the way! go on! two days before you are turned out of house and home you ride in a chariot and pair!" "you always see the worst side," said arsinoe with annoyance. "i tell you it will all turn out far better and nicer and more happily than we expect. as soon as we are a little richer we will buy back the old man, and keep him and feed him till he dies." selene shrugged her shoulders, and her sister jumped up from her seat with her eyes full of tears. she had been so happy in telling how happy she was that she firmly believed that her story must bring brightness into the gloom of the sick girl's soul, like sunshine after a dark night; and selene had nothing to give her but scornful words and looks. if a friend refuses to share in joys it is hardly less wounding than if he were to abandon us in trouble. "how you always contrive to embitter my happiness!" cried arsinoe. "i know very well that nothing that i can do can ever be right in your eyes; still, we are sisters, and you need not set your teeth and grudge your words, and shrug your shoulders when i tell you of things which, even a stranger, if i were to confide them to her, would rejoice over with me. you are so cold and heartless! i dare say you will betray me to my father--" but arsinoe did not finish her sentence, for selene looked up at her with a mixture of suffering and alarm, and said: "i cannot be glad--i am in too much pain." as she spoke the tears ran down her cheeks and as soon as arsinoe saw them she felt a return of pity for the sick girl, bent over and kissed her cheeks once, twice, thrice; but selene pushed her aside and murmured piteously: "leave me--pray leave me; go away, i can bear it no longer." she turned her face to the wall, sobbing aloud. arsinoe attempted once more to show her some marks of affection, but her sister pushed her away still more decidedly, crying out loudly, as if in desperation: "i shall die if you do not leave me alone." and the happier girl, whose best offerings were thus disdained by her only female friend, went weeping away to await her father's return outside the door of the widow's house. when hannah went to lay fresh handkerchiefs on selene's wounds she saw that she had been crying, but she did not enquire into the reason of her tears. towards evening the widow explained to her patient that she must leave her alone for half an hour, for that she and mary were going out to pray to their god with their brethren and sisters, and they would pray for her also. "leave me, only leave me," said selene, "as it is, so it is--there are no gods." "gods?" replied hannah. "no. but there is one good and loving father in heaven, and you soon shall learn to know him." "i know him, well!" muttered the sick girl with keen irony. no sooner was she alone than she sat up in bed, and flung the flowers, which had been lying on it, far from her across the room, twisted the pin of the brooch till it was broken, and did not stir a finger to save the gold setting and engraved stone when they fell between the bed and wall of the room. then she lay staring at the ceiling, and did not stir again. it was now quite dark. the lilies and honeysuckle in the great nosegay outside the window began to smell more strongly, and their perfume forced itself inexorably on her senses, rendered painfully acute by fever. she perceived it at every breath she drew, and not for a minute would it let her forget her wrecked happiness, and the wretchedness of her heart, till the heavy sweetness of the flowers became more unendurable than the most pungent odor, and she drew the coverlet over her head to escape this new torment; but she soon cast it off again, for she thought she should be suffocated under it. an intolerable restlessness took possession of her, while the pain in her injured foot throbbed madly, the cut in her head seemed to burn, and her temples beat with an agonizing headache that contracted the muscles of her eyes. every nerve in her body, every thought of her brain was a separate torture, and at the same time she felt herself without a stay, without protection, and wholly abandoned to some cruel influence, which tossed and tore her soul as the storm tosses the crowns of the palm-trees. without tears, incapable of lying still and yet punished for the slightest movement by some fresh pain, racked in every joint, not strong enough in her bewilderment to carry through a single connected thought, and yet firmly convinced that the perfume she was forced to inhale at every breath was poisoning her--destroying her--driving her mad--she lifted her damaged foot out of bed, dragged the other after it, and sat up on her couch regardless of the pain she felt, and the warnings of the physician. her long hair fell dishevelled over her face, her arms, and her hands, in which she held her aching head; and in this new attitude the excitement of her brain and heart took fresh development. she sat gazing at the floor with a freezing gaze, and bitter enmity towards her sister, hatred towards pollux, contempt for her father's miserable weakness, and her own utter blindness, rang wild changes in her soul. outside all lay in peaceful calm, and from the house in which paulina lived the evening breeze now and again bore the pure tones of a pious hymn upon her ear. selene never heeded it, but as the same air wafted the scent of the flowers in her face even stronger than before, she clutched her hair in her fingers and pulled it so violently that she actually groaned with the pain she gave herself. the question as to whether her hair was less abundant and beautiful than her sister's suddenly occurred to her, and like a flash in the darkness the wish shot through her soul that she could fling arsinoe to the ground by the hair, with the hand which was now hurting herself. that perfume! that horrible perfume! she could bear it no longer. she stood up on her uninjured foot, and with very short steps she dragged herself half crying to the window, and flung the nosegay with the great jar of burnt clay down on to the ground. the vessel was broken.--it had cost poor hannah many hardly-saved pieces not long since. selene stood on one foot, leaning, to recover herself, against the right-hand post of the window-opening, and there she could hear more distinctly than from her couch, the voice of the waves as they broke on the stone quay just behind dame hannah's little house. the child of the lochias was familiar with their tones, but the clashing and gurgling of the cool, moist element against the stones had never affected her before as they did now. her fevered blood was on fire, her foot was burning, her head was hot, and hatred seemed to consume her soul as in a slow fire; she felt as if every wave that broke upon the seawall was calling out to her: "i am cool, i am moist, i can extinguish the flame that is consuming you. i can refresh and revive you." what had the world to offer her but new torment and new misery? but the sea--the blue dark sea was wide, and cold, and deep, and its waves promised her in insidious tones to relieve her at once of the rage of her fever, and of the burden of her life. selene did not pause, did not reflect; she remembered neither the children whom she had so long cared for as a mother, nor her father, whose comfort and support she was--vague voices in her brain seemed to be whispering to her that the world was evil and cruel, and the abode of all the torment and care that gnawed at her heart. she felt as if she bad been plunged to the temples in a pool of fire, and, like some poor wretch whose garments have been caught by the flames, she had an instinct to fly to the water, at the bottom of which she might hope to find the fulfilment of her utmost longing, sweet cold death, in which all is forgotten. groaning and tottering she pushed her way through the door into the garden and hobbled down to the sea, grasping her temples in her hands. chapter ii. the alexandrians were a stiff-necked generation. only some phenomenal sight far transcending their every-day experience could avail to make them turn their heads to stare at it, but just now there was something to look at, at every moment and in every street of the city. to-day too each one thought only of himself and of his own pleasure. some particularly pretty, tall, or well-dressed figure would give rise to a smile or an exclamation of approval, but before one sight had been thoroughly enjoyed the inquisitive eye was seeking a fresh one. thus it happened that no one paid any special attention to hadrian and his companions who allowed themselves to be unresistingly carried along the streets by the current of the crowd; and yet each one of them was, in his way, a remarkable object. hadrian was dressed as silenus, pollux as a faun. both wore masks and the disguise of the younger man was as well suited to his pliant and vigorous figure as that of the elder to his powerful stately person. antinous followed his master, dressed as eros. he wore a crimson mantle and was crowned with roses, while the silver quiver on his shoulder and the bow in his hand clearly symbolized the god he was intended to represent. he too wore a mask, but his figure attracted many gazers, and many a greeting of "long live the god of love" or "be gracious to me oh! son of aphrodite" was spoken as he passed. pollux had obtained all the things requisite for these disguises from the store of drapery belonging to his master. papias had been out, but the young man did not deem it necessary to ask his consent, for he and the other assistants had often used the things for similar purposes with his full permission. only as he took the quiver intended for antinous, pollux hesitated a little for it was of solid silver and had been given to his master by the wife of a wealthy cone-dealer, whom he had represented in marble as artemis equipped for the chase. "the roman's handsome companion," thought the young artist as he placed the costly object in with the others in a basket, which a squinting apprentice was to carry behind him--"the roman's handsome companion must be made a splendid eros--and before sunrise the useless thing will be hanging on its hook again." indeed pollux had not much time to admire the splendid appearance of the god of love he had so richly adorned, for the roman architect was possessed by such thirst for knowledge and such inexhaustible curiosity as to the minutest details that even pollux who was born in alexandria, and had grown up there with his eyes very wide open, was often unable to answer his indefatigable questioning. the grey-bearded master wanted to see every thing and to be informed on every subject. not content with making acquaintance with the main streets and squares the public sites and buildings, he peeped into the handsomest of the private houses and asked the names, rank and fortunes of the owners. the decided way in which he told pollux the way he wished to be conducted proved to the artist that he was thoroughly familiar with the plan of the city. and when the sagacious and enlightened man expressed his approval, nay his admiration of the broad clean streets of the town, the handsome open places, and particularly handsome buildings which abounded on all sides, the young alexandrian who was proud of his city was delighted. first hadrian made him lead him along the seashore by the bruchiom to the temple of poseidon, where he performed some devotions, then he looked into the garden of the palace and the courts of the adjoining museum. the caesareum with its egyptian gateway excited his admiration no less than the theatre, surrounded with pillared arcades in stories, and decorated with numerous statues. from thence deviating to the left they once more approached the sea to visit the great emporium, to see the forest of masts of eunostus, and the finely-constructed quays. they left the viaduct known as the heptastadion to their right and the harbor of kibotus, swarming with small merchant craft, did not detain them long. here they turned backs on the sea following a street which led inland through the quarter called khakotis inhabited only by native egyptians, and here the roman found much to see that was noteworthy. first he and his companions met a procession of the priests who serve the gods of the nile valley, carrying reliquaries and sacred vessels, with images of the gods and sacred animals, and tending towards the serapeum which towered high above the streets in the vicinity. hadrian did not visit the temple, but he inspected the chariots which carried people along an inclined road which led up the hill on which was the sanctuary, and watched devotees on foot who mounted by an endless flight of steps constructed on purpose; these grew wider towards the top, terminating in a platform where four mighty pillars bore up a boldly-curved cupola. nothing looked down upon the temple-building which with its halls, galleries and rooms rose behind this huge canopy. the priests with their white robes, the meagre, half-naked egyptians with their pleated aprons and headcloths, the images of beasts and the wonderfully-painted houses in this quarter of the city, particularly attracted hadrian's attention and made him ask many questions, not all of which could pollux answer. their walk which now took them farther and farther from the sea extended to the extreme south of the town and the shores of lake mareotis. nile boats and vessels of every form and size lay at anchor in this deep and sheltered inland sea; here the sculptor pointed out to hadrian the canal through which goods were conveyed to the marine fleet which had been brought down the river to alexandria. and he pointed out to the roman the handsome country-houses and well-tended vineyards on the shores of the lake. "the bodies in this city ought to thrive," said hadrian meditatively. "for here are two stomachs and two mouths by which they absorb nourishment; the sea, i mean, and this lake." "and the harbors in each," added pollux. "just so; but now it is time we should turn about," replied hadrian, and the party soon took a road leading eastward; they walked without pause through the quiet streets inhabited by the christians, and finally through the jews' quarter. in the heart of this quarter many houses were shut up, and there were no signs to be seen of the gay doings which crowded on the sense and fancy in the heathen part of the town, for the stricter among the hebrews held sternly aloof, from the holiday festivities in which most of their nation and creed who dwelt among the greeks, took part. for a third time hadrian and his companions crossed the canopic way which formed the main artery of the city and divided it into the northern and southern halves, for he wished to look down from the hill of the paneum on the combined effect as a whole of all that he had seen in detail. the carefully-kept gardens which surrounded this elevation swarmed with men, and the spiral path which led to the top was crowded with women and children, who came here to see the most splendid spectacle of the whole day, which closed with performances in all the theatres in the town. before the emperor and his escort could reach the paneum itself the crowd suddenly packed more closely and began exclaiming among themselves, "here they come!" "they are early to-day!" "here they are!" lictors with their fasces over their shoulders were clearing the broad roadway, which led from the prefect's on the bruchiom to the paneum, with their staves and paying no heed to the mocking and witty speeches addressed to them by the mob wherever they appeared. one woman, as she was driven back by a roman guardian of the peace, cried scornfully, "give me your rods for my children and do not use them on unoffending citizens." "there is an axe hidden among the faggots," added an egyptian letterwriter in a warning voice. "bring it here," cried a butcher. "i can use it to slaughter my beasts." the romans as they heard these bandied words felt the blood mounting to their faces, but the prefect, who knew his alexandrians well, had counselled them to be deaf; to see everything but to hear nothing. now there appeared a cohort of the twelfth legion, who were quartered in garrison in egypt, in their richest arms and holiday uniforms. behind them came two files of particularly tall lictors wearing wreaths, and they were followed by several hundred wild beasts, leopards and panthers, giraffes, gazelles, antelopes, and deer, all led by dark-colored egyptians. then came a richly-dressed and much be-wreathed dionysian chorus with the sound of tambourines and lyres, double flutes and triangles, and finally, drawn by ten elephants and twenty white horses, a large ship, resting on wheels and gilt from stem to stern, representing the vessel in which the tyrrhenian pirates were said to have carried off the young dionysus when they had seen the black-haired hero on the shore in his purple garments. but the miscreants--so the myth went on to say-were not allowed long to rejoice in their violence, for hardly had the ship reached the open sea when the fetters dropped from the god, vines entwined the sails in sudden luxuriance, tendrils encumbered the oars and rudder, heavy grapes clustered round the ropes, and ivy clung to the mast and shrouded the seats and sides of the vessel. dionysus is equally powerful on sea and on land; in the pirates' ship he assumed the form of a lion, and the pirates, filled with terror, flung themselves into the sea, and in the form of dolphins followed their lost bark. all this titianus had caused to be represented just as the homeric hymns described it, out of slight materials, but richly and elegantly decorated, in order to provide a feast for the eyes of the alexandrians, with the intention of riding in it himself, with his wife and the most illustrious of the romans who formed the empress' suite, to enjoy all the holiday doings in the chief streets of the city. young and old, great and small, men and women, greeks, romans, jews, egyptians, foreigners dark and fair, with smooth hair or crisp wool, crowded with equal eagerness to the edge of the roadway to see the gorgeous boat. hadrian, far more anxious to see the show than his younger but less excitable favorite, pushed into the front rank, and as antinous was trying to follow him, a greek boy, whom he had shoved aside, snatched his mask from his face, threw himself on the ground, and slipped nimbly off with his booty. when hadrian looked round for the bithyman, the ship-in which the prefect was standing between the images of the emperor and empress, while julia, balbilla, and her companion, and other roman lords and ladies were sitting in it--had come quite near to them. his sharp eye had recognized them all, and fearing that the lad's uncovered face would betray them he cried out: "turn round and get into the crowd again." the favorite immediately obeyed, and only too glad to escape from the crowd, which was a thing he detested, he sat down on a bench close to the paneum, and looked dreamily at the ground while he thought of selene and the nosegay he had sent her, neither seeing nor hearing anything of what was going on around him. when the gaudy ship left the gardens of the paneum and turned into the canopic way, the crowd pursued it in a dense mass, hallooing and shouting. like a torrent suddenly swelled by a storm it rushed on, surging and growing at each moment, and carrying with it even those who tried to resist its force. thus even hadrian and pollux were forced to follow in its wake, and it was not till they found themselves in the broad canopic way that they were able to come to a stand-still. the broad roadway of this famous street was bordered on each side by a long vista of colonnade, and it extended from one end of the city to the other. there were hundreds of the corinthian columns which supported the roof that covered the footway, and near to one of these the emperor and pollux succeeded at last in effecting a halt and taking breath. hadrian's first thought was for his favorite, and being averse to venturing himself once more to mix with the crowd, he begged the sculptor to go and seek him and conduct him safely. "will you wait for me here?" asked pollux. "i have known a pleasanter halting place," sighed the emperor. "so have i," answered the artist. "but that tall door there, wreathed round with boughs of poplar and ivy, leads into a cook-shop where the gods themselves might be content to find themselves." "then i will wait there." "but i warn you to eat as much as you can, for the olympian table' as kept by lykortas, the corinthian, is the dearest eating-house in the whole city. none but the richest are his guests." "very good," laughed hadrian. "only find my assistant a new mask and bring him back to me. it will not ruin me quite, even if i pay for a supper for all three of us, and on a holiday one expects to spend something." "i hope you may not live to repent," retorted pollux. "but a long fellow like me is a good trencherman, and can do his part with the wine-jar." "only show me what you can do," cried hadrian after him as pollux hurried off. "i owe you a supper at any rate, for that cabbage stew of your mother's." while pollux went to seek the bithyman in the vicinity of the paneum, the emperor entered the eating house, which the skill of the cook had made the most frequented and fashionable in alexandria. the place in which most of the customers of the house dined, consisted of a large open hall, surrounded by arcades which were roofed in on three of its sides and closed by a wall on its fourth; in these arcades stood couches, on which the guests reclined singly, or in couples, or in larger groups, and ordered the dishes and liquors which the serving slaves, pretty boys with curling hair and hand some dresses, placed before them on low tables. here all was noise and bustle; at one table an epicure devoted himself silently to the enjoyment of some carefully-prepared delicacy, at another a large circle of men seemed to be talking more eagerly than they either eat or drank, and from several of the smaller rooms behind the wall at the back of the hall came sounds of music and song, and the bold laughter of men and women. the emperor asked for a private room, but they were all occupied, and he was requested to wait a little while, for that one of the adjoining. rooms would very soon be vacant. he had taken off his mask, and though he was not particularly afraid of being recognized in his disguise he chose a couch that was screened by a broad pillar in one of the arcades at the inner side of the court, and which, now that evening was beginning to fall was already in obscurity. there he ordered, first some wine and then some oysters to begin, with; while he was eating these he called one of the superintendents and discussed with him the details of the supper he wished presently to be served to himself and his two guests. during this conversation the bustling host came to make his bow to his new customer, and seeing that he had to do with a man fully conversant with all the pleasures of the table, he remained to attend on him, and entered with special zeal into hadrian's various requirements. there was, too, plenty to be seen in the court, which roused the curiosity of the most inquisitive and enquiring man of his time. in the large space enclosed by the arcades, and under the eyes of the guests, on gridirons and hearths, over spits and in ovens the various dishes were prepared which were served up by the slaves. the cooks prepared their savory messes on large, clean tables, and the scene of their labors, which, though enclosed by cords was open to public gaze was surrounded by a small market, where however only the choicest of wares were displayed. here in tempting array was every variety of vegetable reared on greek or egyptian soil; here speckless fruits of every size and hue were set out, and there ready baked, shining, golden-brown pasties were displayed. those containing meat, fish or the mussels of canopus were prepared in alexandria itself, but others containing fruit or the leaves of flowers were brought from arsinoe on the shores of lake moeris, for in that neighborhood the cultivation of fruit and horticulture generally were pursued with the greatest success. meat of all sorts lay or hung in suitable places; there were juicy hams from cyrene, italian sausages and uncooked joints of various slaughtered beasts. by them lay or hung game and poultry in select abundance, and a large part of the court was taken up by a tank in which the choicest of the scaly tribes of the nile, and of the lakes of northern egypt, were swimming about as well as the muraena and other fish of italian breed. alexandrian crabs and the mussels, oysters, and cray-fish of canopus and klysma were kept alive in buckets or jars. the smoked meats of mendes and the neighborhood of lake moeris hung on metal pegs, and in a covered but well-aired room, sheltered from the sun lay freshly-imported fish from the mediterranean and red sea. every guest at the 'olympian table' was allowed here to select the meat, fruit, asparagus, fish, or pasty which he desired to have cooked for him. the host, lykortas, pointed out to hadrian an old gentleman who was busy in the court that was so prettily decorated with still-life, engaged in choosing the raw materials of a banquet he wished to give some friends in the evening of this very day. "it is all very nice and extremely good," said hadrian, "but the gnats and flies which are attracted by all those good things are unendurable, and the strong smell of food spoils my appetite." "it is better in the side-rooms," said the host. "in the one kept for you the company is now preparing to depart. in behind here the sophists demetrius and pancrates are entertaining a few great men from rome, rhetoricians or philosophers or something of the kind. now they are bringing in the fine lamps and they have been sitting and talking at that table ever since breakfast. there come the guests out of the side room. will you take it?" "yes," said hadrian. "and when a tall young man comes to ask for the architect claudius venato, from rome, bring him in to me." "an architect then, and not a sophist or a rhetorician," said mine host, looking keenly at the emperor. "silenus,--a philosopher!" "oh the two vociferous friends there go about even on other days naked and with ragged cloaks thrown over their lean shoulders. to-day they are feeding at the expense of rich josephus." "josephus! he must be a jew and yet he is making a large hole in the ham." "there would be more swine in cyrene if there were no jews; they are greeks like ourselves, and eat everything that is good." hadrian went into the vacant room, lay down on a couch that stood by the wall, and urged the slaves who were busied in removing the dishes and vessels used by his predecessors, and which were swarming with flies. as soon as he was alone he listened to the conversation which was being carried on between favorinus, florus, and their greek guests. he knew the two first very well, and not a word of what they were saying escaped his keen ear. favorinus was praising the alexandrians in a loud voice, but in flowing and elegantly-accented greek. he was a native of arelas--[arles]--in gaul, but no hellene of them all could pour forth a purer flow of the language of demosthenes than he. the self-reliant, keen, and vivacious natives of the african metropolis were far more to his taste than the athenians; these dwelt only in, and for, the past; the alexandrians rejoiced in the present. here an independent spirit still survived, while on the shores of the ilissus there were none but servile souls who made a merchandise of learning, as the alexandrians did of the products of africa and the treasures of india. once when he had fallen into disgrace with hadrian, the athenians had thrown down his statue, and the favor or disfavor of the powerful weighed with him more than intellectual greatness, valuable labors, and true merit. florus agreed with favorinus on the whole, and declared that rome must be freed from the intellectual influence of athens; but favorinus did not admit this; he opined that it was very difficult for any one who had left youth behind him, to learn anything new, thus referring, with light irony, to the famous work in which florus had attempted to divide the history of rome into four periods, corresponding to the ages of man, but had left out old age, and had treated only of childhood, youth, and manhood. favorinus reproached him with overestimating the versatility of the roman genius, like his friend fronto, and underrating the hellenic intellect. florus answered the gaulish orator in a deep voice, and with such a grand flow of words, that the listening emperor would have enjoyed expressing his approbation, and could not help considering the question as to how many cups of wine his usually placid fellow-countryman might have taken since breakfast to be so excited. when floras tried to prove that under hadrian's rule rome had risen to the highest stage of its manhood, his friend, demetrius, of alexandria, interrupted him, and begged him to tell him something about the emperor's person. florus willingly acceded to this request, and sketched a brilliant picture of the administrative talent, the learning, and the capability of the emperor. "there is only one thing," he cried eagerly, "that i cannot approve of; he is too little at rome, which is now the core and centre of the world. he must need see every thing for himself, and he is always wandering restlessly through the provinces. i should not care to change with him!" "you have expressed the same ideas in verse," said favorinus. "oh! a jest at supper-time. so long as i am in alexandria and waiting on caesar i can make myself very comfortable every day at the 'olympian table' of this admirable cook." "but how runs your poem?" asked pancrates. "i have forgotten it, and it deserved no better fate," replied florus. "but i," laughed the gaul, "i remember the beginning. the first lines, i think, ran thus: "'let others envy caesar's lot; to wander through britannia's dales and be snowed up in scythian vales is caesar's taste--i'd rather not?'" as he heard these words hadrian struck his fist into the palm of his left hand, and while the feasters were hazarding guesses as to why he was so long in coming to alexandria, he took out the folding tablet he was in the habit of carrying in his money-bag, and hastily wrote the following lines on the wax face of it: 'let others envy florus' lot; to wander through the shops for drink, or, into foolish dreaming sink in a cook-shop, where sticky flies buzz round him till he shuts his eyes is florus' taste--i'd rather not?' [from verses by hadrian and florus, preserved in spartianus.] hardly had he ended the lines, muttering them to himself with much relish as he wrote, when the waiter showed in pollux. the sculptor had failed to find antinous, and suggested that the young man had probably gone home; he also begged that he might not be detained long at supper, for he had met his master papias, who had been extremely annoyed by his long absence. hadrian was no longer satisfied with the artist's society, for the conversation in the next room was to him far more attractive than that of the worthy young fellow. he himself was anxious to quit the meal soon, for he felt restless and uneasy. antinous could no doubt easily find his way to lochias, but recollections of the evil omens he had observed in the heavens last night flitted across his soul like bats through a festal hall, marring the pleasure on which he again tried to concentrate it, in order to enjoy his hours of liberty. even pollux was not so light-hearted as before. his long walk had made him hungry, and he addressed himself so vigorously to the excellent dishes which rapidly followed each other by his entertainer's orders, and emptied the cup with such unfailing diligence, that the emperor was astonished: but the more he had to think about, the less did he talk. pollux, to be sure, had had his answer ready for his master, and without considering how easy it would have been to part from him in kindness, he had shortly and roundly quitted his service. now indeed he stood on his own feet, and he was longing to tell arsinoe and his parents of what he had done. during the course of the meal his mother's advice recurred to his mind: to do his best to win the favor and good will of the architect whose guest he was; but he set it aside, for he was accustomed to owe all he gained to his own exertions, and though he still keenly felt in hadrian the superiority of a powerful mind, their expedition through the city had not brought him any nearer to the roman. some insurmountable barrier stood fixed between himself and this restless, inquisitive man, who required so many answers that no one else had time to ask a question, and who when he was silent looked so absorbed and unapproachable that no one would have ventured to disturb him. the bold young artist had, however, tried now and again to break through the fence, but each time, he had at once been seized with a feeling, of which he could not rid himself, that he had done something awkward and unbecoming. he felt in his intercourse with the architect as a noble dog might feel that sported with a lion, and such sport could come to no good. thus, for various reasons, host and guest were well content when the last dish was removed. before pollux left the room the emperor gave him the tablets with the verses and begged him, with a meaning smile, to desire the gate-keeper at the caesareum to give them to annaeus florus the roman. he once more urgently charged the sculptor to look about for his young friend and, if he should find him at lochias, to tell him that he, claudius venator, would return home ere long. then the artist went his way. hadrian still sat a long time listening to the talk close by; but after waiting for above an hour to hear some fresh mention made of himself, he paid his reckoning and went out into the canopic way, now brilliantly lighted. there he mingled with the revellers, and walked slowly onward, seeking suspiciously and anxiously for his vanished favorite. chapter iii. antinous, searching for his master, had wandered about in the crowd. whenever he saw any figures of exceptional stature he followed them, but each time only to discover that he had entered on a false track. long and persistent effort was not in his nature, so as soon as he began to get tired, he gave up the search and sat down again on a stone bench in the garden of the paneum. two cynic philosophers, with unkempt hair, tangled beards, and ragged cloaks flung over their shivering bodies, sat down by him and fell into loud and contemptuous abuse of the deference shown, 'in these days,' to external things and vulgar joys, and of the wretched sensualists who regarded pleasure and splendor, rather than virtue, as the aim and end of existence. in order to be heard by the by-standers they spoke in loud tones, and the elder of the two, flourished his knotted stick as viciously, as though he had to defend himself against an attack. antinous felt much disgusted by the hideous appearance, the coarse manners, and shrill voices of these persons, and when he rose--as the cynics' diatribe seemed especially directed against him--they scoffed at him as he went, mocking at his costume and his oiled and perfumed hair. the bithynian made no reply to this abuse. it was odious to him, but he thought it might perhaps have amused caesar. he wandered on without thinking; the street in which he presently found himself must no doubt lead to the sea, and if he could once find himself on the shore he could not fail to make his way to lochias. by the time it was growing dark he was once more standing outside the little gatehouse, and there he learnt from doris that the roman and her son had not yet returned. what was he to do alone in the vast empty palace? were not the very slaves free to-day? why should not he too for once enjoy life independently and in his own way? full of the pleasant sense of being his own master and at liberty to walk in a road of his own choosing, he went onwards, and when he presently passed by the stall of a flowerseller, he began once more to think eagerly of selene and the nosegay, which must long since have reached her hands. he had heard from pollux in the morning that the steward's daughter was being tended by christians in a little house not far from the sea-shore; indeed the sculptor himself had been quite excited as he told antinous that he himself had peeped into the lighted room and had seen her. 'a glorious creature' he had called her, and had said that she had never looked more beautiful than in a recumbent attitude on her bed. antinous recalled all this and determined to venture on an attempt to see again the maiden whose image filled his heart and brain. it was now dark and the same light which had allowed of the sculptor's seeing selene's features might this evening reveal them to him also. full of passion and excitement, he got into the first litter he met with. the swarthy bearers were far too slow for his longing, and more than once he flung to them as much money as they were wont to earn in a week, to urge them to a brisker pace. at last he reached his destination; but seeing that several men and women robed in white, were going into the garden, he desired the bearers to carry him farther. close to a dark narrow lane which bounded the widow's garden-plot on the east and led directly to the sea, he desired them to stop, got out of the litter and bid the slaves wait for him. at the garden door he still found two men dressed in white, and one of the cynic philosophers who had sat by him on the bench near the paneum. he paced impatiently up and clown, waiting till these people should have disappeared, and thus passing again and again under the light of the torches that were stuck up by the gate. the dry cynic's prominent eyes were everywhere at once, and as soon as he perceived the peripatetic bithynian he flung up his arm, exclaiming, as he pointed to him with a long, lean, stiff forefinger--half to the christians with whom he had been talking and half to the lad himself: "what does he want. that fop! that over-dressed minion! i know the fellow; with his smooth face and the silver quiver on his shoulder he believes he is eros in person. be off with you, you house-rat. the women and girls in here know how to protect themselves against the sort who parade the streets in rose-colored draperies. take yourself off, or you will make acquaintance with the noble paulina's slaves and clogs. hi! gate-keeper, here! keep an eye on this fellow." antinous made no answer, but slowly went back to his litter. "to-morrow perhaps, if i cannot manage it tonight," he thought to himself as be went; and he never thought of any other means of attaining his end, much as he longed for it. a hindrance that came in his way ceased to be a hindrance as soon as he had left it behind him, and after this reflection he acted on this occasion as on many former ones. the litter was no longer standing where he had left it; the bearers had carried it into the lane leading to the sea, for the only little abode which stood on the eastern side of it belonged to a fisherman whose wife sold thin potations of pelusium beer. antinous went down the green alley overarched with boughs of fig, to call the negroes who were sitting in the dull light of a smoky oil-lamp. here it was dark, but at the end of the alley the sea shone and sparkled in the moonlight; the splashing of the waves tempted him onwards and he loitered clown to the stone-bound shore. there he spied a boat dancing on the water between two piles and it came into his head that it might be possible to see the house where selene was sleeping, from the sea. he undid the rope which secured the boat without any difficulty; he seated himself in it, laid aside the quiver and bow, pushed off with one of the oars that lay at the bottom of the boat and pulled with steady strokes towards the long path of light where the moon touched the crest of each dancing wavelet with unresting tremulous flecks of silver. there lay the widow's garden. in that small white house must the fair pale selene be sleeping, but though he rowed hither and thither, backwards and forwards, he could not succeed in discovering the window of which pollux had spoken. might it not be possible to find a spot where he could disembark and then make his way into the garden? he could see two little boats, but they lay in a narrow walled canal and this was closed by an iron railing. beyond, was a, terrace projecting into the sea, and surrounded by an elegant balustrade of little columns, but it rose straight out of the sea on smooth high walls. but there--what was that gleaming under the two palm-trees which, springing from the same root, had grown together tall and slender--was not that a flight of marble steps leading down to the sea? antinous dipped his right oar in the waves with a practised hand to alter the head of the boat and was in the act of pulling his hand up to make his stroke against the pressure of the waves--but he did not complete the movement, nay he counteracted the stroke by a dexterous reverse action; a strange vision arrested his attention. on the terrace, which lay full in the bright moonlight, there appeared a white-robed figure with long floating hair. how strangely it moved! it went now to one side and now to the other, then again it stood still and clasped its head in its hands. antinous shuddered, he could not help thinking of the daimons of which hadrian so often spoke. they were said to be of half-divine and half-human nature, and sometimes appeared in the guise of mortals. or was selene dead and was the white figure her wandering shade? antinous clutched the handles of the oars, now merely floating on the water, and bending forward gazed fixedly and with bated breath at the mysterious being which had now reached the balustrade of the terrace, now--he saw quite plainly--covered its face with both hands, leaned far over the parapet, and now as a star falls through the sky on a clear night, as a fruit drops from the tree in autumn, the white form of the girl dropped from the terrace. a loud cry of anguish broke the silence of the night which veiled the world, and almost at the same instant the water splashed and gurgled up, and the moonbeams, cold and bright as ever, were mirrored in the thousand drops that flew up from its surface. was this antinous, the indolent dreamer, who so promptly plunged his oars in the water, pulled a powerful stroke, and then, when in a few seconds after her fall, the form of the drowning girl came to the surface again quite close to the boat, flung aside the oar that was in his way? leaning far over the edge of the boat he seized the floating garment of the drowning creature--it was a woman, no daimon nor shade--and drew her towards him. he succeeded in raising her high out of the waves, but when he tried to pull her fairly out of her watery bed, the weight, all on one side of the boat, was too great; it turned over and antinous was in the sea. the bithyman was a good swimmer. before the white form could sink a second time he had caught at it once more with his right hand and taking care that her head should not again touch the surface of the water, he swam with his left arm and legs towards the spot where he remembered he had seen the flight of steps. as soon as his feet felt the ground he lifted the girl in both arms and a groan of relief broke from his lips as he saw the marble steps close below him. he went up them without hesitation, and then, with a swift elastic step, carried his dripping and senseless burden to the terrace where he had observed that there were benches. the wide floor of the sea-terrace, paved with smooth flags of marble, was brightly lighted by the broad moonshine, and the whiteness of the stone reflected and seemed to increase the light. there stood the benches which antinous had seen from afar. he laid his burden on the first he came to, and a thrill of thankful joy warmed his shivering body when the rescued woman uttered a low cry of pain which told him that he had not toiled in vain. he gently slipped his arm between the hard elbow of the marble seat and her head, to give it a somewhat softer resting-place. her abundant hair fell in clammy tresses, covering her face like a thick but fine veil; he parted it to the right and left and then--then he sank on his knees by her side as if a sudden bolt had fallen from the blue sky above them; for the features were hers, selene's, and the pale girl before whom he was kneeling was she herself, the woman he loved. almost beside himself and trembling in every limb, he drew her closer to him and put his ear against her mouth to listen whether he had not deceived himself, whether she had not indeed fallen a victim to the waves or whether some warm breath were passing the portals of her lips. yes she breathed! she was alive! full of thankful ecstasy he pressed his cheek to hers. oh! how cold she was, icy, cold as death! the torch of life was flickering, but he would not--could not--must not let it die out: and with all the care, rapidity and decision of the most capable man, he once more raised her, lifted her in both arms as if she were a child, and carried her straight to the house whose white walls he could see gleaming among the shrubs behind the terrace. the little lamp was still burning in dame hannah's room, which selene had so lately quitted; in front of the window through which the dim light came to mingle with the moonbeams, lay the flowers whose perfume had so troubled the suffering girl, and with them hannah's clay jar, all still strewn on the ground. was this nosegay his gift? very likely. but the lamp-lighted room into which he now looked could be none other than the sick-room, which he recognized from the sculptor's account. the housedoor was open and even that of the room in which he had seen the bed was unfastened; he pushed it open with his foot, entered the room, and laid selene on the vacant couch. there she lay as if dead; and as he looked at her immovable features, hallowed to solemnity by sorrow and suffering, his heart was touched with an ineffable solicitude, sympathy and pity; and, as a brother might bend over a sleeping sister, he bent over selene and kissed her forehead. she moved, opened her eyes, gazed into his face--but her glance was so full of horror, so vague, glassy and bewildered, that he drew back with a shudder, and with hands uplifted could only stammer out: "oh! selene, selene! do you not know me?" and as he spoke he looked anxiously in the face of the rescued girl; but she seemed not to hear him and nothing moved but her eyes which slowly followed his every movement. "selene!" he cried again, and seizing her inanimate hand which hung down, he pressed it passionately to his lips. then she gave a loud cry, a violent shiver shook her in every limb, she turned aside with sighs and groans, and at the same instant the door was opened, the little deformed girl entered the room and gave a shrill scream of terror as she saw antinous standing by the side of her friend. the lad himself started and, like a thief who has been caught in the act, he fled out into the night, through the garden, and as far as the gate which led into the street without being stopped by any one. here the gate-keeper met him, but he threw him aside with a powerful fling, and while the old man--who had grown gray in his office--caught hold of his wet chiton he tore the door open and ran on, dragging his pursuer with him for some paces. then he flew down the street with long steps as if he were racing in the gymnasium, and soon he felt that his pursuer, in whose hand he had left a piece of his garment, had given up the chase. the gate-keeper's outcry had mingled with the pious hymns of the assembled christians in paulina's villa, and some of them had hurried out to help capture the disturber of the peace. but the young bithynian was swifter than they and might consider himself perfectly safe when once he had succeeded in mixing with a festal procession. half-willingly and half-perforce, he followed the drunken throng which was making its way from the heart of the city towards the lake, where, on a lonely spot on the shore to the east of nikropolis, they were to celebrate certain nocturnal mysteries. the goal of the singing, shouting, howling mob with whom antinous was carried along, was between alexandria and canopus and far enough from lochias; thus it fell out that it was long past midnight when hadrian's favorite, dirty, out of breath, and his clothes torn, at last appeared in the presence of his master. chapter iv. hadrian had expected antinous many hours since, and the impatience and vexation which had been long seething in him were reflected plainly enough in his sternly-bent brow and the threatening fire of his eye. "where have you been?" he imperiously asked. "i could not find you, so i took a boat and went out on the lake." "that is false." antinous did not answer, but merely shrugged his shoulders. "alone?" asked the emperor more gently. "alone." "and for what purpose?" "i was gazing at the stars." "you!" "and may i not, for once, tread in your footsteps?" "why not indeed? the lights of heaven shine for the foolish as well as for the wise. even asses must be born under a good or an evil star. one donkey serves a hungry grammarian and feeds on used-up papyrus, while another enters the service of caesar and is fattened up, and finds time to go star-gazing at night. what a state you are in." "the boat upset and i fell into the water." hadrian was startled, and observing his favorite's tangled hair in which the night wind had dried the salt water, and his torn chiton, he anxiously exclaimed: "go this instant and let mastor dry you and anoint you. he too came back with a bruised hand and red eyes. everything is upside clown this accursed evening. you look like a slave that has been hunted by clogs. drink a few cups of wine and then lie down." "i obey your orders, great caesar." "so formal? the donkey simile vexed you." "you used always to have a kind word for me." "yes, yes, and i shall have them again, i shall have them again. only not to-night--go to bed." antinous left him, but the emperor paced his room, up and down with long steps, his arms crossed over his breast and his eyes fixed on the ground. his superstitious soul had been deeply disturbed by a series of evil signs which he had not only seen the previous night in the sky, but had also met on his way to lochias, and which seemed to be beginning to be fulfilled already. he had left the eating house in an evil humor, the bad omens made him anxious, and though on his arrival at home he had done one or two things which he already regretted, this had certainly not been due to any adverse daimons but to the brooding gloom of his clouded mind. eternal circumstances, it is true, had led to his being witness to an attack made by the mob on the house of a wealthy israelite, and it was attributable to a vexatious accident that at this juncture, he should have met verus, who had observed and recognized him. yes, the spirits of evil were abroad this day, but his subsequent experiences and deeds upon reaching lochias, would certainly not have taken place on any more fortunate day, or, to be more exact, if he had been in a calmer frame of mind; he himself alone was in fault, he alone, and no spiteful accident, nor malicious and tricky daimon. hadrian, to be sure, attributed to these sprites all that he had done, and so considered it irremediable; an excellent way, no doubt, of exonerating oneself from a burdensome duty, or from repairing some injustice, but conscience is a register in which a mysterious hand inexorably enters every one of our deeds, and in which all that we do is ruthlessly called by its true name. we often succeed, it is true, in effacing the record for a longer or a shorter period, but often, again, the letters on the page shine with an uncanny light, and force the inward eye to see them and to heed them. on this particular night hadrian felt himself compelled to read the catalogue of his actions and among them he found many a sanguinary crime, many a petty action unworthy of a far meaner soul than he; still the record commemorated many duties strictly fulfilled, much honest work, an unceasing struggle towards high aims, and an unwearied effort to feel his way intellectually, to the most remote and exalted limits possible to the human mind and comprehension. in this hour hadrian thought of none but his evil deeds, and vowed to the gods--whom he mocked at with his philosophical friends, and to whom he nevertheless addressed himself whenever he felt the insufficiency of his own strength and means--to build a temple here, to offer a sacrifice there, in order to expiate old crimes and divert their malice. he felt like a great man must who is threatened with the disfavor of his superiors, and who hopes to propitiate them with gifts. the haughty roman quailed at the thought of unknown dangers, but he was far from feeling the wholesome pangs of repentance. hardly an hour since he had forgotten himself and had disgracefully abused his power over a weaker creature, and now he was vexed at having behaved so and not otherwise; but it never entered his head to humiliate his pride or, by offering some compensation to the offended party, tacitly to confess the injustice he had committed. often he deeply felt his human weakness, but he was quite capable of believing in the sacredness of his imperial person, and this he always found most easy when he had trodden under foot some one who had been rash enough to insult him, or not to acknowledge his superiority. and was it not on the contemners of the gods that their heaviest punishments fell? to-day the terrestrial jupiter had again crushed into the earth with his thunderbolts, an overbold mortal, and this time the son of the worthy gate-keeper was his victim. the sculptor certainly had been so unlucky as to touch hadrian in his most sensitive spot, but a cordially benevolent feeling is not easily converted into a relentless opposition if we are not ourselves--as was the case with the emperor--accustomed to jump from one mood to the other, are not conscious--as he was--of having it in our power directly to express our good-will or our aversion in action. the sculptor's capacities had commanded the emperor's esteem, his fresh and independent nature had at first suited and attracted him, but even during the walk together through the streets, the young man's uncompromising manner of treating him as an equal had become unpleasing to him. in his workshop he saw in pollux only the artist, and delighted in his original and dashing powers; but out of it, and among men of a commoner stamp, from whom he was accustomed to meet with deference, the young man's speech and demeanor seemed unbecoming, bold, and hard to be endured. in the eating-house the huge eater and drinker, who laughingly pressed him to do his part, so as not to make a present to the landlord, had filled hadrian with repulsion. and after this, when hadrian had returned to lochias, out of humor and rendered apprehensive by evil omens, and even then had not found his favorite, he impatiently paced up and down the hall of the muses and would not deign to offer a greeting to the sculptor, who was noisily occupied behind his screens. pollux had passed quite as bad an evening as the emperor. when, in his desire to see arsinoe once more, he penetrated to the door of the steward's apartment, keraunus had stopped his way, and sent him about his business with insulting words. in the hall of the muses he had met his master, and had had a quarrel with him, for papias, to whom he repeated his notice to quit, had grown angry, and had desired him then and there to sort out his own tools, and to return those that belonged to him, his master, and for the future to keep himself as far as possible from papias' house, and from the works in progress at locluas. on this, hard words had passed on both sides, and when papias had left the palace and pollux went to seek pontius the architect, in order to discuss his future plans with him, he learnt that he too had quitted lochias a short time before, and would not return till the following morning. after brief reflection he determined to obey the orders of papias and to pack his own tools together. without paying any heed to hadrian's presence he began to toss some of the hammers, chisels, and wooden modelling tools into one box, and others into another, doing it as recklessly as though he were minded to punish the unconscious tools as adverse creatures who had turned against him. at last his eye fell on hadrian's bust of balbilla. the hideous caricature at which he had laughed only yesterday, made him angry now, and after gazing at it thoughtfully for a few minutes his blood boiled up furiously, he hastily pulled a lath out of the partition and struck at the monstrosity with such fury that the dry clay flew in pieces, and the fragments were strewed far and wide about the workshop. the wild noise behind the sculptor's screen made the emperor pause in his walk to see what the artist was doing; he looked on at the work of destruction, unobserved by pollux, and as he looked the blood mounted to his head; he knit his brows in anger, a blue vein in his forehead swelled and stood out, and ominous lines appeared above his brow. the great master of state-craft could more easily have borne to hear himself condemned as a ruler than to see his work of art despised. a man who is sure of having done some thing great can smile at blame, but he, who is not confident in himself has reason to dread it, and is easily drawn into hating the critic who utters it. hadrian was trembling with fury, he doubled his first as he lifted it in pollux's face, and going close up to him asked in a threatening tone: "what do you mean by that?" the sculptor glanced round at the emperor and answered, raising his stick for another blow: "i am demolishing this caricature for it enrages me." "come here," shouted hadrian, and clutching the girdle which confined the artist's chiton, in his strong sinewy hand, he dragged the startled sculptor in front of his urania wrenched the lath out of his hand, struck the bust of the scarcely-finished statue off the body, exclaiming as he did so, in a voice that mimicked pollux: "i am demolishing this bungler's work for it enrages me!" the artist's arms fell by his side; astonished and infuriated he stared at the destroyer of his handiwork, and cried out: "madman! this is enough. one blow more and you will feel the weight of my fists." hadrian laughed aloud, a cold hard laugh, flung the lath at pollux's feet and said: "judgment against judgment--it is only fair." "fair?" shrieked pollux, beside himself. "your wretched rubbish, which my squinting apprentice could have done as well as you, and this figure born in a moment of inspiration! shame upon you! once more, if you touch the urania again i warn you, you shall learn--" "well, what?" "that in alexandria grey hairs are only respected so long as they deserve it." hadrian folded his arms, stepped quite close up to pollux, and said: "gently, fellow, if you value your life." pollux stepped back before the imposing personage that stood before him, and, as it were scales, fell from his eyes. the marble statue of the emperor in the caesareum represented the sovereign in this same attitude. the architect, claudius venator, was none other than hadrian. the young artist turned pale and said with bowed head, and in low voice as he turned to go: "right is always on the side of the strongest. let me go. i am nothing but a poor artist--you are some thing very different. i know you now; you are caesar." "i am caesar," snarled hadrian, "and if you think more of yourself as an artist than of me, i will show you which of us two is the sparrow, and which the eagle." "you have the power to destroy, and i only desire--" "the only person here who has a right to desire is myself," cried the emperor, "and i desire that you shall never enter this palace again, nor ever come within sight of me so long as i remain here. what to do with your kith and kin i will consider. not another word! away with you, i say, and thank the gods that i judge the misdeed of a miserable boy more mercifully than you dared to do in judging the work of a greater man than yourself, though you knew that he had done it in an idle hour with a few hasty touches. be off, fellow; my slaves will finish destroying your image there, for it deserves no better fate, and because--what was it you said just now? i remember--and because it enrages me." a bitter laugh rang after the lad as he quitted the hall. at the entrance, which was perfectly dark, he found his master, papias, who had not missed a word of what had passed between him and the emperor. as pollux went into his mother's house he cried out: "oh mother, mother, what a morning, and what an evening. happiness is only the threshold to misery." etext editor's bookmarks: happiness is only the threshold to misery when a friend refuses to share in joys this ebook was produced by david widger <widger@cecomet.net> [note: there is a short list of bookmarks, or pointers, at the end of the file for those who may wish to sample the author's ideas before making an entire meal of them. d.w.] in the blue pike by georg ebers volume 2. chapter iv. the ropedancer, kuni, really had been with the sick mother and her babes, and had toiled for them with the utmost diligence. the unfortunate woman was in great distress. the man who had promised to take her in his cart to her native village of schweinfurt barely supported himself and his family by the tricks of his trained poodles. he made them perform their very best feats in the taverns, under the village lindens, and at the fairs. but the children who gazed at the four-footed artists, though they never failed to give hearty applause, frequently paid in no other coin. he would gladly have helped the unfortunate woman, but to maintain the wretched mother and her twins imposed too heavy a burden upon the kind-hearted vagabond, and he had withdrawn his aid. then the ropedancer met her. true, she herself was in danger of being left lying by the wayside; but she was alone, and the mother had her children. these were two budding hopes, while she had nothing more to expect save the end--the sooner the better. there could be no new happiness for her. and yet, to have found some one who was even more needy than she, lifted her out of herself, and to have power to be and do something in her behalf pleased her, nay, even roused an emotion akin to that which, in better days, she had felt over a piece of good fortune which others envied. perhaps she herself might be destined to die on the highway, without consolation, the very next day; but she could save this unhappy woman from it, and render her end easier. oh, how rich lienhard's gold coins made her! yet if, instead of three, there had been as many dozens, she would have placed the larger portion in the twins' pillows. how it must soothe their mother's heart! each one was a defence against hunger and want. besides, the gold had been fairly burning her hand. it came from lienhard. had it not been for cyriax and the crowd of people in the room, she would have made him take it back--she alone knew why. how did this happen? why did every fibre of her being rebel against receiving even the smallest trifle from the man to whom she would gladly have given the whole world? why, after she had summoned up courage and approached lienhard to restore his gift, had she felt such keen resentment and bitter suffering when the landlord of the blue pike stopped her? as she now seized his gold, it seemed as though she saw lienhard before her. she had already told cyriax how she met the aristocratic nuremberg patrician, a member of the ancient and noble groland family, whom his native city had now made an ambassador so young. but what secretly bound her to him had never passed her lips. once in her life she had felt something which placed her upon an equal footing with the best and purest of her sex--a great love for one from whom she asked nothing, nothing at all, save to be permitted to think of him and to sacrifice everything, everything for him--even life. so strange had been the course of this love, that people would have doubted her sanity or her truthfulness had she described it to them. while standing before st. sebald's church in nuremberg, the vision of the young councillor's bride at first made a far stronger impression upon her mind than his own. then her gaze rested on lienhard. as he had chosen the fairest of women, the bride had also selected the tallest, most stately, and certainly the best and wisest of men. during her imprisonment the image of this rare couple had been constantly before her. not until, through the young husband's intercession, she had regained her liberty, after he prevented her kissing his hand and, to soothe her, had stroked her hair and cheeks in the magistrate's room, did the most ardent gratitude take possession of her soul. from this emotion, which filled heart and mind, a glowing wealth of other feelings had blossomed like buds upon a rosebush. everything in her nature had attracted her toward him, and the desire to devote herself to him, body and soul, shed the last drop of blood in her heart for him, completely ruled her. his image rose before her day and night, sometimes alone, sometimes with his beautiful bride. not only to him, but to her also she would joyfully have rendered the most menial service, merely to be near them and to be permitted to show that the desire to prove her gratitude had become the object of her life. when, with good counsel for the future, he dismissed her from the chief magistrate's room, he had asked her where she was to be found in case he should have anything to say to her. it seemed as though, from mingled alarm and joy, her heart would stop beating. if her lodgings, instead of an insignificant tavern, had been her own palace, she would gladly have opened all its gates to him, yet a feverish thrill ran through her limbs at the thought that he might seek her among her vagabond companions, and ask in return for his kindness what he would never have presumed to seek had she been the child of reputable parents, yet which, with mingled anger and happiness, she resolved not to refuse. during the day and the night when she expected his visit, she had become aware that she, who had never cared for any man save for the gifts he bestowed, was fired with love for lienhard. such ardent yearning could torture only a loving heart, yet what she felt was very unlike the love with which she was familiar in songs, and had seen in other girls; for she by no means thought with jealous rancour of the woman to whom he belonged, body and soul--his beautiful wife. it rather seemed to her that she was his, and he would no longer be the same if he were separated from her, nay, as if her very love was hers also. when she heard a noise outside of her little room she started, and eagerly as she yearned to see him, blissful as she thought it must be to sink upon his breast and offer him her lips to kiss, the bold ropedancer, who never cared for the opinions of others, could not shake off, even for a moment, the fear of wronging the fair wife who had a better right to him. instead of hating her, or even wishing to share the heart of the man she loved with his bride, she shrank from the approaching necessity of clouding her young happiness as though it were the direst misfortune. yet she felt that its prevention lay, not in her own hands, but in those of fate. should it please destiny to lead lienhard to her and inspire him with a desire for her love, all resistance, she knew, would be futile. so she began to repeat several paternosters that he might remain away from her. but her yearning was so great that she soon desisted, and again and again went to the window with a fervent wish that he might come. in the terrible tumult of her heart she had forgotten to eat or to drink since early morning, and at last, in the afternoon, some one knocked at the door, and the landlady called her. while she was hurriedly smoothing her thick black hair and straightening her best gown, which she had put on for him in the morning, she heard the hostess say that herr groland of the council was waiting for her downstairs. every drop of blood left her glowing cheeks, and the knees which never trembled on the rope shook as she descended the narrow steps. he came forward to meet her in the entry, holding out his hand with openhearted frankness. how handsome and how good he was! no one wore that look who desired aught which must be hidden under the veil of darkness. ere her excited blood had time to cool, he had beckoned to her to follow him into the street, where a sedan chair was standing. an elderly lady of dignified bearing looked out and met her eyes with a pleasant glance. it was frau sophia, the widow of herr conrad schurstab of the council, one of the richest and most aristocratic noblewomen in the city. lienhard had told her about the charming prisoner who had been released and begged her to help him bring her back to a respectable and orderly life. the lady needed an assistant who, now that it was hard for her to stoop, would inspect the linen closets, manage the poultry yardher pride--and keep an eye on the children when they came to visit their grandmother. so she instantly accompanied lienhard to the tavern, and kuni pleased her. but it would have been difficult not to feel some degree of sympathy for the charming young creature who, in great embarrassment, yet joyously as though released from a heavy burden, raised her large blue eyes to the kind stranger. it was cold in the street, and as kuni had come out without any wrap, frau schurstab, in her friendly consideration, shortened the, conference. lienhard uroland had helped her with a few words, and when the sedan chair and the young councillor moved down the street all the necessary details were settled. the vagrant had bound herself and assumed duties, though they were very light ones. she was to move that evening into the distinguished widow's house, not as a servant, but as the old lady's assistant. loni, the manager of the company of rope-dancers, had watched the negotiations from the taproom. during their progress each of the three windows was filled with heads, but no one had been able to hear what was whispered in the street. just as the curious spectators were hoping that now they might perhaps guess what the aristocratic lady wanted with kuni, the sedan chair began to move, and the young girl entered the hot room to tell loni that she would leave the company that day forever. "in-de-e-ed?" loni asked in astonishment, lifting the gold circlet which rested on his head. then he passed his hand through the coal-black hair which, parted in the middle, fell in smooth strands upon his neck, and exerted all his powers of persuasion to convince her of the folly of her plan. after his arguments were exhausted he raised his voice louder. as usual, when excited by anger, he swung his lower right arm to and fro, feeling the prominent muscles with his left hand. but kuni remained resolute, and when be at last perceived that his opposition only increased her obstinacy, he exclaimed: "then rush on to your destruction! the day will come when you will see where you belong. if only it doesn't arrive too late. a man grows twelve and a woman thirty-six months older every year." with these words he turned his back upon her, and the clown brought the amount of wages which was due. many an eye grew dim with tears when kuni bade farewell to her companions. shortly after sunset she was welcomed to frau schurstab's house. the first greeting was friendly, and she received nothing but kindness and indulgent treatment afterward. she had a sunny chamber of her own, and how large and soft her bed was! but while, when on the road with loni's band, if they could reach no town, she had often slept soundly and sweetly on a heap of straw, here she spent one restless night after another. during the first a series of questions disturbed her slumber. was it really only the desire to take her from her vagabond life which had induced lienhard to open this house to her? did he not perhaps also cherish the wish to keep her near him? he had certainly come to her with frau schurstab to protect her reputation. had it not been so he might have left the matron at home; for loni and everybody in the company knew that she never troubled herself about gossip. last year she had obtained a leave of absence from loni, who was making a tour of the little frank towns, and spent the carnival season in revelry with a sergeant of the nurembreg soldiers. when the booty he had gained in italy was squandered, she gave him his dismissal. her reputation among her companions was neither better nor worse than that of the other strolling players who, like her, were born on the highway, yet she was glad that lienhard had tried to spare her. or had he only come with the old noblewoman on account of his own fair name? perhaps--her pulses again throbbed faster at the thought--he had not ventured to come alone because some feeling for her stirred in his own heart, and, spite of his beautiful young wife, he did not feel safe from her. then fran schurstab was to serve as a shield. this conjecture flattered her vanity and reconciled her to the step which she had taken and already began to regret. but suppose he really felt no more for her than the forester who finds a child lost in the woods, and guides it into the right path? how would she endure that? yet, were it otherwise, if he was like the rest of men, if he profited by what her whole manner must betray to him, how should she face his wife, who undoubtedly would soon come to call on her aunt? all these questions roused a tumult of unprecedented violence in her young, ardent, inexperienced soul, which was renewed each successive night. it became more and more difficult for her to understand why she had left loni's band and entered into relations for which she was not suited, and in which she could never, never be at ease or feel happy. nothing was lacking in this wealthy household, not even kindness and love. frau sophia was indulgent and friendly, even when kuni, whose heart and brain were occupied with so many other thoughts, neglected or forgot anything. the matron's grandchildren, of whom she often had charge, soon became warmly attached to her. while among the rope-dancers she had been fond of children, and many a little one who journeyed with the band held out its arms to her more joyously than to its own mother. there was something in her nature that attracted them. besides, her skilful hands could show them many a rare trick, and she could sing numerous songs new to the schurstab boys and girls, which she had picked up here and there. then, too, she permitted many a prank which no one else would have allowed. her duties connected with the household linen and the poultry yard, its owner's pride, were so easily performed, that in her leisure hours she often voluntarily helped the housekeeper. at first the latter eyed her askance, but she soon won her affection. both she and her mistress showed her as much attention as the gardener bestows upon a wild plant which he has transferred to good soil, where it thrives under his care. she kept aloof from the servants, and neither man nor maid molested her. perhaps this was due to foolish arrogance, for after they had learned from rumour that kuni had danced on the tight rope, they considered themselves far superior. the younger maids timidly kept out of her way, and kuni surpassed them in pride and looked down upon them, because her free artist blood rebelled against placing herself on the plane of a servitor. she did not vouchsafe them a word, yet neither did she allow any of them to render her even the most trivial service. but she could not escape seifried, the equerry of her mistress's eldest son. at first, according to her custom, she had roused the handsome fellow's hopes by fiery glances which she could not restrain. now he felt that she cared for him, and in his honest fashion offered to make her his beloved wife; but she refused his suit, at first kindly, then angrily. as he still persisted she begged the housekeeper, though she saw that matchmaking was her delight, to keep him away. even in march frau sophia thanked lienhard for the new inmate of her household, who far exceeded her expectations. in april her praise became still warmer, only she regretted that kuni's pretty face was losing its fresh colour and her well-formed figure its roundness. she was sorry, too, that she so often seemed lost in thought, and appeared less merry while playing with the children. lienhard and his young wife excused the girl's manner. comfortable as she was now, she was still a prisoned bird. it would be unnatural, nay, suspicious, if she did not sometimes long for the old freedom and her former companions. she would also remember at times the applause of the multitude. the well-known loni, her former employer, had besought him to win her back to his company, complaining loudly of her loss, because it was difficult to replace her with an equally skilful young artist. it was now evident how mistaken the juggler had been when he asserted that kuni, who was born among vagrants, would never live in a respectable family. he, lienhard, had great pleasure in knowing that the girl, on the road to ruin, had been saved by frau sophia's goodness. lienhard's father had died shortly after kuni entered her new home. every impulse to love dalliance, she felt, must shrink before this great sorrow. the idea sustained her hopes. she could not expect him to seek her again until the first bitterness of grief for the loss of this beloved relative had passed away. she could wait, and she succeeded in doing so patiently. but week after week went by and there was no change in his conduct. then a great anxiety overpowered her, and this did not escape his notice; for one day, while his young wife hung on his arm and added a few brief words of sympathy, he asked kuni if she was ill or if she needed anything; but she answered curtly in the negative and hurried into the garden, where the children, with merry shouts, were helping the gardener to free the beds of crocuses and budding tulips from the pine boughs which had protected them from the frosts of winter. another sleepless night followed this incident. it was useless to deceive herself. she might as well mistake black for white as to believe that lienhard cared for her. to no one save his fair young wife would he grant even the smallest ray of the love of which he was doubtless capable, and in which she beheld the sun that dispensed life and light. she had learned this, for he had often met her in frau sophia's house since his father's funeral. the child of the highway had never been taught to conceal her feelings and maintain timid reserve. her eyes had told him eloquently enough, first her deep sympathy, and afterward the emotions which so passionately stirred her heart. had the feelings which her glances were intended to reveal passed merely for the ardent gratitude of an impassioned soul? gratitude! for what? his lukewarm interest had tempted her from a free, gay life, full of constant excitement, into the oppressive, wearisome monotony of this quiet house, where she was dying of ennui. how narrow, how petty, how tiresome everything seemed, and what she had bartered for it was the world, the whole wide, wide world. as the chicken lured the fox, the hope of satisfying the fervent longing of her heart, though even once and for a few brief moments, had brought her into the snare. but the fire which burned within had not been extinguished. an icy wind had fanned the flames till they blazed higher and higher, threatening her destruction. frau schurstab had made her attend church and go to the confessional. but the mass, whose meaning she did not understand, offered no solace to the soul which yearned for love alone. besides, it wearied her to remain so long in the same place, and the confession forced the girl, who had never shrunk from honestly expressing what she felt, into deception. the priest to whom she was taken was a frequent visitor at the schurstab house, and she would have died ere she would have confided to him the secret of her heart. besides, to her the feeling which animated her was no sin. she had not summoned it. it had taken possession of her against her will and harmed no one except herself, not even the wife who was so sure of her husband. how could she have presumed to dispute with her the possession of herr lienhard's love? yet it seemed an insult that frau katharina had no fear that she could menace her happiness. could the former know that kuni would have been content with so little--a tender impulse of his heart, a kiss, a hasty embrace? that would do the other no injury. in the circles whence she had been brought no one grudged another such things. how little, she thought, would have been taken from the wealthy katharina by the trifling gift which would have restored to her happiness and peace. the fact that lienhard, though he never failed to notice her, would not understand, and always maintained the same pleasant, aristocratic reserve of manner, she sometimes attributed to fear, sometimes to cruelty, sometimes to arrogance; she would not believe that he saw in her only a person otherwise indifferent to him, whom he wished to accustom to the mode of life which he and his friends believed to be the right path, pleasing in the sight of god. love, feminine vanity, the need of approval, her own pride--all opposed this view. when the last snow of winter had melted, and the spring sunshine of april was unfolding the green leafage and opening bright flowers in the meadows, the hedges, the woods, and the gardens, she found the new home which she had entered during the frosts of february, and whose solid walls excluded every breath of air, more and more unendurable. a gnawing feeling of homesickness for the free out-of-door life, the wandering from place to place, the careless, untrammelled people to whom she belonged, took possession of her. she felt as though everything which surrounded her was too small, the house, the apartments, her own chamber, nay, her very clothing. only the hope of the first token that lienhard was not so cold and unconquerable as he seemed, that she would at last constrain him to pass the barrier which separated them, still detained her. then came the day when, to avoid answering his question whether she needed anything, she had gone into the garden. before reaching the children, who were playing among the crocuses and tulips, she had said to herself that she must leave this house--it was foolish, nay mad, to continue to cherish the hope which had brought her hither. she would suffer keenly in tearing it from her heart, but a wild delight seized her at the thought that this imprisonment would soon be over, that she would be free once more, entirely her own mistress, released from every restraint and consideration. how rapturous was the idea that she would soon be roving through the fields and woods again with gay, reckless companions! was there anything more pleasurable than to forget herself, and devote her whole soul to the execution of some difficult and dangerous feat, to attract a thousand eyes by her bewitching grace, and, sustained by her enthusiasm, force a thousand hearts to throb anxiously and give loud applause as she flew over the rope? never had the children seen her more extravagantly gay than after her resolve to leave them. yet when, at a late hour, kuni went to bed, the old housekeeper heard her weeping so piteously in her chamber that she rose to ask what had happened. but the girl did not even open her door, and declared that she had probably had the nightmare. during the next few days she sometimes appeared more cheerful and docile, sometimes more dull and troubled than her household companions had ever seen her. frau schurstab shook her head over her protegee's varying moods. but when the month of may began, and lienhard told his aunt that loni, who had only remained in nuremberg during lent to spend the time when all public performances were prohibited, had applied to the council for permission to give exhibitions with his company easter week in the haller meadows, the matron was troubled about her protegee's peace of mind. her nephew had had the same thought, and advised her to move to her country estate, that kuni might see and hear nothing of the jugglers; but she had noticed the clown with other members of the company, as they passed through the streets on foot and mounted on horses and donkeys, inviting the people, with blare of trumpets and beating of drums, to witness the wonderful feats which loni's famous band of artists would perform. then kuni packed her bundle. but when she heard the next morning that, before going to the country, frau schurstab would attend the christening of her youngest grandson, and spend the whole day with the daughter who was the little boy's mother, she untied it. one sunny may morning she was left alone, as she had expected. she could not be invited to the ceremony with the other guests, and she would not join the servants. the housekeeper and most of the men and maids had accompanied their mistress to help in the kitchen and to wait upon the visitors. deep silence reigned throughout the great empty house, but kuni's heart had never throbbed so loudly. if lienhard came now, her fate would be decided, and she knew that he must come. just before noon, he really did rap with the knocker on the outer door. he wanted the christening gift, which frau schurstab had forgotten to take for the infant. the money was in the chest in the matron's room. kuni led the way. the house seemed to reel around her as she went up the stairs behind him. the next moment, she felt, must decide her destiny. now he laid his hand upon the doorknob, now he opened the door. the widow's chamber was before her. thick silk curtains shut out the bright may sunshine from the quiet room. how warm and pleasant it was! she already saw herself in imagination kneeling by his side before the chest to help him search. while doing so, his fingers might touch hers, perhaps her hair might brush against his. but, instead of entering, he turned to her with careless unconcern, saying: "it is fortunate that i have found you alone. will you do me a favour, girl?" he had intended to ask her to help him prepare a surprise for his aunt. the day after to-morrow was frau sophia schurstab's birthday. early in the morning she must find among her feathered favourites a pair of rare india fowls, which he had received from venice. as kuni did not instantly assent, because the wild tumult of her blood paralyzed her tongue, he noticed her confusion, and in an encouraging tone, gaily continued: "what i have to ask is not too difficult." as he spoke he passed his hand kindly over her dark hair, just as he had done a few months before in the town hall. then the blood mounted to her brain. clasping his right hand, beneath whose touch she had just trembled, in both her own, she passionately exclaimed: "ask whatever you desire. if you wanted to trample my heart under your feet, i would not stir." a look of ardent love from her sparkling blue eyes accompanied the words; but he had withdrawn his hand in astonishment, and raised a lofty barrier between them by answering coldly and sternly, "keep the heart and your dainty self for the equerry seifried who is an honest man." the advice, and the lofty austerity with which it was given, pierced kuni like the thrust of a dagger. yet she succeeded controlling herself, and, without a word reply, preceded the harsh man into the sleeping room and silently, tearlessly, pointed the chest. when he had taken out the money, she bowed hastily and ran down the stairs. probably she heard him call her name more than three times; doubtless, afterward she fancied that she remembered how his voice had sounded in beseeching, tender, at last even imperious tones through the empty corridors; but she did not turn, and hurried into her room. chapter v. when, on the evening of the christening day, lienhard accompanied his aunt home, kuni was nowhere to be found. frau sophia discovered in her chamber every article of clothing which she had obtained for her, even the beaver cap, the prayer-book, and the rosary which she had given. the young burgomaster, at her request, went to the manager of the ropedancers, loni, the next morning, but the latter asserted that he knew nothing about the girl. the truth was that he had sent her to wurzburg with part of his company. from that time she had remained with the ropedancers. at first the master had watched her carefully, that she might not run away again. but he soon perceived this to be unnecessary; for he had never found any member of the company more zealous, or seen one make more progress in the art. now the only point was to keep her out of the way of other ropedancers, english proprietors of circus companies, as well as the numerous knights and gentlemen who tried to take her from him. her name had become famous. when the crier proclaimed that the "flying maiden" would ascend the rope to the steeple, loni was sure of a great crowd of spectators. among her own profession she had obtained the nickname of crazy kuni. yet even at that time, and in the midst of the freest intercourse with german, spanish, and other officers in flanders and brabant, young knights and light-hearted priests on the rhine, the main, the danube, the weser, and the elbe, whose purses the pretty, vivacious girl, with the shining raven hair and bright blue eyes, the mistress of her art, seemed to their owners worthy to empty, she had by no means forgotten lienhard. this wrought mischief to many a gay gentleman of aristocratic lineage in the great imperial and commercial cities; for it afforded kuni special pleasure to try her power upon lienhard's equals in rank. when she went on with the company, more than one patrician had good reason to remember her with regret; for she, who shared the lion's portion of her earnings with her companions or flung it to the poor, was insatiably avaricious toward these admirers. the weaker she found many of them, the higher, in her opinion, rose the image of him who had made her feel his manly strength of resistance so cruelly. his stern, inexorable nature seemed to her worthy of hate, yet for three whole years the longing for him scarcely left her heart at peace an hour. during this whole period she had not met him. not until after she had come to augsburg, where loni's company was to give several performances before the assembled reichstag, did she see him again. once she even succeeded in attracting his gaze, and this was done in a way which afforded her great satisfaction. his beautiful wife, clad in costly velvet robes, was walking by his side with eyes decorously downcast; but he had surely recognised her--there was no doubt of that. yet he omitted to inform his wife, even by a look, whom he had met here. kuni watched the proud couple a long time, and, with the keen insight of a loving heart, told herself that he would have pointed her out to frau katharina, if he did not remember her in some way--either in kindness or in anger. this little discovery had sufficed to transfigure, as it were, the rest of the day, and awaken a throng of new hopes and questions. even now she did not desire to win frau katharina's husband from her. she freely acknowledged that the other's beauty was tenfold greater than her own; but whether the gifts of love which the woman with the cloudless, aristocratic composure could offer to her husband were not like the beggar's pence, compared with the overflowing treasure of ardent passion which she cherished for lienhard, was a question to which she believed there could be but a single answer. was this lady, restricted by a thousand petty scruples, as well as by her stiff, heavy gala robes, a genuine woman at all? ah! if he would only for once cast aside the foolish considerations which prevented him also from being a genuine man, clasp her, whom he knew was his own, in his arms, and hold her as long as he desired, he should learn what a strong, free, fearless woman, whose pliant limbs were as unfettered as her heart, could bestow upon him to whom she gave all the love that she possessed! and he must want something of her which was to be concealed from the wife. she could not be mistaken. she had never been deceived in a presentiment that was so positive. ever since she reached augsburg, an inner voice had told her-and old brigitta's cards confirmed it--that the destiny of her life would be decided here, and he alone held her weal and woe in his hand. yet she had misinterpreted his conduct to his wife. in spite of the finery which kuni owed to the generosity of the knight of neckerfels, who was then a suitor for her favour, lienhard had recognised her. the sight recalled their last meeting and its painful termination, and therefore he had omitted to attract frau katharina's attention to her immediately. but, ere kuni disappeared, he had repaired the oversight, and both desired to ascertain the fate of their former charge. true, the wish could not be instantly fulfilled, for lienhard's time and strength were wholly claimed by the mission intrusted to him by the emperor and the council. the next afternoon kuni ascended the rope to the steeple in the presence of many princes and dignitaries. firmly as ever she moved along the rope stretched through the wooden stay behind her, holding the balancing pole as she went. the clapping of hands and shouts of applause with which the crowd greeted "the flying maiden" led her to kiss her hand to the right and the left, and bow to the stand which had been erected for the crowned heads, counts, nobles, and their wives. in doing so, she looked down at the aristocratic spectators to ascertain whether the emperor and one other were among them. in spite of the height of the topmost window of the steeple where she stood, her keen eyes showed her that maximilian's seat was still vacant. as it was hung with purple draperies and richly garlanded, the monarch was evidently expected. this pleased her, and her heart throbbed faster as she saw on the stand all the nobles who were entitled to admittance to the lists of a tournament, and, in the front row, the man whose presence she most desired. at lienhard's right sat his dazzlingly beautiful wife, adorned with plumes and the most superb gold ornaments; at his left was a maiden of extremely peculiar charm. according to years she was still a child, but her delicate, mobile features had a mature expression, which sometimes gave her a precocious air of superiority. the cut of her white robe and the little laurel wreath on her brown curls reminded kuni of the pagan genius on an ancient work of marble which she had seen in verona. neither the girl's age nor her light, airy costume harmonized with her surroundings; for the maids and matrons near her were all far beyond childhood, and wore the richest holiday costumes of heavy brocades and velvets. the huge puffs on the upper part of the sleeves touched the cheeks of many of the wearers, and the lace ruffs on the stiff collars rendered it easy, it is true, to maintain their aristocratic, haughty dignity, but prevented any free, swift movement. the young girl who, as kuni afterward learned, was the daughter of conrad peutinger, of augsburg, whom she had again seen that day in the blue pike, was then eleven years old. she was sometimes thought to be fifteen or even sixteen; her mobile face did not retain the same expression a single instant. when the smile which gave her a childlike appearance vanished, and any earnest feeling stirred her soul, she really resembled a mature maiden. what a brilliant, versatile intellect must animate this remarkable creature! lienhard, shrewd and highly educated as he was, seemed to be completely absorbed in his neighbour; nay, in his animated conversation with her he entirely forgot the beautiful wife at his side; at least, while kuni looked down at him, he did not bestow a single glance upon her. now he shook his finger mischievously at the child, but he seemed to be seeking, in mingled amusement and perplexity, to find a fitting answer. and how brightly lienhard's eyes sparkled as he fairly hung upon the sweet red lips of the little marvel at his left--the heart side! a few minutes had sufficed to show the ropedancer all this, and suggest the question whether it was possible that the most faithful of husbands would thus basely neglect, for the sake of a child, the young wife whom he had won in spite of the hardest obstacles, on whose account he had so coldly and cruelly rejected her, the object of so much wooing, and who, this very day, was the fairest of all the beautiful ladies who surrounded her. in an instant her active mind transported her to the soul of the hitherto favoured wife of the man whom she loved, and her strangely constituted woman's heart filled with resentment against the young creature below, who had not even attained womanhood, and yet seemed to gain, without effort, the prize for which she had vainly striven with painful longing. she, whose heart had remained free from jealousy of the woman who stood between her and the man she loved, like a solid bulwark erected by fate itself, was now suddenly overmastered by this passion. yet she did not turn against the person to whom lienhard belonged, as he did to the city, or to his own family, and who was united to him by the will of heaven, but against the mysterious young creature at his side, who changed with every passing moment. this child--no, this maiden--must be a being of some special nature. like the sirens of whom she had heard, she possessed the mysterious, enviable power of conquering the iron resistance of even the strongest man. like a flash of lightning, kuni, whose kind heart cherished resentment against few and wished no one any evil, suddenly felt an ardent desire to drive the little witch from lienhard's side, even by force, if necessary. had she held a thunderbolt instead of a balance pole, she would gladly have struck down the treacherous child from her height--not only because this enchantress had so quickly won that for which she had vainly yearned, alas! how long, but because it pierced her very heart to see frau katharina's happiness clouded, nay, perhaps destroyed. a bitterness usually alien to her light, gay nature had taken possession of her, as, with the last glance she cast at lienhard, she saw him bend low over the child and, with fiery ardour, whisper something which transformed the delicate pink flush in her cheeks to the hue of the poppy. yes, the ropedancer was jealous of the laurel-crowned child. she, who cared so little for law and duty, virtue and morality, now felt offended, wounded, tortured by lienhard's conduct. but there was no time to ponder over the reason now. she had already delayed too long ere moving forward. yet even calm reflection would not have revealed the right answer to the problem. how could she have suspected that what stirred her passionate soul so fiercely was grief at the sight of the man whom she had regarded as the stronghold of integrity, the possessor of the firmest will, the soul of inviolable fidelity, succumbing here, before the eyes of all, like a dissolute weakling, to the seductive arts of an immature kobold? these two, who gave to her, the orphaned vagrant, surrounded by unbridled recklessness, physical and mental misery, a proof that there was still in marriage real love and a happiness secure from every assault, were now, before her eyes, placing themselves on the same plane with the miserable couples whom she met everywhere. she could not have expressed her emotions in words, but she vaguely felt that the world had become poorer, and that henceforth she must think of something more trivial when she tried to imagine the pure happiness which mortals are permitted to enjoy. she had seen the blossoms stripped from the scanty remnant of her faith in truth and goodness, which had begun to bloom afresh in her heart through the characters of this pair whose marriage procession she had watched. loni had been beckoning a long time; now he waved his gay handkerchief still more impatiently, and she moved on. her lips forced themselves into the customary smile with difficulty. tripping forward was an easy matter for one so free from dizziness. she only carried the pole because it was customary to begin with the least difficult feats. yet, while gracefully placing one foot before the other, she said to herself--safe as she felt--that, while so much agitated, she would be wiser not to look down again into the depths below. she did avoid it, and with a swift run gained the end of the rope without effort, and went up and down it a second time. while, on reaching the end of her walk, she was chalking her soles again, the applause which had accompanied her during her dangerous pilgrimage still rose to her ears, and came-most loudly of all from the stand where lienhard sat among the distinguished spectators. he, too, had clapped his hands lustily, and shouted, "bravo!" never had he beheld any ropedancer display so much grace, strength, and daring. his modest protegee had become a magnificently developed woman. how could he have imagined that the unfortunate young creature whom he had saved from disgrace would show such courage, such rare skill? he confided his feelings, and the fact that he knew the artist, to his young neighbour, but she had turned deadly pale and lowered her eyes. while looking on she had felt as though she herself was in danger of falling into the depths. giddiness had seized her, and her heart, whose tendency to disease had long awakened the apprehension of the physicians, contracted convulsively. the sight of a fellow-being hovering in mortal peril above her head seemed unendurable. not until she followed lienhard's advice and avoided looking up, did she regain her calmness. her changeful temperament soon recovered its former cheerfulness, and the friend at her side to whom the lovely child, with her precocious mental development, appeared like the fairest marvel, took care, often as he himself looked upward, that she should be guarded from a second attack of weakness. the storm of applause from below, in which lienhard also joined, fanned the flames of desire for admiration in kuni's breast to a fiery glow. she would show him, too, what she could do--compel him to applaud her. she would force him away from the little temptress, and oblige him to gaze up at her whose art--she learned this daily--possessed the power to fix the attention of spectators like the thrall of the basilisk's eye. when on the rope she was no insignificant personage. he should tremble for her as did the gray-haired, scarred captain of the foot soldiers, mannsbach, the day before yesterday. he had told her that his heart had throbbed more anxiously during her daring feats than on the bloodiest field of battle. she moved forward more swiftly to the time of the lively dancing tune which the city pipers were playing. midway along the rope she turned, ran back to the cross-shaped trestle at the steeple window, handed the balancing pole to loni, and received a cage filled with doves. each one bore around its neck a note containing an expression of homage to the emperor maximilian, and they were all trained to alight near the richly decorated throne which was now occupied by the chivalrous monarch. the clown who, with a comical show of respect, offered her what she needed for her next feat, told her this. loni, sure of being heard by no unbidden ear, called to her from the window: "art is honoured to-day, my girl." the clown added jocosely: "who else was ever permitted to walk over the anointed head of our lord the emperor?" but kuni would not have needed such encouragement. doubtless she felt flattered by the consciousness of attracting even the sovereign's glance, but what she intended to do immediately was for the purpose of compelling another person to watch her steps with fear and admiration. crossing her feet, she threw back her garlanded head and drew a long breath. then she hastily straightened herself, and with the bird cage in one hand and the winged staff of mercury, which the clown had handed to her, in the other, she advanced to the centre of the rope. there she opened the cage as steadily as if she had been standing on the floor of her own room. the birds fluttered through the little door and went, with a swift flight, directly to their goal. then, below and beside her, from every place occupied by spectators, and from hundreds of windows, rose thunders of applause; but it seemed to her as if the roaring of the surging sea was in her ears. her heart throbbed under her pink silk bodice like an iron hammer, and in the proud consciousness of having probably attained already what she desired, and, besides thousands of other eyes, fixed lienhard's upon her as if with chains and bonds, she was seized with the ambitious desire to accomplish something still more amazing. the man to whom her heart clung, the emperor, the countless multitude below, were all at this time subject to her in heart and mind. they could think and feel nothing except what concerned her, her art, and her fate. she could and would show to lienhard, to the emperor, to all, what they had never witnessed. they should turn faint with sympathizing anxiety. she would make then realize what genuine art, skill, and daring could accomplish. everything else, even the desire for applause, was forgotten. though her performance might be called only a perilous feat, she felt it to be true, genuine art. her whole soul was merged in the desire to execute, boldly and yet gracefully, the greatest and most perfect performance attainable by a ropedancer. with beads of perspiration on her brow, and eyes uplifted, she threw the cage aside, swung her mercury staff aloft, and danced along the rope in waltz time, as though borne by the gods of the wind. whirling swiftly around, her slender figure darted in graceful curves from one end of the narrow path to the other. then the applause reached the degree of enthusiastic madness which she desired; even loni clapped his hands from the steeple window. she had never seen him do this to any of the company. yes, she must have accomplished her purpose well; but she would show him and the others something still more wonderful. what she had just done was capable of many additional feats; she had tried it. with fluttering hands and pulses she instantly loosed from her panting bosom and her hips the garland of roses and leaves twined about the upper portion of her body, and swung it around her in graceful curves as she knelt and rose on the rope. she had often jumped rope on the low rope, turning completely around so that she faced the other way. to repeat this performance on the one stretched to the steeple would certainly not be expected from her or from any other. suppose she should use the garland as a rope and venture to leap over it on this giddy height? suppose she should even succeed in turning around? the rope was firm. if her plan was successful, she would have accomplished something unprecedented; if she failed--if, while turning, she lost her balance--her scanty stock of pleasure here below would be over, and also her great grief and insatiable yearning. one thing was certain: lienhard would watch her breathlessly, nay, tremble for her. perhaps it was too much to hope that he would mourn her sincerely, should the leap cost her life; but he would surely pity her, and he could never forget the moment of the fall, and therefore herself. loni would tear the gold circlet from his dyed black locks and, in his exaggerated manner, call himself a son of misfortune, and her the greatest artist who had ever trodden the rope. all augsburg, all the dignitaries of the realm, even the emperor, would pity her, and the end of her life would be as proud and as renowned as that of the chivalrous hero who dies victor on the stricken field. if the early part of her life had been insignificant and wretched, its close should be grand and beautiful. long consideration was foreign to kuni's nature. while these thoughts were darting with the speed of lightning through her excited brain, she stripped from the garland, with the presence of mind which her calling teaches even in serious peril, the roses which might have caught her feet, and swung it in a wide circle above her. then nimbly, yet careful to maintain in every movement the grace without which the most difficult feat would have seemed to her valueless, she summoned all the strength and caution she possessed, went forward at a run, and--she did not know herself just how it was done--dared the leap over the rope once, twice, and the third and fourth time even accomplished the turn successfully. it had not once cost her an effort to maintain her balance. again she saw loni clapping his hands at the window, and the acclamations of the crowd, which echoed like peals of thunder from the lofty, gableroofed houses, informed her that the boldness of the venture and the skill with which she had performed it were appreciated by these spectators. true, she could not distinguish the voice of any individual, but she thought she knew that lienhard was one of those who shouted "bravo!" and clapped most loudly. he must have perceived now that she was something more than a poor thief of a rosary, a useless bread-eater in the schurstab household. she straightened the garland again and, while preparing to take another run, repeat the feat, and, if her buoyancy held out, try to whirl around twice, which she had never failed to accomplish on the low rope, she could not resist the temptation of casting a hasty glance at lienhard; she had never ascended to the steeple without looking at him. secure of herself, in the glad conciousness of success, she gazed down. there sat the illustrious maximilian, still clapping his hands. gratefully, yet with a passionate desire for fresh applause, the resolve to show him the very best which she could accomplish was strengthened. but the next moment the blood faded from her slightly rouged cheeks, for lienhard--was it possible, was it imaginable?--lienhard groland was not looking up at her! without moving his hands or vouchsafing her a single glance, he was gazing into the face of the little wearer of the laurel wreath, with whom he was eagerly talking. he was under her thrall, body and soul. yet it could not be, she could not have seen distinctly. she must look down once more, to correct the error. she did so, and a torturing anguish seized her heart. he was chatting with the child as before; nay, with still more warmth. as he now saw nothing which was happening upon the rope, he had probably also failed to heed what she had performed, dared, accomplished, mainly for his sake, at the peril of her life, on the dizzy height. his wife was still clapping her hands at his side, but lienhard, as though deaf and blind to everything else, was gazing at the page which the miserable little elf was just giving him. there was certainly writing on it--perhaps a charm which rendered him subject to her. how else could he have brought himself to overlook so unkindly herself and her art--the best she had to bestow--for the sake of this child? then, besides the keenest sorrow, a fierce, burning hate took possession of her soul. she had not appealed to her saint for years; but now, in a brief, ejaculatory prayer, she besought her to drive this child from lienhard, punish her with misery, suffering, and destruction. a sharp pang which she had never before experienced pierced her to the heart. the pure, sunny air which she inhaled on her lofty height seemed like acrid smoke, and forced tears into the eyes which had not wept for many a long day. as, not knowing exactly what she was doing, with her ears deafened by the shouts of the crowd, among whom lienhard now, with anxious suspense, watched her every movement, she again raised the rope and prepared to spring, she fancied that her narrow path rose higher and higher. one more step, and suddenly, with loui's shriek of horror and the clown's terrified "jesus and mary, she is falling!" ringing on the air, she felt as if the rope had parted directly in front of her. then a hurricane appeared to howl around her, bearing her away she knew not whither. it seemed as though the tempest had seized the ends of the rope, and was dealing terrible blows with them upon her shoulders, her back, and her feet. meanwhile the little wearer of the wreath was lying on a black cloud opposite to her at lienhard's feet. she still held the sheet in her hand, and was shouting to the angry elements the magic formulas which it contained. their power kuni knew it--had unchained them. lienhard's deep voice mingled with her furious cries until the roar of the sea, on whose rocky shore the hurricane must have dashed her, drowned every other sound, and rolled over her, sometimes in scorching crimson, sometimes in icy crystal waves. then, for a long time, she saw and heard nothing more. when her deadened imagination again began to stir, she fancied that she was struggling with a huge crab, which was cutting her foot with shears. the little elf was urging it on, as the huntsmen cheer the hounds. the pain and hate she felt would have been intolerable if lienhard had made common cause with the terrible child. but he reproved her conduct, and even struggled with the kobold who tried to prevent his releasing her from the crab. the elf proved stronger than he. the terrible shears continued to torture her. the more she suffered, the more eagerly lienhard seemed trying to help her, and this soothed her and blended a sweet sense of comfort with the burning pain. chapter vi. kuni remained under the spell of these delusions for many days and nights. when she at last regained her senses, she was lying on a plain couch in a long, whitewashed hall. the well-scoured floor was strewn with sand and pine needles. other beds stood beside hers. on one wall hung a large wooden crucifix, painted with glaring colours; on the other a touching picture of the mater dolorosa, with the swords in her heart, looked down upon her. beside kuni's pallet stood a gray sister and an elderly man, evidently a physician. his long black robe, tall dark cap, and gold headed cane bore witness to it. bending forward, with eyeglasses on his prominent nose, he gazed intently into her face. her return to consciousness seemed to please him, and he showed himself to be a kind, experienced leech. with tireless solicitude he strove to cure the numerous injuries which she had received, and she soon learned through him and the nun, that she had fallen from the rope and escaped death as if by a miracle. the triumphal arch under her, and the garlands which decorated the wooden structure, had caught her before she touched the pavement. true, her right leg was broken, and it had been necessary to amputate her left foot in order to save her life. many a wound and slash on her breast and head also needed healing, and her greatest ornament, her long, thick, dark hair, had been cut off. why had they called her, the ropedancer, back to a life which henceforward could offer her nothing save want and cruel suffering? she uttered this reproach to her preservers very indignantly; but as the physician saw her eating a bunch of grapes with much enjoyment, he asked if this pleasure did not suffice to make her rejoice over the preservation of her existence. there were a thousand similar gifts of god, which scarcely seemed worthy of notice, yet in the aggregate outweighed a great sorrow which, moreover, habit daily diminished. the sister tried, by other arguments, to reconcile her to the life which had been preserved, but the words her devout heart inspired and which were intended for a pious soul, produced little influence upon the neglected child of the highroad. kuni felt most deeply the reference to the sorely afflicted mother of god. if such sorrow had been sent to the noblest and purest of mortals, through whom god had deigned to give his divine son to the world, what grief could be too great for her, the wandering vagabond? she often silently repeated this to herself; yet only too frequently her impetuous heart rebelled against the misery which she felt that she would encounter. but many weeks were to pass before she recovered; a severe relapse again endangered her life. during the first days of illness she had talked to lienhard in her fevered visions, called him by name, and warned him against the spiteful elf who would ruin him. frequently, too, oaths and horrible, coarse imprecations, such as are heard only from the mouths of the vagrants among whom she had grown to womanhood, fell from her burning lips. when she improved, the leech asked in the jesting tone which elderly men are fond of using to young women whose heart secrets they think they have detected, what wrong her lover had done her. the sister, nay, even the abbess, wished to learn what she meant by the wicked witch whom she had mentioned with such terrible curses during the ravings of the fever, but she made no reply. in fact, she said very little, and her nurses thought her a reserved creature with an obdurate nature; for she obstinately rejected the consolations of religion. only to her confessor, a kind old priest, who knew how to discover the best qualities in every one, did she open her heart so far as to reveal that she loved the husband of another and had once wished evil, ay, the very worst evil, to a neighbour. but since the sin had been committed only in thought, the kindly guardian of her conscience was quickly disposed to grant her absolution if, as a penance, she would repeat a goodly number of paternosters and undertake a pilgrimage. if she had had sound feet, she ought to have journeyed to santiago di compostella; but, since her condition precluded this, a visit to altotting in bavaria would suffice. but kuni by no means desired any mitigation of the penance. she silently resolved to undertake the pilgrimage to compostella, at the world's end,--[cape finisterre]--in distant spain, though she did not know how it would be possible to accomplish this with her mutilated foot. not even to her kind confessor did she reveal this design. the girl who had relied upon herself from childhood, needed no explanation, no confidante. therefore, during the long days and nights which she was obliged to spend in bed, she pondered still more constantly upon her own past. that she had been drawn and was still attracted to lienhard with resistless power, was true; yet whom, save herself, had this wounded or injured? on the other hand, it had assuredly been a heavy sin that she had called down such terrible curses upon the child. still, even now she might have had good reason to execrate the wearer of the wreath; for she alone, not lienhard, was the sole cause of her misfortune. her prayer on the rope that the saints would destroy the hated child, and the idea which then occupied her mind, that she was really a grown maiden, whose elfin delicacy of figure was due to her being one of the fays or elves mentioned in the fairy tales, had made a deep impression upon her memory. whenever she thought of that supplication she again felt the bitterness she had tasted on the rope. though she believed herself justified in hating the little mischief-maker, the prayer uttered before her fall did not burden her soul much less heavily than a crime. suppose the sister was right, and that the saints heard every earnest petition? she shuddered at the thought. the child was so young, so delicate. though she had caused her misfortune, the evil was not done intentionally. such thoughts often induced kuni to clasp her hands and pray to the saint not to fulfil the prayer she uttered at that time; but she did not continue the petition long, a secret voice whispered that every living creature--man and beast--felt the impulse to inflict a similar pang on those who caused suffering, and that she, who believed the whole world wicked, need not be better than the rest. meanwhile she longed more and more eagerly to know the name of the little creature that had brought so much trouble upon her, and whether she was still forcing herself between lienhard and his beautiful wife. as soon as she was able to talk again, she began her inquiries. the sister, who was entirely absorbed in her calling and never left the scene of her wearisome toil, had little to tell; but the leech and the priest, in reply to her questions concerning what had happened during the period of her unconsciousness, informed her that the emperor had ordered that she should receive the most careful nursing, and had bestowed a donation upon the convent for the purpose. he had thought of her future, too. when she recovered, she would have the five heller pounds which the generous sovereign had left for her as a partial compensation for the injuries sustained while employing her rare skill for the delight of the multitude and, above all, himself. a wealthy nuremberg honourable, lienhard groland, a member of the council, had also interested himself in her and deposited the same amount with the abbess, in case she should recover the use of her limbs and did not prefer to spend the remainder of her life here, though only as a lay sister. in that case he would be ready to defray the cost of admission. "that the lofty convent walls might rise between him and the sight of me!" kuni said to herself at this information, with a bitter smile. on the--other hand, her eyes filled with tears of genuine emotion and sincere shame, when she learned from the leech that herr lienhard groland's lovely wife had come daily to the convent to inquire about her, and had even honoured her couch with a visit several times. she did not remain absent until one day, in the noble lady's presence, kuni, when her fever was fiercest, loaded the wearer of the wreath, whom her delirium often brought before her as a nightmare, with the most savage and blasphemous curses. the gracious young wife was overwhelmed with horror, which had doubtless prevented her return, unless her absence was due to departure from the city. besides, she had committed the care of inquiring about her convalescence to an aristocratic friend in augsburg, the wife of the learned city clerk, doctor peutinger, a member of the famous welser family of augsburg. the latter had often inquired for her in person, until the illness of her own dear child had kept her at home. yet, in spite of this, her housekeeper had appeared the day before to inform the abbess that, if the injured girl should recover and wished to lead a respectable life in future, she might be sure of a welcome and easy duties in her own household. this surely ought to be a great comfort to kuni, the physician added; for she could no longer pursue rope-dancing, and the peutingers were lavishly endowed with worldly goods and intellectual gifts, and, besides, were people of genuine christian spirit. the convent, too, would be ready to receive her--the abbess had told him so--if herr groland, of nuremberg, kept his promise of paying her admission dues. all these things awakened a new world of thoughts and feelings in the convalescent. that they ought, above all, to have aroused sincere gratitude, she felt keenly, yet she could not succeed in being especially thankful. it would be doing lienhard a favour, she repeated to herself, if she should enter a convent, and she would rather have sought shelter in a lion's den than under the peutinger roof. she had been informed the day before that the city clerk's wife was the mother of the child upon whom she had called down misfortune and death. the keeper of an augsburg bath-house, who had burned herself with boiling water, occupied the next bed. she was recovering, and was a talkative woman, whose intrusive loquacity at first annoyed kuni, nay, when she could not silence it, caused her pain. but her conversation soon revealed that she knew every stick and stone in her native city. kuni availed herself of this, and did not need to ask many questions to learn everything that she desired to know about the little begarlanded elf. she was juliane, the young daughter of herr conrad peutinger, the city clerk--a girl of unusual cleverness, and a degree of learning never before found in a child eleven years old. the bath-house keeper had many wonderful stories to relate of her remarkable wisdom, with which even highly educated men could not vie. in doing so, she blamed the father and mother, who had been unnatural parents to the charming child; for to make the marvel complete, and to gratify their own vanity, they had taxed the little girl's mind with such foolish strenuousness that the frail body suffered. she had heard this in her own bath-house from the lips of the child's aunt and from other distinguished friends of the welsers and peutingers. unfortunately, these sensible women proved to have been right; for soon after the close of the reichstag, juliane was attacked by a lingering illness, from which rumour now asserted that she would never recover. some people even regarded the little girl's sickness as a just punishment of god, to whom the constant devotion of the father and his young daughter to the old pagans and their ungodly writings must have given grave offence. this news increased to the utmost the anxiety from which kuni had long suffered. often as she thought of lienhard, she remembered still more frequently that it was she, who had prayed for sickness to visit the child of a mother, who had so kindly offered her, the strolling player, whom good women usually shunned, the shelter of her distinguished house. the consciousness of owing a debt of gratitude to those, against whom she had sinned so heavily, oppressed her. the kind proposal of the sick child's mother seemed like a mockery. it was painful even to hear the name of peutinger. besides, the further she advanced toward recovery, the more unendurable appeared the absence of liberty. the kind efforts of the abbess to keep her in the cloister, and teach her to make herself useful there by sewing, were unsuccessful; for she could not turn the spinning wheel on account of her amputated foot, and she had neither inclination nor patience for the finer branches of needlework. those who charged her with a lamentable lack of perseverance were right; the linen which she began to hem fell into her lap only too soon. when her eyes--which could see nothing here except a small walled yard--closed while she was working, the others thought that she was asleep; but her mind remained awake, though she had lowered her lids, and it wandered restlessly over valleys rivers, and mountains through the wide, wide world. she saw herself in imagination travelling along the highway with nimble jugglers merry musicians, and other care-free vagrant folk, instead of plying the needle. even the whirling dust, the rushing wind, and the refreshing rain outside seemed desirable compared with the heavy convent air impregnated by a perpetual odour of lavender. when at last, in the month of march, little afra, the fair-haired niece of the portress, brought her the first snowdrop, and kuni saw a pair of starlings enter the box on the budding linden before her window, she could no longer bear her imprisonment in the convent. within these walls she must fade, perhaps die and return to dust. in spite of all the warnings, representations, entreaties, and promises of those who--she gratefully perceived it--meant well toward her, she persisted in her desire to be dismissed, to live out of doors as she had always done. at last they paid her what was due, but she accepted only the emperor's bounty, proudly refusing lienhard groland's money, earnestly as she was urged to add it to the other and to the viaticum bestowed by the nuns. chapter vii. the april sun was shining brightly when the convent gates closed behind kuni. the lindens in the square were already putting forth young leaves, the birds were singing, and her heart swelled more joyously than it had done for many years. true, the cough which had tormented her all winter attacked her in the shady cloister, but she had learned to use her wooden foot, and with a cane in one hand and her little bundle in the other she moved sturdily on. after making her pilgrimage to compostella, she intended to seek her old employer, loni. perhaps he could give her a place as crier, or if the cough prevented that, in collecting the money or training the children. he was a kind-hearted man. if he were even tolerably prosperous he would certainly let her travel with the band, and give the girl who was injured in his service the bit of food she required. besides, in former days, when she scattered gold with lavish hands, he had predicted what had now befallen her, and when he left augsburg he had asked the nuns to tell her that if she should ever be in want she must remember loni. with the emperor's five heller pounds, and the two florins which she had received as a viaticum from the convent, she could journey a long distance through the world; for there were plenty of carriers and travellers with carts and wagons who would take her for a trifle, and the vagabonds on the highway rarely left people like her in the lurch. probably, in former days, she had looked forward to the future with greater strength and different expectations, yet, even as it was, in spite of the cough and the painful pricking in her scars, she found it pleasant so long as she was free and could follow whatever way she chose. she knew the city, and limped through the streets and alleys toward the tavern where the strolling players usually lodged. on the way she met a gentleman in a suit of light armour, whom she recognised in the distance as the knight of neckerfels, who had been paying court to her before her fall. he was walking alone and looked her directly in the face, but he did not have the slightest idea that he had met madcap kuni. it was only too evident that he supposed her to be a total stranger. yet it would have been impossible for any one to recognise her. mirrors were not allowed in the convent, but a bright new tin plate had showed her her emaciated face with the broad scar on the forehead, the sunken eyes, and the whole narrow head, where the hair, which grew out again very slowly, was just an ugly length. now the sight of the bony hand which grasped the cane brought a half-sorrowful, half-scornful, smile to her lips. her arm had been plump and round, but was now little larger than a stick. pretty kuni, the ropedancer, no longer existed; she must become accustomed to have the world regard her as a different and far less important personage, whom lienhard, too--and this was fortunate --would not have deemed worthy of a glance. and yet, if the inner self is the true one, there was little change in her. her soul was moved by the same feelings, only there was now a touch of bitterness. one great advantage of her temperament, it is true, had vanished with her physical beauty and strength--the capacity to hope for happiness and joy. perhaps it would never return; an oppressive feeling of guilt, usually foreign to her careless nature, had oppressed her ever since she had heard recently in the convent that the child on whom she had called down death and destruction was lying hopelessly ill, and would scarcely live till the joyous whitsuntide. this now came back to her mind. the jubilant sense of freedom deserted her; she walked thoughtfully on until she reached the neighbourhood of jacob fugger's house. a long funeral procession was moving slowly toward her. some very exalted and aristocratic person must be taking the journey to the grave, for it was headed by all the clergy in the city. choristers, in the most elaborate dress, swinging incense holders by delicate metal chains and bearing lanterns on long poles, surrounded the lofty cross. every one of distinction in augsburg, all the children who attended school, and all the members of the various ecclesiastical orders and guilds in the city marched before the bier. kuni had never seen such a funeral procession. perhaps the one she witnessed in milan, when a great nobleman was buried, was longer, but in this every individual seemed to feel genuine grief. even the schoolboys who, on such solemn occasions, usually play all sorts of secret pranks, walked as mournfully as if each had lost some relative who was specially dear to him. among the girls there were few whose rosy cheeks were not constantly wet with tears. from the first kuni had believed that she knew who was being borne to the grave. now she heard several women whispering near her mention the name of juliane peutinger. a pale-faced gold embroiderer, who had recently bordered a gala dress with leaves and tendrils for the dead girl's sister, described, sobbing, the severe suffering amid which this fairest blossom of augsburg girlhood had withered ere death finally broke the slender stem. suddenly she stopped; a cry of mingled astonishment, lamentation, and delight, sometimes rising, sometimes falling, ran through the crowd which had gathered along the sides of the street. the bier was in sight. twelve youths bore the framework, covered with a richly embroidered blue cloth, on which the coffin rested. it was open, and the dead girl's couch was so high that it seemed as though the sleeper was only resting lightly on the white silk pillow. a wreath again encircled her head, but this time blossoming myrtles blended with the laurel in the brown curls that lay in thick, soft locks on the snowy pillows and the lacetrimmed shroud. juliane's eyes were closed. ah! how gladly kuni would have kissed those long-lashed lids to win even one look of forgiveness from her whom her curse had perhaps snatched from the green spring world! she remembered the sunny radiance with which this sleeper's eyes had sparkled as they met lienhard's. they were the pure mirror of the keen, mobile intellect and the innocent, loving soul of this rare child. now death had closed them, and juliane's end had been one of suffering. the pale embroiderer had said so, and the sorrowful droop of the sweet little mouth, which gave the wondrously beautiful, delicate, touching little face so pathetic an expression, betrayed it. if the living girl had measured her own young intellect with that of grown people, and her face had worn the impress of precocious maturity, now it was that of a charming child who had died in suffering. kuni also felt this, and asked herself how it had been possible for her heart to cherish such fierce hatred against this little one, who had numbered only eleven years. but had this juliane resembled other children? no, no! no emperor's daughter of her age would have been accompanied to the churchyard with such pageantry, such deep, universal grief. she had been the jewel of a great city. this was proclaimed by many a greek and latin maxim on tablets borne by the friends of the great humanist who, with joyful pride, called her his daughter. kuni could not read, but she heard at least one sentence translated by a benedictine monk to the nun at his side: "he whose death compels those who knew him to weep, has the fairest end."--[seneca, hippol., 881.] if this were true, juliane's end was indeed fair; for she herself, whom the child had met only to inflict pain, had her eyes dimmed by tears, and wherever she turned she saw people weeping. most of those who lined the street could have had no close relations with the dead girl. but yonder black-robed mourners who followed the bier were her parents, her brothers and sisters, her nearest relatives, the members of the council, and the family servants. and she, the wretched, reckless, sinful, crippled strolling player, for whom not a soul on earth cared, whose death would not have drawn even a single tear from any eye, to whom a speedy end could be only a benefit, was perhaps the cause of the premature drying up of this pure fountain of joy, which had refreshed so many hearts and animated them with the fairest hopes. the tall lady, whose noble face and majestic figure were shrouded in a thick veil, was juliane's mother--and she had offered the sick ropedancer a home in her wealthy household. "if she had only known," thought kuni, "the injury i was inflicting upon her heart's treasure, she would rather have hunted me with dogs from her threshold." in spite of the veil which floated around the stately figure of the grieving mother, she could see her bosom rise and fall with her sobs of anguish. kuni's compassionate heart made it impossible for her to watch this sorrow longer, and, covering her face with her hands, she turned her back upon the procession and, weeping aloud, limped away as fast as her injured foot would let her. meanwhile she sometimes said to herself that she was the worst of all sinners because she had cursed the dead girl and called down death and destruction upon her head, sometimes she listened to the voice within, which told her that she had no reason to grieve over juliane's death, and completely embitter her already wretched life by remorse and self-accusations; the dead girl was the sole cause of her terrible fall. but the defiant rebellion against the consciousness of guilt, which moved her so deeply, always ceased abruptly as soon as it raised its head; for one fact was positive, if the curse she had called down upon the innocent child, who had done her no intentional wrong, had really caused juliane's end, a whole life was not long enough to atone for the sin which she had committed. yet what atonement was still in her power, after the death which she had summoned had performed its terrible work of executioner? "nothing, nothing at all!" she said to herself angrily, resolving, as she had so often done with better success, to forget what had happened, cast the past into oblivion, and live in the present as before. but ere she could attempt to fulfil this determination, the image of the tall, griefbowed figure of the woman who had called juliane her dear child rose before her mind, and it seemed as if a cold, heavy hand paralyzed the wings of the light-hearted temperament which had formerly borne her pleasantly over so many things. then she told herself that, in order not to go to perdition herself, she must vow, sacrifice, undertake everything for the salvation of the dead girl and of her own heavily burdened soul. for the first time she felt a longing to confide her feelings to some one. if lienhard had been within reach and disposed to listen to her, he would have understood, and known what course to advise. true, the thought that he was not looking at her when she took the fatal leap still haunted her. he could not have showed more offensively how little he cared for her--but perhaps he was under the influence of a spell; for she must be something to him. this was no vain selfdeception; had it not been so, would he have come in person to her couch of pain, or cared for her so kindly after the accident? in the convent she had reached the conviction that it would be degrading to think longer of the man who, in return for the most ardent love, offered nothing but alms in jingling coin; yet her poor heart would not cease its yearning. meanwhile she never wearied of seeking motives that would place his conduct in a more favourable light. whatever he might have withheld from her, he was nevertheless the best and noblest of men, and as she limped aimlessly on, the conviction strengthened that the mere sight of him would dispel the mists which, on this sunny spring day, seemed to veil everything around and within her. but he remained absent, and suddenly it seemed more disgraceful to seek him than to stand in the stocks. yet the pilgrimage to compostella, of which the confessor had spoken? for the very reason that it had been described to her as unattainable, it would perhaps be rated at a high value in heaven, and restore to her while on earth the peace she had lost. she pondered over this thought on her way to the tavern, where she found a corner to sleep, and a carrier who, on the day after the morrow, would take her to the sea for a heller pound. other pilgrims had also engaged passage at antwerp for corunna, the harbour of compostella, and her means were sufficient for the voyage. this assurance somewhat soothed her while she remained among people of her own calling. but she spent a sleepless night; for again and again the dead child's image appeared vividly before her. rising from the soft pillows in the coffin, she shook her finger threateningly at her, or, weeping and wailing, pointed down to the flames--doubtless those of purgatory--which were blazing upward around her, and had already caught the hem of her shroud. kuni arose soon after sunrise with a bewildered brain. before setting out on her pilgrimage she wished to attend mass, and--that the holy virgin might be aware of her good intentions--repeat in church some of the paternosters which her confessor had imposed. she went out with the simple rosary that the abbess had given her upon her wrist, but when she had left the tavern behind she saw a great crowd in front of the new st. ulrich's church, and recognised among the throngs of people who had flocked thither her companion in suffering at the convent, the keeper of the bath-house, who had been cured of her burns long before. she had left her business to buy an indulgence for her own sins, and to purchase for the soul of her husband--whose death-bed confession, it is true, had been a long one--for the last time, but for many centuries at once, redemption from the fires of purgatory. the dominican friar tetzel, from nuremberg, was here with his coffer, and carried written promises which secured certain remission of punishment for all sins, even those committed long ago, or to be committed in the future. the woman had experienced the power of his papers herself. tetzel had come to augsburg about a year after her husband's death, and, as she knew how many sins he had committed, she put her hand into her purse to free him from the flames. they must have burned very fiercely; for, while awake at night and in her dreams, she had often heard him wailing and complaining piteously. but after she bought the paper he became quiet and, on the third night, she saw him with her own eyes enter the room, and heard him promise her a great happiness in return for her faithful remembrance. the very next sunday, veit haselnuss, the bath-house proprietor, a wellto-do man who owned another house besides the one where he lived, invited her to take a walk with him. she knew instantly that her late husband was beginning to pay his debt of gratitude with this visitor and, in fact, a short time after, the worthy man asked her to be his wife, though she had three little children, and his oldest daughter by his first wife was already able to look after the housekeeping. the wedding took place on whitsunday, and she owed this great happiness entirely to the dispensation which had released the dead man's soul from the fires of purgatory and induced him to show his thankfulness. kuni listened to her companion's rapid flood of talk, until she herself enjoined silence to hear the black-robed priest who stood beside the coffer. he was just urging his hearers, in a loud voice, to abandon the base avarice which gathers pence. there was still time to gain, in exchange for dead florins, living salvation. let those who repented sin listen, and they would hear the voices of wailing parents, husbands, wives, brothers, sisters, and children, who had preceded them to the other world. whose heart was so utterly turned to stone, whose parsimony, spite of all his love of money, was so strong that he would allow these tortured souls to burn and suffer in the flames, when it was in his power, by putting his hand into his purse, to buy a dispensation which would as surely redeem them from the fires of purgatory as his imperial majesty's pardon would release an imprisoned thief from jail? scales seemed to fall from kuni's eyes. she hastily forced her way to the dominican, who was just wiping the perspiration from his brow with the hem of the white robe under his black cowl. coughing and panting, he was preparing his voice for a fresh appeal, meanwhile opening the iron-bound box, and pointing out to the throng the placard beside his head, which announced that the money obtained by the indulgences was intended for the turkish war. then, in fluent language, he explained to the bystanders that this meant that the holy father in rome intended to drive the hereditary foe of christianity back to the steppes and deserts of the land of asia, where he belonged. in order to accomplish this work, so pleasing to the lord, the church was ready to make lavish use of the treasures of mercy intrusted to her. deliverance from the flames of purgatory would never be more cheaply purchased than at this opportunity. then he thrust his little fat hand, on which several valuable rings glittered, into the box, and held out to the bystanders a small bundle of papers like an open pack of cards. kuni summoned up her courage and asked whether they would also possess the power to remove a curse. tetzel eagerly assented, adding that he had papers which would wash the soul as white from every sin as soap would cleanse a sooty hand, even though, instead of "curse," its name was "parricide." the most costly had the power to transfer scoundrels roasting in the hottest flames of purgatory to the joys of paradise, as yonder sparrow had just soared from the dust of the street to the elm bough. kuni timidly asked the price of an indulgence, but the dominican unctuously explained that they were not sold like penny rolls at the baker's; the heavier the sin, the higher the fine to be paid. first of all, she must confess sincere contrition for what had been done and inform him how, in spite of her youth, she had been led into such heinous guilt. kuni replied that she had long mourned her error most deeply, and then began to whisper to tetzel how she had been induced to curse a fellow-mortal. she desired nothing for herself. her sole wish was to release the dead girl from the flames of purgatory, and the curse which, by her guilt, burdened her soul. but the dominican had only half listened, and as many who wanted indulgences were crowding around his box, he interrupted kuni by offering her a paper which he would make out in the name of the accursed juliane peutinger--if he had heard correctly. such cases seemed to be very familiar to him, but the price he asked was so large that the girl grew pale with terror. yet she must have the redeeming paper, and tetzel lowered his price after her declaration that she possessed only five heller pounds and the convent viaticum. besides, she stated that she had already bargained with the carrier for the journey to the sea. this, however, had no influence upon the dominican, as the indulgence made the pilgrimage to compostella unnecessary. since it would redeem the accursed person from the fires of purgatory, she, too, was absolved from the vow which drew her thither. with stern decision he therefore insisted upon demanding the entire sum in her possession. he could only do it so cheaply because her face and her lost foot showed that she was destined to suffer part of the eternal torture here on earth. then kuni yielded. the paper was made out in the name of juliane, she gave up her little store, and returned to the inn a penniless beggar, but with a lighter heart, carrying the precious paper under the handkerchief crossed over her bosom. but there the carrier refused her a seat without the money which she had promised him, and the landlord demanded payment for her night's lodging and the bit of food she had eaten. should she go back to the convent and ask for the little sum which lienhard had left there for her? the struggle was a hard one, but pride finally conquered. she renounced the kindly meant gift of her only friend. when the abbess returned the money to him, he could not help perceiving that she was no beggar and scorned to be his debtor. if he then asked himself why, he would find the right answer. she did not confess it to herself in plain words, but she wished to remain conscious that, whether he desired it or not, she had given her heart's best love to this one man without reward, merely because it was her pleasure to do it. at last she remembered that she still possessed something valuable. she had not thought of it before, because it had been as much a part of herself as her eyes or her lips, and it would have seemed utterly impossible to part with it. this article was a tolerably heavy gold ring, with a sparkling ruby in the centre. she had drawn it from her father's finger after he had taken his last leap and she was called to his corpse. she did not even know whether he had received the circlet as a wedding ring from the mother of whom she had no remembrance, or where he obtained it. but she had heard that it was of considerable value, and when she set off to sell the jewel, she did not find it very hard to gave it up. it seemed as if her father, from the grave, was providing his poor child with the means she needed to continue to support her life. she had heard in the convent of graslin, the goldsmith, who had bestowed on the chapel a silver shrine for the relics, and went to him. when she stood before the handsome gableroofed house which he occupied she shrank back a little. at first he received her sternly and repellantly enough, but, as soon as she introduced herself as the ropedancer who had met with the accident, he showed himself to be a kindly old gentleman. after one of the city soldiers had said that she told the truth and had just been dismissed from the convent, he paid her the full value of the ring and added a florin out of sympathy and the admiration he felt for the charm which still dwelt in her sparkling blue eyes. but compostella was indeed far away. her new supply of money was sufficient for the journey there, but how could she return? besides, her cough troubled her very seriously, and it seemed as though she could not travel that long distance alone. the dealer in indulgences had said that the paper made the pilgrimage unnecessary, and the confessor in the convent had only commanded her to go to altotting. with this neighbouring goal before her, she turned her back upon augsburg the following morning. her hope of meeting on the way compassionate people, who would give her a seat in their vehicles, was fulfilled. she reached altotting sooner than she had expected. during the journey, sometimes in a peasant's cart, sometimes in a freight wagon, she had thought often of little juliane, and always with a quiet, nay, a contented heart. in the famous old church, at the end of her pilgrimage, she saw a picture in which the raked souls of children were soaring upward to heaven from the flames blazing around them in purgatory. the confessor had sent her to the right place. here a fervent prayer had the power to rescue a child's soul from the fires of purgatory. many other votive pictures, the pilgrims at the inn, and a priest whom she questioned, confirmed it. she also heard from various quarters that she had not paid too high a price for the indulgence. this strengthened her courage and henceforward, nay, even during the time of sore privation which she afterward endured, she blessed a thousand times her resolve to buy the ransoming paper from tetzel, the dominican; for she thought that she daily experienced its power. whenever juliane appeared, her face wore a friendly expression--nay, once, in a dream, she floated before her as if she wished to thank her, in the form of a beautiful angel with large pink and white wings. she no longer needed to fear the horrible curse which she had called down upon the little one, and once more thought of lienhard with pleasure. when he learned in the other world how she had atoned for the wrong which she had done his little favourite, she would be sure of his praise. to be held in light esteem, nay, even despised, was part of her calling, like her constant wandering. she had longed for applause in her art, but for herself she had desired nothing save swift draughts of pleasure, since she had learned how little she was regarded by the only person whose opinion she valued. she could never have expected that he would hold her in high esteem, since he was so indifferent to her art that he did not even think it worth while to lift his eyes to the rope. yet the idea that he placed her in the same rank with others in her profession seemed unendurable. but she need grieve over this no longer, and when she remembered that even the sorest want had not been able to induce her to touch his alms, she could have fairly shouted for joy amid all her misery. the conviction that one man, who was the best and noblest of his sex, might deem her a poor, unfortunate girl, but never a creature who deserved contempt, was the beam to which she clung, when the surges of her pitiable, wandering life threatened to close over her and stifle her. etext editor's bookmarks: buy indugence for sins to be committed in the future mirrors were not allowed in the convent this ebook was produced by david widger <widger@cecomet.net> [note: there is a short list of bookmarks, or pointers, at the end of the file for those who may wish to sample the author's ideas before making an entire meal of them. d.w.] the bride of the nile by georg ebers volume 10. chapter xiii. the vekeel, like the persian lovers, did not allow the heat of the day to interfere with his plans. he regarded the governor's house as his own; all he found there aroused, not merely his avarice, but his interest. his first object was to find some document which might justify his proceedings against orion and the sequestration of his estates, in the eyes of the authorities at medina. great schemes were brewing there; if the conspiracy against the khaliff omar should succeed, he had little to fear; and the greater the sum he could ere long forward to the new sovereign, the more surely he could count on his patronage--a sum exceeding, if possible, the largest which his predecessor had ever cast into the khaliff's treasury. he went from room to room with the curiosity and avidity of a child, touching everything, testing the softness of the pillows, peeping into scrolls which he did not understand, tossing them aside, smelling at the perfumes in the dead woman's rooms, and the medicines she had used. he showed his teeth with delight when he found in her trunks some costly jewels and gold coins, stuck the finest of her diamond rings on his finger, already covered with gems, and then eagerly searched every corner of the rooms which orion had occupied. his interpreter, who could read greek, had to translate every document he found that did not contain verses. while he listened, he clawed and strummed on the young man's lyre and poured out the scented oil which orion had been wont to use to smear it over his beard. in front of the bright silver mirror he could not cease from making faces. to his great disgust he could find nothing among the hundred objects and trifles that lay about to justify suspicion, till, just as he was leaving the room, he noticed in a basket near the writing-table some discarded tablets. he at once pointed them out to the interpreter and, though there was but little to read on the diptychon,--[double writing-tablets, which folded together]--it seemed important to the negro for it ran as follows: "orion, the son of george, to paula the daughter of thomas! "you have heard already that it is now impossible for me to assist in the rescue of the nuns. but do not misunderstand me. your noble, and only too well-founded desire to lend succor to your fellow-believers would have sufficed. . ." from this point the words written on the wax were carefully effaced, and hardly a letter was decipherable; indeed, there were so few lines that it seemed as though the letter had never been ended-which was the fact. though it gave the vekeel no inculpating evidence against orion it pointed to his connection with the guilty parties: paula, doubtless, had been concerned in the scheme which had cost the lives of so many brave moslems. the negro had learnt, through the money-changer at fostat, that she was on terms of close intimacy with the mukaukas' son and had entrusted her property to his stewardship. they must both be accused as accomplices in the deed, and the document proved orion's knowledge of it, at any rate. plotinus, the bishop, at whose instigation the fugitives had been chased, could fill up what the damsel might choose to conceal. he had started to follow the patriarch immediately after the pursuers had set out, and had only returned from upper egypt early on the previous day. on his arrival he had forwarded to the vekeel two indictments brought against orion by the prelate: the first relating to the evasion of the nuns; the other to the embezzlement of a costly emerald; the rightful property of the church. these accusations were what had encouraged the negro to confiscate the young man's estate, particularly as the bitter tone of the patriarch's document sufficiently proved that in him he had found an ally. paula must next be placed in safe custody, and he had no doubt whatever that her statement would incriminate orion in some degree. he would gladly have cross-examined her at once, but he had other matters in hand to-day. the longest part of his task was ransacking the treasurer's office; nilus himself had to conduct the search. everything which he pointed out as a legal document, title-deed, contract for purchase or sale, revenue account or the like, was at once placed in oxcarts or on camels, with the large sums of gold and silver coin, and carried across the river under a strong escort. all the more antique deeds and the family archives, the vekeel left untouched. he was indeed an indefatigable man, for although these details kept him busy the whole day, he allowed himself no rest nor did he once ask for the refreshment of food or a cooling draught. as the day went on he enquired again and again for the bishop, with increasing impatience and irritation. it would have been his part to wait on the patriarch, but who was plotinus? thin-skinned, like all up-starts in authority, he took the bishop's delay as an act of personal contumely. but the shepherd of the flock at memphis was not a haughty prelate, but a very humble and pious minister. his superior, the patriarch, had entrusted him with an important mission to amru or his lieutenant, and yet he could let the vekeel wait in vain, and not even send him a message of explanation; in the afternoon, however, his old housekeeper dispatched the acolyte who was attached to his person to seek philippus. her master, a hale and vigorous man, had gone to bed by broad day-light a few hours after his return home, and had not again left it. he was hot and thirsty, and did not seem fully conscious of where he was or of what was happening. plotinus had always maintained that prayer was the christian's best medicine; still, as his poor body had become alarmingly heated the old woman ventured to send for the physician; but the messenger came back saying that philippus was absent on a journey. this was in fact the case: he had quitted memphis in obedience to a letter from haschim. the merchant's unfortunate son was not getting better. there seemed to be an injury to some internal organ, which threatened his life. the anxious father besought the leech, in whom he had the greatest confidence, to hasten to djidda, there to examine the sufferer and undertake the case. at the same time he desired that rustem should join him as soon as his health would permit. this letter--which ended with greetings to paula, for whose father he was making diligent search--agitated philippus greatly. how could he leave memphis at a time of such famine and sickness?--and dame joanna and her daughter! on the other hand he was much drawn to get away on paula's account--away, far away; and then how gladly would he do his best to save that fine old man's son. in spite of all this he would have remained, but that his old friend, quite unexpectedly, took haschim's side of the question and implored him to make the journey. he would make it his business and his pleasure to take charge of the women in rufinus' house; philip's assistant could fill his place at the bedside of many of the sick, and the rest could die without him. had not he himself said that there was no remedy for the disease? again, philip had said not long since that there could be no peace for him within reach of paula: here was a favorable opportunity for escape without attracting remark, and at the same time for doing a work of the truest charity. so philippus had yielded, and had started on his journey with very mixed feelings. horapollo did not devote any particular attention to his personal comfort; but in one respect he took especial care of himself. he had great difficulty in walking and, as he loved to breathe the fresh air at sundown, and sometimes to study the stars at a late hour, he kept an ass of the best and finest breed. he did not hesitate to pay a high price for such a beast if it really answered his requirements; that is to say if it were strong, surefooted, gentle, and light-colored. his father and grandfather, priests of isis, had always ridden white asses, and so he would do the same. during the last few sultry weeks he had rarely gone out of doors, and to-day he waited till the hour before sunset before starting to keep his promise. robed in snowy-white linen, with new sandals on his feet, freshly shaven, and protected from the sun's rays by a crisply curled, flowing wig, after the manner of his fathers, as well as by an umbrella, he mounted his beautiful white ass in the conviction that he had done his best for his outer man, and set forth, followed by his black slave trotting on foot. it was not yet dark when he stopped at the house of rufinus. his heart had not beat so high for many a day. "i feel as if i had come courting," said he, laughing at himself. "well, and i really am come to propose an alliance for the rest of my life! still, curiosity, one would think, might be shed with the hair and the teeth!" however, it still clung to him, and he could not deny to himself that he was very curious as to the person whom he hated, though he had never seen her, simply because she was the daughter of a patrician and a prefect, and had made his philippus miserable. as he was dismounting, a graceful young girl and an older woman, in very costly though simple dresses, came through the garden. these must be the waterwagtail, and orion's byzantine guest.--how annoying! so many women at once! their presence here could only embarrass and disturb him--a lonely student unused to the society of women. however, there was no help for it; and the new-comers were not so bad after all. katharina was a very attractive, pretty little mouse, and even without her millions much too good for the libertine orion. the matron, who had a kind, pleasant face, was exactly what philippus had described her. but then--and this spoilt all--in their presence he must not allude to the death of rufinus, so that he could not mention his proposed arrangement. he had swallowed all that dust, and borne that heat for nothing, and to-morrow he must ignominiously go through it all again! the first people he met were a handsome young couple: rustem and mandane. there could be no doubt as to their identity; so he went up to them and gave rustem the merchant's message, offering in philip's name to advance the money for the journey. but the masdakite patted his sleeve, in which he carried a good round sum in gold pieces, and exclaimed cheerily: "it is all here, and enough for two travellers to the east.--my little wife, by your leave; the time has come, little pigeon! off we go, homeward bound!" the huge fellow shouted it out in his deep voice with such effervescent contentment, and the pretty girl, as she looked up at him, was so glad, so much in love, and so grateful, that it quite cheered the old man; and he, who read an omen in every incident, accepted this meeting as of good augury at his first entering the house which was probably to be his home. his visit went on as well as it had begun, for he was welcomed very warmly both by the widow and daughter of rufinus. pulcheria at once pushed forward her father's arm-chair and placed a pillow behind his back, and she did it so quietly, so simply, and so amiably that it warmed his old heart, and he said to himself that it would be almost too much of a good thing to have such care given him every day and every hour. he could not forbear from a kindly jest with the young girl over her attentions, and martina at once entered into the joke. she had seen him coming on his fine ass; she praised the steed, and then refused to believe that the rider was past eighty. his news of philip's departure was regretted by all, and he was delighted to perceive that pulcheria seemed startled and presently shrank into the background. what a sweet, pure, kind face the child had--and pretty withal; she must and should be his little daughter; and all the while he was talking, or listening to katharina's small jokes and a friendly catechism from martina and dame joanna, in his mind's eye he saw philippus and that dear little creature as man and wife, surrounded by pretty children playing all about him. he had come to comfort and to condole, and lo! he was having as pleasant an hour as he had known in a long time. he and the other visitors had been received in the vindarium, which was now brightly lighted up, and now and then he glanced at the doors which opened on this, the centre of the house, trying to imagine what the different rooms should by-and-bye be used for. but he heard a light step behind him; martina rose, the water-wagtail hurried to meet the new-comer, and there appeared on the scene the tall figure of a girl dressed in mourning-robes. she greeted the matron with distinguished dignity, cast a cordial glance of sympathetic intelligence to joanna and pulcheria, and when the mistress of the house told her who the old man was, she went up to him and held out her hand--a cool, slender hand, as white as marble; the true patrician hand. yes, she was beautiful, wonderfully beautiful! he could hardly remember ever to have seen her equal. a spotless masterpiece of the creator's hand, made like some unapproachable goddess, to command the worship of subject adorers; however, she must renounce all hope of his, for those marble features, all the whiter by contrast with her black dress, had no attraction for him. no warming glow shone in those proud eyes; and under that lordly bosom beat no loving or lovable heart; he shivered at the touch of her fingers, and her presence, he thought, had a chilling and paralyzing influence on all the party. this was, in fact, the case. paula had been sent for to see the senator's wife and katharina. martina, thought she, had come out of mere curiosity, and she had a preconceived dislike to any one connected with heliodora. she had lost her confidence in the water-wagtail, for only two days ago the acolyte in personal attendance on the bishop--and whose child rufinus had cured of a lame foot--had been to the house to warn joanna against the girl. katharina, he told her, had a short while since betrayed to plotinus some important secret relating to her husband, and the bishop had immediately gone over to fostat. it was hard to believe such a thing of any friend, still, the girl who, by her own confession, had been so ready to play the part of spy in the neighboring garden, was the only person who would have told the prelate what plan was in hand for the rescue of the sisters. the acolyte's positive statement, indeed, left no room for doubt. it was not in paula's nature to think ill of others; but in this case her candid spirit, incapable of falsehood, would not suffer her to be anything but cool to the child; the more effusively katharina clung to her, the more icily paula repelled her. the old man saw this, and he concluded that this mien and demeanor were natural to paula at all times patrician haughtiness, cold-hearted selfishness, the insolent and boundless pride of the race he loathed-noble by birth alone--stood before him incarnate. he hated the whole class, and he hated this specimen of the class; and his aversion increased tenfold as he remembered what woe this cold siren had wrought for the son of his affections and might bring on him if she should thwart his favorite project. sooner would he end his days in loneliness, parted even from philippus, than share his home, his table, and his daily life with this woman, who could repel the sincerely-meant caresses of that pretty, childlike, simple little katharina with such frigid and supercilious haughtiness. the mere sight of her at meals would embitter every mouthful; only to hear her domineering tones in the next room would spoil his pleasure in working; the touch of her cold hand as she bid him good-night would destroy his night's rest! here and now her presence was more than he could bear. it was an offense to him, a challenge; and if ever he had wished to clear her out of his path and the physician's--by force, if need should be--the idea wholly possessed him now. irritated and provoked, he took leave of all the others, carefully avoiding a glance even at paula, though, after he rose, she went up to him on purpose to say a few pleasant words, and to assure him how highly she esteemed his adopted son. pulcheria escorted him through the garden and he promised her to return on the morrow, or the day after, and then she must take care that he found her and her mother alone, for he had no fancy to allow paula to thrust her pride and airs under his nose a second time. he angrily rejected pulcheria's attempts to take her friend's part, and he trotted home again, mumbling curses between his old lips. martina, meanwhile, had made friends with paula in her genial, frank way. she had met her parents in time past in constantinople and spoke of them with heart-felt warmth. this broke the ice between them, and when martina spoke of orion--her 'great sesostris'--of the regard and popularity he had enjoyed in constantinople, and then, with due recognition and sympathy, of his misfortune, paula felt drawn towards her indeed. her reserve vanished entirely, and the conversation between the new acquaintances became more and more eager, intimate, and delightful. when they parted both felt that they could only gain by further intercourse. paula was called away at the very moment of leave-taking, and left the room with warm expressions intended only for the matron: "not good-bye--we must meet again. but of course it is my part, as the younger, to go to you!" and she was no sooner gone than martina exclaimed: "what a lovely creature! the worthy daughter of a noble father! and her mother! o dame joanna! a sweeter being has rarely graced this miserable world; she was born to die young, she was only made to bloom and fade!" then, turning to katharina, she went on: with kindly reproof. "evil tongues gave me a very false idea of this girl. 'a silver kernel in a golden shell,' says the proverb, but in this case both alike are of gold.--between you two--good god!--but i know what has blinded your clear eyes, poor little kitten. after all, we all see things as we wish to see them. i would lay a wager, dame joanna, that you are of my opinion in thinking the fair paula a perfectly noble creature. aye, a noble creature; it is an expressive word and god knows! how seldom is it a true one? it is one i am little apt to use, but i know no other for such as she is, and on her it is not ill-bestowed." "indeed it is not!" answered joanna with warm assent; but martina sighed, for she was thinking to herself! "poor heliodora! i cannot but confess that paula is the only match for my 'great sesostris.' but what in heaven's name will become of that poor, unfortunate, love-sick little woman?" all this flashed through her quick brain while katharina was trying to justify herself, and asserting that she fully recognised paula's great qualities, but that she was proud, fearfully proud--she had given martina herself some evidence of that. at this pulcheria interposed in zealous defense of her friend. she, however, had hardly begun to speak when she, too, was interrupted, for men's voices were heard in loud discussion in the vestibule, and perpetua suddenly rushed in with a terrified face, exclaiming, heedless of the strangers: "oh dame joanna! here is another, dreadful misfortune! those arab devils have come again, with an interpreter and a writer. and they have been sent--merciful saviour, is it possible?--they have brought a warrant to take away my poor dear child, to take her to prison--to drag her all through the city on foot and throw her into prison." the faithful soul sobbed aloud and covered her face with her hands. terror fell upon them all; joanna left the viridarium in speechless dismay, and martina exclaimed: "what a horrible, vile country! good god, they are even falling on us women. children, children--give me a seat, i feel quite ill.--in prison! that beautiful, matchless creature dragged through the streets to prison. if the warrant is all right she must go--she must! not an angel from heaven could save her. but that she should be marched through the town, that noble and splendid creature, as if she were a common thief--it is not to be borne. so much as one woman can do for another at any rate shall be done, so long as i am here to stand on two feet!--katharina, child, do not you understand? why do you stand gaping at me as if i were a feathered ape? what do your fat horses eat oats for? what, you do not understand me yet? be off at once, this minute, and have the horses put in the large closed chariot in which i came here, and bring it to the door.--ah! at last you see daylight; now, take to your heels and fly!" and she clapped her hands as if she were driving hens off a garden-bed; katharina had no alternative but to obey. martina then felt for her purse, and when she had found it she added confidently: "thank god! i can talk to these villains! this is a language," and she clinked the gold pieces, intelligible to all. "come, where are the rascals?" the universal tongue had the desired effect. the chief of the guard allowed it to persuade him to convey paula to prison in the chariot, and to promise that she should find decent accommodation there, while he also granted old betta the leave she insisted on with floods of tears, to share the girl's captivity. paula maintained her dignity and composure under this unexpected shock. only when it came to taking leave of pulcheria and mary, who clung to her in frantic grief and begged to go with her and betta to prison, she could not restrain her tears. the scribe had informed her that she was charged dy bishop plotinus with having plotted the escape and flight of the nuns, and joanna's knees trembled under her when paula whispered in her ear: "beware of katharina! no one else could have betrayed us; if she has also revealed what rufinus did for the sisters we must deny it, positively and unflinchingly. fear nothing: they will get not a word out of me." then she added aloud: "i need not beg you to remember me lovingly; thanks to you both--the warmest, deepest thanks for all.... you, pul. . . ." and she clasped the mother and daughter to her bosom, while mary, clinging to her, hid her little face in her skirts, weeping bitterly. . . . "you, dame joanna, took me in, a forlorn creature, and made me happy till fate fell on us all--you know, ah! you know too well. --the kindness you have shown to me show now to my little mary. and there is one thing more--here comes the interpreter again!--a moment yet, i beg!--if the messenger should return and bring news of my father or, my god! my god!--my father himself, let me know, or bring him to me!--or, if i am dead by the time he comes, tell him that to find him, to see him once more, was my heart's dearest wish. and beg my father," she breathed the words into joanna's ear, "to love orion as a son. and tell them both that i loved them to the last, deeply, perfectly, beyond words!" then she added aloud as: she kissed each on her eyes and lips: "i love you and shall always love you--you, joanna, and you, my pulcheria, and you, mary, my sweet, precious darling." at this the water-wagtail humed forward with outstretched arms, but dame joanna put out a significantly warning hand; and they who were one in heart clasped each other in a last embrace as though they were indeed but one and no stranger could have any part in it. once more katharina tried to approach paula; but martina, whose eyes filled with tears as she looked on the parting, held her back by the shoulder and whispered: "do not disturb them, child. such hearts spontaneously attract those for whom they yearn. i, old as i am, would gladly be worthy to be called." the interpreter now sternly insisted on starting. the three women parted; but still the little girl held tightly to paula, even when she went up to the matron and kissed her with a natural impulse. martina took her head between her hands, kissed her fondly, and said in a voice she could scarcely control: "god protect and keep you, child! i thank him for having brought us together. a soul so pure and clear as yours is not to be found in the capital, but we still know how to be friends to our friends--at any rate i and my husband do--and if heaven but grants me the opportunity you shall prove it. you never need feel alone in the world; never, so long as justinus and his wife are still in it. remember that, child; i mean it in solemn earnest." with this, she again embraced paula, who as she went out to enter the chariot also bestowed a farewell kiss on eudoxia and mandane, for they, too, stood modestly weeping in the background; then she gave her hand to the hump-backed gardener, and to the masdakite, down whose cheeks tears were rolling. at this moment katharina stood in her path, seized her arm in mortified excitement, and said insistantly: "and have you not a word for me?" paula freed herself from her clutch and said in a low voice: "i thank you for lending me the chariot. as you know, it is taking me to prison, and i fear it is your perfidy that has brought me to this. if i am wrong, forgive me--if i am right, your punishment will hardly be lighter than my fate. you are still young, katharina; try to grow better." and with this she stepped into the chariot with old betta, and the last she saw was little mary who threw herself sobbing into joanna's arms. chapter xiv. susannah had never particularly cared for paula, but her fate shocked her and moved her to pity. she must at once enquire whether it was not possible to send her some better food than the ordinary prison-fare. that was but christian charity, and her daughter seemed to take her friend's misfortune much to heart. when she and martina returned home she looked so cast down and distracted that no stranger now would ever have dreamed of comparing her with a brisk little bird. once more a poisoned arrow had struck her. till now she had been wicked only in her own eyes; now she was wicked in the eyes of another. paula knew it was she who had betrayed her. the traitoress had been met by treachery. the woman she hated had a right to regard her as spiteful and malignant, and for this she hated her more than ever. till now she had nowhere failed to find an affectionate greeting and welcome; and to-day how coldly she had been repulsed--and not by paula alone, but also by martina, who no doubt had noticed something, and whose dry reserve had been quite intolerable to the girl. it was all the old bishop's fault; he had not kept his promise that her tale-bearing should remain as secret as a confession. indeed, he must have deliberately revealed it, for no one but herself knew of the facts. perhaps he had even mentioned her name to the arabs; in that case she would have to bear witness before the judges, and then in what light would she appear to orion, to her mother, to joanna and martina? she had not failed to understand that old rufinus must have perished in the expedition, and she was truly grieved. his wife and daughter had always been kind neighbors to her; and she would not have willingly brought sorrow on them. if she were called up to give evidence it might go hard with them, and she wished no harm to any one but those who had cheated her out of orion's love. this idea of standing before a court of justice was the worst of all; this must be warded off at any cost. where could bishop plotinus be? he had returned to memphis the day before, and yet he had not been to see her mother, to whom he usually paid a daily visit. this absence seemed to her ominous. everything depended on her reminding the old man of his promise as soon as possible; for if at the trial next morning--which of course, he must attend--he should happen to mention her name, the guards, the interpreter, and the scribe would invade her home too and then-horror! she had given evidence once already, and could never again go through all that had ensued. but how was she to get at the bishop in the course of the night or early to-morrow at latest? the chariot had not yet returned, and if--it still wanted two hours of midnight; yes--it must be done. she began talking to her mother of the prelate's absence; susannah, too, was uneasy about it, particularly since she had heard that the old man had come home ill and that his servant had been out and about in search of a physician. katharina promptly proposed to go and see him: the horses were still in harness, her nurse could accompany her. she really must go and learn how her venerable friend was going on. susannah thought this very sweet; still, she said it was very late for such a visit; however, her spoilt child had said that she "must" and the answer was a foregone conclusion. dame susannah gave way; the nurse was sent for, and as soon as the chariot came round katharina flung her arms round her mother's neck, promising her not to stay long, and in a few minutes the chariot stopped at the door of the bishop's palace. she bid the nurse wait for her and went alone into the vast, rambling house. the spacious hall, lighted feebly by a single lamp, was silent and deserted, even the door-keeper had left his post; however, she was familiar with every step and turning, and went on through the impluvium into the library where, at this hour, the bishop was wont to be found. but it was dark, and her gentle call met with no reply. in the next room, to which she timidly felt her way, a slave lay snoring; beside him were a wine jar and a hand-lamp. the sight somewhat reassured her. beyond was the bishop's bedroom, which she had never been into. a dim light gleamed through the open door and she heard a low moaning and gasping. she called the house-keeper by name once, twice; no answer. the sleeping slave did not stir; but a familiar voice addressed her from the bedroom, groaning rather than saying: "who is there? is he come? have you found him at last?" the whole household had fled in fear of the pestilence; even the acolyte, who had indeed a wife and children. the housekeeper had been forced to leave the master to seek the physician, who had already been there once, and the last remaining slave, a faithful, goodhearted, heedless sot, had been left in charge; but he had brought a jar of wine up from the unguarded cellar, had soon emptied it, and then, overcome by drink and the heat of the night, he had fallen asleep. katharina at once spoke her name and the old man answered her, saying kindly, but with difficulty: "ah, it is you, you, my child!" she took up the lamp and went close to the sick man. he put out his lean arm to welcome her; but, as her approach brought the light near to him he covered his eyes, crying out distressfully: "no, no; that hurts. take away the lamp." katharina set it down on a low chest behind the head of the bed; then she went up to the sufferer, gave him her mother's message, and asked him how he was and why he was left alone. he could only give incoherent answers which he gasped out with great difficulty, bidding her go close to him for he could not hear her distinctly. he was very ill, he told her-dying. it was good of her to have come for she had always been his pet, his dear, good little girl. "and it was a happy impulse that brought you," he added, "to receive an old man's blessing. i give it you with my whole heart." as he spoke he put forth his hand and she, following an instinctive prompting, fell on her knees by the side of the couch. he laid his burning right hand on her head and murmured some words of blessing; she, however, scarcely heeded them, for his hand felt like lead and its heat oppressed and distressed her dreadfully. it was a sincere grief to her to see this true old friend of her childhood suffering thus --perhaps indeed dying; at the same time she did not forget what had brought her here--still, she dared not disturb him in this act of love. he gave her his blessing--that was kind; but his mutterings did not come to an end, the weight of the hot hand on her head grew heavier and heavier, and at last became intolerable. she felt quite dazed, but with an effort she collected her senses and then perceived that the old man had wandered off from the usual formulas of blessing and was murmuring disconnected and inarticulate words. at this she raised the terrible, fevered hand, laid it on the bed, and was about to ask him whether he had betrayed her to benjamin, and if he had mentioned her name, when--merciful god! there on his cheeks were the same livid spots that she had noticed on those of the plague stricken man in medea's house. with a cry of horror she sprang up, snatched at the lamp, held it over the sufferer, heedless of his cries of anguish, looked into his face, and pulled away the weary hands with which he tried to screen his eyes from the light. then, having convinced herself that she was not mistaken, she fled from room to room out into the hall. here she was met by the housekeeper, who took the lamp out of her hand and was about to question her; but katharina only screamed: "the plague is in the house! lock the doors!" and then rushed away, past the leech who was coming in. with one bound she was in the chariot, and as the horses started she wailed out to the nurse: "the plague--they have the plague. plotinus has taken the plague!" the terrified woman tried to soothe her, assuring her that she must be mistaken for such hellish fiends did not dare come near so holy a man. but the girl vouchsafed no reply, merely desiring her to have a bath made ready for her as soon as they should reach home. she felt utterly shattered; on the spot where the old man's plaguestricken hand had rested she was conscious of a heavy, hateful pressure, and when the chariot at length drove into their own garden something warm and heavy-something she could not shake off, still seemed to weigh on her brain. the windows were all dark excepting one on the ground-floor, where a light was still visible in the room inhabited by heliodora. a diabolical thought flashed through her over-excited and restless mind; without looking to the right hand or the left she obeyed the impulse and went forward, just as she was, into her friend's sitting-room and then, lifting a curtain, on into the bedroom. heliodora was lying on her couch, still suffering from a headache which had prevented her going to visit their neighbors; at first she did not notice the late visitor who stood by her side and bid her good evening. a single lamp shed a dim light in the spacious room, and the young girl had never thought their guest so lovely as she looked in that twilight. a night wrapper of the thinnest material only half hid her beautiful limbs. round her flowing, fair hair, floated the subtle, hardly perceptible perfume which always pervaded this favorite of fortune. two heavy plaits lay like sheeny snakes over her bosom and the white sheet. her face was turned upwards and was exquisitely calm and sweet; and as she lay motionless and smiled up at katharina, she looked like an angel wearied in well-doing. no man could resist the charms of this woman, and orion had succumbed. by her side was a lute, from which she brought the softest and most soothing tones, and thus added to the witchery of her appearance. katharina's whole being was in wild revolt; she did not know how she was able to return heliodora's greeting, and to ask her how she could possibly play the lute with a headache. "just gliding my fingers over the strings calms and refreshes my blood," she replied pleasantly. "but you, child, look as if you were suffering far worse than i.--did you come home in the chariot that drove up just now?" "yes," replied katharina. "i have been to see our dear old bishop. he is very ill, dying; he will soon be taken from us. oh, what a fearful day! first orion's mother, then paula, and now this to crown all! oh, heliodora, heliodora!" she fell on her knees by the bed and pressed her face against her pitying friend's bosom. heliodora saw the tears which had risen with unaffected feeling to the girl's eyes; her tender soul was full of sympathy with the sorrow of such a gladsome young creature, who had already had so much to suffer, and she leaned over the child, kissing her affectionately on the brow, and murmuring words of consolation. katharina clung to her closely, and pointing to the top of her head where that burning hand had pressed it, she said: "there, kiss there: there is where the pain is worst!--ah, that is nice, that does me good." and, as the tender-hearted heliodora's fresh lips rested on the plaguetainted hair, katharina closed her eyes and felt as a gladiator might who hitherto has only tried his weapons on the practising ground, and now for the first time uses them in the arena to pierce his opponent's heart. she had a vision of herself as some one else, taller and stronger than she was; aye, as death itself, the destroyer, breathing herself into her victim's breast. these feelings entirely possessed her as she knelt on the soft carpet, and she did not notice that another woman was crossing it noiselessly to her comforter's bed-side, with a glance of intelligence at heliodora. just as she exclaimed: "another kiss there-it burns so dreadfully," she felt two hands on her temples and two lips, not heliodora's, were pressed on her head. she looked up in astonishment and saw the smiling face of her mother, who had come after her to ask how the bishop was, and who wished to take her share in soothing the pain of her darling. how well her little surprise had succeeded! but what came over the child? she started to her feet as if lightning had struck her, as if an asp had stung her, looked horror-stricken into her mother's eyes, and then, as susannah was on the point of clasping the little head to her bosom once more to kiss the aching, the cursed spot, katharina pushed her away, flew, distracted, through the sitting-room into the vestibule, and down the narrow steps leading to the bathroom. her mother looked after her, shaking her head in bewilderment. then she turned to heliodora with a shrug, and said, as the tears filled her eyes: "poor, poor little thing! too many troubles have come upon her at once. her life till lately was like a long, sunny day, and now the hail is pelting her from all sides at once. she has bad news of the bishop, i fear." "he is dying, she said," replied the young widow with feeling. "our best and truest friend," sobbed susannah. "it is, it really is too much. i often think that i must myself succumb, and as for her-hardly more than a child!--and with what resignation she bears the heaviest sorrows!--you, heliodora, are far from knowing what she has gone through; but you have no doubt seen how her only thought is to seem bright, so as to cheer my heart. not a sigh, not a complaint has passed her lips. she submits like a saint to everything, without a murmur. but, now that her clear old friend is stricken, she has lost her selfcontrol for the first time. she knows all that plotinus has been to me." and she broke down into fresh sobbing. when she was a little calmer, she apologised for her weakness and bid her fair guest good night. katharina, meanwhile, was taking a bath. a bathroom was an indispensable adjunct to every wealthy graeco-egyptian house, and her father had taken particular pains with its construction. it consisted of two chambers, one for men and one for women; both fitted with equal splendor. white marble, yellow alabaster, purple porphyry on all sides; while the pavement was of fine byzantine mosaic on a gold ground. there were no statues, as in the baths of the heathen; the walls were decorated with bible texts in gold letters, and above the divan, which was covered with a giraffe skin, there was a crucifix. on the middle panel of the coffered ceiling was inscribed defiantly, in the coptic language the first axiom of the jacobite creed: "we believe in the single, indivisible nature of christ jesus." and below this hung silver lamps. the large bath had been filled immediately for katharina, as the furnace was heated every evening for the ladies of the house. as she was undressing, her maid showed her a diseased date. the head gardener, had brought it to her, for he had that afternoon, discovered that his palms, too, had been attacked. but the woman soon regretted her loquacity, for when she went on to say that anchhor, the worthy shoemaker who, only the day before yesterday, had brought home her pretty new sandals, had died of the plague, katharina scolded her sharply and bid her be silent. but as the maid knelt before her to unfasten her sandals, katharina herself took up the story again, asking her whether the shoemaker's pretty young wife had also been attacked. the girl said that she was still alive, but that the old mother-in-law and all the children had been shut into the house, and even the shutters barred as soon as the corpse had been brought out. the authorities had ordered that this should be done in every case, so that the pestilence might not pervade the streets or be disseminated among the healthy. food and drink were handed to the captives through a wicket in the door. such regulations, she added, seemed particularly well-considered and wise. but she would have done better to keep her opinions to herself, for before she had done speaking katharina gave her an angry push with her foot. then she desired her not to be sparing with the 'smegma',--[a material like soap, but used in a soft state.]--and to wash her hair as thoroughly as possible. this was done; and katharina herself rubbed her hands and arms with passionate diligence. then she had water poured over her head again and again, till, when she desired the maid to desist, she had to lean breathless and almost exhausted against the marble. but in spite of smegma and water she still felt the pressure of the burning hand on top of her head, and her heart seemed oppressed by some invisible load of lead. her mother! oh, her mother! she had kissed her there, where the plague had actually touched her, and in fancy she could hear her gasping and begging for a drink of water like the dying wretches to whom her fate had led her. and then--then came the servants of the senate and shut her into the pestilential house with the sick; she saw the pest in mortal form, a cruel and malignant witch; behind her, tall and threatening, stood her inexorable companion death, reaching out a bony hand and clutching her mother, and then all who were in the house with her, and last of all, herself. her arms dropped by her side: powerful and terrible as she had felt herself this morning, she was now crushed by a sense of miserable and impotent weakness. her defiance had been addressed to a mortal, a frail, tender woman; and god and fate had put her in the front of the battle instead of heliodora. she shuddered at the thought. as she went up from the bath-room, her mother met her in the hall and said: "what, still here, child? how you startled me! and is it true? is plotinus really ill of a complaint akin to the plague?" "worse than that, mother," she replied sadly. "he has the plague; and i remembered that a bath is the right thing when one has been in a plaguestricken house; you, too, have kissed and touched me. pray have the fire lighted again, late as it is, and take a bath too." "but, child," susannah began with a laugh; but katharina gave her no peace till she yielded, and promised to bathe in the men's room, which had not been used at all since the appearance of the epidemic. when dame susannah found herself alone she smiled to herself in silent thankfulness, and in the bath again she lifted up her heart and hands in prayer for her only child, the loving daughter who cared for her so tenderly. katharina went to her own room, after ascertaining that the clothes she had worn this evening had been sacrificed in the bath-furnace. it was past midnight, but still she bid the maid sit up, and she did not go to bed. she could not have found rest there. she was tempted to go out on the balcony, and she sat down there on a rocking chair. the night was sultry and still. every house, every tree, every wall seemed to radiate the heat it had absorbed during the day. along the quay came a long procession of pilgrims; this was followed by a funeral train and soon after came another--both so shrouded in clouds of dust that the torches of the followers looked like coals glimmering under ashes. several who had died of the pestilence, and whom it had been impossible to bury by day, were being borne to the grave together. one of these funerals, so she vaguely fancied, was heliodora's; the other her own perhaps--or her mother's--and she shivered at the thought. the long train wandered on under its shroud of dust, and stood still when it reached the necropolis; then the sledge with the bier came back empty on red hot runners--but she was not one of the mourners--she was imprisoned in the pestiferous house. then, when she was freed again--she saw it all quite clearly--two heads had been cut off in the courtyard of the hall of justice: orion's and paula's--and she was left alone, quite alone and forlorn. her mother was lying by her father's side under the sand in the cemetery, and who was there to care for her, to be troubled about her, to protect her? she was alone in the world like a tree without roots, like a leaf blown out to sea, like an unfledged bird that has fallen out of the nest. then, for the first time since that evening when she had borne false witness, her memory reverted to all she had been taught at school and in the church of the torments of hell, and she pictured the abode of the damned, and the scorching, seething lake of fire in which murderers, heretics, false witnesses.... what was that? had hell indeed yawned, and were the flames soaring up to the sky through the riven shell of the earth? had the firmament opened to pour living fire and black fumes on the northern part of the city? she started up in dismay, her eyes fixed on the terrible sight. the whole sky seemed to be in flames; a fiery furnace, with dense smoke and myriads of shooting sparks, filled the whole space between earth and heaven. a devouring conflagration was apparently about to annihilate the town, the river, the starry vault itself; the metal heralds which usually called the faithful to church lifted up their voices; the quiet road at her feet suddenly swarmed with thousands of people; shrieks, yells and frantic commands came up from below, and in the confusion of tongues she could distinguish the words "governor's palace"--"arabs"--"mukaukas"-"orion"-"fire"--"put it out"--"save it." at this moment the old head-gardener called up to her from the lotostank: "the palace is in flames! and in this drought--god all-merciful save the town!" her knees gave way; she put out her hands with a faint cry to feel for some support, and two arms were thrown about her-the arms which she so lately had pushed away: her mother's: that mother who had bent over her only child and inhaled death in a kiss on her plague-tainted hair. chapter xv. the governor's palace, the pride and glory of memphis, the magnificent home of the oldest and noblest family of the land--the last house that had given birth to a race of native egyptians held worthy, even by the greeks, to represent the emperor and uphold the highest dignity in the world--the very citadel of native life, lay in ashes; and just as a giant of the woods crushes and destroys in its fall many plants of humbler growth, so the burning of the great house destroyed hundreds of smaller dwellings. this night's work had torn the mast and rudder, and many a plank besides, from that foundering vessel, the town of memphis. it seemed indeed a miracle that had saved the whole from being reduced to cinders; and for this, next to god's providence, they might thank the black incendiary himself and his arabs. the crime was committed with cool and shrewd foresight, and carried through to the end. during his visitation throughout the rambling buildings obada had looked out for spots that might suit his purpose, and two hours after sunset he had lighted fire after fire with his own hand, in secret and undetected. the troops he intended to employ later were waiting under arms at fostat, and when the fire broke out, first in the treasury and afterwards in three other places in the palace, they were immediately marched across and very judiciously employed. all that was precious in this ancient home of a wealthy race, was conveyed to a place of safety, even the numerous fine horses in the stables; and the title-deeds of the estate, slaves, and so forth were already secured at fostat; still, the flames consumed vast quantities of treasures that could never be replaced. beautiful works of art, manuscripts and books such as were only preserved here, old and splendid plants from every zone, vessels and woven stuffs that had been the delight of connoisseurs--all perished in heaps. but the incendiary regretted none of them, for all possibility of proving how much that was precious had fallen into his hands was buried under their ashes. the worst that could happen to him now was to be deposed from office for his too audacious proceedings. of all the towns he had seen in the course of the triumphant incursions of islam none had attracted him so greatly as damascus, and he now had the means of spending the latter half of his life there in luxurious enjoyment. at the same time it was desirable to rescue as much as possible from the flames; for it would have given his enemies a fatal hold upon him, if the famous old city of memphis should perish by his neglect. and he was a man to give battle to the awful element. not another building fell a prey to it on the nile quay; but a light southerly breeze carried burning fragments to the northwest, and several houses in the poorer quarter on the edge of the desert caught fire. thither the larger portion of those who could combat the flames and rescue the inhabitants were at once directed; and here, as at the palace, he acted on the principle of sacrificing whatever could not be saved entire. thus a whole quarter of the town was destroyed, hundreds of beggared families lost all they possessed; and yet he, whose ruthless avarice had cast so many into misery, was admired and lauded; for he was everywhere at once: now by the river and now by the desert, always where the danger was greatest, and where the presence of the leader was most needed. here he was seen in the very midst of the fire, there he swung the axe with his own hand; now, mounted on horseback, he rode down the line where the dry grass was to be torn up by the roots and soaked with water; now, on foot, he directed the scanty jet from the pipes or, with herculean strength, flung back into the flames a beam which had fallen beyond the limits he had set. his shrill voice sounded, as his huge height towered, above all others; every eye was fixed on his black face and flashing eyes and teeth, while his example carried away all his followers to imitate it. his shouts of command made the scene of the fire like a battle-field; the moslems, so ably led, regardless of life as they were and ready to strain and exert their strength to the utmost, wrought wonders in the name of their god and his prophet. the egyptians, too, did their best; but they felt themselves impotent by comparison with what these arabs did, and they hardly felt anything but the disgrace of being over-mastered by them. the light shone far across the country; even he whose splendid inheritance was feeding the flames perceived, between midnight and dawn, a glow on the distant western horizon which he was unable to account for. he had been riding towards it for about half an hour when the caravan halted at the last station but one, on the high road between kolzum and babylon. [suez, and the greek citadel near which amru founded fostat and cairo subsequently grew up.] a considerable troop of horse soldiers dismounted at the same time, but orion had not summoned these to protect him; on the contrary, he was in their charge and they were taking him, a prisoner, to fostat. he had quitted the chariot in which he had set out and had been made to mount a dromedary; two horsemen armed to the teeth rode constantly at his side. his fellow-travellers were allowed to remain in their chariot. at the inn which they had now reached justinus got out and desired his companion, a pale-faced man who sat sunk into a heap, to do the same; but with a weary shake of the head he declined to move. "are you in pain, narses?" asked justinus affectionately, and narses briefly replied in a husky voice: "all over," and settled himself against the cushion at the back of the chariot. he even refused the refreshments brought out to him by the senator's servant and interpreter. he seemed sunk in apathy and to crave nothing but peace. this was the senator's nephew. with orion's help, and armed with letters of protection and recommendation from amru, the senator had gained his purpose. he had ransomed narses, but not before the wretched man had toiled for some time as a prisoner, first at the canal on the line of the old one constructed by the pharaohs, which was being restored under the khaliff omar, to secure the speediest way of transporting grain from egypt to arabia and afterwards in the rock-bound harbor of aila. on the burning shores of the red sea, under the fearful sun of those latitudes, narses was condemned to drag blocks of stone; many days had elapsed before his uncle could trace him--and in what a state did justinus find him at last! a week before he could reach him, the ex-officer of cavalry had laid himself down in the wretched sheds for the sick provided for the laborers; his back still bore the scars of the blows by which the overseer had spurred the waning strength of his exhausted and suffering victim. the fine young soldier was a wreck, broken alike in heart and body and sunk in melancholy. justinus had hoped to take him home jubilant to martina, and he had only this ruin to show her, doomed to the grave. the senator was glad, nevertheless, to have saved this much at any rate. the sight of the sufferer touched him deeply, and the less narses would take or give, the more thankful was justinus when he gave the faintest sign of reviving interest. in the course of this journey by land and water--and latterly as sharing the senator's care of his nephew--orion had become very dear to his old friend; and at the risk of incurring his displeasure he had even confessed the reasons that had prompted him to leave memphis. he never could cease to feel that everything good or lofty in himself was paula's alone; that her love ennobled and strengthened him; that to desert her was to abandon himself. his trifling with heliodora could but divert him from the high aim he had set before himself. this aim he kept constantly in view; his spirit hungered for peaceful days in which he might act on the resolution he had formed in church and fulfil the task set before him by the arab governor. the knowledge that he had inherited an enormous fortune now afforded him no joy, for he was forced to confess to himself that but for this superabundant wealth he might have been a very different man; and more than once a vehement wish came over him to fling away all his possessions and wrestle for peace of mind and the esteem of the best men by his own unaided powers. the senator had taken his confession as it was meant: if thomas' daughter was indeed what orion described her there could be but small hope for his beautiful favorite. he and martina must e'en make their way home again with two adopted dear ones, and it must be the care of the old folks to comfort the young ones instead of the young succoring the old as was natural. and in spite of everything orion had won on his affections, for every day, every hour he was struck by some new quality, some greater trait than he had looked for in the young man. torches were flaring in the inn-yard where, under a palm-thatched roof supported on poles and covering a square space in the middle, benches stood for the guests to rest. here justinus and orion again met for a few minutes' conversation. his warders were also seated near them; they did not let orion out of their sight even while they ate their meal of mutton, bread, onions, and dates. the senator's servants brought some food from the chariot, and just as justinus and orion had begun their attack on it, a tall man came into the yard and made his way to the benches. this was philippus, pausing on his road to djidda. he had learnt, even before coming in, whom he would find here, a prisoner; and the arabs, to whom the leech was known, allowed him to join the pair, though at the same time they came a little nearer, and their leader understood greek. philippus was anything rather than cordially disposed towards orion; still, he knew what peril hung over the youth, and how sad a loss he had suffered. his conscience bid him do all he could to prove helpful in the trial that awaited him in the matter of the expedition in which rufinus had perished. he was the bearer, too, of sad news which the arabs must necessarily hear. orion was indeed furious when he heard of the seizure and occupation of the governor's residence; still, he believed that amru would insist on restitution; but on hearing of his mother's death he broke down completely. even the arabs, seeing the strong man shaken with sobs and learning the cause of his grief, respectfully withdrew; for the anguish of a son at the loss of his mother was sacred in their eyes. they regard the man who mourns for one he loves as stricken by the hand of the almighty and hallowed by his touch and treat him with the reverence of pious awe. orion had not observed their absence, but philippus at once took advantage of it to tell him, as briefly as possible, all that related to the escape of the nuns. he himself knew not yet of the burning of the palace, or of paula's imprisonment; but he could tell the senator where he would find his wife and niece. so by the time he was bidden to mount and start once more orion was informed of all that had happened. it was with a drooping head, and sunk in melancholy thought that he rode on his way. as for the residence!--whether the arabs gave it back to him or not, what did he care?--but his mother, his mother! all she had been to him from his earliest years rose before his mind; in the deep woe of this parting he forgot the imminent danger and the dungeon that awaited him, and the intolerable insult to his rights; nay, even the image of the woman he loved paled by the side of that of the beloved dead. perhaps he might not even gain permission to bury her! the way lay through a parched tract of rocky desert, and the further they went the more intense was that wonderful flush in the west, till day broke behind the travellers and the glory of the sunrise quenched the vividness of its glow. another scorching day! the rocks by the wayside still threw long shadows on the sandy desert-road, when a party of arab horsemen came from fostat to meet the travellers, shouting the latest news to the prisoner's escort. it was evidently important; but orion did not understand a word of what they said. evil tidings fly fast, however; while the men were talking together, the dragoman rode up to him and told him that his home was burnt to the ground and half memphis still in flames. then came other newsbearers, on horseback and on dromedaries; and they met chariots and files of camels loaded with corn and egyptian merchandise; and each and all shouted to the arab escort reports of what was going on in memphis, hoping to be the first to tell the homeward bound party. how many times did orion hear the story--and each time that a traveller began with: "have you heard?" pointing westward, the wounds the first news had inflicted bled anew. what lay beneath that mass of ashes? how much had the flames consumed that never could be replaced! much that he had silently wished were possible had in fact been fulfilled--and so soon! where now was the burthen of great wealth which had hung about his heels and hindered his running freely? and yet he did not, even now, feel free; the way was not yet open before him; he secretly mourned over the ruined house of his fathers and the wrecked home; a miserable sense of insecurity weighed him down. no father--no mother-no parental roof! for years he had been, in fact, perfectly independent, and yet he felt now like a pilot whose boat had lost its rudder. before him lay a prison, and the closing act of the great tragedy of which he himself had been the hero. fate had fallen on his house, had marked it for destruction as erewhile that of tantalus. it lay in ashes, and the victims were already many: two brothers, father, mother--and, far away from home, rufinus too. but whose was the guilt? it was not his ancestors who had sinned; it could only be his own that had called down this ruin. but was there then such a power as the destiny of the ancients--inexorable, iron fate? had he not repented and suffered, been reconciled to his redeemer, and prepared himself to fight the hard fight? perhaps he was indeed to be the hero of a tragedy; then he would show that it was not the blind inevitable, but what a man can make of himself, and what he can do by the aid of the god of might, which determines his fate. if he must still succumb, it should only be after a valiant struggle and defense. he would battle fearlessly against every foe, would press onward in the path he had laid down for himself. his heart beat high once more; he felt as though he could see his father's example as a guiding star in the sky, so that he must be true to that whether to live or to die. and when he turned his eye earthwards again, still, even there, he had that which made it seem worth the cost of enduring the pangs of living and the brunt of the hardest battle: paula and her love. the nearer he approached fostat, the more ardently his heart swelled with longing. heaven must grant him to see her once more, once more to clasp her in his arms, before--the end! it seemed to him that what he had gone through in these few hours must have removed and set aside everything that could part them. now, he felt, he had strength to remain worthy of her; if heliodora were to come in his way again he would now certainly, positively, regard and treat her only as a sister. he was conducted at once to the house of the kadi; but this official was at the divan--the council, which his arch-foe, that black monster obada, had called together. after the labors of the past night the negro had allowed himself only a few hours rest, and then had met the council, where he had not been slow to discover that he had as many enemies as there were members present. his most determined opponents were the kadi othman, the head of the courts of justice and administration, and khalid the governor of the exchequer. neither of them hesitated to express his opinion; and indeed, no one present at this meeting would have suspected for a moment that most of the members had, in their peaceful youth, guarded flocks as shepherds on the mountains, led caravans across the desert, or managed some small trade. in the contests of tribe against tribe they had found opportunities for practice in the use of weapons, and for steeling their courage; but where had they learnt to choose their words with so much care, and emphasize them with gestures of such natural grace that any greek orator would have admired them? it was only when the indignant orator "thundered and lightened" and was carried away by the heat of passion that he forgot his dignified moderation, and then how grandly voice, eye, and action helped each other! and never, even under the highest excitement, was purity of language overlooked. these men, of whom very few could read and write, had at their command all the most effective verses of their poets having thousands of lines stored in their minds. the discussion to-day dealt with the social aspects of an ancient civilization, unknown but a few years since to the warlike children of the desert, and yet how ably had the four overseers of public buildings the comptrollers of the markets, of the irrigation works, and of the mills, achieved their ends. these bright and untarnished spirits were equal to the hardest task and capable of carrying it through with energy, acumen, and success. and the sons of these men who had passed through no school were already well-fitted and invited to give new splendor to cities in their decline, and new life to the learning of the countries they had subdued. everything in this council revealed talent, vitality, and ardor; and obada, who had been a slave, found it by no means easy to uphold his pre-eminence among these assertive scions of free and respectable families. the kadi spoke frankly and fearlessly against his recent proceedings, declaring in the name of every member of the divan, that they disclaimed all responsibility for what had been done, and that it rested on the vekeel alone. obada was very ready to accept it; and he announced with such fiery eloquence his determination to give shelter at fostat to the natives whom the conflagration had left roofless, he was so fair-spoken, and he had shown his great qualities in so clear a light during the past night, that they agreed to postpone their attainder and await the reply from medina to the complaints they had forwarded. discipline, indeed, required that they should submit; and many a man who would have flown to meet death on the field as a bride, quailed before the terrible adventurer who would not shrink from the most hideous deeds. obada had won by hard fighting. no one could prove a theft against him of so much as a single drachma; but he nevertheless had to take many a rough word, and with one consent the assembly refused him the deference justly due to the governor's representative. bitterly indignant, he remained till the very last in the councilchamber, no one staying with him, not even his own subalterns, to speak a soothing word in praise of the power and eloquence of his address, while the same cursed wretches would, under similar circumstances, have buzzed round amru like swarming bees, and have escorted him home like curs wagging their tails. he ascribed the contumely and opposition he met with to their prejudice, as haughty, free-born men against his birth, and not to any fault of his own, and yet he looked down on them all, feeling himself the superior of each by himself; if the blow in medina were successful, he would pick out his victims, and then.... his dreams of vengeance were abruptly broken by a messenger, covered with dust from head to foot; he brought good news: orion was taken and safely bestowed in the kadi's house. "and why not in mine?" asked obada in peremptory tones. "who is the governor's representative here. othman or i? take the prisoner to my house." and he forthwith went home. but instead of the prisoner there presently appeared before him an official of the kadi's household, who informed him, from his master, that as the khaliff had constituted othman supreme judge in egypt this matter was in his hands; if obada wished to see the prisoner he might go to the kadi's residence, or visit him later in the town prison of memphis, whither orion would presently be transferred. he rushed off, raging, to his enemy's house, but his stormy fury was met by the placidity of a calm and judicial mind. othman was a man between forty and fifty years old, but his soft, black beard was already turning grey; his noble dark face bore the stamp of a lofty, high-bred soul, and a keen but temperate spirit shone in his eyes. there was something serene and clear in his whole person; he was a man to bear the burthen of life's vicissitudes with dignity, while he had set himself the task of saving others from them so far as in him lay. the patriarch's complaints had come also to the kadi's knowledge, and he, too, was minded to exact retribution for the massacre of the moslem soldiers; but the punishment should fall on none but the guilty. he would have been sorry to believe that orion was one of them, for he had esteemed his father as a brave man and a just judge, and had taken many a word of good advice from the experienced egyptian. the scene between him and the infuriated vekeel was a painful one even for the attendants who stood round; and orion, who heard obada's raging from the adjoining room, could gather from it some idea of the relentless hatred with which his negro enemy would persecute him. however, as after the wildest storm the sea ebbs in ripples so even this tempest came to a more peaceful conclusion. the kadi represented to the vekeel what an unheard-of thing it would be, and in what a disgraceful light it would set moslem justice if one of the noblest families in the country--to whose head, too, the cause of islam owed so much--were robbed of its possessions on mere suspicion. to this the vekeel replied that there were definite accusations brought by the head of the native church, and that nothing had been robbed, but merely confiscated and placed in security. as to what allah had thought fit to destroy by fire, no one could be held answerable for that. there was no "mere suspicion" in the case, for he himself had in his possession a document which amply proved that paula, orion's beloved, had been the instigator of the crime which had cost the lives of twelve of the true believers.--the girl herself had been taken into custody yesterday. he would cross-examine her himself, too, in spite of all the kadis in the world; for though othman might choose to let any number of moslems be murdered by these dogs of christians he, obada, would not overlook it; and if he did, by tomorrow morning the thousand egyptians who were digging the canal would have killed with their shovels the three moslems who kept guard over them. at this, othman assured the vekeel that he was no less anxious to punish the miscreants, but that he must first make sure of their identity, and that, in accordance with the law, justly and without fear of man or blind hatred, with due caution and justice. he, as judge, was no less averse to letting off the guilty than he was to punishing the innocent; so the enquiry must be allowed to proceed quietly. if obada wished to examine paula he, the kadi, had no objection; to preside over the court and to direct the trial was his business, and that he would not abdicate even for the khaliff himself so long as omar thought him worthy to hold his office. to all this obada had no choice but to agree, though with an ill-grace; and as the vekeel wished to see orion, the young man was called in. the huge negro looked at him from head to foot like a slave he proposed to buy; and, when othman went to the door and so could not see him, he could not resist the malicious impulse: he glanced significantly at the prisoner, and drew his forefinger sharply and quickly across his black throat as though to divide the head from the trunk. then he contemptuously turned his back on the youth. chapter xvi. in the course of the afternoon the vekeel rode across to the prison in memphis. he expected to find the bishop there, but instead he was met with the news that plotinus was dead of the pestilence. this was a malignant stroke of fate; for with the bishop perished the witness who could have betrayed to him the scheme plotted for the rescue of the nuns.--but no! the patriarch, too, no doubt, knew all. still, of what use was that at this moment? he had no time to lose, and benjamin could hardly be expected to return within three weeks. obada had met paula's father in the battle-field by damascus, and it had often roused his ire to know that this hero's name was held famous even among the moslems. his envious soul grudged even to the greatest that pure honor which friend and foe alike are ready to pay; he did not believe in it, and regarded the man to whom it was given as a timeserving hypocrite. and as he hated the father so he did the daughter, though he had never seen her. orion's fate was sealed in his mind; and before his death he should suffer more acutely through the execution of paula, whether she denied or owned her guilt. he might perhaps succeed in making her confess, so he desired that she should at once be brought into the judge's council-room; but he failed completely in his attempt, though he promised her, through the interpreter, the greatest leniency if she admitted her guilt and threatened her with an agonizing death if she refused to do so. his prisoner, indeed, was not at all what he had expected, and the calm pride with which she denied every accusation greatly impressed the upstart slave. at first he tried to supplement the interpreter by shouting words of broken greek, or intimidating her by glaring looks whose efficacy he had often proved on his subordinates but without the least success; and then he had her informed that he possessed a document which placed her guilt beyond doubt. even this did not shake her; she only begged to see it. he replied that she would know all about it soon enough, and he accompanied the interpreter's repetition of the answer with threatening gestures. he had met with shrewd and influential women among his own people; he had seen brave ones go forth to battle, and share the perils of a religious war, with even wilder and more blood-thirsty defiance of death than the soldiers themselves; but these had all been wives and mothers, and whenever he had seen them break out of the domestic circle, beyond which no maiden could ever venture, it was because they were under the dominion of some passionate impulse and a burning partisanship for husband or son, family or tribe. the women of his nation lived for the most part in modest retirement, and none but those who were carried away by some violent emotion infringed the custom. but this girl! there she stood, immovably calm, like a warrior at the head of his tribe. there was something in her mien that quelled him, and at the same time roused to the utmost his desire to make her feel his power and to crush her pride. she was as much taller than the women of his nation as he was taller than any other captain in the moslem army; prompted by curiosity, he went close up to her to measure her height by his own, and passed his hand through the air from his swarthy throat to touch the crown of her head; and the depth of loathing with which she shrank from him did not escape his notice. the blood mounted to his head; he desired the interpreter to inform her that she was to hope for no mercy, and inwardly devoted her to a cruel death. pale, but prepared to meet the worst, paula returned to the squalid room she occupied with her faithful betta. her arrival at the prison had been terrible. the guards had seemed disposed to place her in a room filled with a number of male and female criminals, whence the rattle of their chains and a frantic uproar of coarse voices met her ear; however, the interpreter and the captain of the town-watch had taken charge of her, prompted by martina's promise of a handsome reward if they could go to her next morning with a report that paula had been decently accommodated. the warder's mother-in-law, too, had taken her under her protection. this woman was the inn-keeper's wife from the riverside inn of nesptah, and she at once recognized paula as the handsome damsel who had refreshed herself there after the evening on the river with orion, and whom she had supposed to be his betrothed. she happened to be visiting her daughter, the keeper's wife, and induced her to do what she could to be agreeable to paula. so she and betta were lodged in a separate cell, and her gold coin proved acceptable to the man, who did his utmost to mitigate her lot. indeed, pulcheria had even been allowed to visit her and to bring her the last roses that the drought had left in the garden. susannah had carried out her purpose of sending her food and fruit; but they remained in the outer room, and the messenger was desired to explain that no more were to be sent, for that she was supplied with all she needed. confident in her sense of innocence, she had looked forward calmly to her fate building her hopes on the much lauded justice of the arab judges. but it was not they, it would seem, who were to decide it, but that black monster orion's foe; crushed by the sense of impotence against the arbitrary despotism of the ruthless villain, whose victim she must be, she sat sunk in gloomy apathy, and hardly heard the old nurse's words of encouragement. she did not fear death; but to die without having seen her father once more, without saying and proving to orion that she was his alone, wholly his and for ever--that was too hard to bear. while she was wringing her hands, in a state verging on despair, the man who had ruined the happiness, the peace, and the fortunes of so many of his fellow-creatures was cantering through the streets of memphis, mounted on the finest horse in orion's stable, and firmly determined to make his defiant prisoner feel his power. when he reached the great market-place in the quarter known as ta-anch he was forced to bring his steed to a quieter pace, for in front of the curia--the senatehouse--an immense gathering of people had collected. the vekeel forced his way through them with cruel indifference. he knew what they wanted and paid no heed to them. the hapless crowd had for some time past met here daily, demanding from the authorities some succor in their fearful need. processions and pilgrimages had had no result yesterday, so to-day they besieged the curia. but could the senate make the nile rise, or stay the pestilence, or prevent the dates dropping from the palm-trees? could they help, when heaven denied its aid? these were the questions which the authorities had already put at least ten times to the shrieking multitude from the balcony of the town hall, and each time the crowd had yelled in reply: "yes--yes. you must!--it is your duty; you take the taxes, and you are put there to take care of us!" even yesterday the distracted creatures had been wholly unmanageable and had thrown stones at the building: to-day, after the fearful conflagration and the death of their bishop, they had assembled in vast numbers, more furious and more desperate than ever. the senators sat trembling on their antique seats of gilt ivory, the relics of departed splendor imitated from those of the roman senators, looking at each other and shrugging their shoulders while they listened to a letter which had just reached them from the hadi. this document required them, in conformity with obada's determination, to make known to the populace, by public proclamation and declaration, that any citizen whose house had been destroyed by the fire of the past night would be granted ground and building materials without payment, at fostat across the nile, where he might found a new home provided he would settle there and embrace islam. this degrading offer must be announced: no discussion or recalcitrancy could help that. and what could they, for their part, do for the complaining crowd? the plague was snatching them away; the vegetables, which constituted half their food at this season, were dried up; the river, their palatable and refreshing drink, was poisoned; the dates, their chief luxury, ripened only to be rejected with loathing. then there was the comet in the sky, no hope of a harvest--even of a single ear, for months to come. the bishop dead, all confidence lost in the intercessions of the church, god's mercy extinct as it would seem, withdrawn from the land under infidel rule! and they on whose help the populace counted,--poor, weak men, councillors of no counsel, liable from hour to hour to be called to follow those who had succumbed to the plague, and who had but just quitted their vacant seats in obedience to the fateful word. yesterday each one had felt convinced that their necessity and misery had reached its height, and yet in the course of the night it had redoubled for many. their self-dependence was exhausted; but there still was one sage in the city who might perhaps find some new way, suggest some new means of saving the people from despair. stones were again flying down through the open roof, and the members of the council started up from their ivory seats and sought shelter behind the marble piers and columns. a wild turmoil came up from the marketplace to the terror-stricken fathers of the city, and the mob was hammering with fists and clubs on the heavy doors of the curia. happily they were plated with bronze and fastened with strong iron bolts, but they might fly open at any moment and then the furious mob would storm into the hall. but what was that? for a moment the roar and yelling ceased, and then began again, but in a much milder form. instead of frenzied curses and imprecations shouts now rose of "hail, hail!" mixed with appeals: "help us, save us, give us council. long live the sage!" "help us with your magic, father!" "you know the secrets and the wisdom of the ancients!" "save us, save us! show those money-bags, those cheats in the curia the way to help us!" at this the president of the town-council ventured forth from his refuge behind the statue of trajan--the only image that the priesthood had spared--and to climb a ladder which was used for lighting the hanging lamps, so as to peep out of the high window. he saw an old man in shining white linen robes, riding on a fine white ass through the crowd which reverently made way for him. the lictors of the town marched before him with their fasces, on to which they had tied palm branches in token of a friendly embassy. looking further he could see that behind the old man came a slave, besides the one who drove his ass, carrying a quantity of manuscript scrolls. this raised his hopes, for the scrolls looked very old and yellow, and no doubt contained a store of wisdom; nay, probably magic formulas and effectual charms. with a loud exclamation of "here he comes!" the senator descended the ladder; in a few minutes the door was opened with a rattling of iron bolts, and it was with a sigh of relief that they saw the old man come in and none attempt to follow him. when horapollo entered the council-chamber he found the senators sitting on their ivory chairs with as much dignified calm as though the meeting had been uninterrupted; but at a sign from the president they all rose to receive the old man, and he returned their greeting with reserve, as homage due to him. he also accepted the raised seat, which the president quitted in his honor while he himself took one of the ordinary chairs at his side. the negotiation began at once, and was not disturbed by the crowd, though still from the market-place there came a ceaseless roar, like the breaking of distant waves and the buzzing of thousands of swarming bees. the sage began modestly, saying that he, in his simplicity, could not but despair of finding any help where so many wise men had failed; he was experienced only in the lore and mysteries of the fathers, and he had come thither merely to tell the council what they had considered advisable in such cases, and to suggest that their example should be followed. he spoke low but fluently, and a murmur of approval followed; then, when the president went on to speak of the low state of the nile as the root of all the evil, the old man interrupted him, begging them to begin by considering the particular difficulties which they might attack by their own efforts. the pestilence was in possession of the city; he had just come through the quarter that had been destroyed by the fire, and had seen above fifty sick deprived of all care and reduced to destitution. here something could be done; here was a way of showing the angry populace that their advisers and leaders were not sitting with their hands in their laps. a councillor then proposed that the convent of st. cecilia, or the now deserted and dilapidated odeum should be given up to them; but horapollo objected explaining very clearly that such a crowd of sick in the midst of the city would be highly dangerous to the healthy citizens. this opinion was shared by his friend philippus, who had indeed commended the plan he had to propose as the only right one. whither had their forefathers transported, not merely their beneficent institutions, but their vast temples and tomb-buildings which covered so much space? always to the desert outside the town. arrianus had even written these verses on the gigantic sphinx near the pyramids. "the gods erewhile created these far-shining forms, wisely sparing the fields and fertile corn-bearing plain." the moderns had forgotten thus to spare the arable land, and they had also neglected to make good use of the desert. the dead and plaguestricken must not be allowed to endanger the living; they must therefore be lodged away from the town, in the necropolis in the desert. "but we cannot let them be under the broiling sun," cried the president. "still less," added another, "can we build a house for them in a day." to this horapollo replied: "and who would be so foolish as to ask you to do either? but there are linen and posts to be had in memphis. have some large tents pitched in the necropolis, and all who fall sick of the pestilence removed there at the expense of the city and tended under their shade. appoint three or four of your number to carry this into execution and there will be a shelter for the roofless sick in a few hours. how many boatmen and shipwrights are standing idle on the quays! call them together and in an hour they will be at work." this suggestion was approved. a linen-merchant present exclaimed: "i can supply what is needed," and another who dealt in the same wares, and exported this famous egyptian manufacture to remote places, also put in a word, desiring that his house might have the order as he could sell cheaper. this squabble might have absorbed the attention of the meeting till it rose, and perhaps have been renewed the next day, if horapollo's proposal that they should divide the commission equally had not been hastily adopted. the populace hailed the announcement that tents would be erected for the sick in the desert, with applause from a thousand voices. the deputies chosen to superintend the task set to work at once, and by night the most destitute were safe under the first large hospital tent. the old man settled some other important questions in the same way, always appealing to the lore of the ancients. at length he spoke of the chief subject, and he did so with great caution and tact. all the events of the last few weeks, he said, pointed to the conclusion that heaven was wroth with the hapless land of their fathers. as a sign of their anger the immortals had sent the comet, that terrible star whose ominous splendor was increasing daily. to make the nile rise was not in the power of men; but the ancients--and here his audience listened with bated breath--the ancients had been more intimately familiar with the mysterious powers that rule the life of nature than men in the later times, whether priests or laymen. in those days every servant of the most high had been a naturalist and a student, and when egypt had been visited by such a calamity as that of this year, a sacrifice had been offered--a precious victim against which all mankind, nay and all his own feelings revolted; still, this sacrifice had never failed of its effect, no, never. here was the evidence--and he pointed to the manuscripts in his lap. the councillors had begun to be restless in their seats, and first the president and then the others, one after another, exclaimed and asked: "but the victim?" "what did they sacrifice?" "what about the victim?" "allow me to say no more about it till another time," said the old man. "what good could it do to tell you that now? the first thing is to find the thing that is acceptable to the gods." "what is it?" "speak--do not keep us on the rack!" was shouted on all sides; but he remained inexorable, promising only to call the council together when the right time should come and desiring that the president would proclaim from the balcony that horapollo knew of a sacrifice which would cause the nile at last to rise. as soon as the right victim could be found, the people should be invited to give their consent. in the time of their forefathers it had never failed of its effect, so men, women, and children might go home in all confidence, and await the future with new and well-founded hopes. and this announcement, with which the president mingled his praises of the venerable horapollo, had a powerful effect. the crowd hallooed with glee, as though they had found new life. "hail, hail !" was shouted again and again, and it was addressed, not merely to the old man who had promised them deliverance, but also to the fathers of the city, who felt as if a fearful load had fallen from their souls. the old man's scheme was, to be sure, not pious nor rightly christian; but had the power of the church been in any way effectual? and this having failed they must of their own accord have had recourse to means held reprobate by the priesthood. magic and the black arts were genuinely egyptian; and when faith had no power, these asserted themselves and superstition claimed its own. though medea had been taken by surprise and imprisoned, this had not been done to satisfy the law, but with a view to secretly utilizing her occult science for the benefit of the community. in such dire need no means were too base; and though the old man himself was horrified at those he proposed he was sure of public approbation if only they had the desired result. if only they could avert the calamity the sin could be expiated, and the almighty was so merciful! the bishop had a seat and voice in the council, but fate itself had saved them from the dilemma of having to meet his remonstrances. when horapollo went out into the market-place he was received with acclamations, and as much gratitude as though he had already achieved the deliverance of the people and country. what had he done?--whether the work he had set going were to fail or to succeed he could not remain in memphis, for in either case he would never have peace again. but that did not daunt him; it would certainly be very good for the two women to be removed from the perilous neighborhood of the arab capital, and he was firmly determined to take them away with him. for his dear philip, too, nothing could be better than a transplantion into other soil. at the house of rufinus he now learnt the fate that had fallen on paula. she was out the way, at any rate for the present; still, if she should be released to-morrow or the day after, or even a month hence, she would be as great a hindrance as ever. his plots against her must therefore be carried out. his own isolation provoked him, and what a satisfaction it would be if only he should succeed in stirring up the egyptian christians to the heathen deed to which he was endeavoring to prompt them. if paula should be condemned to death by the arabs, the execution of the scheme would be greatly promoted; and now the first point was to ensure the favor of the black vekeel, for everything depended on his consent. joanna and pulcheria thought him more good-humored and amiable than they had ever known him; his proposal that he and philippus should join their household was hailed with delight even by little mary, and the women conducted him all over the house, supporting his steps with affectionate care. all he saw there pleased him beyond measure. such neatness and comfort could only exist where there was a woman's eye to direct and watch over everything. the rooms on the ground floor, which had been the master's, should be his, and the corresponding wing on the other side could be made ready for philippus. the dining-room, the large antechamber, and the viridarium would be common ground, and the upper story was large enough for the women and any guests. he would move in as soon as he had settled some business he had in hand. it must be something of a pleasant nature, for as the old man spoke of it his sunken lips mumbled with satisfaction, while his sparkling eyes seemed to say to pulcheria: "and i have something good in store for you, too, dear child." etext editor's bookmarks: thin-skinned, like all up-starts in authority this ebook was produced by david widger <widger@cecomet.net> [note: there is a short list of bookmarks, or pointers, at the end of the file for those who may wish to sample the author's ideas before making an entire meal of them. d.w.] in the fire of the forge a romance of old nuremberg by georg ebers volume 1. translated from the german by mary j. safford chapter i. on the eve of st. medard's day in the year 1281, the moon, which had just risen, was shining brightly upon the imperial free city of nuremberg; its rays found their way into the street leading from the strong marienthurm to the frauenthor, but entrance to the ortlieb mansion was barred by a house, a watchtower, and--most successfully of all--by a tall linden tree. yet there was something to be seen here which even now, when nuremberg sheltered the emperor rudolph and so many secular and ecclesiastical princes, counts, and knights, awakened luna's curiosity. true, this something had naught in common with the brilliant spectacles of which there was no lack during this month of june; on the contrary, it was very quiet here. an imperial command prohibited the soldiery from moving about the city at night, and the frauenthor, through which during the day plenty of people and cattle passed in and out had been closed long before. very few of the worthy burghers--who went to bed betimes and rose so early that they rarely had leisure to enjoy the moonlight long--passed here at this hour. the last one, an honest master weaver, had moved with a very crooked gait. as he saw the moon double--like everything else around and above him--he had wondered whether the man up there had a wife. he expected no very pleasant reception from his own at home. the watchman, who--the moon did not exactly know why--lingered a short time in front of the ortlieb mansion, followed the burgher. then came a priest who, with the sacristan and several lantern bearers, was carrying the sacrament to a dying man in st. clarengasse. there was usually more to be seen at this hour on the other side of the city--the northwestern quarter--where the fortress rose on its hill, dominating the thiergartenthor at its foot; for the emperor rudolph occupied the castle, and his brother-in-law, burgrave friedrich von zollern, his own residence. this evening, however, there was little movement even there; the emperor and his court, the burgrave and his train, with all the secular and ecclesiastical princes, counts, and knights, had gone to the town hall with their ladies. high revel was held there, and inspiring music echoed through the open windows of the spacious apartment, where the emperor rudolph also remained during the ball. here the moonbeams might have been reflected from glittering steel or the gold, silver, and gems adorning helmets, diadems, and gala robes; or they might surely have found an opportunity to sparkle on the ripples of the pegnitz river, which divided the city into halves; but the heavenly wanderer, from the earliest times, has preferred leafy hidden nooks to scenes of noisy gaiety, a dim light to a brilliant glare. luna likes best to gaze where there is a secret to be discovered, and mortals have always been glad to choose her as a confidante. something exactly suited to her taste must surely be going on just now near the linden which, in all the splendour of fullest bloom, shaded the street in front of the ortlieb mansion; for she had seen two fair girls grow up in the ancient dwelling with the carved escutcheon above the lofty oak door, and the ample garden--and the younger, from her earliest childhood, had been on especially intimate terms with her. now the topmost boughs of the linden, spite of their dense foliage, permitted a glimpse of the broad courtyard which separated the patrician residence from the street. a chain, which with graceful curves united a short row of granite posts, shut out the pedestrians, the vehicles and horsemen, the swine and other animals driven through the city gate. in contrast with the street, which in bad weather resembled an almost impassable swamp, it was always kept scrupulously clean, and the city beadle might spare himself the trouble of looking there for the carcasses of sucking pigs, cats, hens, and rats, which it was his duty to carry away. a young man with an unusually tall and powerful figure was standing in this yard, gazing up at a window in the second story. the shadow of the linden concealed his features and his dress, but the moon had already seen him more than once in this very spot and knew that he was a handsome fellow, whose bronzed countenance, with its prominent nose and broad brow, plainly indicated a strong will. she had also seen the scar stretching from the roots of his long brown locks across the whole forehead to the left cheek-bone, that lent the face a martial air. yet he belonged to no military body, but was the son of a noble family of nuremberg, which boasted, it is true, of "knightly blood" and the right of its sons to enter the lists of the tournament, but was engaged in peaceful pursuits; for it carried on a trade with italy and the netherlands, and every male scion of the eysvogel race had the birthright of being elected a member of the honourable council and taking part in the government of nuremberg. the moon had long known that the young man in the courtyard was an eysvogel, nor was this difficult to discover. every child in nuremberg was familiar with the large showy coat of arms lately placed above the lofty doorway of the eysvogel mansion; and the nocturnal visitor wore a doublet on whose left breast was embroidered the same coat of arms, with three birds in the shield and one on the helmet. he had already waited some time in vain, but now a young girl's head appeared at the window, and a gay fresh voice called his christian name, "wolff!" waving his cap, he stepped nearer to the casement, greeted her warmly, and told her that he had come at this late hour to say good-night, though only from the front yard. "come in," she entreated. "true, my father and eva have gone to the dance at the town hall, but my aunt, the abbess, is sitting with my mother." "no, no," replied wolff, "i only stopped in passing. besides, i am stealing even this brief time." "business?" asked the young girl. "do you know, i am beginning to be jealous of the monster which, like an old spider, constantly binds you closer and closer in its web. what sort of dealing is this?--to give the whole day to business, and only a few minutes of moonlight to your betrothed bride! "i wish it were otherwise," sighed wolff. "you do not know how hard these times are, els! nor how many thoughts beset my brain, since my father has placed me in charge of all his new enterprises." "always something new," replied els, with a shade of reproach in her tone. "what an omnivorous appetite this eysvogel business possesses! ullmann nutzel said lately: 'wherever one wants to buy, the bird-[vogel]--has been ahead and snapped up everything in venice and milan. and the young one is even sharper at a bargain,' he added." "because i want to make a warm nest for you, dearest," replied wolff. "as if we were shopkeepers anxious to secure customers!" said the girl, laughing. "i think the old eysvogel house must have enough big stoves to warm its son and his wife. at the tuckers the business supports seven, with their wives and children. what more do we want? i believe that we love each other sincerely, and though i understand life better than eva, to whom poverty and happiness are synonymous, i don't need, like the women of your family, gold plates for my breakfast porridge or a bed of levantine damask for my lapdog. and the dowry my father will give me would supply the daughters of ten knights." "i know it, sweetheart," interrupted wolff dejectedly; "and how gladly i would be content with the smallest--" "then be so!" she exclaimed cheerily. "what you would call 'the smallest,' others term wealth. you want more than competence, and i--the saints know-would be perfectly content with 'good.' many a man has been shipwrecked on the cliffs of 'better' and 'best.'" fired with passionate ardour, he exclaimed, "i am coming in now." "and the business?" she asked mischievously. "let it go as it will," he answered eagerly, waving his hand. but the next instant he dropped it again, saying thoughtfully: "no, no; it won't do, there is too much at stake." els had already turned to send katterle, the maid, to open the heavy house door, but ere doing so she put her beautiful head out again, and asked: "is the matter really so serious? won't the monster grant you even a good-night kiss?" "no," he answered firmly. "your menservants have gone, and before the maid could open----there is the moon rising above the linden already. it won't do. but i'll see you to-morrow and, please god, with a lighter heart. we may have good news this very day." "of the wares from venice and milan?" asked els anxiously. "yes, sweetheart. two waggon trains will meet at verona. the first messenger came from ingolstadt, the second from munich, and the one from landshut has been here since day before yesterday. another should have arrived this morning, but the intense heat yesterday, or some cause--at any rate there is reason for anxiety. you don't know what is at stake." "but peace was proclaimed yesterday," said els, "and if robber knights and bandits should venture----but, no! surely the waggons have a strong escort." "the strongest," answered wolff. "the first wain could not arrive before to-morrow morning." "you see!" cried the girl gaily. "just wait patiently. when you are once mine i'll teach you not to look on the dark side. o wolff, why is everything made so much harder for us than for others? now this evening, it would have been so pleasant to go to the ball with you." "yet, how often, dearest, i have urged you in vain----" he began, but she hastily interrupted "yes, it was certainly no fault of yours, but one of us must remain with my mother, and eva----" "yesterday she complained to me with tears in her eyes that she would be forced to go to this dance, which she detested." "that is the very reason she ought to go," explained els. "she is eighteen years old, and has never yet been induced to enter into any of the pleasures other girls enjoy. when she isn't in the convent she is always at home, or with aunt kunigunde or one of the nuns in the woods and fields. if she wants to take the veil later, who can prevent it, but the abbess herself advises that she should have at least a glimpse of the world before leaving it. few need it more, it seems to me, than our eva." "certainly," wolff assented. "such a lovely creature! i know no girl more beautiful in all nuremberg." "oh! you----," said his betrothed bride, shaking her finger at her lover, but he answered promptly, "you just told me that you preferred 'good' to 'better,' and so doubtless 'fair' to 'fairer,' and you are beautiful, els, in person and in soul. as for eva, i admire, in pictures of madonnas and angels, those wonderful saintly eyes with their uplifted gaze and marvellously long lashes, the slight droop of the little head, and all the other charms; yet i gladly dispense with them in my heart's darling and future wife. but you, els-if our lord would permit me to fashion out of divine clay a life companion after my own heart, do you know how she would look?" "like me--exactly like els ortlieb, of course," replied the girl laughing. "a correct guess, with all due modesty," wolff answered gaily. "but take care that she does not surpass your wishes. for you know, if the little saint should meet at the dance some handsome fellow whom she likes better than the garb of a nun, and becomes a good nuremberg wife, the excess of angelic virtue will vanish; and if i had a brother--in serious earnest-i would send him to your eva." "and," cried els, "however quickly her mood changes, it will surely do her no harm. but as yet she cares nothing about you men. i know her, and the tears she shed when our father gave her the costly milan suckenie, in which she went to the ball, were anything but tears of joy." [suckenie--a long garment, fitting the upper part of the body closely and widening very much below the waist, with openings for the arms.] "i only wonder," added wolff, "that you persuaded her to go; the pious lamb knows how to use her horns fiercely enough." "oh, yes," els assented, as if she knew it by experience; then she eagerly continued, "she is still just like an april day." "and therefore," wolff remarked, "the dance which she began with tears will end joyously enough. the young knights and nobles will gather round her like bees about honey. count von montfort, my brother-in-law siebenburg says, is also at the town hall with his daughter." "and the comet cordula was followed, as usual, by a long train of admirers," said els. "my father was obliged to give the count lodgings; it could not be avoided. the emperor rudolph had named him to the council among those who must be treated with special courtesy. so he was assigned to us, and the whole suite of apartments in the back of the house, overlooking the garden, is now filled with montforts, montfort household officials, menservants, squires, pages, and chaplains. montfort horses and hounds crowd our good steeds out of their stalls. besides the twenty stabled here, eighteen were put in the brewery in the hundsgasse, and eight belong to countess cordula. then the constant turmoil all day long and until late at night! it is fortunate that they do not lodge with us in the front of the house! it would be very bad for my mother!" "then you can rejoice over the departure all the more cordially," observed wolff. "it will hardly cause us much sorrow," els admitted. "yet the young countess brings much merriment into our quiet house. she is certainly a tireless madcap, and it will vex your proud sister isabella to know that your brother-in-law siebenburg is one of her admirers. did she not go to the town hall?" "no," wolff answered; "the twins have changed her wonderfully. you saw the dress my mother pressed upon her for the ball--genoese velvet and venetian lace! its cost would have bought a handsome house. she was inclined, too, to appear as a young mother at the festival, and i assure you that she looked fairly regal in the magnificent attire. but this morning, after she had bathed the little boys, she changed her mind. though my mother, and even my grandmother, urged her to go, she insisted that she belonged to the twins, and that some evil would befall the little ones if she left them." "that is noble!" cried els in delight, "and if i should ever---. yet no, isabella and i cannot be compared. my husband will never be numbered among the admirers of another woman, like your detestable brother-in-law. besides, he is wasting time with cordula. her worldliness repels eva, it is true, but i have heard many pleasant things about her. alas! she is a motherless girl, and her father is an old reveller and huntsman, who rejoices whenever she does any audacious act. but he keeps his purse open to her, and she is kind-hearted and obliging to a degree----" "equalled by few," interrupted wolff, with a sneer. "the men know how to praise her for it. no paternoster would be imposed upon her in the confessional on account of cruel harshness." "nor for a sinful or a spiteful deed," replied els positively. "don't say anything against her to me, wolff, in spite of your dissolute brother-in-law. i have enough to do to intercede for her with eva and aunt kunigunde since she singed and oiled the locks of a swiss knight belonging to the emperor's court. our katterle brought the coals. but many other girls do that, since courtesy permits it. her train to the town hall certainly made a very brave show; the fifty freight waggons you are expecting will scarcely form a longer line." the young merchant started. the comparison roused his forgotten anxiety afresh, and after a few brief, tender words of farewell he left the object of his love. els gazed thoughtfully after him; the moonlight revealed his tall, powerful figure for a long time. her heart throbbed faster, and she felt more deeply than ever how warmly she loved him. he moved as though some heavy burden of care bowed his strong shoulders. she would fain have hastened after him, clung to him, and asked what troubled him, what he was concealing from her who was ready to share everything with him, but the frauenthor, through which he entered the city, already hid him from her gaze. she turned back into the room with a faint sigh. it could scarcely be solely anxiety about his expected goods that burdened her lover's mind. true, his weak, arrogant mother, and still more his grandmother, the daughter of a count, who lived with them in the eysvogel house and still ruled her daughter as if she were a child, had opposed her engagement to wolff, but their resistance had ceased since the betrothal. on the other hand, she had often heard that fran eysvogel, the haughty mother, dowerless herself, had many poor and extravagant relations besides her daughter and her debt-laden, pleasure-loving husband, sir seitz siebenburg, who, it could not be denied, all drew heavily upon the coffers of the ancient mercantile house. yet it was one of the richest in nuremberg. yes, something of which she was still ignorant must be oppressing wolff, and, with the firm resolve to give him no peace until he confessed everything to her, she returned to the couch of her invalid mother. chapter ii. wolff had scarcely vanished from the street, and els from the window, when a man's slender figure appeared, as if it had risen from the earth, beside the spurge-laurel tree at the left of the house. directly after some one rapped lightly on the pavement of the yard, and in a few minutes the heavy ironbound oak doors opened and a woman's hand beckoned to the late guest, who glided swiftly along in the narrow line of shadow cast by the house and vanished through the entrance. the moon looked after him doubtfully. in former days the narrowshouldered fellow had been seen near the ortlieb house often enough, and his movements had awakened luna's curiosity; for he had been engaged in amorous adventure even when work was still going on at the recently completed convent of st. clare--an institution endowed by the ebner brothers, to which herr ernst ortlieb added a considerable sum. at that time--about three years before--the bold fellow had gone there to keep tryst evening after evening, and the pretty girl who met him was katterle, the waiting maid of the beautiful els, as nuremberg folk called the ortlieb sisters, els and eva. many vows of ardent, changeless love for her had risen to the moon, and the outward aspect of the man who made them afforded a certain degree of assurance that he would fulfil his pledges, for he then wore the long dark robe of reputable people, and on the front of his cap, from which a net shaped like a bag hung down his back, was a large s, and on the left shoulder of his long coat a t, the initials of the words steadfast and true. they bore witness that the person who had them embroidered on his clothing deemed these virtues the highest and noblest. it might have been believed that the lean fellow, who scarcely looked his five-and-thirty years, possessed these lofty traits of character; for, though three full years had passed since his last meeting with katterle at the building site, he had gone to his sweetheart with his wonted steadfastness and truth immediately after the emperor rudolph's entry. he had given her reason to rely upon him; but the moon's gaze reaches far, and had discovered the quality of walther biberli's "steadfastness and truth." in one respect it proved the best and noblest; for among thousands of servitors the moon had not seen one who clung to his lord with more loyal devotion. towards pretty young women, on the contrary, he displayed his principal virtues in a very singular way; for the pallid nocturnal wanderer above had met him in various lands and cities, and wherever he tarried long another maid was added to the list of those to whom biberli vowed steadfastness and truth. true, whenever sir long coat's travels led him back to any one to whom he had sworn eternal love, he went first to her, if she, too, retained the old affection. but katterle had cause to care for him most, for he was more warmly devoted to her than to any of the others, and in his own fashion his intentions were honest. he seriously intended, as soon as his master left the imperial court--which he hoped would not happen too soon--and returned to his ancestral castle in his native switzerland, to establish a home of his own for his old age, and no one save katterle should light the hearth fire. her outward circumstances pleased him, as well as her disposition and person. she was free-born, like himself--the son of a forest keeper--and, again like him, belonged to a swiss family; her heritage (she was an orphan), which consisted of a house and arable land in her home, sarnen, where she still sent her savings, satisfied his requirements. but above all she believed in him and admired his versatile mind and his experience. moreover, she gave him absolute obedience, and loved him so loyally that she had remained unwedded, though a number of excellent men had sought her in marriage. katterle had met him for the first time more than three years before when, after the battle of marchfield, he remained several weeks in nuremberg. they had sat side by side at a tournament, and, recognising each other as swiss-born by the sharp sound of the letters "ch" and the pronunciation of other words, were mutually attracted. katterle had a kind heart; yet at that time she almost yielded to the temptation to pray heaven not to hasten the cure of a brave man's wounds too quickly, for she knew that biberli was a squire in the service of the young swiss knight heinz schorlin, whose name was on every lip because, in spite of his youth, he had distinguished himself at the battle of marchfield by his rare bravery, and that the young hero would remain in nuremberg only until his severe injuries were completely healed. his departure would bring to her separation from his servant, and sometimes when homesickness tortured her she thought she would be unable to survive the parting. meanwhile biberli nursed his master with faithful zeal, as if nothing bound him to nuremberg, and even after his departure katterle remained in good health. now she had him again. directly after the emperor rudolph's entrance, five days before, biberli had come openly to the ortlieb house and presented himself to martsche,--[margaret]--the old house keeper, as the countryman and friend of the waiting maid, who had brought her a message from home. true, it had been impossible to say anything confidential either in the crowded kitchen or in the servants' hall. to-night's meeting was to afford the opportunity. the menservants, carrying sedan chairs and torches, had all gone out with their master, who had taken his younger daughter, eva, to the dance. they were to wait in front of the town hall, because it was doubtful whether the daughter of the house, who had been very reluctant to go to the entertainment, might not urge an early departure. count von montfort, whose quarters were in the ortlieb mansion, and his whole train of male attendants, certainly would not come back till very late at night or even early morning, for the countess cordula remained at a ball till the close, and her father lingered over the wine cup till his daughter called him from the revellers. all this warranted the lovers in hoping for an undisturbed interview. the place of meeting was well chosen. it was unsatisfactory only to the moon for, after biberli had closed the heavy door of the house behind him, luna found no chink or crevice through which a gliding ray might have watched what the true and steadfast biberli was saying to katterle. there was one little window beside the door, but it was closed, and the opening was covered with sheepskin. so the moon's curiosity was not gratified. instead of her silver rays, the long entry of the ortlieb house, with its lofty ceiling, was illumined only by the light of three lanterns, which struggled dimly through horn panes. the shining dots in a dark corner of the spacious corridor were the eyes of a black cat, watching there for rats and mice. the spot really possessed many advantages for the secret meeting of two lovers, for as it ran through the whole width of the house, it had two doors, one leading to the street, the other into the yard. in the right wall of the entry there were also two small doors, reached by a flight of steps. at this hour both closed empty rooms, for the office and the chamber where herr ernst ortlieb received his business friends had not been occupied since sunset, and the bathroom and dressing-room adjoining were used only during the day. true, some unbidden intruder might have come down the long broad staircase leading to the upper story. but in that case the lovers had the best possible hiding-place close at hand, for here large and small boxes, standing side by side and one above another, formed a protecting wall; yonder heaps of sacks and long rows of casks afforded room for concealment behind them. rolls of goods packed in sacking leaned against the chests, inviting a fugitive to slip back of them, and surely no one would suspect the presence of a pair of lovers in the rear of these mountains of hides and bales wrapped in matting. still it would scarcely have been advisable to remain near them; for these packages, which the ortlieb house brought from venice, contained pepper and other spices that exhaled a pungent odor, endurable only by hardened nerves. valuable goods of various kinds lay here until they could be placed in cellars or storehouses or sold. but there was many an empty space, too, in the broad corridor for, spite of emperor rudolph's strictness, robbery on the highroads had by no means ceased, and herr ernst ortlieb was still compelled to use caution in the transportation of costly wares. after biberli and his sweetheart had assured themselves that the ardour of their love had by no means cooled, they sat down on some bags filled with cloves and related to each other the experiences through which they had passed during the period of separation. katterle's life had flowed on in a pleasant monotony. she had no cause to complain of her employers. fran maria ortlieb, the invalid mistress of the house, rarely needed her services. during a ride to visit relatives in ulm, the travellers, who were under the same escort of men at arms as a number of nuremberg freight waggons, had been attacked by the robber knights absbach and hirschhorn. an arrow had struck frau ortlieb's palfrey, causing the unfortunate woman a severe fall, which produced an internal injury, from which she had not yet recovered. the assault resulted unfortunately for young hirschhorn, who led it; he met with a shameful death on the gallows. the information enraged biberli. instead of feeling any sympathy for the severely injured lady, he insisted that the nuremberg burghers had dealt with hirschhorn in a rascally fashion; for he was a knight, and therefore, as honest judges familiar with the law, they ought to have put him to death by the sword instead of with the rope. and katterle agreed with him; she never contradicted his opinions, and surely biberli must know what treatment befitted a knight, since he was the foster-brother of one. nor did the maid, who was in the personal service of the daughters of the house, make any complaint against them. indeed, she could not praise els, the elder, sufficiently. she was very just, the careful nurse of her invalid mother, and always unvarying in her cheerful kindness. she had no fault to find with eva either, especially as she was more religious than any one in the whole house. spite of her marvellous beauty--katterle knew that there was nothing false about it--she would probably end by joining the nuns in the convent. but her mood changed with every breath, like the weathercock on the steeple. if she got out of bed the wrong way, or one did not guess her wishes before they were uttered, she would fly into a rage at the least trifle. then she sometimes used very unkind words; but no one could cherish anger against her long, for she had an indescribably lovely manner of trying to atone for the offences which her hasty young blood made her commit. she had gone to the ball that night as if it were a funeral; she shunned men like poison, and even kept out of the way of her sister's friends. biberli laughed, as if there could be no doubt of his opinion, and exclaimed: "just wait a while! my master will meet her at the town hall tonight, and if the scrawny little squirrel i saw three years ago has really grown up into such a beauty, if he does not get on her track and capture her, my name isn't biberli." "but surely," replied katterle doubtfully, "you told me that you had not yet succeeded in persuading him to imitate you in steadfastness and truth." "but he is a knight," replied the servant, striking himself pompously under the t on his shoulder, as if he, too, belonged to this favoured class, "and so he is as free to pursue a woman as to hunt the game in the forest. and my heinz schorlin! you saw him, and admitted that he was worth looking at. and that was when he had scarcely recovered from his dangerous wounds, while now----the french knight de preully, in paris, with whom my dead foster-brother, until he fell sick-----" here he hesitated; an enquiring look from his sweetheart showed that--perhaps for excellent reasons--he had omitted to tell her about his sojourn in paris. now that he had grown older and abandoned the wild revelry of that period in favour of truth and steadfastness, he quietly related everything she desired to know. he had acquired various branches of learning while sharing the studies of his foster-brother, the eldest son of the old knight schorlin, who was then living, and therefore, when scarcely twenty, was appointed schoolmaster at stansstadt. perhaps he might have continued to teach-for he promised to be successful--had not a vexatious discovery disgusted him with his calling. he was informed that the mercenaries in the schnitzthurm guard were paid five shillings a week more than he, spite of the knowledge he had gained by so much toil. in his indignation he went back to schorlin castle, which was always open to him, and he arrived just at the right time. his present master's older brother, whose health had always been delicate, being unable to follow the profession of arms, was on the eve of departing to attend the university at paris, accompanied by the chaplain and an equerry. when the lady wendula, his master's mother, learned what an excellent reputation biberli had gained as a schoolmaster, she persuaded her husband to send him as esquire with their sickly son. in paris there was at first no lack of pleasures of every description, especially as they met among the king's mercenaries many a dissolute swiss knight and man at arms. his foster-brother, to his sorrow, was unable to resist the temptations which satan scatters in paris as the peasants elsewhere sow rye and oats, and the young knight was soon attacked, by a severe illness. then biberli's gay life ended too. for months he did not leave his foster-brother's sick bed a single hour, by day or night, until death released him from his suffering. on his return to castle schorlin he found many changes; the old knight had been called away from earth a few days before his son's death, and heinz schorlin, his present master, had fallen heir to castle and lands. this, however, was no great fortune, for the large estates of the schorlin family were burdened by heavy debts. the dead lord, as countryman, boon companion, and brother in arms of the emperor rudolph, had been always ready to place his sword at his service, and whenever a great tournament was held he never failed to be present. so the property had been consumed, and the lady wendula and her son and three daughters were left in moderate circumstances. the two older girls had taken the veil, while the youngest, a merry little maiden, lived with her mother. but the emperor rudolph had by no means forgotten the lady wendula and her dead husband, and with the utmost kindness requested her to send him her only son as soon as he was able to wield a sword and lance. he intended to repay heinz for the love and loyalty his father had shown him through his whole life. "and the hapsburg," biberli added, "had kept his word." in a few years his young lord was ready for a position at court. gotthard von ramsweg, the lady wendula's older brother, a valiant knight, went to his sister's home after her husband's death to manage the estate and instruct his nephew in all the exercises of knighthood. soon the strong, agile, fearless son of a brave father, under the guidance of such a teacher, excelled many an older youth. he was barely eighteen when the lady wendula sent him to his imperial master. she had given him, with her blessing, fiery horses, the finest pieces of his father's suits of mail, an armour bearer, and a groom to take with him on his journey; and his uncle had agreed to accompany him to lausanne, where the emperor rudolph was then holding his court to discuss with pope gregory--the tenth of the name--arrangements for a new crusade. but nothing had yet been said about biberli. on the evening before the young noble's departure, however, a travelling minstrel came to the castle, who sang of the deeds of former crusaders, and alluded very touchingly to the loneliness of the wounded knight, herr weisenthau, on his couch of pain. then the lady wendula remembered her eldest son, and the fraternal tendance which biberli had given him. "and so," the servant went on, "in the anxiety of a mother's heart she urged me to accompany heinz, her darling, as esquire; and watch over his welfare." "since i could use a pen, i was to write now and then what a mother desires to hear of a son. she felt great confidence in me, because she believed that i was true and steadfast. and i have kept in every respect the vow i then made to the lady wendula--that she should not find herself mistaken in me. i remember that evening as if it were only yesterday. to keep constantly before my eyes the praise my mistress had bestowed upon me, i ventured to ask my young master' sister to embroider the t and the s on the cap and the new coat, and the young lady did so that very night. since that time these two initials have gone with me wherever our horses bear us, and as, after the battle of marchfield, biberli nursed his master back to health with care and toil, he thinks he can prove to you, his sole sweetheart, that he wears his t and s with good reason." in return for these words katterle granted her friend the fitting reward with such resignation that it was robbing the moon not to permit her to look on. her curiosity, however, was not to remain wholly ungratified; for when biberli found that it was time for him to repair to the town hall to learn whether his master, heinz schorlin, needed his services, katterle came out of the house door with him. they found much more to say and to do ere they parted. first, the swiss maid-servant wished to know how the emperor rudolph had received heinz schorlin; and she had the most gratifying news. during their stay at lausanne, where he won the victory in a tournament, heinz was knighted; but after the battle of marchfield he became still dearer to the emperor, especially when a firm friendship united the young swiss to hartmann, rudolph's eighteen-year-old son, who was now on the rhine. that very day heinz had received a tangible proof of the imperial favour, on account of which he had gone to the dance in an extremely cheerful mood. this good news concerning the knight, whom her young mistress had perhaps already met, awakened in the maid, who was not averse to the business of matchmaking, so dear to her sex, very aspiring plans which aimed at nothing less than a union between eva and heinz schorlin. but biberli had scarcely perceived the purport of katterle's words when he anxiously interrupted her and, declaring that he had already lingered too long, cut short the suggestion by taking leave. his master's marriage to a young girl who belonged to the city nobility, which in his eyes was far inferior in rank to a knight schorlin, should cast no stone in the pathway of fame that was leading him so swiftly upward. many things must happen before biberli could honestly advise him to give up his present free and happy life and seek rest in his own nest. if eva ortlieb were as lovely as the virgin herself, and sir heinz's inflammable heart should blaze as fervently as it always did, she should not lure him into the paralysing bondage of wedlock so long as he was there and watched over him. if he must be married, biberli had something else in view for him-something which would make him a great lord at a single stroke. but it was too soon even for that. when he crossed the fleischbrucke in the market place and approached the brilliantly lighted town hall, he had considerable difficulty in moving forward, for the whole square was thronged with curious spectators, servants in gala liveries, sedan chairs, richly caparisoned steeds, and torchbearers. the von montfort retinue, which had quarters in the ortlieb house, was one of the most brilliant and numerous of all, and biberli's eyes wandered with a look of satisfaction over the gold-mounted sedan chair of the young countess. he would rather have given his master to her than to the nuremberg maiden whom katterle compared to a weathercock, and who therefore certainly did not possess the lofty virtue of steadfastness. chapter iii. sir heinz schorlin's servant was on intimate terms with many of the servitors of the imperial family, and one of them conducted him to the balcony of the city pipers, which afforded a view of the great hall. the emperor sat there at the head of the banquet table, and by his side, on a lower throne, his sister, the burgravine von zollern. only the most distinguished and aristocratic personages whom the reichstag attracted to nuremberg, with their ladies, shared the feast given by the city in their honour. but yonder, at a considerable distance from them, though within the space enclosed by a black and yellow silk cord, separated from the glittering throng of the other guests, he perceived--he would not trust his own eyes--the knight heinz schorlin, and by his side a wonderfully charming young girl. biberli had not seen eva ortlieb for three years, yet he knew that it was no other than she. but into what a lovely creature the active, angular child with the thin little arms had developed! the hall certainly did not lack superb women of all ages and every style of figure and bearing suited to please the eye. many might even boast of more brilliant, aristocratic beauty, but not one could vie in witchery with her on whom katterle had cast an eye for his master. she had only begun a modest allusion to it, but even that was vexatious; for biberli fancied that she had thereby "talked of the devil," and he did not wish him to appear. with a muttered imprecation, by no means in harmony with his character, he prepared to leave the balcony; but the scene below, though it constantly filled him with fresh vexation, bound him to the spot as if by some mysterious spell. especially did he fancy that he had a bitter taste in his mouth when his gaze noted the marvellous symmetry of heinz schorlin's powerful though not unusually tall figure, his beautiful waving locks, and the aristocratic ease with which he wore his superb velvet robe-sapphire blue on the left side and white on the right, embroidered with silver falconsor perceived how graciously the noblest of the company greeted him after. the banquet; not, indeed, from envy, but because it pierced his very heart to think that this splendid young favourite of fortune, already so renowned, whom he warmly loved, should throw himself away on the daughter of a city merchant, though his motley wares, which he had just seen, were adorned by the escutcheon of a noble house. but heinz schorlin had already been attracted by many more aristocratic fair ones, only to weary of them speedily enough. this time, also, biberli would have relied calmly on his fickleness had katterle's foolish wish only remained unuttered, and had heinz treated his companion in the gay, bold fashion which usually marked his manner to other ladies. but his glance had a modest, almost devout expression when he gazed into the large blue eyes of the merchant's daughter. and now she raised them! it could not fail to bewitch the most obdurate woman hater! faithful, steadfast biberli clenched his fists, and once even thought of shouting "fire!", into the ballroom below to separate all who were enjoying themselves there wooing and being wooed. but those beneath perceived neither him nor his wrath--least of all his master and the young girl who had come hither so reluctantly. at home eva had really done everything in her power to be permitted to stay away from the town hall. herr ernst ortlieb, her father, however, had been inflexible. the chin of the little man with beardless face and hollow cheeks had even begun to tremble, and this was usually the precursor of an outburst of sudden wrath which sometimes overpowered him to such a degree that he committed acts which he afterwards regretted. this time he had been compelled not to tolerate the opposition of his obstinate child. emperor rudolph himself had urged the "honourable" members of the council to gratify him and his daughter-in-law agnes, whom he wished to entertain pleasantly during her brief visit, by the presence of their beautiful wives and daughters at the entertainment in the town hall. herr ortlieb's invalid wife could not spare els, her older daughter and faithful nurse, so he required eva's obedience, and compelled her to give up her opposition to attending the festival; but she dreaded the vain, worldly gaiety--nay, actually felt a horror of it. even while still a pupil at the convent school she had often asked herself whether it would not be the fairest fate for her, like her aunt kunigunde, the abbess of the convent of st. clare, to vow herself to the saviour and give up perishable joys to secure the rapture of heaven, which lasted throughout eternity, and might begin even here on earth, in a quiet life with god, a complete realisation of the saviour's loving nature, and the great sufferings which he took upon himself for love's sake. oh, even suffering and bleeding with the most high were rich in mysterious delight! aye, no earthly happiness could compare with the blissful feeling left by those hours of pious ecstasy. often she had sat with closed eyes for a long time, dreaming that she was in the kingdom of heaven and, herself an angel, dwelt with angels. how often she had wondered whether earthly love could bestow greater joy than such a happy dream, or the walks through the garden and forest, during which the abbess told her of st. francis of assisi, who founded her order, the best and most warmhearted among the successors of christ, of whom the pope himself said that he would hear even those whom god would not! moreover, there was no plant, no flower, no cry of any animal in the woods which was not familiar to the abbess kunigunde. like st. francis; she distinguished in everything which the ear heard and the eye beheld voices that bore witness to the goodness and greatness of the most high. the abbess felt bound by ties of sisterly affection to every one of god's creatures, and taught eva to love them, too, and, as a person who treats a child kindly wins the mother's heart also, to obtain by love of his creatures that of the creator. others had blamed her because she held aloof from her sister's friends and amusements. they were ignorant of the joys of solitude, which her aunt and her saint had taught her to know. she had endured interruptions and reproaches, often humbly, oftener still, when her hot blood swept away her self-control, with vehement indignation and tears; but meanwhile she had always cherished the secret thought that the time would come when she, too, would be permitted, at one with god and the saviour, to enjoy the raptures of eternal bliss. she loved her invalid mother and, often as his sudden fits of passion alarmed her, she was tenderly attached to her father; yet it would have seemed to her an exquisite delight to be permitted to imitate the saints and sever all bonds which united her to the world and its clogging demands. she had long been yearning for the day when she would be allowed to entreat the abbess to grant her admittance to the convent, whose doors would be flung wide open for her because, next to the brothers ebner, who founded it, her parents had contributed the largest sum for its support. but she was obliged to wait patiently, for els, her older sister, would probably soon marry her wolff, and then it would be her turn to nurse her invalid mother. her own heart dictated this, and the abbess had said: "let her enter eternity clasping your hand before you begin, with us, to devote all your strength to securing your own salvation. besides, you will thereby ascend a long row of steps nearer to your sublime goal." but eva would far rather have given her hand now, aloof from the world, to the most high in an inviolable bond. what marvel that, with such a goal in view, she was deeply reluctant to enter the gay whirl of a noisy ball! with serious repugnance she had allowed katterle and her sister to adorn her, and entered the sedan chair which was to convey her to the town hall. doubtless her own image, reflected in the mirror, had seemed charming enough, and the loud expressions of delight from the servants and others who admired her rich costume had pleased her; but directly after she realized the vanity of this emotion and, while approaching the ballroom in her chair, she prayed to her saint to help her conquer it. striving honestly to vanquish this error, she entered the hall soon after the emperor and his young daughter-in-law; but there she was greeted from the balcony occupied by the city pipers and musicians, long before biberli entered it, with the same fanfare that welcomed the illustrious guests of the city, and with which blended the blare of the heralds' trumpets. thousands of candles in the chandeliers and candelabra diffused a radiance as brilliant as that of day and, confused by the noise and waves of light which surged around her, she had drawn closer to her father, clinging to him for protection. she especially missed her sister, with whom she had grown up, who had become her second self, and whom she needed most when she emerged from her quiet life of introspection into the gay world. at first she had stood with downcast lashes, but soon her eyes wandered over the waving plumes and flashing jewels, the splendour of silk and velvet, the glitter of gold and glimmer of pearls. sometimes the display in church had been scarcely less brilliant, and even without her sister's request she had gazed at it, but how entirely different it was! there she had rejoiced in her own modest garb, and told herself that her simplicity was more pleasing to god and the saints than the vain splendour of the others, which she might so easily have imitated or even surpassed. but here the anxious question of how she appeared among the rest of the company forced itself upon her. true, she knew that the brocade suckenie, which her father had ordered from milan, was costly; that the sea-green hue of the right side harmonised admirably with the white on the left; that the tendrils and lilies of the valley wrought in silver, which seemed to be scattered over the whole, looked light and airy; yet she could not shake off the feeling that everything she wore was in disorder--here something was pulled awry, there something was crushed. els, who had attended to her whole toilet, was not there to arrange it, and she felt thoroughly uncomfortable in the midst of this worldly magnificence and bustle. notwithstanding her father's presence, she had never been so desolate as among these ladies and gentlemen, nearly all of whom were strangers. her sister was intimate with the other girls of her age and station, few of whom were absent, and if eva could have conjured her to her side doubtless many would have joined them; but she knew no one well, and though many greeted her, no one lingered. everybody had friends with whom they were on far more familiar terms. the young countess von montfort, a girl of her own age and an inmate of her own home, also gave her only a passing word. but this was agreeable to her--she disliked cordula's free manners. many who were friends of els had gathered around ursula vorchtel, the daughter of the richest man in the city, and she intentionally avoided the ortliebs because, before wolff eysvogel sued for els's hand, he and ursula had been intended for each other. eva was just secretly vowing that this first ball should also be the last, when the imperial magistrate, herr berthold pfinzing, her godfather, came to present her to the emperor, who had requested to see the little daughter of the herr ernst ortlieb whose son had fallen in battle for him. his "little saint," herr pfinzing added, looked no less lovely amid the gay music of the nuremberg pipers than kneeling in prayer amid the notes of the organ. every tinge of colour had faded from eva's cheeks, and though a few hours before she had asked her sister what the emperor's greatness signified in the presence of god that she should be forced, for his sake, to be faithless to the holiest things, now fear of the majesty of the powerful sovereign made her breath come quicker. how, clinging to her godfather's hand, she reached the emperor rudolph's throne she could never describe, for what happened afterwards resembled a confused dream of mingled bliss and pain, from which she was first awakened by her father's warning that the time of departure had come. when she raised her downcast eyes the monarch was standing before the throne placed for him. she had been compelled to bend her head backward in order to see his face, for his figure, seven feet in height, towered like a statue of roland above all who surrounded him. but when, after the austrian duchess, his daughter-in-law, who was scarcely beyond childhood, and the burgrave von zollern, his sister, had graciously greeted her, and eva with modest thanks had also bowed low before the emperor rudolph, a smile, spite of her timidity, flitted over her lips, for as she bent the knee her head barely reached above his belt. the burgravine, a vivacious matron, must have noticed it, for she beckoned to her, and with a few kind words mentioned the name of the young knight who stood behind her, between her own seat and that of the young duchess agnes of austria, and recommended him as an excellent dancer. heinz schorlin, the master of the true and steadfast biberli, had bowed courteously, and answered respectfully that he hoped he should not prove himself unworthy of praise from such lips. meanwhile his glance met eva's, and the burgravine probably perceived with what, ardent admiration the knight's gaze rested on the young nuremberg beauty, for she had scarcely stepped back after the farewell greeting when the noble lady said in a low tone, but loud enough for eva's quick ear to catch the words, "methinks yonder maiden will do well to guard her little heart this evening against you, you unruly fellow! what a sweet, angelic face!" eva's cheeks crimsoned with mingled shame and pleasure at such words from such lips, and she would have been only too glad to hear what the knight whispered to the noble lady. the attention of the young duchess agnes, daughter of king ottocar of bohemia and wife of the emperor's third son, who also bore the name of rudolph, had been claimed during this incident by the duke of nassau, who had presented his ladies to her, but they had scarcely retired when she beckoned to heinz schorlin, and while talking with him gazed into his eyes with such warm, childlike pleasure that eva was incensed; she thought it unseemly for a wife and a duchess to be on such familiar terms with a simple knight. nay, her disapproval of the princess's conduct must have been very deep, for during the whole time of her conversation with the knight there was a loud singing in the young girl's ears. the bohemian's face might be considered pretty; her dark eyes sparkled brightly, animating the immature features, now slightly sunburnt; and although four years younger than eva, her figure, though not above middle height, was well developed and, in spite of its flexibility, aristocratic in bearing. while conversing with heinz schorlin she seemed joyously excited, unrestrainedly cordial, but her manner expressed disappointment and royal hauteur as another group of ladies and gentlemen came forward to be presented, compelling her to turn her back upon the young swiss with a regretful shrug of her shoulders. the counts and countesses, knights and ladies who thronged around her concealed her from eva's eyes, who, now that heinz schorlin had left the bohemian, again turned her attention to the emperor, and even ventured to approach him. what paternal gentleness rudolph's deep tones expressed! how much his face attracted her! true, it could make no pretensions to beauty--the thin, hooked nose was far too large and long; the corners of the mouth drooped downward too much; perhaps it was this latter peculiarity which gave the whole face so sorrowful an aspect. eva thought she knew its source. the wound dealt a few months before by the death of his faithful wife, the love of his youth, still ached. his eyes could not be called either large or bright; but how kindly, how earnest, shrewd and, when an amusing thought passed through his mind, how mischievous they could look! his light-brown hair had not yet turned very grey, spite of his sixty-three years, but the locks had lost their luxuriance and fell straight, except for a slight curl at the lower ends, below his neck. eva's father, when a young man, had met frederic ii, of the hohenstaufen line, in italy, and was wont to call this a special boon of fate. true, her aunt, the abbess, said she did not envy him the honour of meeting the antichrist; yet that very day after mass she had counselled eva to impress the emperor rudolph's appearance on her memory. to meet noble great men elevates our hearts and makes us better, because in their presence we become conscious of our own insignificance and the duty of emulating them. she would willingly have given more than a year of her life to be permitted to gaze into the pure, loving countenance of st. francis, who had closed his eyes seven years after her birth. so eva, who was accustomed to render strict obedience to her honoured aunt, honestly strove to watch every movement of the emperor; but her attention had been continually diverted, mainly by the young knight, from whom--the emperor's sister, burgravine elizabeth, had said so herself-danger threatened her heart. but the young countess cordula von montfort, the inmate of her home, also compelled her to gaze after her, for heinz schorlin had approached the vivacious native of the vorarlberg, and the freedom with which she treated him--allowing herself to go so far as to tap him on the arm with her fan--vexed and offended her like an insult offered to her whole sex. to think that a girl of high station should venture upon such conduct before the eyes of the emperor and his sister! not for the world would she have permitted any man to talk and laugh with her in such a way. but the young knight whom she saw do this was again the swiss. yet his bright eyes had just rested upon her with such devout admiration that lack of respect for a lady was certainly not in his nature, and he merely found himself compelled, contrary to his wish, to defend himself against the countess and her audacity. eva had already heard much praise of the great valour of the young knight heinz schorlin. when katterle, whose friend and countryman was in his service, spoke of him--and that happened by no means rarely--she had always called him a devout knight, and that he was so, in truth, he showed her plainly enough; for there was fervent devotion in the eyes which now again sought hers like an humble penitent. the musicians had just struck up the polish dance, and probably the knight, whom the emperor's sister had recommended to her for a partner, wished by this glance to apologise for inviting countess cordula von montfort instead. therefore she did not need to avoid the look, and might obey the impulse of her heart to give him a warning in the language of the eyes which, though mute, is yet so easily understood. hitherto she had been unable to answer him, even by a word, yet she believed that she was destined to become better acquainted, if only to show him that his power, of which the burgravine had spoken, was baffled when directed against the heart of a pious maiden. and something must also attract him to her, for while she had the honour of being escorted up and down the hall by one of the handsome sons of the burgrave von zollern to the music of the march performed by the city pipers, heinz schorlin, it is true, did the same with his lady, but he looked away from her and at eva whenever she passed him. her partner was talkative enough, and his description of the german order which he expected to enter, as his two brothers had already done, would have seemed to her well worthy of attention at any other time, but now she listened with but partial interest. when the dance was over and sir heinz approached, her heart beat so loudly that she fancied her neighbours must hear it; but ere he had spoken a single word old burgrave frederick himself greeted her, inquired about her invalid mother, her blithe sister, and her aunt, the abbess, who in her youth had been the queen of every dance, and asked if she found his son a satisfactory partner. it was an unusual distinction to be engaged in conversation by this distinguished gentleman, yet eva would fain have sent him far away, and her replies must have sounded monosyllabic enough; but the sweet shyness that overpowered her so well suited the modest young girl, who had scarcely passed beyond childhood, that he did not leave her until the 'rai' began, and then quitted her with the entreaty that she would remove the cap which had hitherto rendered her invisible, to the injury of knights and gentlemen, and be present at the dance which he should soon give at the castle. the pleasant old nobleman had scarcely left her when she turned towards the young man who had just approached with the evident intention of leading her to the dance, but he was again standing beside cordula von montfort, and a feeling of keen resentment overpowered her. the young countess was challenging his attention still more boldly, tossing her head back so impetuously that the turban-like roll on her hair, spite of the broad ribbon that fastened it under her chin, almost fell on the floor. but her advances not only produced no effect, but seemed to annoy the knight. what charm could he find in a girl who, in a costume which displayed the greatest extreme of fashion, resembled a turk rather than a christian woman? true, she had an aristocratic bearing, and perhaps els was right in saying that her strongly marked features revealed a certain degree of kindliness, but she wholly lacked the spell of feminine modesty. her pleasant grey eyes and full red lips seemed created only for laughter, and the plump outlines of her figure were better suited to a matron than a maiden in her early girlhood. not the slightest defect escaped eva during this inspection. meanwhile she remembered her own image in the mirror, and a smile of satisfaction hovered round her red lips. now the knight bowed. was he inviting the countess to dance again? no, he turned his back to her and approached eva, whose lovely, childlike face brightened as if a sun beam had shone upon it. the possibility of refusing her hand for the 'rai' never entered her head, but he told her voluntarily that he had invited countess cordula for the polish dance solely in consequence of the burgravine's command, but now that he was permitted to linger at her side he meant to make up for lost time. he kept his word, and was by no means content with the 'rai'; for, after the young duchess agnes had summoned him to a 'zauner', and during its continuance again talked with him far more confidentially than the modest nuremberg maiden could approve, he persuaded eva to try the 'schwabeln' with him also; and though she had always disliked such dances she yielded, and her natural grace, as well as her quick ear for time, helped her to catch the unfamiliar steps without difficulty. while doing so he whispered that even the angels in heaven could have no greater bliss than it afforded him to float thus through the hall, clasping her in his arm, while she glanced up at him with a happy look and bent her little head in assent. she would gladly have exclaimed warmly: "yes, indeed! yet the burgravine says that danger threatens me from you, you dear, kind fellow, and i should do well to avoid you." besides, she felt indebted to him. what would have befallen her here in his absence! moreover, it gave her a strange sense of pleasure to gaze into his eyes, allow herself to be borne through the wide hall by his strong arm, and while pressed closely to his side imagine that his swiftly throbbing heart felt the pulsing of her own. instead of injuring her, wishing her evil, and asking her to do anything wrong, he certainly had only good intentions. he had cared for her as if he occupied the place of her own brother who fell in the battle of marchfield. it would have given him most pleasure--he had said so himself--to dance everything with her, but decorum and the royal dames who kept him in attendance would not permit it. however, he came to her in every pause to exchange at least a few brief words and a glance. during the longest one, which lasted more than an hour and was devoted to the refreshment of the guests, he led her into a side room which had been transformed into a blossoming garden. seats were placed behind the green birch trees--amid whose boughs hung gay lamps--and the rose bushes which surrounded a fountain of perfumed water, and eva had already followed the swiss knight across the threshold when she saw among the branches at the end of the room the countess cordula, at whose feet several young nobles knelt or reclined, among them seitz siebenburg, the brother-in-law of wolff eysvogel, her sister's betrothed bridegroom. the manner of the husband and father whose wife, only six weeks before, had become the mother of twin babies--beautiful boys--and who for cordula's sake so shamefully forgot his duties, crimsoned her cheeks with a flush of anger, while the half-disapproving, half-troubled look that sir boemund altrosen cast, sometimes at the countess, sometimes at siebenburg, showed her that she herself was on the eve of doing something which the best persons could not approve; for altrosen, who leaned silently against the wall beside the countess, ever and anon pushing back the coal-black hair from his pale face, had been mentioned by her godfather as the noblest of the younger knights gathered in nuremberg. a voice in her own heart, too, cried out that this was no fitting place for her. if els had been with her, eva said to herself, she certainly would not have permitted her to enter this room, where such careless mirth prevailed, alone with a knight, and the thought roused her for a short time from the joyous intoxication in which she had hitherto revelled, and awakened a suspicion that there might be peril in trusting herself to heinz schorlin without reserve. "not here," she entreated, and he instantly obeyed her wish, though the countess cordula, as if he were alone, instead of with a lady, loudly and gaily bade him stay where pleasure had built a hut under roses. eva was pleased that her new friend did not even vouchsafe the young countess an answer. his obedience led her also to believe that her anxiety had been in vain. yet she imposed greater reserve of manner upon herself so rigidly that heinz noticed it, and asked what cloud had dimmed the pure radiance of her gracious sunshine. eva lowered her eyes and answered gently: "you ought not to have taken me where the diffidence due to modesty is forgotten." heinz schorlin understood her and rejoiced to hear the answer. in his eyes, also, countess cordula this evening had exceeded the limits even of the liberty which by common consent she was permitted above others. he believed that he had found in eva the embodiment of pure and beautiful womanhood. he had given her his heart from the first moment that their eyes met. to find her in every respect exactly what he had imagined, ere he heard a single word from her lips, enhanced the pleasure he felt to the deepest happiness which he had ever experienced. he had already been fired with a fleeting fancy for many a maiden, but not one had appeared to him, even in a remote degree, so lovable as this graceful young creature who trusted him with such childlike confidence, and whose innocent security by the side of the dreaded heart-breaker touched him. never before had it entered his mind concerning any girl to ask himself the question how she would please his mother at home. the thought that she whom he so deeply honoured might possess a magic mirror which showed her her reckless son as he dallied with the complaisant beauties whose graciousness, next to dice-playing, most inflamed his blood, had sometimes disturbed his peace of mind when biberli suggested it. but when eva looked joyously up at him with the credulous confidence of a trusting child, he could imagine no greater bliss than to hear his mother, clasping the lovely creature in her arms, call her her dear little daughter. his reckless nature was subdued, and an emotion of tenderness which he had never experienced before thrilled him as she whispered, "take me to a place where everybody can see us, but where we need not notice anyone else." how significant was that little word "we"! it showed that already she united herself and him in her thoughts. to her pure nature nothing could be acceptable which must be concealed from the light of the sun and the eyes of man. and her wish could be fulfilled. the place where biberli had discovered them, and where refreshments had just been served to the emperor and the ladies and gentlemen nearest to his person, who had been joined by several princes of the church, was shut off by the bannerets, thus preventing the entrance of any uninvited person; but heinz schorlin belonged to the sovereign's suite and had admittance everywhere. so he led eva behind the black and yellow rope to two vacant chairs at the end of the enclosed space where the banquet had been swiftly arranged for the emperor and the other illustrious guests of nuremberg. these seats were in view of the whole company, yet it would have been as difficult to interrupt him and his lady as any of the table companions of the imperial pair. eva followed the knight without anxiety, and took her place beside him in the well-chosen seat. a young cup-bearer of noble birth, with whom heinz was well acquainted, brought unasked to him and his companion sparkling malvoisie in venetian glasses, and heinz began the conversation by inviting eva to drink to the many days brightened by her favour which, if the saints heard his prayer, should follow this, the most delightful evening of his life. he omitted to ask her to pour the wine for him, knowing that many of the guests in the ballroom were watching them; besides the saucy little count came again and again to fill his goblet, and he wished to avoid everything which might elicit sarcastic comment. the young cupbearer desisted as soon as he noticed the respectful reserve with which heinz treated his lady, and the youth was soon obliged to leave the hall with his liege lord, duke rudolph of austria, who was to set out for carinthia early the following morning, and withdrew with his wife without sharing the banquet. the latter accompanied her husband to the castle, but she was to remain in nuremberg during the session of the reichstag with the lonely widowed emperor, who was especially fond of the young bohemian princess. before and during the dance with heinz the latter had requested him to use the noble arabian steed, a gift from the sultan kalaun to the emperor, who had bestowed it upon her, and also expressed the hope of meeting the knight frequently. in the conversation which heinz began with eva he was at first obliged to defend himself, for she had admitted that she had heard the burgravine's warning to beware of him. at the same time she had found opportunity to tell him that her heart yearned for something different from worldly love, and that she felt safe from every one because st. clare was constantly watching over her. he replied that he had been reared in piety, that he knew the close relations existing between her patron saint and the holy francis of assisi, and that he, too, had experienced many things from this man of god. eva, with warm interest, asked when and where, and he willingly told her. on the way from augsburg to nuremberg, while riding in advance of the imperial court, he had met an old barefooted man who, exhausted by the heat of the day, had sunk down by the side of the road as if lifeless, with his head resting against the trunk of a tree. moved with compassion, he dismounted, to try to do something for the greybeard. a few sips of wine had restored him to consciousness, but his weary, wounded feet would carry him no farther. yet it would have grieved the old man sorely to be forced to interrupt his journey, for the chapter general in portiuncula, in italy, had sent him with an important message to the brothers of his order in germany, and especially in nuremberg. the old minorite monk was especially dignified in aspect, and when he chanced to mention that he had known st. francis well and was one of those who had nursed him during his last illness, a dispute had arisen between heinz schorlin, the armor bearer, and his servant walther biberli, for each desired to give up his saddle to the old man and pursue his journey on foot for his sake and the praise of god. but the minorite could not be persuaded to break his vow never again to mount a knight's charger and, even had it not been evident from his words, heinz asserted that the aristocratic dignity of his bearing would have shown that he belonged to a noble race. biberli's eloquence gained the victory in this case also, and though the groom led by the bridle another young stallion which the ex-schoolmaster might have mounted, he had walked cheerily beside the old monk, sweeping up the dust with his long robe. at the tavern the knight and his attendants had been abundantly repaid for their kindness to the minorite, for his conversation was both entertaining and edifying; and heinz repeated to his lady, who listened attentively, much that the monk had related about st. francis. eva, too, was also on the ground dearest and most familiar to her. her little tongue ran fast enough, and her large blue eyes sparkled with an unusually bright and happy lustre as she completed and corrected what the young knight told her about the saint. how much that was lovable, benevolent, and wonderful there was to relate concerning this prophet of peace and good-will, this apostle of poverty and toil who, in every movement of nature, perceived and felt a summons to recognise the omnipotence and goodness of god, an invitation to devout submission to the most high! how many amusing, yet edifying and touching anecdotes, the abbess kunigunde had narrated of him and the most beloved of his followers! much of this conversation eva repeated to the knight, and her pleasure in the subject of the conversation increased the vivacity of her active mind, and soon led her to talk with eager eloquence. heinz schorlin fairly hung on her lips, and his eyes, which betrayed how deeply all that he was hearing moved him, rested on hers until a flourish of trumpets announced that the interval between the dances was over. he had listened in delight and, he felt, was forever bound to her. when duty summoned him to attend the emperor he asked himself whether such a conversation had ever been held in the midst of a merry dance; whether god, in his goodness, had ever created a being so perfect in soul and body as this fair saint, who could transform a ballroom into a church. aye, eva had done so; for, ardent as was the knight's love, something akin to religious devotion blended with his yearning desire. the last words which he addressed to her before leading her back to the others contained the promise to make her patron saint, st. clare, his own. the princess of nassau had invited him for the next dance, but she found heinz schorlin, whom the young duchess agnes had just said was merry enough to bring the dead to life, a very quiet partner; while young herr schurstab, who danced with eva and, like all the members of the honourable council, knew that she desired to take the veil, afterwards told his friends that the younger beautiful e would suit a carthusian convent, where speech is prohibited, much better than a ballroom. but after this "zauner" heinz schorlin again loosed her tongue. when he had told her how he came to the court, and she had learned that he had joined the emperor rudolph at lausanne just as he took the vow to take part in the crusade, there was no end to her questions concerning the reason that the german army had not already marched against the infidels, and whether he himself did not long to make them feel his sword. then she asked still further particulars concerning brother benedictus, the old minorite whom he had treated so kindly. heinz told her what he knew, and when he at last enquired whether she still regretted having met him whom she feared, she gazed frankly into his eyes and, smiling faintly, shook her head. this increased his ardour, and he warmly entreated her to tell him where he could meet her again, and permit him to call her his lady. but she hesitated to reply, and ere he could win from her even the faintest shadow of consent, ernst ortlieb, who had been talking with other members of the council in the room where the wine was served, interrupted him to take his daughter home. she went reluctantly. the clasp of the knight's hand was felt all the way to the house, and it would have been impossible and certainly ungracious not to return it. heinz schorlin had obtained no assent, yet the last glance from her eyes had been more eloquent than many a verbal promise, and he gazed after her enraptured. it seemed like desecration to give the hand in which hers had rested to lead any one else to the dance, and when the rotund duke of pomerania invited him to a drinking bout at his quarters at the green shield he accepted; for without eva the hall seemed deserted, the light robbed of its brilliancy, and the gay music transformed to a melancholy dirge. but when at the green shield the ducal wine sparkled in the beakers, the gold shone and glistened on the tables, and the rattle of the dice invited the bystanders to the game, he thought that whatever he undertook on such a day of good fortune must have a lucky end. the emperor had filled his purse again, but the friendly gift did not cover his debts, and he wanted to be rid of them before he told his mother that he had found a dear, devout daughter for her, and intended to return home to settle in the ancestral castle, his heritage, and share with his uncle the maintenance of his rights and the management of fields and forests. besides, he must test for the first time the power of his new patroness, st. clare, instead of his old one, st. leodegar. but the former served him ill enough--she denied him her aid, at any rate in gambling. the full purse was drained to its last 'zecchin' only too soon, and heinz, laughing, turned it inside out before the eyes of his comrades. but though the kind-hearted duke of pomerania, with whom heinz was a special favourite, pushed a little heap of gold towards him with his fat hands, that the swiss might try his luck again with borrowed money, which brings good fortune, he remained steadfast for eva's sake. on his way to the green shield he had confessed to biberli--who, torch in hand, led the way--that he intended very shortly to turn his back on the court and ride home, because this time he had found the right chatelaine for his castle. "that means the last one," the ex-schoolmaster answered quietly, carefully avoiding fanning the flame of his young master's desire by contradiction. only he could not refrain from entreating him not to burn his fingers with the dice, and, to confirm it, added that luck in gambling was apt to be scanty where fortune was so lavish in the gifts of love. heinz now remembered this warning. it had been predicted to his darling that meeting him would bring her misfortune, but he was animated by the sincere determination to force the jewel of his heart to remember heinz schorlin with anything but sorrow and regret. what would have seemed impossible to him a few hours before, he now realised. with a steady hand he pushed back the gold to the duke, who pressed it upon him with friendly glances from his kind little eyes and an urgent whispered entreaty, and took his leave, saying that to-night the dice and he were at odds. with these words he left the room, though the host tried to detain him almost by force, and the guests also earnestly endeavoured to keep the pleasant, jovial fellow. the loss, over which biberli shook his head angrily, did, not trouble him. even on his couch heinz found but a short time to think of his empty purse and the lovely maid who was to make the old castle among his beloved swiss mountains an earthly paradise, for sleep soon closed his eyes. the next morning the events of the evening seemed like a dream. would that they had been one! only he would not have missed, at any cost, the sweet memories associated with eva. but could she really become his own? he feared not; for the higher the sun rose the more impracticable his intentions of the night before appeared. at last he even thought of the religious conversation in the dancing hall with a superior smile, as if it had been carried on by some one else. the resolve to ask from her father the hand of the girl he loved he now rejected. no, he was not yet fit for a husband and the quiet life in the old castle. yet eva should be the lady of his heart, her patron saint should be his, and he would never sue for the love of any other maiden. hers he must secure. to press even one kiss on her scarlet lips seemed to him worth the risk of life. when he had stilled this fervent longing he could ride with her colour on helm and shield from tourney to tourney, and break a lance for her in every land through which he passed with the emperor. what would happen afterwards let the saints decide. as usual, biberli was his confidant, and declared himself ready to use katterle's services in his master's behalf. he had his own designs in doing this. he could rely upon the waiting maid's assistance, and if there were secret meetings between eva ortlieb and his lord, which would appease the knight's ardour, even in a small degree, the task of disgusting heinz with his luckless idea of an early marriage would not prove too difficult. chapter iv. eva ortlieb had been borne home from the ball in her sedan chair with a happy smile hovering round her fresh young lips. it still lingered there when she found her sister in their chamber, sitting at the spinning wheel. she had not left her suffering mother until her eyes closed in slumber, and was now waiting for eva, to hear whether the entertainment had proved less disagreeable than she feared, and--as she had sent her maid to bed--to help her undress. one glance at eva told her that she had perhaps left the ballroom even more reluctantly than she entered it; but when els questioned her so affectionately, and with maternal care began to unfasten the ribbon which tied her cap, the young girl, who in the sedan chair had determined to confess to no one on earth what so deeply moved her heart, could not resist the impulse to clasp her in her arms and kiss her with impetuous warmth. els received the caress with surprise for, though both girls loved each other tenderly, they, like most sisters, rarely expressed it by tangible proofs of tenderness. not until eva released her did els exclaim in merry amazement: "so it was delightful, my darling?" "oh, so delightful!" eva protested with hands uplifted, and at the same time met her sister's eyes with a radiant glance. yet the thought entered her mind that it ill beseemed her to express so much pleasure in a worldly amusement. her glance fell in shame, and she gently continued in that tone of self-compassion which was by no means unfamiliar to the members of her family. "true, though the emperor is so noble, and both he and the burgravine were so gracious to me, at first-and not only for a brief quarter of an hour, but a very long time i could feel no real pleasure. what am i saying? pleasure! i was indescribably desolate and alone among all those vain, bedizened strangers. i was like a shipwrecked sailor washed ashore by the waves and surrounded by people whose language is unfamiliar." "but half nuremberg was at the ball," her sister interrupted. "now you see the trouble, darling. whoever, like you, remains in seclusion and mounts a tall tree to be entirely alone, will be deserted; for who would be kind-hearted enough to learn to climb for your sake? but it seems that afterwards one and another----" "oh!" eva interrupted, "if you think that any of your friends gave me more than a passing greeting, you are mistaken. not even barbel, ann, or metz took any special notice of your sister. they kept near ursel vorchtel, and she and her brother ulrich, of course, behaved as if i wore a fern cap and had become invisible. i cannot tell you how uncomfortable i felt, and then--yes, els, then i first realised distinctly what you are to me. obstinate as i often am, in spite of all your kindness and care, ungraciously as i often treat you, to-night i clearly perceived that we belong together, like a pair of eyes, and that without you i am only half myself--or, at any rate--not complete. and--as we are speaking in images--i felt like a sapling whose prop has been removed; even your wolff can never have longed for you more ardently. my father found little time to give me. as soon as he saw me take my place in the polish dance he went with uncle pfinzing to the drinking room, and i did not see him again till he came to bring me home. he had asked fran nutzel to look after me, but her kathrin was taken ill, as i heard when we were leaving, and she disappeared with her during the first dance. so i moved forlornly here and there until he--heinz schorlin--came and took charge of me." "he? sir heinz schorlin?" asked els in surprise, a look of anxious suspense clouding her pretty, frank face. "the reckless swiss, whom countess cordula said yesterday was the pike in the dull carp pond of the court, and the only person for whom it was worth while to bear the penance imposed in the confessional?" "cordula von montfort!" cried eva scornfully. "if she speaks to me i shall not answer her, i can tell you. my cheeks crimson when i think of the liberty----" "never mind her," said her sister soothingly. "she is a motherless child, and therefore unlike us. as for heinz schorlin, he is certainly a gallant knight; but, my innocent lambkin, he is a wolf nevertheless." "a wolf?" asked eva, opening her large eyes as wide as if they beheld some terrible object. but she soon laughed softly, and added quietly: "but a very harmless wolf, who humbly changes his nature when the right hand strokes him. how you stare at me! i am not thinking of your beloved wolff, whom you have tamed tolerably well, but the wolf of gubbio, which did so much mischief, and to which st. francis went forth, accosted him as brother wolf, and reminded him that they both owed their lives to the goodness of the same divine father. the animal seemed to understand this, for it nodded to him. the saint now made a bargain with the wolf, which gave him its paw in pledge of the oath; and it kept the promise, for it followed st. francis into the city, and never again harmed anyone. the citizens of gubbio fed the good beast, and when it died sincerely mourned it. if you wish to know from whom i heard this edifying story--which is true, and can be confirmed by some one now in nuremberg who witnessed it--let me tell you that it was the wicked wolf himself; not the gubbio one, but he from switzerland. an old minorite monk, to whom he compassionately gave his horse, is the witness i mentioned. at the tavern the priest told him what he had beheld with his own eyes. do you still inveigh against the dangerous beast, which acts like the good samaritan, and finds nothing more delightful than hearing or speaking of our dear saint?" "and this in the town hall during the dance?" asked els, clasping her hands as if she had heard something unprecedented. eva, fairly radiant with joy, nodded assent; and els heard the ring of pleasure in her clear voice, too, as she exclaimed: "that was just what made the ball so delightful. the dancing! oh, yes, it is easy enough to walk and turn in time to the music when one has such a knight for a partner; but that was by no means the pleasantest part of it. during the interval--it seemed but an instant, yet it really lasted a considerable time--we first entered into conversation." "in one of the side rooms?" asked els, the bright colour fading from her cheeks. "what are you thinking of?" replied eva in a tone of offence. "i believe i know what is seemly as well as anybody else. true, your countess cordula did not set the most praiseworthy example. she allowed the whole throng of knights to surround her in the ante-room, and your future brother-in-law, siebenburg, outdid them all. we--heinz schorlin and i-sat near the emperor's table in the great hall, where everybody could see us. there the conversation naturally passed from the old minorite to the holy founder of his order, and remained there. and if ever valiant knight possessed a devout mind, it is heinz schorlin. whoever goes into battle without relying upon god and his saints,' he said, 'will find his courage lack wings, and his armour the surest defensive 'weapon.'" "in the ballroom!" again fell from her sister's lips in the same tone of amazement. "where else?" asked eva angrily. "i never met him except there. what do you other girls talk about at such entertainments, if it surprises you? besides, st. francis was by no means our only subject; we spoke of the future crusade, too. and oh!--you may believe me--we would have been glad to talk of such things for hours. he knew many things about our saint; but the precise one which makes him especially great and lovable, and withal so powerful that he attracted all whom he deemed worthy to follow him, he had not understood, and i was permitted to be the first person to bring it clearly before his mind. ah! and his wit is as keen as his sword, and his heart is as open to all that is noble and sacred as it is loyal to his lord and emperor. if we meet again i shall win him for the white cross on the black mantle and the battle against the enemies of the faith." "but, eva," interrupted her sister, still under the spell of astonishment, "such conversation amid the merry music of the pipers!" "'wherever three christians meet, even though they are only laymen, there is a church,' says tertullian," eva answered impressively. "one need not go to the house of god to talk about the things which ought to be the highest and dearest to every one; and heinz schorlin--i know it from his own lips--is of the same opinion, for he told me voluntarily that he would never forget the few hours which we had enjoyed together." "indeed!" said her sister thoughtfully. "but whether he does not owe this pleasure more to the dancing than to the edifying conversation----" "certainly not!" replied eva, very positively. "i can prove it, too; for later, after he had heard many things about st. clare, the female counterpart of francis, he vowed to make her his patron saint. or do you suppose that a knight changes his saints, as he does his doublet and coat of mail, without having any great and powerful motive? do you think it possible that the idle pleasure of the dance led him to so important a decision?" "certainly not. nothing led him to it except the irresistible zeal of my devout sister," answered els, smiling, as she continued to comb her fair hair. "she spoke with tongues in the ballroom, as the apostles did at pentecost, and thus our 'little saint' performed her first miracle: the conversion of a godless knight during the dancing." "call it so, if you choose," replied eva, her red lips pouting scornfully, as if she felt raised above such pitiful derision. "how you hurt, els! you are pulling all the hair out of my head!" the object of this rebuke had used the comb with the utmost care, but the great luxuriance of the long, fair, waving locks had presented many an impediment, and eva seemed unusually sensitive that night. els thought she knew why, and made no answer to the unjust charge. she knew her sister; and as she wound the braids about her head, and then, in the maid's place, hung part of her finery on hooks, and laid part carefully in the chest, she asked her numerous questions about the dance, but was vouchsafed only monosyllabic replies. at last els knelt before the prie-dieu. eva did the same, resting her head so long upon her clasped hands that the patient older sister could not wait for the "amen," but, in order not to disturb eva's devotion, only pressed a light kiss upon her head and then carefully drew the curtains closely over the windows which, instead of glass, contained oiled parchment. eva's excitement filled her with anxiety. she knew, too, what a powerful influence the bright moonlight sometimes exerted upon her while she slept, and cast another glance at the closely curtained window before she went to her own bed. there she lay a long time, with eyes wide open, pondering over her sister's words, and in doing so perceived more and more clearly that love was now knocking at the heart of the child kneeling before the prie-dieu. sir heinz schorlin, the wild butterfly, desired to sip the honey from this sweet, untouched flower, and then probably abandon her like so many before her. love and anxiety made the girl, whose opinion was usually milder than her sister's, a stern and unwise judge, for she assumed that the swiss--whose character in reality was far removed from base hypocrisy--the man whom she had just termed a wolf, had donned sheep's clothing to make her poor lambkin an easier prey. but she was on guard and ready to spoil his game. did eva really fail to understand the new feeling which had seized her so swiftly and powerfully? did she lull herself in the delusion that she cared only for the welfare of the soul of the pious young knight? yes, it might be so, and prudent els, who had watched her own little world intently enough, said to herself that it would be pouring oil upon the flames to tease eva about the defeat which she, the "little saint," had sustained in the battle against the demands of the world and of the feminine heart. besides, her sister was too dear for her to rejoice in her humiliation. els resolved not to utter a word about the swiss unless compelled to do so. eva's prayers before retiring were often very long, but to-night it seemed as if they would never end. "she is not appealing to st. clare for herself alone, but for another," thought els. "i spend less time in doing it. true, a heinz schorlin needs longer intercession than my eva, my wolff, and my poor pious mother. but i won't disturb her yet." sighing faintly, she changed her position, but remained sitting propped against the white pillows in order not to allow herself to be overcome by sleep. but it was a hard struggle, and her lids often fell, her head drooped upon her breast. dawn was already glimmering without when the supplicant at last rose and sought her couch. her sister let her lie quietly for a while, then she rose and put out the lamp which eva had forgotten to extinguish. the latter noticed it, turned her face towards her and called her gently. "to think that you should have to get up again, my poor els! give me a good-night kiss." "gladly, dearest," replied the other. "but it is really quite time to say 'good-morning."' "and you have kept awake so long!" replied eva compassionately, as she threw her arms gratefully around her sister's neck, kissed her tenderly, and then pressed her hot cheek to hers. "what is this?" cried els, with sincere anxiety. "are you hurt, child? surely you are weeping?" "no, no," was the reply. "i am only--i only thought that i had adorned myself, decked myself out with idle finery, although i know how many poor people are starving in want and misery, and how much more pleasing in the sight of the lord is the grey robe of the cloistered nun. i could scarcely leave the hall in my overweening pleasure, and yet it would have beseemed me far better to share the sufferings of the crucified saviour." "but, child," replied els, striving to soothe her sister, "how often i have heard from you and our aunt, the abbess, that no one was so cheerful and so glad to witness the enjoyment of human beings and animals as your st. francis!" "he--he!" groaned eva, "he who attained the highest goal, who heard the voice of the lord wherever he listened; he who chose poverty as his beloved bride, who scorned show and parade and the trappings of wealth, as he disdained earthly love; he who celebrated in song the love of the soul glowing for the highest things, as no troubadour could do--oh, how ardently he knew how to love, but to love the things which do not belong to this world!" els longed to ask what eva knew about the ardent fire of love; but she restrained herself, darkened the bed as well as she could with the movable curtain which hung from the ceiling on both sides above the double couch, and said: "be sensible, child, and put aside such thoughts. how loudly the birds are twittering outside! if our father is obliged to breakfast alone there may be a storm, and i should be glad to have an hour's nap. you need slumber, too. dancing is tiresome. shut your eyes and sleep as long as you can. i'll be as quiet as a mouse while i am dressing." as she spoke she turned away from her sister and no longer resisted the sleep which soon closed her weary eyes. etext editor's bookmarks: shipwrecked on the cliffs of 'better' and 'best' this ebook was produced by david widger <widger@cecomet.net> [note: there is a short list of bookmarks, or pointers, at the end of the file for those who may wish to sample the author's ideas before making an entire meal of them. d.w.] arachne by georg ebers volume 5. while the market place in tennis was filling, archias's white house had become a heap of smouldering ruins. hundreds of men and women were standing around the scene of the conflagration, but no one saw the statue of demeter, which had been removed from hermon's studio just in time. the nomarch had had it locked up in the neighbouring temple of the goddess. it was rumoured that the divinity had saved her own statue by a miracle; pamaut, the police officer, said that he had seen her himself as, surrounded by a brilliant light, she soared upward on the smoke that poured from the burning house. the strategist and the nomarch used every means in their power to capture the robbers, but without the least success. as it had become known that paseth, gula's husband, had cast off his wife because she had gone to hermon's studio, the magistrates believed that the attack had been made by the biamites; yet paseth was absent from the city during the assault, and the innocence of the others could also be proved. since, for two entire years, piracy had entirely ceased in this neighbourhood, no one thought of corsairs, and the bodies of the incendiaries having been consumed by the flames with the white house, it could not be ascertained to what class the marauders belonged. the blinded sculptor could only testify that one of the robbers was a negro, or at any rate had had his face blackened, and that the size of another had appeared to him almost superhuman. this circumstance gave rise to the fable that, during the terrible storm of the previous clay, hades had opened and spirits of darkness had rushed into the studio of the greek betrayer. the strategist, it is true, did not believe such tales, but the superstition of the biamites, who, moreover, aided the greeks reluctantly to punish a crime which threatened to involve their own countrymen, put obstacles in the way of his measures. not until he heard of ledscha's disappearance, and was informed by the priest of nemesis of the handsome sum which had been found in the offering box of the temple shortly after the attack, did he arrive at a conjecture not very far from the real state of affairs; only it was still incomprehensible to him what body of men could have placed themselves at the disposal of a girl's vengeful plan. on the second day after the fire, the epistrategus of the whole delta, who had accidentally come to the border fortress, arrived at tennis on the galley of the commandant of pelusium, and with him proclus, the grammateus of the dionysian artists, the lady thyone, daphne, and her companion chrysilla. the old hero philippus was detained in the fortress by the preparations for war. althea had returned to alexandria, and philotas, who disliked her, had gone there himself, as chrysilla intimated to him that he could hope for no success in his suit to her ward so long as daphne had to devote herself to the care of the blinded hermon. the epistrategus proceeded with great caution, but his efforts also remained futile. he ordered a report to be made of all the vessels which had entered the harbours and bays of the northeastern delta, but those commanded by satabus and his sons gave no cause for investigation; they had come into the tanite arm of the nile as lumber ships from pontus, and had discharged beams and planks for the account of a well-known commercial house in sinope. yet the official ordered the owl's nest to be searched. in doing this he made himself guilty of an act of violence, as the island's right of asylum still existed, and this incensed the irritable and refractory biamites the more violently, the deeper was the reverent awe with which the nation regarded tabus, who, according to their belief, was over a hundred years old. the biamites honoured her not only as an enchantress and a leech, but as the ancestress of a race of mighty men. by molesting this aged woman, and interfering with an ancient privilege, the epistrategus lost the aid of the hostile fishermen, sailors, and weavers. any information from their ranks to him was regarded as treachery; and, besides, his stay in tennis could be but brief, as the king, on account of the impending war, had summoned him back to the capital. on the third day after his arrival he left tennis and sailed from tanis for alexandria. he had had little time to attend to thyone and her guests. proclus, too, could not devote himself to them until after the departure of the epistrategus, since he had gone immediately to tanis, where, as head of the dionysian artists of all egypt, he had been occupied in attending to the affairs of the newly established theatre. on his return to tennis he had instantly requested to be conducted to the temple of demeter, to inspect the blinded hermon's rescued work. he had entered the cella of the sanctuary with the expectation of finding a peculiar, probably a powerful work, but one repugnant to his taste, and left it fairly overpowered by the beauty of this noble work of art. what he had formerly seen of hermon's productions had prejudiced him against the artist, whose talent was great, but who, instead of dedicating it to the service of the beautiful and the sublime, chose subjects which, to proclus, did not seem worthy of artistic treatment, or, when they were, sedulously deprived them of that by which, in his eyes, they gained genuine value. in hermon's olympian banquet he--who also held the office of a high priest of apollo in alexandria--had even seen an insult to the dignity of the deity. in the street boy eating figs, the connoisseur's eye had recognised a peculiar masterpiece, but he had been repelled by this also; for, instead of a handsome boy, it represented a starving, emaciated vagabond. true to life as this figure might be, it seemed to him reprehensible, for it had already induced others to choose similar vulgar subjects. when recently at althea's performance he had met hermon and saw how quickly his beautiful travelling companion allowed herself to be induced to bestow the wreath on the handsome, black-bearded fellow, it vexed him, and he had therefore treated him with distant coldness, and allowed him to perceive the disapproval which the direction taken by his art had awakened in his mind. in the presence of hermon's demeter, the opinion of the experienced man and intelligent connoisseur had suddenly changed. the creator of this work was not only one of the foremost artists of his day, nay, he had also been permitted to fathom the nature of the deity and to bestow upon it a perfect form. this demeter was the most successful personification of the divine goodness which rewards the sowing of seed with the harvest. when hermon created it, daphne's image had hovered before his mind, even if he had not been permitted to use her as a model, and of all the maidens whom he knew there was scarcely one better suited to serve as the type for the demeter. so what he had seen in pelusium, and learned from women, was true. the heart and mind of the artist who had created this work were not filled with the image of althea--who during the journey had bestowed many a mark of favour upon the aging man, and with whom he was obliged to work hand in hand for queen arsinoe's plans--but the daughter of archias, and this circumstance also aided in producing his change of view. hermon's blindness, it was to be hoped, would be cured. duty, and perhaps also interest, commanded him to show him frankly how highly he estimated his art and his last work. after the arrival of thyone and daphne, hermon had consented to accompany them on board the proserpina, their spacious galley. true, he had yielded reluctantly to this arrangement of his parents' old friend, and neither she nor daphne had hitherto succeeded in soothing the fierce resentment against fate which filled his soul after the loss of his sight and his dearest friend. as yet every attempt to induce him to bear his terrible misfortune with even a certain degree of composure had failed. the tennis leech, trained by the egyptian priests at sais in the art of healing, who was attached as a pastophorus to the temple of isis, in the city of weavers, had covered the artist's scorched face with bandages, and earnestly adjured him never in his absence to raise them, and to keep every ray of light from his blinded eyes. but the agitation which had mastered hermon's whole being was so great that, in spite of the woman's protestations, he lifted the covering again and again to see whether he could not perceive once more at least a glimmer of the sunlight whose warming power he felt. the thought of living in darkness until the end of his life seemed unendurable, especially as now all the horrors which, hitherto, had only visited him in times of trial during the night assailed him with never-ceasing cruelty. the image of the spider often forced itself upon him, and he fancied that the busy insect was spreading its quickly made web over his blinded eyes, which he was not to touch, yet over which he passed his hand to free them from the repulsive veil. the myth related that because athene's blow had struck the ambitious weaver arachne, she had resolved, before the goddess transformed her into a spider, to put an end to her disgrace. how infinitely harder was the one dealt to him! how much better reason he had to use the privilege in which man possesses an advantage over the immortals, of putting himself to death with his own hand when he deems the fitting time has come! what should he, the artist, to whom his eyes brought whatever made life valuable, do longer in this hideous black night, brightened by no sunbeam? he was often overwhelmed, too, by the remembrance of the terrible end of the friend in whom he saw the only person who might have given him consolation in this distress, and the painful thought of his poverty. he was supported solely by what his art brought and his wealthy uncle allowed him. the demeter which archias had ordered had been partially paid for in advance, and he had intended to use the gold--a considerable sum--to pay debts in alexandria. but it was consumed with the rest of his property--tools, clothing, mementoes of his dead parents, and a few books which contained his favourite poems and the writings of his master, straton. these precious rolls had aided him to maintain the proud conviction of owing everything which he attained or possessed solely to himself. it had again become perfectly clear to him that the destiny of earth-born mortals was not directed by the gods whom men had invented after their own likeness, in order to find causes for the effects which they perceived, but by deaf and blind chance. else how could even worse misfortune, according to the opinion of most people, have befallen the pure, guiltless myrtilus, who so deeply revered the olympians and understood how to honour them so magnificently by his art, than himself, the despiser of the gods? but was the death for which he longed a misfortune? was the nemesis who had so swiftly and fully granted the fervent prayer of an ill-used girl also only an image conjured up by the power of human imagination? it was scarcely possible! yet if there was one goddess, did not that admit the probability of the existence of all the others? he shuddered at the idea; for if the immortals thought, felt, acted, how terribly his already cruel fate would still develop! he had denied and insulted almost all the olympians, and not even stirred a finger to the praise and honour of a single one. what marvel if they should choose him for the target of their resentment and revenge? he had just believed that the heaviest misfortune which can befall a man and an artist had already stricken him. now he felt that this, too, had been an error; for, like a physical pain, he realized the collapse of the proud delusion of being independent of every power except himself, freely and arbitrarily controlling his own destiny, owing no gratitude except to his own might, and being compelled to yield to nothing save the enigmatical, pitiless power of eternal laws or their co-operation, so incomprehensible to the human intellect, called "chance," which took no heed of merit or unworthiness. must he, who had learned to silence and to starve every covetous desire, in order to require no gifts from his own uncle and his wealthy kinsman and friend, and be able to continue to hold his head high, as the most independent of the independent, now, in addition to all his other woe, be forced to believe in powers that exercised an influence over his every act? must he recognise praying to them and thanking them as the demand of justice, of duty, and wisdom? was this possible either? and, believing himself alone, since he could not see thyone and daphne, who were close by him, he struck his scorched brow with his clinched fist, because he felt like a free man who suddenly realizes that a rope which he can not break is bound around his hands and feet, and a giant pulls and loosens it at his pleasure. yet no! better die than become for gods and men a puppet that obeys every jerk of visible and invisible hands. starting up in violent excitement, he tore the bandage from his face and eyes, declaring, as thyone seriously reprimanded him, that he would go away, no matter where, and earn his daily bread at the handmill, like the blind ethiopian slave whom he had seen in the cabinetmaker's house at tennis. then daphne spoke to him tenderly, but her soothing voice caused him keener pain than his old friend's stern one. to sit still longer seemed unendurable, and, with the intention of regaining his lost composure by pacing to and fro, he began to walk; but at the first free step he struck against the little table in front of thyone's couch, and as it upset and the vessels containing water fell with it, clinking and breaking, he stopped and, as if utterly crushed, groped his way back, with both arms outstretched, to the armchair he had quitted. if he could only have seen daphne press her handkerchief first to her eyes, from which tears were streaming, and then to her lips, that he might not hear her sobs, if he could have perceived how thyone's wrinkled old face contracted as if she were swallowing a colocynth apple, while at the same time she patted his strong shoulder briskly, exclaiming with forced cheerfulness: "go on, my boy! the steed rears when the hornet stings! try again, if it only soothes you! we will take everything out of your way. you need not mind the water-jars. the potter will make new ones!" then hermon threw back his burning head, rested it against the back of the chair, and did not stir until the bandage was renewed. how comfortable it felt! he knew, too, that he owed it to daphne; the matron's fingers could not be so slender and delicate, and he would have been more than glad to raise them to his lips and thank her; but he denied himself the pleasure. if she really did love him, the bond between them must now be severed; for, even if her goodness of heart extended far enough to induce her to unite her blooming young existence to his crippled one, how could he have accepted the sacrifice without humiliating himself? whether such a marriage would have made her happy or miserable he did not ask, but he was all the more keenly aware that if, in this condition, he became her husband, he would be the recipient of alms, and he would far rather, he mentally repeated, share the fate of the negro at the handmill. the expression of his features revealed the current of his thoughts to daphne, and, much as she wished to speak to him, she forced herself to remain silent, that the tones of her voice might not betray how deeply she was suffering with him; but he himself now longed for a kind word from her lips, and he had just asked if she was still there when thyone announced a visit from the grammateus proclus. he had recently felt that this man was unfriendly to him, and again his anger burst forth. to be exposed in the midst of his misery to the scorn of a despiser of his art was too much for his exhausted patience. but here he was interrupted by proclus himself, who had entered the darkened cabin where the blind man remained very soon after thyone. hermon's last words had betrayed to the experienced courtier how well he remembered his unkind remarks, so he deferred the expression of his approval, and began by delivering the farewell message of the epistrategus, who had been summoned away so quickly. he stated that his investigations had discovered nothing of importance, except, perhaps, the confirmation of the sorrowful apprehension that the admirable myrtilus had been killed by the marauders. a carved stone had been found under the ashes, and chello, the tennis goldsmith, said he had had in his own workshop the gem set in the hapless artist's shoulder clasp, and supplied it with a new pin. while speaking, he took hermon's hand and gave him the stone, but the artist instantly used his finger tips to feel it. perhaps it really did belong to the clasp myrtilus wore, for, although still unpractised in groping, he recognised that a human head was carved in relief upon the stone, and mrytilus's had been adorned with the likeness of the epicurean. the damaged little work of art, in the opinion of proclus and daphne, appeared to represent this philosopher, and at the thought that his friend had fallen a victim to the flames hermon bowed his head and exerted all his strength of will in order not to betray by violent sobs how deeply this idea pierced his heart. thyone, shrugging her shoulders mournfully, pointed to the suffering artist. proclus nodded significantly, and, moving nearer to hermon, informed him that he had sought out his demeter and found the statue uninjured. he was well aware that it would be presumptuous to offer consolation in so heavy an affliction, and after the loss of his dearest friend, yet perhaps hermon would be glad to hear his assurance that he, whose judgment was certainly not unpractised, numbered his work among the most perfect which the sculptor's art had created in recent years. "i myself best know the value of this demeter," the sculptor broke in harshly. "your praise is the bit of honey which is put into the mouth of the hurt child." "no, my friend," proclus protested with grave decision. "i should express no less warmly the ardent admiration with which this noble figure of the goddess fills me if you were well and still possessed your sight. you were right just now when you alluded to my aversion, or, let us say, lack of appreciation of the individuality of your art; but this noble work changes everything, and nothing affords me more pleasure than that i am to be the first to assure you how magnificently you have succeeded in this statue." "the first!" hermon again interrupted harshly. "but the second and third will be lacking in alexandria. what a pleasure it is to pour the gifts of sympathy upon one to whom we wish ill! but, however successful my demeter may be, you would have awarded the prize twice over to the one by myrtilus." "wrong, my young friend!" the statesman protested with honest zeal. "all honour to the great dead, whose end was so lamentable; but in this contest--let me swear it by the goddess herself!--you would have remained victor; for, at the utmost, nothing can rank with the incomparable save a work of equal merit, and--i know life and art--two artists rarely or never succeed in producing anything so perfect as this masterpiece at the same time and in the same place." "enough!" gasped hermon, hoarse with excitement; but proclus, with increasing animation, continued: "brief as is our acquaintance, you have probably perceived that i do not belong to the class of flatterers, and in alexandria it has hardly remained unknown to you that the younger artists number me, to whom the office of judge so often falls, among the sterner critics. only because i desire their best good do i frankly point out their errors. the multitude provides the praise. it will soon flow upon you also in torrents, i can see its approach, and as this blindness, if the august aesculapius and healing isis aid, will pass away like a dreary winter night, it would seem to me criminal to deceive you about your own ability and success. i already behold you creating other works to the delight of gods and men; but this demeter extorts boundless, enthusiastic appreciation; both as a whole, and in detail, it is faultless and worthy of the most ardent praise. oh, how long it is, my dear, unfortunate friend, since i could congratulate any other alexandrian with such joyful confidence upon the most magnificent success! every word--you may believe it!--which comes to you in commendation of this last work from lips unused to eulogy is sincerely meant, and as i utter it to you i shall repeat it in the presence of the king, archias, and the other judges." daphne, with hurried breath, deeply flushed cheeks, and sparkling eyes, had fairly hung upon the lips of the clever connoisseur. she knew proclus, and his dreaded, absolutely inconsiderate acuteness, and was aware that this praise expressed his deepest conviction. had he been dissatisfied with the statue of demeter, or even merely superficially touched by its beauty, he might have shrunk from wounding the unfortunate artist by censure, and remained silent; but only something grand, consummate, could lead him to such warmth of recognition. she now felt it a misfortune that she and thyone had hitherto been prevented, by anxiety for their patient, from admiring his work. had it still been light, she would have gone to the temple of demeter at once; but the sun had just set, and proclus was obliged to beg her to have patience. as the cases were standing finished at the cabinetmaker's, the statue had been packed immediately, under his own direction, and carried on board his ship, which would convey it with him to the capital the next day. while this arrangement called forth loud expressions of regret from daphne and the vivacious matron, hermon assented to it, for it would at least secure the ladies, until their arrival in alexandria, from a painful disappointment. "rather," proclus protested with firm dissent, "it will rob you for some time of a great pleasure, and you, noble daughter of archias, probably of the deepest emotion of gratitude with which the favour of the immortals has hitherto rendered you happy; yet the master who created this genuine goddess owes the best part of it to your own face." "he told me himself that he thought of me while at work," daphne admitted, and a flood of the warmest love reached hermon's ears in her agitated tones, while, greatly perplexed, he wondered with increasing anxiety whether the stern critic proclus had really been serious in the extravagant eulogium, so alien to his reputation in the city. myrtilus, too, had admired the head of his demeter, and--this he himself might admit--he had succeeded in it, and yet ought not the figure, with its too pronounced inclination forward, which, it is true, corresponded with daphne's usual bearing, and the somewhat angular bend of the arms, have induced this keen-sighted connoisseur to moderate the exalted strain of his praise? or was the whole really so admirable that it would have seemed petty to find fault with the less successful details? at any rate, proclus's eulogy ought to give him twofold pleasure, because his art had formerly repelled him, and hermon tried to let it produce this effect upon him. but it would not do; he was continually overpowered by the feeling that under the enthusiastic homage of the intriguing queen arsinoe's favourite lurked a sting which he should some day feel. or could proclus have been persuaded by thyone and daphne to help them reconcile the hapless blind man to his hard fate? hermon's every movement betrayed the great anxiety which filled his mind, and it by no means escaped proclus's attention, but he attributed it to the blinded sculptor's anguish in being prevented, after so great a success, from pursuing his art further. sincerely touched, he laid his slender hand on the sufferer's muscular arm, saying: "a more severe trial than yours, my young friend, can scarcely be imposed upon the artist who has just attained the highest goal, but three things warrant you to hope for recovery--your vigorous youth, the skill of our alexandrian leeches, and the favour of the immortal gods. you shrug your shoulders? yet i insist that you have won this favour by your demeter. true, you owe it less to yourself than to yonder maiden. what pleasure it affords one whom, like myself, taste and office bind to the arts, to perceive such a revolution in an artist's course of creation, and trace it to its source! i indulged myself in it and, if you will listen, i should like to show you the result." "speak," replied hermon dully, bowing his head as if submitting to the inevitable, while proclus began: "hitherto your art imitated, not without success, what your eyes showed you, and if this was filled with the warm breath of life, your work succeeded. all respect to your boy eating figs, in whose presence you would feel the pleasure he himself enjoyed while consuming the sweet fruit. here, among the works of egyptian antiquity, there is imminent danger of falling under the tyranny of the canon of proportions which can be expressed in figures, or merely even the demands of the style hallowed by thousands of years, but in a subject like the 'fig-eater' such a reproach is not to be feared. he speaks his own intelligible language, and whoever reproduces it without turning to the right or left has won, for he has created a work whose value every true friend of art, no matter to what school he belongs, prizes highly. "to me personally such works of living reality are cordially welcome. yet art neither can nor will be satisfied with snatches of what is close at hand; but you are late-born, sons of a time when the two great tendencies of art have nearly reached the limits of what is attainable to them. you were everywhere confronted with completed work, and you are right when you refuse to sink to mere imitators of earlier works, and therefore return to nature, with which we hellenes, and perhaps the egyptians also, began. the latter forgot her; the former--we greeks-continued to cling to her closely." "some few," hermon eagerly interrupted the other, "still think it worth the trouble to take from her what she alone can bestow. they save themselves the toilsome search for the model which others so successfully used before them, and bronze and marble still keep wonderfully well. bring out the old masterpieces. take the head from this one, the arm from that, etc. the pupil impresses the proportions on his mind. only so far as the longing for the beautiful permits do even the better ones remain faithful to nature, not a finger's breadth more." "quite right," the other went on calmly. "but your objection only brings one nearer the goal. how many who care only for applause content themselves to-day, unfortunately, with nature at second hand! without returning to her eternally fresh, inexhaustible spring, they draw from the conveniently accessible wells which the great ancients dug for them." "i know these many," hermon wrathfully exclaimed. "they are the brothers of the homeric poets, who take verses from the iliad and odyssey to piece out from them their own pitiful poems." "excellent, my son!" exclaimed thyone, laughing, and daphne remarked that the poet cleon had surprised her father with such a poem a few weeks before. it was a marvellous bit of botchwork, and yet there was a certain meaning in the production, compiled solely from homeric verses. "diomed's hecuba," observed proclus, "and the aphrodite by hippias, which were executed in marble, originated in the same way, and deserve no better fate, although they please the great multitude. but, praised be my lord, apollo, our age can also boast of other artists. filled with the spirit of the god, they are able to model truthfully and faithfully even the forms of the immortals invisible to the physical eye. they stand before the spectator as if borrowed from nature, for their creators have filled them with their own healthy vigour. our poor myrtilus belonged to this class and, after your demeter, the world will include you in it also." "and yet," answered hermon in a tone of dissent, "i remained faithful to myself, and put nothing, nothing at all of my own personality, into the forms borrowed from nature." "what need of that was there?" asked proclus with a subtle smile. "your model spared you the task. and this at last brings me to the goal i desired to reach. as the great athenians created types for eternity, so also does nature at times in a happy hour, for her own pleasure, and such a model you found in our daphne.-no contradiction, my dear young lady! the outlines of the figure--by the dog! hermon might possibly have found forms no less beautiful in the aphrosion, but how charming and lifelike is the somewhat unusual yet graceful pose of yours! and then the heart, the soul! in your companionship our artist had nothing to do except lovingly to share your feelings in order to have at his disposal everything which renders so dear to us all the giver of bread, the preserver of peace, the protector of marriage, the creator and supporter of the law of moderation in nature, as well as in human existence. where would all these traits be found more perfectly united in a single human being than in your person, daphne, your quiet, kindly rule?" "oh, stop!" the girl entreated. "i am only too well aware--" "that you also are not free from human frailties," proclus continued, undismayed. "we will take them, great or small as they may be, into the bargain. the secret ones do not concern the sculptor, who does not or will not see them. what he perceives in you, what you enable him to recognise through every feature of your sweet, tranquillizing face, is enough for the genuine artist to imagine the goddess; for the distinction between the mortal and the immortal is only the degree of perfection, and the human intellect and artist soul can find nothing more perfect in the whole domain of demeter's jurisdiction than is presented to them in your nature. our friend yonder seized it, and his magnificent work of art proves how nearly it approaches the purest and loftiest conception we form of the goddess whom he had to represent. it is not that he deified you, daphne; he merely bestowed on the divinity forms which he recognised in you." just at that moment, obeying an uncontrollable impulse, hermon pulled the bandage from his eyes to see once more the woman to whom this warm homage was paid. was the experienced connoisseur of art and the artist soul in the right? he had told himself the same thing when he selected daphne for a model, and her head reproduced what proclus praised as the common possession of daphne and demeter. truthful myrtilus had also seen it. perhaps his work had really been so marvellously successful because, while he was engaged upon it, his friend had constantly stood before his mind in all the charm of her inexhaustible goodness. animated by the ardent desire to gaze once more at the beloved face, to which he now owed also this unexpectedly great success, he turned toward the spot whence her voice had reached him; but a wall of violet mist, dotted with black specks, was all that his blinded eyes showed him, and with a low groan he drew the linen cloth over the burns. this time proclus also perceived what was passing in the poor artist's mind, and when he took leave of him it was with the resolve to do his utmost to brighten with the stars of recognition and renown the dark night of suffering which enshrouded this highly gifted sculptor, whose unexpectedly great modesty had prepossessed him still more in his favour. chapter ii. after the grammateus had retired, daphne insisted upon leaving tennis the next day. the desire to see hermon's masterpiece drew her back to alexandria even more strongly than the knowledge of being missed by her father. only the separation from thyone rendered the departure difficult, for the motherless girl had found in her something for which she had long yearned, and most sorely missed in her companion chrysilla, who from expediency approved of everything she did or said. the matron, too, had become warmly attached to daphne, and would gladly have done all that lay in her power to lighten hermon's sad fate, yet she persisted in her determination to return speedily to her old husband in pelusium. but she did not fully realize how difficult this departure would be for her until the blind man, after a long silence, asked whether it was night, if the stars were in the sky, and if she really intended to leave him. then burning sympathy filled her compassionate soul, and she could no longer restrain her tears. daphne, too, covered her face, and imposed the strongest restraint upon herself that she might not sob aloud. so it seemed a boon to both when hermon expressed the desire to spend part of the night on deck. this desire contained a summons to action, and to be able to bestir themselves in useful service appeared like a favour to thyone and daphne. without calling upon a slave, a female servant, or even chrysilla for the smallest office, the two prepared a couch on deck for the blind man, and, leaning on the girl's stronger arm, he went up into the open air. there he stretched both arms heavenward, inhaled deep breaths of the cool night breeze, and thirstily emptied the goblet of wine which daphne mixed and gave him with her own hand. then, with a sigh of relief, he said: "everything has not grown black yet. a delightful feeling of pleasure takes possession even of the blind man when the open air refreshes him and the wine warms his blood in the sunshine of your kindness." "and much better things are still in prospect," daphne assured him. "just think what rapture it will be when you are permitted to see the light again after so long a period of darkness!" "when--" repeated hermon, his head drooping as he spoke. "it must, it must be so!" rang with confident assurance from thyone's lips. "and then," added daphne, gazing sometimes upward to the firmament strewn with shining stars, sometimes across the broad, rippling expanse of the water, in which the reflection of the heavenly bodies shimmered in glittering, silvery radiance, "yes, hermon, who would not be glad to exchange with you then? you may shake your head, but i would take your place quickly and with joyous courage. there is a proof of the existence of the gods, which so exactly suits the hour when you will again see, enjoy, admire what this dreary darkness now hides from you. it was a philosopher who used it; i no longer know which one. how often i have thought of it since this cruel misfortune befell you! and now--" "go on," hermon interrupted with a smile of superiority. "you are thinking of aristotle's man who grew up in a dark cave. the conditions which must precede the devout astonishment of the liberated youth when he first emerged into the light and the verdant world would certainly exist in me." "oh, not in that way," pleaded the wounded girl; and thyone exclaimed: "what is the story of the man you mention? we don't talk about aristotle and such subjects in pelusium." "perhaps they are only too much discussed in alexandria," said the blind artist. "the stagirite, as you have just heard, seeks to prove the existence of the gods by the man of whom i spoke." "no, he does prove it," protested daphne. "just listen, mother thyone. a little boy grows up from earliest childhood into a youth in a dark cave. then suddenly its doors are opened to him. for the first time he sees the sun, moon, and stars, flowers and trees, perhaps even a beautiful human face. but at the moment when all these things rush upon him like so many incomprehensible marvels, must he not ask himself who created all this magnificence? and the answer which comes to him--" "there is only one," cried the matron; "the omnipotent gods. do you shrug your shoulders at that, son of the pious erigone? why, of course! the child who still feels the blows probably rebels against his earthly father. but if i see aright, the resentment will not last when you, like the man, go out of the cave and your darkness also passes away. then the power from which you turned defiantly will force itself upon you, and you will raise your hands in grateful prayer to the rescuing divinity. as to us women, we need not be drawn out of a cave to recognise it. a mother who reared three stalwart sons--i will say nothing of the daughters--can not live without them. why are they so necessary to her? because we love our children twice as much as ourselves, and the danger which threatens them alarms the poor mother's heart thrice as much as her own. then it needs the helping powers. even though they often refuse their aid, we may still be grateful for the expectation of relief. i have poured forth many prayers for the three, i assure you, and after doing so with my whole soul, then, my son, no matter how wildly the storm had raged within my breast, calmness returned, and hope again took her place at the helm. in the school of the denier of the gods, you forgot the immortals above and depended on yourself alone. now you need a guide, or even two or three of them, in order to find the way. if your mother were still alive, you would run back to her to hide your face in her lap. but she is dead, and if i were as proud as you, before clasping the sustaining hand of another mortal i would first try whether one would not be voluntarily extended from among the olympians. if i were you, i would begin with demeter, whom you honoured by so marvellous a work." hermon waved his hand as if brushing away a troublesome fly, exclaiming impatiently: "the gods, always the gods! i know by my own mother, thyone, what you women are, though i was only seven years old when i was bereft of her by the same powers that you call good and wise, and who have also robbed me of my eyesight, my friend, and all else that was dear. i thank you for your kind intention, and you, too, daphne, for recalling the beautiful allegory. how often we have argued over its meaning! if we continued the discussion, perhaps it might pleasantly shorten the next few hours, which i dread as i do my whole future existence, but i should be obliged in the outset to yield the victory to you. the great herophilus is right when he transfers the seat of thought from the heart to the head. what a wild tumult is raging here behind my brow, and how one voice drowns another! the medley baffles description. i could more easily count with my blind eyes the cells in a honeycomb than refute with my bewildered brain even one shrewd objection. it seems to me that we need our eyes to understand things. we certainly do to taste. whatever i eat and drink--langustae and melons, light mareotic wine and the dark liquor of byblus my tongue can scarcely distinguish it. the leech assures me that this will pass away, but until the chaos within merges into endurable order there is nothing better for me than solitude and rest, rest, rest." "we will not deny them to you," replied thyone, glancing significantly at daphne. "proclus's enthusiastic judgment was sincerely meant. begin by rejoicing over it in the inmost depths of your heart, and vividly imagining what a wealth of exquisite joys will be yours through your last masterpiece." "willingly, if i can," replied the blind man, gratefully extending his hand. "if i could only escape the doubt whether the most cruel tyrant could devise anything baser than to rob the artist, the very person to whom it is everything, of his sight." "yes, it is terrible," daphne assented. "yet it seems to me that a richer compensation for the lost gift is at the disposal of you artists than of us other mortals, for you understand how to look with the eyes of the soul. with them you retain what you have seen, and illumine it with a special radiance. homer was blind, and for that very reason, i think, the world and life became clear and transfigured for him though a veil concealed both from his physical vision." "the poet!" hermon exclaimed. "he draws from his own soul what sight, and sight alone, brings to us sculptors. and, besides, his spirit remained free from the horrible darkness that assailed mine. joy itself, daphne, has lost its illuminating power within. what, girl, what is to become of the heart in which even hope was destroyed?" "defend it manfully and keep up your courage," she answered softly; but he pressed her hand firmly, and, in order not to betray how selfcompassion was melting his own soul, burst forth impetuously: "say rather: crush the wish whose fulfilment is self-humiliation! i will go back to alexandria. even the blind and crippled can find ways to earn their bread there. now grant me rest, and leave me alone!" thyone drew the girl away with her into the ship's cabin. a short time after, the steward gras went to hermon to entreat him to yield to thyone's entreaties and leave the deck. the leech had directed the sufferer to protect himself from draughts and dampness, and the cool night mists were rising more and more densely from the water. hermon doubtless felt them, but the thought of returning to the close cabin was unendurable. he fancied that his torturing thoughts would stifle him in the gloom where even fresh air was denied him. he allowed the careful bithynian to throw a coverlet over him and draw the hood of his cloak over his head, but his entreaties and warnings were futile. the steward's watchful nursing reminded hermon of his own solicitude for his friend and of his faithful slave bias, both of whom he had lost. then he remembered the eulogy of the grammateus, and it brought up the question whether myrtilus would have agreed with him. like proclus, his keen-sighted and honest friend had called daphne the best model for the kindly goddess. he, too, had given to his statue the features of the daughter of archias, and admitted that he had been less successful. but the figure! perhaps he, hermon, in his perpetual dissatisfaction with himself had condemned his own work too severely, but that it lacked the proper harmony had escaped neither myrtilus nor himself. now he recalled the whole creation to his remembrance, and its weaknesses forced themselves upon him so strongly and objectionably that the extravagant praise of the stern critic awakened fresh doubts in his mind. yet a man like the grammateus, who on the morrow or the day following it would be obliged to repeat his opinion before the king and the judges, certainly would not have allowed himself to be carried away by mere compassion to so great a falsification of his judgment. or was he himself sharing the experience of many a fellow-artist? how often the creator deceived himself concerning the value of his own work! he had expected the greatest success from his polyphemus hurling the rock at odysseus escaping in the boat, and a gigantic smith had posed for a model. yet the judges had condemned it in the severest manner as a work far exceeding the bounds of moderation, and arousing positive dislike. the clay figure had not been executed in stone or metal, and crumbled away. the opposite would probably now happen with the demeter. her bending attitude had seemed to him daring, nay, hazardous; but the acute critic proclus had perceived that it was in accord with one of daphne's habits, and therefore numbered it among the excellences of the statue. if the judges who awarded the prize agreed with the verdict of the grammateus, he must accustom himself to value his own work higher, perhaps even above that of myrtilus. but was this possible? he saw his friend's demeter as though it was standing before him, and again he recognised in it the noblest masterpiece its maker had ever created. what praise this marvellous work would have deserved if his own really merited such high encomiums! suddenly an idea came to him, which at first he rejected as inconceivable; but it would not allow itself to be thrust aside, and its consideration made his breath fail. what if his own demeter had been destroyed and myrtilus's statue saved? if the latter was falsely believed to be his work, then proclus's judgment was explained--then--then--seized by a torturing anguish, he groaned aloud, and the steward gras inquired what he wanted. hermon hastily grasped the bithynian's arm, and asked what he knew about the rescue of his statue. the answer was by no means satisfying. gras had only heard that, after being found uninjured in his studio, it had been dragged with great exertion into the open air. the goldsmith chello had directed the work. hermon remembered all this himself, yet, with an imperious curtness in marked contrast to his usual pleasant manner to this worthy servant, he hoarsely commanded him to bring chello to him early the next morning, and then again relapsed into his solitary meditations. if the terrible conjecture which had just entered his mind should be confirmed, no course remained save to extinguish the only new light which now illumined the darkness of his night, or to become a cheat. yet his resolution was instantly formed. if the goldsmith corroborated his fear, he would publicly attribute the rescued work to the man who created it. and he persisted in this intention, indignantly silencing the secret voice which strove to shake it. it temptingly urged that myrtilus, so rich in successes, needed no new garland. his lost sight would permit him, hermon, from reaping fresh laurels, and his friend would so gladly bestow this one upon him. but he angrily closed his ears to these enticements, and felt it a humiliation that they dared to approach him. with proud self-reliance he threw back his head, saying to himself that, though myrtilus should permit him ten times over to deck him self with his feathers, he would reject them. he would remain himself, and was conscious of possessing powers which perhaps surpassed his friend's. he was as well qualified to create a genuine work of art as the best sculptor, only hitherto the muse had denied him success in awakening pleasure, and blindness would put an end to creating anything of his own. the more vividly he recalled to memory his own work and his friend's, the more probable appeared his disquieting supposition. he also saw myrtilus's figure before him, and in imagination heard his friend again promise that, with the arachne, he would wrest the prize even from him. during the terrible events of the last hours he had thought but seldom and briefly of the weaver, whom it had seemed a rare piece of good fortune to be permitted to represent. now the remembrance of her took possession of his soul with fresh power. the image of arachne illumined by the lamplight, which althea had showed him, appeared like worthless jugglery, and he soon drove it back into the darkness which surrounded him. ledscha's figure, however, rose before him all the more radiantly. the desire to possess her had flown to the four winds; but he thought he had never before beheld anything more peculiar, more powerful, or better worth modelling than the biamite girl as he saw her in the temple of nemesis, with uplifted hand, invoking the vengeance of the goddess upon him, and there--he discovered it now-daphne was not at all mistaken. images never presented themselves as distinctly to those who could see as to the blind man in his darkness. if he was ever permitted to receive his sight, what a statue of the avenging goddess he could create from this greatest event in the history of his vision! after this work--of that he was sure--he would no longer need the borrowed fame which, moreover, he rejected with honest indignation. chapter iii. it must be late, for hermon felt the cool breeze, which in this region rose between midnight and sunrise, on his burned face and, shivering, drew his mantle closer round him. yet it seemed impossible to return to the cabin; the memory of ledscha imploring vengeance, and the stern image of the avenging goddess in the cella of the little temple of nemesis, completely mastered him. in the close cabin these terrible visions, united with the fear of having reaped undeserved praise, would have crouched upon his breast like harpies and stifled or driven him mad. after what had happened, to number the swift granting of the insulted biamite's prayer among the freaks of chance was probably a more arbitrary and foolish proceeding than, with so many others, to recognise the incomprehensible power of nemesis. ledscha had loosed it against him and his health, perhaps even his life, and he imagined that she was standing before him with the bridle and wheel, threatening him afresh. shivering, as if chilled to the bone, overwhelmed by intense horror, he turned his blinded eyes upward to the blackness above and raised his hand, for the first time since he had joined the pupils of straton in the museum, to pray. he besought nemesis to be content, and not add to blindness new tortures to augment the terrible ones which rent his soul, and he did so with all the ardour of his passionate nature. the steward gras had received orders to wake the lady thyone if anything unusual happened to the blind man, and when he heard the unfortunate artist groan so pitifully that it would have moved a stone, and saw him raise his hand despairingly to his head, he thought it was time to utter words of consolation, and a short time after the anxious matron followed him. her low exclamation startled hermon. to be disturbed in the first prayer after so long a time, in the midst of the cries of distress of a despairing soul, is scarcely endurable, and the blind man imposed little restraint upon himself when his old friend asked what had occurred, and urged him not to expose himself longer to the damp night air. at first he resolutely resisted, declaring that he should lose his senses alone in the close cabin. then, in her cordial, simple way, she offered to bear him company in the cabin. she could not sleep longer, at any rate; she must leave him early in the morning, and they still had many things to confide to each other. touched by so much kindness, he yielded and, leaning on the bithynian's arm, followed her, not into his little cabin, but into the captain's spacious sitting room. only a single lamp dimly lighted the wainscoting, composed of ebony, ivory, and tortoise shell, the gay rug carpet, and the giraffe and panther skins hung on the walls and doors and flung on the couches and the floor. thyone needed no brilliant illumination for this conversation, and the blinded man was ordered to avoid it. the matron was glad to be permitted to communicate to hermon so speedily all that filled her own heart. while he remained on deck, she had gone to daphne's cabin. she had already retired, and when thyone went to the side of the couch she found the girl, with her cheeks wet with tears, still weeping, and easily succeeded in leading the motherless maiden to make a frank confession. both cousins had been dear to her from childhood; but while myrtilus, though often impeded by his pitiable sufferings, had reached by a smooth pathway the highest recognition, hermon's impetuous toiling and striving had constantly compelled her to watch his course with anxious solicitude and, often unobserved, extend a helping hand. sympathy, disapproval, and fear, which, however, was always blended with admiration of his transcendent powers, had merged into love. though he had disdained to return it, it had nevertheless been perfectly evident that he needed her, and valued her and her opinion. often as their views differed, the obstinate boy and youth had never allowed any one except herself a strong influence over his acts and conduct. but, far as he seemed to wander from the paths which she believed the right ones, she had always held fast to the conviction that he was a man of noble nature, and an artist who, if he only once fixed his eyes upon the true goal, would far surpass by his mighty power the other alexandrian sculptors, whatever names they bore, and perhaps even myrtilus. to the great vexation of her father who, after her mother's death, in an hour when his heart was softened, had promised that he would never impose any constraint upon her in the choice of a husband, she had hitherto rejected every suitor. she had showed even the distinguished philotas in pelusium, without the least reserve, that he was seeking her in vain; for just at that time she thought she had perceived that hermon returned her love, and after his abrupt departure it had become perfectly evident that the happiness of her life depended upon him. the terrible misfortune which had now befallen him had only bound her more firmly to the man she loved. she felt that she belonged to him indissolubly, and the leech's positive assurance that his blindness was incurable had only increased the magic of the thought of being and affording tenfold more to the man bereft of sight than when, possessing his vision, the world, life, and art belonged to him. to be able to lavish everything upon the most beloved of mortals, and do whatever her warm, ever-helpful heart prompted, seemed to her a special favour of the gods in whom she believed. that it was demeter, to the ranks of whose priestesses she belonged, who was so closely associated with his blinding, also seemed to her no mere work of chance. the goddess on whom hermon had bestowed the features of her own face had deprived him of sight to confer upon her the happiness of brightening and beautifying the darkness of his life. if she saw aright, and it was only the fear of obtaining, with herself, her wealth, that still kept him from her, the path which would finally unite them must be found at last. she hoped to conquer also her father's reluctance to give his only child in marriage to a blind man, especially as hermon's last work promised to give him the right to rank with the best artists of his age. the matron had listened to this confession with an agitated heart. she had transported herself in imagination into the soul of the girl's mother, and brought before her mind what objections the dead woman would have made to her daughter's union with a man deprived of sight; but daphne had firmly insisted upon her wish, and supported it by many a sensible and surprising answer. she was beyond childhood, and her threeand-twenty years enabled her to realize the consequences which so unusual a marriage threatened to entail. as for thyone herself, she was always disposed to look on the bright side, and the thought that this vigorous young man, this artist crowned with the highest success, must remain in darkness to the end of his life, was utterly incompatible with her belief in the goodness of the gods. but if hermon was cured, a rare wealth of the greatest happiness awaited him in the union with daphne. the mood in which she found the blind man had wounded and troubled her. now she renewed the bandage, saying: "how gladly i would continue to use my old hands for you, but this will be the last time in a long while that i am permitted to do this for the son of my erigone; i must leave you to-morrow." hermon clasped her hand closely, exclaiming with affectionate warmth: "you must not go, thyone! stay here, even if it is only a few days longer." what pleasure these words gave her, and how gladly she would have fulfilled his wish! but it could not be, and he did not venture to detain her by fresh entreaties after she had described how her aged husband was suffering from her absence. "i often ask myself what he still finds in me," she said. "true, so long a period of wedded life is a firm tie. if i am gone and he does not find me when he returns home from inspections, he wanders about as if lost, and does not even relish his food, though the same cook has prepared it for years. and he, who forgets nothing and knows by name a large number of the many thousand men he commands, would very probably, when i am away, join the troops with only sandals on his feet. to miss my ugly old face really can not be so difficult! when he wooed me, of course i looked very different. and so--he confessed it himself--so he always sees me, and most plainly when i am absent from his sight. but that, hermon, will be your good fortune also. all you now know as young and beautiful will continue so to you as long as this sorrowful blindness lasts, and on that very account you must not remain alone, my boy--that is, if your heart has already decided in favour of any one--and that is the case, unless these old eyes deceive me." "daphne," he answered dejectedly, "why should i deny that she is dear to me? and yet, how dare the blind man take upon himself the sin of binding her young life--" "stop! stop!" thyone interrupted with eager warmth. "she loves you, and to be everything to you is the greatest happiness she can imagine." "until repentance awakes, and it is too late," he answered gravely. "but even were her love strong enough to share her husband's misfortune patiently--nay, perhaps with joyous courage--it would still be contemptible baseness were i to profit by that love and seek her hand." "hermon!" the matron now exclaimed reproachfully; but he repeated with strong emphasis: "yes, it would be baseness so great that even her most ardent love could not save me from the reproach of having committed it. i will not speak of her father, to whom i am so greatly indebted. it may be that it might satisfy daphne, full of kindness as she is, to devote herself, body and soul, to the service of her helpless companion. but i? far from thinking constantly, like her, solely of others and their welfare, i should only too often, selfish as i now am, be mindful of myself. but when i realize who i am, i see before me a blind man who is poorer than a beggar, because the scorching flames melted even the gold which was to help him pay his debts." "folly!" cried the matron. "for what did archias gather his boundless treasures? and when his daughter is once yours--" "then," hermon went on bitterly, "the blinded artist's poverty will be over. that is your opinion, and the majority of people will share it. but i have my peculiarities, and the thought of being rescued from hunger and thirst by the woman i love, and who ought to see in me the man from whom she receives the best gifts--to be dependent on her as the recipient of her alms--seems to me worse than if i were once more to lose my sight. i could not endure it at all! every mouthful would choke me. just because she is so dear to me, i can not seek her hand; for, in return for her great self-sacrificing love, i could give her nothing save the keen discontent which seizes the proud soul that is forced constantly to accept benefits, as surely as the ringing sound follows the blow upon the brass. my whole future life would become a chain of humiliations, and do you know whither this unfortunate marriage would lead? my teacher straton once said that a man learns to hate no one more easily than the person from whom he receives benefits which it is out of his power to repay. that is wise, and before i will see my great love for daphne transformed to hate, i will again try the starving which, while i was a sculptor at rhodes, i learned tolerably well." "but would not a great love," asked thyone, "suffice to repay tenfold the perishable gifts that can be bought with gold and silver?" "no, and again no!" hermon answered in an agitated tone. "something else would blend with the love i brought to the marriage, something that must destroy all the compensation it might offer; for i see myself becoming a resentful misanthrope if i am compelled to relinquish the pleasure of creating and, condemned to dull inaction, can do nothing except allow myself to be tended, drink, eat, and sleep. the gloomy mood of her unfortunate husband would sadden daphne's existence even more than my own; for, thyone, though i should strive with all my strength to bear patiently, with her dear aid, the burden imposed upon me, and move on through the darkness with joyous courage, like many another blind man, i could not succeed." "you are a man," the matron exclaimed indignantly, "and what thousands have done before you--" "there," he loudly protested, "i should surely fail; for, you dear woman, who mean so kindly by me, my fate is worse than theirs. do you know what just forced from my lips the exclamation of pain which alarmed you? i, the only child of the devout erigone, for whose sake you are so well disposed toward me, am doomed to misfortune as surely as the victim dragged to the altar is certain of death. of all the goddesses, there is only one in whose power i believe, and to whom i just raised my hands in prayer. it is the terrible one to whom i was delivered by hate and the deceived love which is now dragging me by the hair, and will rob and torture me till i despair of life. i mean the gray daughter of night, whom no one escapes, dread nemesis." thyone sank down into the chair by the blind artist's side, asking softly, "and what gave you into her avenging hands, hapless boy?" "my own abominable folly," he answered mournfully and, with the feeling that it would relieve his heart to pour out to this true friend what he would usually have confided only to his myrtilus, he hurriedly related how he had recognised in ledscha the best model for his arachne, how he had sought her love, and then, detained by althea, left her in the lurch and most deeply offended and insulted her. lastly, he gave a brief but vivid description of his meeting with the vengeful barbarian girl in the temple of nemesis, how ledscha had invoked upon him the wrath of the terrible goddess, and how the most horrible punishment had fallen upon him directly after the harsh accusation of the biamite. the matron had listened to this confession in breathless suspense. now she fixed her eyes on the floor, shook her gray head gently, and said anxiously: "is that it? it certainly puts things in a different light. as the son of your never-to-be-forgotten mother, you are indeed dear to my heart; but daphne is not less dear to me, and though in your marriage i just saw happiness for you both, that is now past. what is poverty, what is blindness! eros would reconcile far more difficult problems, but his arrows are shattered on the armour of nemesis. where there is a pair of lovers, and she raises her scourge against one of them, the other will also be struck. until you feel that you are freed from this persecutor, it would be criminal to bind a loving woman to you and your destiny. it is not easy to find the right path for you both, for even nemesis and her power do not make the slightest change in the fact that you need faithful care and watching in your blindness. daylight brings wisdom, and we will talk further to-morrow." she rose as she spoke; but hermon detained her, while from his lips escaped the anxious question, "so you will take daphne away from me, and leave me alone in my blindness?" "you in your blindness?" cried thyone, and the mere reproachful tone of the question banished the fear. "i would as quickly deprive my own son of my support as i would you just at this time, my poor boy; but whether my conscience will permit me to let daphne remain near you only grant me, i repeat it, until sunrise to-morrow for reflection. my old heart will then find the right way." "yet whatever you may decide concerning us," pleaded the blind man, "tell daphne that, on the eve of losing her, i first felt in its full power how warmly i love her. even without nemesis, the joy of making her mine would have been denied me. fate will never permit me to possess her; yet never again to hear her gentle voice, never more to feel her dear presence, would be blinding me a second time." "it need not be imposed upon you long," said the matron soothingly. then she went close to him, laid her hand on his shoulder, and said: "the power of the goddess who punishes the misdeeds of the reckless is called irresistible and uncontrollable; but one thing softens even her, and checks her usually resistless wheel: it is a mother's prayer. i heard this from my own mother, and experienced it myself, especially in my oldest son eumedes, who from the wildest madcap became an ornament of his class, and to whom the king--you doubtless know it--intrusted the command of the fleet which is to open the ethiopian land of elephants to the egyptian power. you, hermon, are an orphan, but for you, too, the souls of your parents live on. only i do not know whether you still honour and pray to them." "i did until a few years ago," replied hermon. "but later you neglected this sacred duty," added thyone. "yet how was that possible? in our barren pelusium i could not help thinking hundreds of times of the grove which archias planted in your necropolis for the dead members of his family, and how often, while we were in alexandria, it attracted me to think in its shade of your never-to-be-forgotten mother. there i felt her soul near me; for there was her home, and in imagination i saw her walking and resting under the trees. and you--her beloved child--you remained aloof from this hallowed spot! even at the festival of the dead you omitted prayers and sacrifices?" the blind artist assented to this question by a silent bend of the head; but the matron indignantly exclaimed: "and did not you know, unhappy man, that you were thus casting away the shield which protects mortals from the avenging gods? and your glorious mother, who would have given her life for you? yet you loved her, i suppose?" "thyone!" hermon cried, deeply wounded, holding out his right hand as if in defence. "well, well!" said the matron. "i know that you revere her memory. but that alone is not sufficient. on memorial festivals, and especially on the birthdays, a mother's soul needs a prayer and a gift from the son, a wreath, a fillet, fragrant ointment, a piece of honey, a cup of wine or milk--all these things even the poor man spares from his penury--yet a warm prayer, in pure remembrance and love, would suffice to rob the wrath of nemesis, which the enraged barbarian girl let loose upon you, of its power. only your mother, hermon, the soul of the noble woman who bore you, can restore to you what you have lost. appeal for aid to her, son of erigone, and she will yet make everything right." bending quickly over the artist as she spoke, she kissed his brow and moved steadily away, though he called her name with yearning entreaty. a short time after, the steward gras led hermon to his cabin, and while undressing him reported that a messenger from pelusium had announced that the commandant philippus was coming to tennis the next morning, before the market place filled, to take his wife with him to alexandria, where he was going by the king's command. hermon only half listened, and then ordered the bithynian to leave him. after he had reclined on the couch a short time, he softly called the names of the steward, thyone, and daphne. as he received no answer, and thus learned that he was alone, he rose, drew himself up to his full height, gazed heavenward with his bandaged eyes, stretched both hands toward the ceiling of the low cabin, and obeyed his friend's bidding. thoroughly convinced that he was doing right, and ashamed of having so long neglected what the duty of a son commanded, he implored his mother's soul for forgiveness. while doing so he again found that the figure which he recalled to his memory appeared before him with marvellous distinctness. never had she been so near him since, when a boy of seven, she clasped him for the last time to her heart. she tenderly held out her arms to him, and he rushed into her embrace, shouting exultantly while she hugged and kissed him. every pet name which he had once been so glad to hear, and during recent years had forgotten, again fell from her lips. as had often happened in days long past, he again saw his mother crown him for a festival. pleased with the little new garment which she herself had woven for him and embroidered with a tiny tree with red apples, beneath which stood a bright-plumaged duckling, she led him by the hand in the necropolis to the empty tomb dedicated to his father. it was a building the height of a man, constructed of red cyprian marble, on which, cast in bronze, shield, sword, and lance, as well as a beautiful helmet, lay beside a sleeping lion. it was dedicated to the memory of the brave hipparch whom he had been permitted to call his father, and who had been burned beside the battlefield on which he had found a hero's death. hermon now again beheld himself, with his mother, garlanding, anointing, and twining with fresh fillets the mausoleum erected by his uncle archias to his brave brother. the species of every flower, the colour of the fillets-nay, even the designs embroidered on his little holiday robe-again returned to his mind, and, while these pleasant memories hovered around him, he appealed to his mother in prayer. she stood before him, young and beautiful, listening without reproach or censure as he besought her forgiveness and confided to her his sins, and how severely he was punished by nemesis. during this confession he felt as though he was kneeling before the beloved dead, hiding his face in her lap, while she bent over him and stroked his thick, black hair. true, he did not hear her speak; but when he looked up again he could see, by the expression of her faithful blue eyes, that his manly appearance surprised her, and that she rejoiced in his return to her arms. she listened compassionately to his laments, and when he paused pressed his head to her bosom and gazed into his face with such joyous confidence that his heart swelled, and he told himself that she could not look at him thus unless she saw happiness in store for him. lastly, he began also to confide that he loved no woman on earth more ardently than the very daphne whom, when only a pretty little child, she had carried in her arms, yet that he could not seek the wealthy heiress because manly pride forbade this to the blind beggar. here the anguish of renunciation seized him with great violence, and when he wished to appeal again to his mother his exhausted imagination refused its service, and the vision would not appear. then he groped his way back to the bed, and, as he let his head sink upon the pillows, he fancied that he would soon be again enwrapped in the sweet slumber of childhood, which had long shunned his couch. it was years since he had felt so full of peace and hope, and he told himself, with grateful joy, that every childlike emotion had not yet died within him, that the stern conflicts and struggles of the last years had not yet steeled every gentle emotion. chapter iv. the sun of the following day had long passed its meridian when hermon at last woke. the steward gras, who had grown gray in the service of archias, was standing beside the couch. there was nothing in the round, beardless face of this well-fed yet active man that could have attracted the artist, yet the quiet tones of his deep voice recalled to memory the clear, steadfast gaze of his gray eyes, from which so often, in former days, inviolable fidelity, sound sense, caution, and prudence had looked forth at him. what the blind man heard from gras surprised him--nay, at first seemed impossible. to sleep until the afternoon was something unprecedented for his wakeful temperament; but what was he to say to the tidings that the commandant of pelusium had arrived in his state galley early in the morning and taken his wife, daphne, and chrysilla away with him to alexandria? yet it sounded credible enough when the bithynian further informed him that the ladies had left messages of remembrance for him, and said that archias's ship, upon which he was, would be at his disposal for any length of time he might desire. gras was commissioned to attend him. the lady thyone especially desired him to heed her counsel. while the steward was communicating this startling news as calmly as if everything was a matter of course, the events of the preceding night came back to hermon's memory with perfect distinctness, and again the fear assailed him that the rescued demeter was the work of myrtilus, and not his own. so the first question he addressed to gras concerned the tennis goldsmith, and it was a keen disappointment to hermon when he learned that the earliest time he could expect to see him would be the following day. the skilful artisan had been engaged for weeks upon the gold ornaments on the new doors of the holy of holies in the temple of amon at tanis. urgent business had called him home from the neighbouring city just before the night of the attack; but yesterday evening he had returned to tanis, where his wife said he would have only two days' work to do. this answer, however, by no means appeased hermon's impatience. he commanded that a special messenger should be sent to summon the goldsmith, and the bithynian received the order with a slight shake of his round head. what new trouble had befallen the usually alert young artist that he received this unexpected change in his situation as apathetically as a horse which is led from one stall to another, and, instead of questioning him, thought only of hastening his interview with the goldsmith? if his mistress, who had left him full of anxiety from the fear that her departure would deeply agitate the blind man, should learn how indifferently he had received it! he, gras, certainly would not betray it. eternal gods--these artists! he knew them. their work was dearer to their hearts than their own lives, love, or friendship. during breakfast, of which the steward was obliged to remind him, hermon pondered over his fate; but how could he attain any degree of clearness of vision until he secured accurate information concerning the statue of demeter? like a dark cloud, which sweeps over the starry sky and prevents the astronomer from seeing the planets which he desires to observe, the fear that proclus's praise had been bestowed upon the work of myrtilus stood between him and every goal of his thought. only the fact that he still remained blind, and not even the faintest glimmer of light pierced the surrounding darkness, while the sun continued its course with glowing radiance, and that, blinded and beggared, he must despise himself if he sought to win daphne, was certain. no reflection could alter it. again the peace of mind which he thought he had regained during slumber was destroyed. fear of the artisan's statement even rendered it impossible to pray to his mother with the affectionate devotion he had felt the day before. the goldsmith had directed the rescue of the demeter, yet he would scarcely have been able to distinguish it from the statue by myrtilus; for though, like his friend, he had often employed his skilful hands in the arrangement of the gold plates at the commencement of the work, the egyptian had been summoned to tennis before the statues had attained recognisable form. he had not entered the studios for several months, unless bias had granted him admittance without informing his master. this was quite possible, for the slave's keen eyes certainly had not failed to notice how little he and myrtilus valued the opinion of the honest, skilful, but extremely practical and unimaginative man, who could not create independently even the smallest detail. so it was impossible to determine at present whether chello had seen the finished statues or not, yet hermon desired the former with actual fervour, that he might have positive certainty. while reflecting over these matters, the image of the lean egyptian goldsmith, with his narrow, brown, smooth-shaven face and skull, prominent cheek bones, receding brow, projecting ears and, with all its keenness, lustreless glance, rose before him as if he could see his bodily presence. not a single word unconnected with his trade, the weather, or an accident, had ever reached the friends' ears from chello's thick lips, and this circumstance seemed to warrant hermon in the expectation of learning from him the pure, unadulterated truth. rarely had a messenger of love been awaited with such feverish suspense as the slave whom gras had despatched to tanis to induce the goldsmith to return home. he might come soon after nightfall, and hermon used the interval to ask the bithynian the questions which he had long expected. the replies afforded little additional information. he learned only that philippus had been summoned to alexandria by the king, and that the lady thyone and her husband had talked with the leech and assented to his opinion that it would be better for hermon to wait here until the burns on his face were healed before returning to alexandria. for daphne's sake this decision had undoubtedly been welcome to the matron, and it pleased him also; for he still felt so ill physically, and so agitated mentally, that he shrank from meeting his numerous acquaintances in the capital. the goldsmith! the goldsmith! it depended upon his decision whether he would return to alexandria at all. soon after hermon had learned from gras that the stars had risen, he was informed that he must wait patiently for his interview with the egyptian, as he had been summoned to the capital that very day by a messenger from proclus. then the steward had fresh cause to marvel at his charge, for this news aroused the most vehement excitement. in fact, it afforded the prospect of a series--perhaps a long one--of the most torturing days and nights. and the dreaded hours actually came-nay, the anguish of uncertainty had be come almost unendurable, when, on the seventh day, the egyptian at last returned from alexandria. they had seemed like weeks to hermon, had made his face thinner, and mingled the first silver hairs in his black beard. the calls of the cheerful notary and the daily visits of the leech, an elderly man, who had depressed rather than cheered him by informing him of many cases like his own which all proved incurable, had been his sole diversion. true, the heads of the greek residents of tennis had also sometimes sought him: the higher government officials, the lessees of the oil monopoly and the royal bank, as well as gorgias, who, next to archias the alexandrian, owned the largest weaving establishments, but the tales of daily incidents with which they entertained hermon wearied him. he listened with interest only to the story of ledscha's disappearance, yet he perceived, from the very slight impression it made upon him, how little he had really cared for the biamite girl. his inquiries about gula called down upon him many well-meant jests. she was with her parents; while taus, ledscha's young sister, was staying at the brick-kiln, where the former had reduced the unruly slaves to submission. care had been taken to provide for his personal safety, for the attack might perhaps yet prove to have been connected with the jealousy of the biamite husbands. the commandant of pelusium had therefore placed a small garrison of heavily armed soldiers and archers in tennis, for whom tents had been pitched on the site of the burned white house. words of command and signals for changing the guards often reached hermon when he was on the deck of his ship, and visitors praised the wise caution and prompt action of alexander the great's old comrade. the notary, a vivacious man of fifty, who had lived a long time in alexandria and, asserting that he grew dull and withered in little tennis, went to the capital as frequently as possible, had often called upon the sculptor at first, and been disposed to discuss art and the other subjects dear to hermon's heart, but on the third day he again set off for his beloved alexandria. when saying farewell, he had been unusually merry, and asked hermon to send him away with good wishes and offer sacrifices for the success of his business, since he hoped to bring a valuable gift on his return from the journey. the blind artist was glad to have other visits for a short time, but he preferred to be alone and devote his thoughts to his own affairs. he now knew that his love was genuine. daphne seemed the very incarnation of desirable, artless, heart-refreshing womanliness, but his memory could not dwell with her long; anxiety concerning chello's report only too quickly interrupted it, as soon as he yielded to its charm. he did not think at all of the future. what was he to appoint for a time which the words of a third person might render unendurable? when gras at last ushered in the goldsmith, his heart throbbed so violently that it was difficult for him to find the words needed for the questions he desired to ask. the egyptian had really been summoned to alexandria by proclus, not on account of the demeter, but the clasp said to belong to myrtilus, found amid the ruins of the fallen house, and he had been able to identify it with absolute positiveness as the sculptor's property. he had been referred from one office to another, until finally the tennis notary and proclus opened the right doors to him. now the importance of his testimony appeared, since the will of the wealthy young sculptor could not be opened until his death was proved, and the clasp which had been found aided in doing so. hermon's question whether he had heard any particulars about this will was answered by the cold-hearted, dull-brained man in the negative. he had done enough, he said, by expressing his opinion. he had gone to alexandria unwillingly, and would certainly have stayed in tennis if he could have foreseen what a number of tiresome examinations he would be obliged to undergo. he had been burning with impatience to quit the place, on account of the important work left behind in tanis, and he did not even know whether he would be reimbursed for his travelling expenses. during this preliminary conversation hermon gained the composure he needed. he began by ascertaining whether chello remembered the interior arrangement of the burned white house, and it soon appeared that he recollected it accurately. then the blind man requested him to tell how the rescue of the statue had been managed, and the account of the extremely prosaic artisan described so clearly and practically how, on entering the burning building, he found myrtilus's studio already inaccessible, but the statue of demeter in hermon's still uninjured, that the trustworthiness of his story could not be doubted. one circumstance only appeared strange, yet it was easily explained. instead of standing on the pedestal, the demeter was beside it, and even the slow-witted goldsmith inferred from this fact that the robbers had intended to steal it and placed it on the floor for that purpose, but were prevented from accomplishing their design by the interference of hermon and the people from tennis. after the egyptian, in reply to the artist's inquiry concerning what other works of art and implements he had seen in the studio, had answered that nothing else could be distinguished on account of the smoke, he congratulated the sculptor on his last work. people were already making a great stir about the new demeter. it had been discussed not only in the workshop of his brother, who, like himself, followed their father's calling, but also in the offices, at the harbour, in the barbers' rooms and the cookshops, and he, too, must admit that, for a greek goddess, that always lacked genuine, earnest dignity, it really was a pretty bit of work. lastly, the egyptian asked to whom he should apply for payment for the remainder of his labour. the strip of gold, from which hermon had ordered the diadem to be made, had attracted his attention on the head of his demeter, and compensation for the work upon this ornament was still due. hermon, deeply agitated, asked, with glowing cheeks, whether chello really positively remembered having prepared for him the gold diadem which he had seen in alexandria, and the egyptian eagerly assured him that he had done so. hitherto he had found the sculptors honest men, and hermon would not withhold the payment for his well-earned toil. the artist strenuously denied such an intention; but when, in his desire to have the most absolute assurance, he again asked questions about the diadem, the egyptian thought that the blind sculptor doubted the justice of his demand, and wrathfully insisted upon his claim, until gras managed to whisper, undetected by hermon, that he would have the money ready for him. this satisfied the angry man. he honestly believed that he had prepared the gold for the ornament on the head of the demeter in alexandria; yet the statue chiselled by myrtilus had also been adorned with a diadem, and chello had wrought the strip of gold it required. only it had escaped his memory, because he had been paid for the work immediately after its delivery. glad to obey his mistress's orders to settle at once any debts which the artist might have in tennis, the steward followed the goldsmith while hermon, seizing the huge goblet which had just been filled with wine and water for him drained it at one long draught. then, with sigh of relief, he restored it to its place, raised his hand and his blinded eyes heavenward, and offered a brief, fervent thanksgiving to his mother's soul and the great demeter, whom, he might now believe it himself, he had honoured with a masterpiece which had extorted warm admiration even from a connoisseur unfriendly his art. when gras returned, he said, with a grin of satisfaction, that the goldsmith was like all the rest of his countrymen. the artists did not owe him another drachm; the never-to-be-forgotten myrtilus had paid for the work ordered by hermon also. then, for the first time since he had been led on board the ship, a gay laugh rang fro the blind man's lips, rising in deep, pure, joyous tones from his relieved breast. the faithful gray eyes of honest gras glittered with tears at the musical tones, and how ardently he wished for his beloved mistress when the sculptor, not content with this, exclaimed as gleefully as in happier days: "hitherto i have had no real pleasure from my successful work, old gras, but it is awaking now! if my myrtilus were still alive, and these miserable eyes yet possessed the power of rejoicing in the light and in beautiful human forms, by the dog! i would have the mixing vessels filled, wreath after wreath brought, boon companions summoned, and with flute-playing, songs, and fiery words, offer the muses, demeter, and dionysus their due meed of homage!" gras declared that this wish might easily be fulfilled. there was no lack of wine or drinking cups on the vessel, the flute-players whom he had heard in the odeum at tanis did not understand their business amiss, flowers and wreaths could be obtained, and all who spoke greek in tennis would accept his invitation. but the bithynian soon regretted this proposal, for it fell like a hoarfrost upon the blind man's happy mood. he curtly declined. he would not play host where he was himself a guest, and pride forbade him to use the property of others as though it were his own. he could not regain his suddenly awakened pleasure in existence before gras warned him it was time to go to rest. not until he was alone in the quiet cabin did the sense of joy in his first great success overpower him afresh. he might well feel proud delight in the work which he had created, for he had accomplished it without being unfaithful to the aims he had set before him. it had been taken from his own studio, and the skilful old artisan had recognised his preliminary work upon the diadem which he, hermon, had afterward adorned with ornaments himself. but, alas! this first must at the same time be his last great success, and he was condemned to live on in darkness. although abundant recognition awaited him in alexandria, his quickly gained renown would soon be forgotten, and he would remain a beggared blind man. but it was now allowable for him to think secretly of possessing daphne; perhaps she would wait for him and reject other suitors until he learned in the capital whether he might not hope to recover his lost sight. he was at least secure against external want; the generous archias would hardly withhold from him the prize he had intended for the successful statue, although the second had been destroyed. the great merchant would do everything for his fame-crowned nephew, and he, hermon, was conscious that had his uncle been in his situation he would have divided his last obol with him. refusal of his assistance would have been an insult to his paternal friend and guardian. lastly, he might hope that archias would take him to the most skilful leeches in alexandria and, if they succeeded in restoring his lost power of vision, then--then yet it seemed so presumptuous to lull himself in this hope that he forbade himself the pleasure of indulging it. amid these consoling reflections, hermon fell asleep, and awoke fresher and more cheerful than he had been for some time. he had to spend two whole weeks more in tennis, for the burns healed slowly, and an anxious fear kept him away from alexandria. there the woman he loved would again meet him and, though he could assure thyone that nemesis had turned her wheel away from him, he would have been permitted to treat daphne only with cool reserve, while every fibre of his being urged him to confess his love and clasp her in his arms. gras had already written twice to his master, telling him with what gratifying patience hermon was beginning to submit to his great misfortune, when the notary melampus returned from alexandria with news which produced the most delightful transformation in the blind artist's outer life. more swiftly than his great corpulence usually permitted the jovial man to move, he ascended to the deck, calling: "great, greater, the greatest of news i bring, as the heaviest but by no means the most dilatory of messengers of good fortune from the city of cities. prick up your ears, my friend, and summon all your strength, for there are instances of the fatal effect of especially lavish gifts from the blind and yet often sure aim of the goddess of fortune. the demeter, in whom you proved so marvellously that the art of a mortal is sufficient to create immortals, is beginning to show her gratitude. she is helping to twine wreaths for you in alexandria." here the vivacious man suddenly hesitated and, while wiping his plump cheeks, perspiring brow, and smooth, fat double chin with his kerchief, added in a tone of sincere regret: "that's the way with me! in one thing which really moves me, i always forget the other. the fault sticks to me like my ears and nose. when my mother gave me two errands, i attended to the first in the best possible way, but overlooked the second entirely, and was paid for it with my father's staff, yet even the blue wales made no change in the fault. but for that i should still be in the city of cities; but it robbed me of my best clients, and so i was transferred to this dullest of holes. even here it clings to me. my detestable exultation just now proves it. yet i know how dear to you was the dead man who manifests his love even from the grave. but you will forgive me the false note into which my weakness led me; it sprang from regard for you, my young friend. to serve your cause, i forgot everything else. like my mother's first errand, it was performed in the best possible way. you will learn directly. by the lightnings of father zeus and the owl of athene, the news i bring is certainly great and beautiful; but he who yearned to make you happy was snatched from you and, though his noble legacy must inspire pleasure and gratitude, it will nevertheless fill your poor eyes with sorrowful tears." melampus turned, as he spoke, to the misshapen egyptian slave who performed the duties of a clerk, and took several rolls from the drumshaped case that hung around his neck; but his prediction concerning hermon was speedily fulfilled, for the notary handed him the will of his friend myrtilus. it made him the heir of his entire fortune and, however happy the unexpected royal gift rendered the blind man, however cheering might be the prospects it opened to him for the future and the desire of his heart, sobs nevertheless interrupted the affectionate words which commenced the document melampus read aloud to him. doubtless the tears which hermon dedicated to the most beloved of human beings made his blinded eyes smart, but he could not restrain them, and even long after the notary had left him, and the steward had congratulated him on his good fortune, the deep emotion of his tender heart again and again called forth a fresh flood of tears consecrated to the memory of his friend. the notary had already informed the grammateus of the disposition which myrtilus had made of his property in hermon's favour a few days before, but, by the advice of the experienced proclus, the contents of the will had been withheld from the sculptor; the unfortunate man ought to be spared any disappointment, and proof that myrtilus was really among the victims of the accident must first be obtained. the clasp found in the ruins of the white house appeared to furnish this, and the notary had put all other business aside and gone to alexandria to settle the matter. the goldsmith chello, who had fastened a new pin to the clasp, and could swear that it had belonged to myrtilus, had been summoned to the capital as a witness, and, with the aid of the influential grammateus of the dionysian games and priest of apollo, the zeal of melampus had accomplished in a short time the settlement of this difficult affair, which otherwise might perhaps have consumed several months. the violent death of myrtilus had been admitted as proved by the magistrate, who had been prepossessed in hermon's favour by his masterpiece. besides, no doubts could be raised concerning the validity of a will attested by sixteen witnesses. the execution of this last testament had been intrusted to archias, as myrtilus's nearest relative, and several other distinguished alexandrians. the amount of the fortune bequeathed had surprised even these wealthy men, for under the prudent management of archias the property inherited by the modest young sculptor had trebled in value. the poor blind artist had suddenly become a man who might be termed "rich," even in the great capital. again the steward shook his head; this vast, unexpected inheritance did not seem to make half so deep an impression upon the eccentric blind man as the news received a short time ago that his trivial debt to the goldsmith chello was already settled. but hermon must have dearly loved the friend to whom he owed this great change of fortune, and grief for him had cast joy in his immense new wealth completely into the shade. this conjecture was confirmed on the following morning, for the blind man had himself led to the greek necropolis to offer sacrifices to the gods of the nether world and to think of his friend. when, soon after noon, the lessee of the royal bank appeared on the ship to offer him as many drachmae or talents as he might need for present use, he asked for a considerable sum to purchase a larger death-offering for his murdered friend. the next morning he went with the architect of the province to the scene of the conflagration, and had him mark the spot of ground on which he desired to erect to his myrtilus a monument to be made in alexandria. at sunset, leaning on the steward's arm, he went to the temple of nemesis, where he prayed and commissioned the priest to offer a costly sacrifice to the goddess in his name. on the return home, hermon suddenly stood still and mentioned to gras the sum which he intended to bestow upon the blind in tennis. he knew now what it means to live bereft of light, and, he added in a low tone, to be also poor and unable to earn his daily bread. on the ship he asked the bithynian whether his burned face had become presentable again, and no longer made a repulsive impression. this gras could truthfully assure him. then the artist's features brightened, and the bithynian heard genuine cheerfulness ring in the tones of his voice as he exclaimed: "then, old gras, we will set out for alexandria as soon as the ship is ready to sail. back to life, to the society of men of my own stamp, to reap the praise earned by my own creations, and to the only divine maiden among mortals--to daphne!" "the day after to-morrow!" exclaimed the steward in joyous excitement; and soon after the carrier dove was flying toward the house of archias, bearing the letter which stated the hour when his fame-crowned blind nephew would enter the great harbour of alexandria. the evening of the next day but one the proserpina was bearing hermon away from the city of weavers toward home. as the evening breeze fanned his brow, his thoughts dwelt sadly on his myrtilus. hitherto it had always seemed as if he was bound, and must commit some atrocious deed to use the seething power condemned to inaction. but as the galley left the tanitic branch of the nile behind, and the blind man inhaled the cool air upon the calm sea, his heart swelled, and for the first time he became fully aware that, though the light of the sun would probably never shine for him again, and therefore the joy of creating, the rapture of once more testing his fettered strength, would probably be forever denied him, other stars might perhaps illumine his path, and he was going, in a position of brilliant independence, toward his native city, fame, and--eternal gods!--love. daphne had conquered, and he gave only a passing thought to ledscha and the hapless weaver arachne. etext editor's bookmarks: chance, which took no heed of merit or unworthiness deceived himself concerning the value of his own work gods whom men had invented after their own likeness hate the person from whom he receives benefits this ebook was produced by david widger <widger@cecomet.net> [note: there is a short list of bookmarks, or pointers, at the end of the file for those who may wish to sample the author's ideas before making an entire meal of them. d.w.] an egyptian princess, part 2. by georg ebers volume 9. chapter xi. according to the law of egypt, zopyrus had deserved death. as soon as his friends heard this, they resolved to go to sais and try to rescue him by stratagem. syloson, who had friends there and could speak the egyptian language well, offered to help them. bartja and darius disguised themselves so completely by dyeing their hair and eyebrows and wearing broad-brimmed felt-hats,--that they could scarcely recognize each other. theopompus provided them with ordinary greek dresses, and, an hour after zopyrus' arrest, they met the splendidly-got-up syloson on the shore of the nile, entered a boat belonging to him and manned by his slaves, and, after a short sail, favored by the wind, reached sais,--which lay above the waters of the inundation like an island,--before the burning midsummer sun had reached its noonday height. they disembarked at a remote part of the town and walked across the quarter appropriated to the artisans. the workmen were busy at their calling, notwithstanding the intense noonday heat. the baker's men were at work in the open court of the bakehouse, kneading bread--the coarser kind of dough with the feet, the finer with the hands. loaves of various shapes were being drawn out of the ovens-round and oval cakes, and rolls in the form of sheep, snails and hearts. these were laid in baskets, and the nimble baker's boys would put three, four, or even five such baskets on their heads at once, and carry them off quickly and safely to the customers living in other quarters of the city. a butcher was slaughtering an ox before his house, the creature's legs having been pinioned; and his men were busy sharpening their knives to cut up a wild goat. merry cobblers were calling out to the passers-by from their stalls; carpenters, tailors, joiners and weavers--were all there, busy at their various callings. the wives of the work-people were going out marketing, leading their naked children by the hand, and some soldiers were loitering near a man who was offering beer and wine for sale. but our friends took very little notice of what was going on in the streets through which they passed; they followed syloson in silence. at the greek guard-house he asked them to wait for him. syloson, happening to know the taxiarch who was on duty that day, went in and asked him if he had heard anything of a man accused of murder having been brought from naukratis to sais that morning. "of course," said the greek. "it's not more than half an hour since he arrived. as they found a purse full of money in his girdle, they think he must be a persian spy. i suppose you know that cambyses is preparing for war with egypt." "impossible!" "no, no, it's a fact. the prince-regent has already received information. a caravan of arabian merchants arrived yesterday at pelusium, and brought the news." "it will prove as false as their suspicions about this poor young lydian. i know him well, and am very sorry for the poor fellow. he belongs to one of the richest families in sardis, and only ran away for fear of the powerful satrap oroetes, with whom he had had a quarrel. i'll tell you the particulars when you come to see me next in naukratis. of course you'll stay a few days and bring some friends. my brother has sent me some wine which beats everything i ever tasted. it's perfect nectar, and i confess i grudge offering it to any one who's not, like you, a perfect judge in such matters." the taxiarch's face brightened up at these words, and grasping syloson's hand, he exclaimed. "by the dog, my friend, we shall not wait to be asked twice; we'll come soon enough and take a good pull at your wine-skins. how would it be if you were to ask archidice, the three flower-sisters, and a few flute-playing-girls to supper?" [archidice--a celebrated hetaira of naukratis mentioned by herod. ii. 135. flute-playing girls were seldom missing at the young greeks' drinking-parties] "they shall all be there. by the bye, that reminds me that the flowergirls were the cause of that poor young lydian's imprisonment. some jealous idiot attacked him before their house with a number of comrades. the hot-brained young fellow defended himself . . . ." "and knocked the other down?" "yes; and so that he'll never get up again." "the boy must be a good boxer." "he had a sword." "so much the better for him." "no, so much the worse; for his victim was an egyptian." "that's a bad job. i fear it can only have an unfortunate end. a foreigner, who kills an egyptian, is as sure of death as if he had the rope already round his neck. however, just now he'll get a few days' grace; the priests are all so busy praying for the dying king that they have no time to try criminals." "i'd give a great deal to be able to save that poor fellow. i know his father." "yes, and then after all he only did his duty. a man must defend himself." "do you happen to know where he is imprisoned?" "of course i do. the great prison is under repair, and so he has been put for the present in the storehouse between the principal guard-house of the egyptian body-guard and the sacred grove of the temple of neith. i have only just come home from seeing them take him there." "he is strong and has plenty of courage; do you think he could get away, if we helped him?" "no, it would be quite impossible; he's in a room two stories high; the only window looks into the sacred grove, and that, you know, is surrounded by a ten-foot wall, and guarded like the treasury. there are double sentries at every gate. there's only one place where it is left unguarded during the inundation season, because, just here, the water washes the walls. these worshippers of animals are as cautious as waterwagtails." "well, it's a great pity, but i suppose we must leave the poor fellow to his fate. good-bye, doemones; don't forget my invitation." the samian left the guard-room and went back directly to the two friends, who were waiting impatiently for him. they listened eagerly to his tidings, and when he had finished his description of the prison, darius exclaimed: "i believe a little courage will save him. he's as nimble as a cat, and as strong as a bear. i have thought of a plan." "let us hear it," said syloson, "and let me give an opinion as to its practicability." "we will buy some rope-ladders, some cord, and a good bow, put all these into our boat, and row to the unguarded part of the temple-wall at dusk. you must then help me to clamber over it. i shall take the things over with me and give the eagle's cry. zopyras will know at once, because, since we were children, we have been accustomed to use it when we were riding or hunting together. then i shall shoot an arrow, with the cord fastened to it, up into his window, (i never miss), tell him to fasten a weight to it and let it down again to me. i shall then secure the ropeladder to the cord, zopyrus will draw the whole affair up again, and hang it on an iron nail,--which, by the bye, i must not forget to send up with the ladder, for who knows whether he may have such a thing in his cell. he will then come down on it, go quickly with me to the part of the wall where you will be waiting with the boat, and where there must be another rope-ladder, spring into the boat, and there he is-safe!" "first-rate, first-rate!" cried bartja. "but very dangerous," added syloson. "if we are caught in the sacred grove, we are certain to be severely punished. the priests hold strange nightly festivals there, at which every one but the initiated is strictly forbidden to appear. i believe, however, that these take place on the lake, and that is at some distance from zopyrus' prison." "so much the better," cried darius; "but now to the main point. we must send at once, and ask theopompus to hire a fast trireme for us, and have it put in sailing order at once. the news of cambyses' preparations have already reached egypt; they take us for spies, and will be sure not to let either zopyrus or his deliverers escape, if they can help it. it would be a criminal rashness to expose ourselves uselessly to danger. bartja, you must take this message yourself, and must marry sappho this very day, for, come what may, we must leave naukratis to-morrow. don't contradict me, my friend, my brother! you know our plan, and you must see that as only one can act in it, your part would be that of a mere looker-on. as it was my own idea i am determined to carry it out myself. we shall meet again to-morrow, for auramazda protects the friendship of the pure." it was a long time before they could persuade bartja to leave his friends in the lurch, but their entreaties and representations at last took effect, and he went down towards the river to take a boat for naukratis, darius and syloson going at the same time to buy the necessary implements for their plan. in order to reach the place where boats were to be hired, bartja had to pass by the temple of neith. this was not easy, as an immense crowd was assembled at the entrance-gates. he pushed his way as far as the obelisks near the great gate of the temple with its winged sun-disc and fluttering pennons, but there the temple-servants prevented him from going farther; they were keeping the avenue of sphinxes clear for a procession. the gigantic doors of the pylon opened, and bartja, who, in spite of himself, had been pushed into the front row, saw a brilliant procession come out of the temple. the unexpected sight of many faces he had formerly known occupied his attention so much, that he scarcely noticed the loss of his broad-brimmed hat, which had been knocked off in the crowd. from the conversation of two ionian mercenaries behind him he learnt that the family of amasis had been to the temple to pray for the dying king. the procession was headed by richly-decorated priests, either wearing long white robes or pantherskins. they were followed by men holding office at the court, and carrying golden staves, on the ends of which peacocks' feathers and silver lotus-flowers were fastened, and these by pastophori, carrying on their shoulders a golden cow, the animal sacred to isis. when the crowd had bowed down before this sacred symbol, the queen appeared. she was dressed in priestly robes and wore a costly head-dress with the winged disc and the uraeus. in her left hand she held a sacred golden sistrum, the tones of which were to scare away typhon, and in her right some lotus-flowers. the wife, daughter and sister of the high-priest followed her, in similar but less splendid ornaments. then came the heir to the throne, in rich robes of state, as priest and prince; and behind him four young priests in white carrying tachot, (the daughter of amasis and ladice and the pretended sister of nitetis,) in an open litter. the heat of the day, and the earnestness of her prayers, had given the sick girl a slight color. her blue eyes, filled with tears, were fixed on the sistrum which her weak, emaciated hands had hardly strength to hold. a murmur of compassion ran through the crowd; for they loved their dying king, and manifested openly and gladly the sympathy so usually felt for young lives from whom a brilliant future has been snatched by disease. such was amasis' young, fading daughter, who was now being carried past them, and many an eye grew dim as the beautiful invalid came in sight. tachot seemed to notice this, for she raised her eyes from the sistrum and looked kindly and gratefully at the crowd. suddenly the color left her face, she turned deadly pale, and the golden sistrum fell on to the stone pavement with a clang, close to bartja's feet. he felt that he had been recognized and for one moment thought of hiding himself in the crowd; but only for one moment--his chivalrous feeling gained the day, he darted forward, picked up the sistrum, and forgetting the danger in which he was placing himself, held it out to the princess. tachot looked at him earnestly before taking the golden sistrum from his hands, and then said, in a low voice, which only he could understand: "are you bartja? tell me, in your mother's name--are you bartja?" "yes, i am," was his answer, in a voice as low as her own, "your friend, bartja." he could not say more, for the priests pushed him back among the crowd. when he was in his old place, he noticed that tachot, whose bearers had begun to move on again, was looking round at him. the color had come back into her cheeks, and her bright eyes were trying to meet his. he did not avoid them; she threw him a lotus-bud-he stooped to pick it up, and then broke his way through the crowd, for this hasty act had roused their attention. a quarter of an hour later, he was seated in the boat which was to take him to sappho and to his wedding. he was quite at ease now about zopyrus. in bartja's eyes his friend was already as good as saved, and in spite of the dangers which threatened himself, he felt strangely calm and happy, he could hardly say why. meanwhile the sick princess had been carried home, had had her oppressive ornaments taken off, and her couch carried on to one of the palacebalconies where she liked best to pass the hot summer days, sheltered by broad-leaved plants, and a kind of awning. from this veranda, she could look down into the great fore-court of the palace, which was planted with trees. to-day it was full of priests, courtiers, generals and governors of provinces. anxiety and suspense were expressed in every face: amasis' last hour was drawing very near. tachot could not be seen from below; but listening with feverish eagerness, she could hear much that was said. now that they had to dread the loss of their king, every one, even the priests, were full of his praises. the wisdom and circumspection of his plans and modes of government, his unwearied industry, the moderation he had always shown, the keenness of his wit, were, each and all, subjects of admiration. "how egypt has prospered under amasis' government!" said a nomarch. "and what glory he gained for our arms, by the conquest of cyprus and the war with the libyans!" cried one of the generals. "how magnificently he embellished our temples, and what great honors he paid to the goddess of sais!" exclaimed one of the singers of neith. "and then how gracious and condescending he was!" murmured a courtier. "how cleverly he managed to keep peace with the great powers!" said the secretary of state, and the treasurer, wiping away a tear, cried: "how thoroughly he understood the management of the revenue! since the reign of rameses iii. the treasury has not been so well filled as now." "psamtik comes into a fine inheritance," lisped the courtier, and the soldier exclaimed, "yes, but it's to be feared that he'll not spend it in a glorious war; he's too much under the influence of the priests." "no, you are wrong there," answered the temple-singer. "for some time past, our lord and master has seemed to disdain the advice of his most faithful servants." "the successor of such a father will find it difficult to secure universal approbation," said the nomarch. "it is not every one who has the intellect, the good fortune and the wisdom of amasis." "the gods know that!" murmured the warrior with a sigh. tachot's tears flowed fast. these words were a confirmation of what they had been trying to hide from her: she was to lose her dear father soon. after she had made this dreadful certainty clear to her own mind, and discovered that it was in vain to beg her attendants to carry her to her dying father, she left off listening to the courtiers below, and began looking at the sistrum which bartja himself had put into her hand, and which she had brought on to the balcony with her, as if seeking comfort there. and she found what she sought; for it seemed to her as if the sound of its sacred rings bore her away into a smiling, sunny landscape. that faintness which so often comes over people in decline, had seized her and was sweetening her last hours with pleasant dreams. the female slaves, who stood round to fan away the flies, said afterwards that tachot had never looked so lovely. she had lain about an hour in this state, when her breathing became more difficult, a slight cough made her breast heave, and the bright red blood trickled down from her lips on to her white robe. she awoke, and looked surprised and disappointed on seeing the faces round her. the sight of her mother, however, who came on to the veranda at that moment, brought a smile to her face, and she said, "o mother, i have had such a beautiful dream." "then our visit to the temple has done my dear child good?" asked the queen, trembling at the sight of the blood on the sick girl's lips. "oh, yes, mother, so much! for i saw him again." ladice's glance at the attendants seemed to ask "has your poor mistress lost her senses?" tachot understood the look and said, evidently speaking with great difficulty: "you think i am wandering, mother. no, indeed, i really saw and spoke to him. he gave me my sistrum again, and said he was my friend, and then he took my lotus-bud and vanished. don't look so distressed and surprised, mother. what i say is really true; it is no dream.--there, you hear, tentrut saw him too. he must have come to sais for my sake, and so the child-oracle in the temple-court did not deceive me, after all. and now i don't feel anything more of my illness; i dreamt i was lying in a field of blooming poppies, as red as the blood of the young lambs that are offered in sacrifice; bartja was sitting by my side, and nitetis was kneeling close to us and playing wonderful songs on a nabla made of ivory. and there was such a lovely sound in the air that i felt as if horus, the beautiful god of morning, spring, and the resurrection, was kissing me. yes, mother, i tell you he is coming soon, and when i am well, then--then--ah, mother what is this? . . . i am dying!" ladice knelt down by her child's bed and pressed her lips in burning kisses on the girl's eyes as they grew dim in death. an hour later she was standing by another bedside--her dying husband's. severe suffering had disfigured the king's features, the cold perspiration was standing on his forehead, and his hands grasped the golden lions on the arms of the deep-seated invalid chair in which he was resting, almost convulsively. when ladice came in he opened his eyes; they were as keen and intelligent as if he had never lost his sight. "why do not you bring tachot to me?" he asked in a dry voice. "she is too ill, and suffers so much, that . . ." "she is dead! then it is well with her, for death is not punishment; it is the end and aim of life,--the only end that we can attain without effort, but through sufferings!--the gods alone know how great. osiris has taken her to himself, for she was innocent. and nitetis is dead too. where is nebenchari's letter?" "here is the place: 'she took her own life, and died calling down a heavy curse on thee and thine. the poor, exiled, scorned and plundered oculist nebenchari in babylon sends thee this intelligence to egypt. it is as true as his own hatred of thee.' listen to these words, psamtik, and remember how on his dying bed thy father told thee that, for every drachm of pleasure purchased on earth by wrong-doing, the dying bed will be burdened by a talent's weight of remorse. fearful misery is coming on egypt for nitetis' sake. cambyses is preparing to make war on us. he will sweep down on egypt like a scorching wind from the desert. much, which i have staked my nightly sleep and the very marrow of my existence to bring into existence, will be annihilated. still i have not lived in vain. for forty years i have been the careful father and benefactor of a great nation. children and children's children will speak of amasis as a great, wise and humane king; they will read my name on the great works which i have built in sais and thebes, and will praise the greatness of my power. neither shall i be condemned by osiris and the forty-two judges of the nether world; the goddess of truth, who holds the balances, will find that my good deeds outweigh my bad."--here the king sighed deeply and remained silent for some time. then, looking tenderly at his wife, he said: "ladice, thou hast been a faithful, virtuous wife to me. for this i thank thee, and ask thy forgiveness for much. we have often misunderstood one another. indeed it was easier for me to accustom myself to the greek modes of thought, than for a greek to understand our egyptian ideas. thou know'st my love of greek art,--thou know'st how i enjoyed the society of thy friend pythagoras, who was thoroughly initiated in all that we believe and know, and adopted much from us. he comprehended the deep wisdom which lies in the doctrines that i reverence most, and he took care not to speak lightly of truths which our priests are perhaps too careful to hide from the people; for though the many bow down before that which they cannot understand, they would be raised and upheld by those very truths, if explained to them. to a greek mind our worship of animals presents the greatest difficulty, but to my own the worship of the creator in his creatures seems more just and more worthy of a human being, than the worship of his likeness in stone. the greek deities are moreover subject to every human infirmity; indeed i should have made my queen very unhappy by living in the same manner as her great god zeus." at these words the king smiled, and then went on: "and what has given rise to this? the hellenic love of beauty in form, which, in the eye of a greek, is superior to every thing else. he cannot separate the body from the soul, because he holds it to be the most glorious of formed things, and indeed, believes that a beautiful spirit must necessarily inhabit a beautiful body. their gods, therefore, are only elevated human beings, but we adore an unseen power working in nature and in ourselves. the animal takes its place between ourselves and nature; its actions are guided, not, like our own, by the letter, but by the eternal laws of nature, which owe their origin to the deity, while the letter is a device of man's own mind. and then, too, where amongst ourselves do we find so earnest a longing and endeavor to gain freedom, the highest good, as among the animals? where such a regular and well-balanced life from generation to generation, without instruction or precept?" here the king's voice failed. he was obliged to pause for a few moments, and then continued: "i know that my end is near; therefore enough of these matters. my son and successor, hear my last wishes and act upon them; they are the result of experience. but alas! how often have i seen, that rules of life given by one man to another are useless. every man must earn his own experience. his own losses make him prudent, his own learning wise. thou, my son, art coming to the throne at a mature age; thou hast had time and opportunity to judge between right and wrong, to note what is beneficial and what hurtful, to see and compare many things. i give thee, therefore, only a few wholesome counsels, and only fear that though i offer them with my right hand, thou wilt accept them with the left. "first, however, i must say that, notwithstanding my blindness, my indifference to what has been going on during the past months has been only apparent. i left you to your own devices with a good intention. rhodopis told me once one of her teacher aesop's fables: 'a traveller, meeting a man on his road, asked him how long it would be before he reached the nearest town.' 'go on, go on,' cried the other. 'but i want to know first when i shall get to the town.' 'go on, only go on,' was the answer. the traveller left him with angry words and abuse; but he had not gone many steps when the man called after him: 'you will be there in an hour. i could not answer your question until i had seen your pace.' "i bore this fable in my mind for my son's sake, and watched in silence at what pace he was ruling his people. now i have discovered what i wish to know, and this is my advice: examine into everything your self. it is the duty of every man, but especially of a king, to acquaint himself intimately with all that concerns the weal or woe of his people. you, my son, are in the habit of using the eyes and ears of other men instead of going to the fountain-head yourself. i am sure that your advisers, the priests, only desire what is good; but . . . neithotep, i must beg you to leave us alone for a few moments." when the priest was gone the king exclaimed "they wish for what is good, but good only for themselves. but we are not kings of priests and aristocrats only, we are kings of a nation! do not listen to the advice of this proud caste alone, but read every petition yourself, and, by appointing nomarchs devoted to the king and beloved by the people, make yourself acquainted with the needs and wishes of the egyptian nation. it is not difficult to govern well, if you are aware of the state of feeling in your land. choose fit men to fill the offices of state. i have taken care that the kingdom shall be properly divided. the laws are good, and have proved themselves so; hold fast by these laws, and trust no one who sets himself above them; for law is invariably wiser than the individual man, and its transgressor deserves his punishment. the people understand this well, and are ready to sacrifice themselves for us, when they see that we are ready to give up our own will to the law. you do not care for the people. i know their voice is often rude and rough, but it utters wholesome truths, and no one needs to hear truth more than a king. the pharaoh who chooses priests and courtiers for his advisers, will hear plenty of flattering words, while he who tries to fulfil the wishes of the nation will have much to suffer from those around him; but the latter will feel peace in his own heart, and be praised in the ages to come. i have often erred, yet the egyptians will weep for me, as one who knew their needs and considered their welfare like a father. a king who really knows his duties, finds it an easy and beautiful task to win the love of the people--an unthankful one to gain the applause of the great-almost an impossibility to content both. "do not forget,--i say it again,--that kings and priests exist for the people, and not the people for their kings and priests. honor religion for its own sake and as the most important means of securing the obedience of the governed to their governors; but at the same time show its promulgators that you look on them, not as receptacles, but as servants, of the deity. hold fast, as the law commands, by what is old; but never shut the gates of your kingdom against what is new, if better. bad men break at once with the old traditions; fools only care for what is new and fresh; the narrowminded and the selfish privileged class cling indiscriminately to all that is old, and pronounce progress to be a sin; but the wise endeavor to retain all that has approved itself in the past, to remove all that has become defective, and to adopt whatever is good, from whatever source it may have sprung. act thus, my son. the priests will try to keep you back--the greeks to urge you forward. choose one party or the other, but beware of indecision--of yielding to the one to-day, to the other to-morrow. between two stools a man falls to the ground. let the one party be your friends, the other your enemies; by trying to please both, you will have both opposed to you. human beings hate the man who shows kindness to their enemies. in the last few months, during which you have ruled independently, both parties have been offended by your miserable indecision. the man who runs backwards and forwards like a child, makes no progress, and is soon weary. i have till now--till i felt that death was near--always encouraged the greeks and opposed the priests. in the active business of life, the clever, brave greeks seemed to me especially serviceable; at death, i want men who can make me out a pass into the nether regions. the gods forgive me for not being able to resist words that sound so like a joke, even in my last hour! they created me and must take me as i am. i rubbed my hands for joy when i became king; with thee, my son, coming to the throne is a graver matter.--now call neithotep back; i have still something to say to you both." the king gave his hand to the high-priest as he entered, saving: "i leave you, neithotep, without ill-will, though my opinion that you have been a better priest than a servant to your king, remains unaltered. psamtik will probably prove a more obedient follower than i have been, but one thing i wish to impress earnestly on you both: do not dismiss the greek mercenaries until the war with the persians is over, and has ended we will hope--in victory for egypt. my former predictions are not worth anything now; when death draws near, we get depressed, and things begin to look a little black. without the auxiliary troops we shall be hopelessly lost, but with them victory is not impossible. be clever; show the ionians that they are fighting on the nile for the freedom of their own country--that cambyses, if victorious, will not be contented with egypt alone, while his defeat may bring freedom to their own enslaved countrymen in ionia. i know you agree with me, neithotep, for in your heart you mean well to egypt.--now read me the prayers. i feel exhausted; my end must be very near. if i could only forget that poor nitetis! had she the right to curse us? may the judges of the dead-may osiris--have mercy on our souls! sit down by me, ladice; lay thy hand on my burning forehead. and psamtik, in presence of these witnesses, swear to honor and respect thy step-mother, as if thou wert her own child. my poor wife! come and seek me soon before the throne of osiris. a widow and childless, what hast thou to do with this world? we brought up nitetis as our own daughter, and yet we are so heavily punished for her sake. but her curse rests on us--and only on us;--not on thee, psamtik, nor on thy children. bring my grandson. was that a tear? perhaps; well, the little things to which one has accustomed one's self are generally the hardest to give up." ...................... rhodopis entertained a fresh guest that evening; kallias, the son of phoenippus, the same who first appeared in our tale as the bearer of news from the olympic games. the lively, cheerful athenian had just come back from his native country, and, as an old and tried friend, was not only received by rhodopis, but made acquainted with the secret of sappho's marriage. knakias, her old slave, had, it is true, taken in the flag which was the sign of reception, two days ago; but he knew that kallias was always welcome to his mistress, and therefore admitted him just as readily as he refused every one else. the athenian had plenty to tell, and when rhodopis was called away on business, he took his favorite sappho into the garden, joking and teasing her gaily as they looked out for her lover's coming. but bartja did not come, and sappho began to be so anxious that kallias called old melitta, whose longing looks in the direction of naukratis were, if possible, more anxious even than those of her mistress, and told her to fetch a musical instrument which he had brought with him. it was a rather large lute, made of gold and ivory, and as he handed it to sappho, he said, with a smile: "the inventor of this glorious instrument, the divine anakreon, had it made expressly for me, at my own wish. he calls it a barbiton, and brings wonderful tones from its chords--tones that must echo on even into the land of shadows. i have told this poet, who offers his life as one great sacrifice to the muses, eros and dionysus, a great deal about you, and he made me promise to bring you this song, which he wrote on purpose for you, as a gift from himself. "now, what do you say to this song? but by hercules, child, how pale you are! have the verses affected you so much, or are you frightened at this likeness of your own longing heart? calm yourself, girl. who knows what may have happened to your lover?" "nothing has happened,--nothing," cried a gay, manly voice, and in a few seconds sappho was in the arms of him she loved. kallias looked on quietly, smiling at the wonderful beauty of these two young lovers. "but now," said the prince, after sappho had made him acquainted with kallias, "i must go at once to your grandmother. we dare not wait four days for our wedding. it must be to-day! there is danger in every hour of delay. is theopompus here?" "i think he must be," said sappho. "i know of nothing else, that could keep my grandmother so long in the house. but tell me, what is this about our marriage? it seems to me . . ." "let us go in first, love. i fancy a thunder-storm must be coming on. the sky is so dark, and it's so intolerably sultry." "as you like, only make haste, unless you mean me to die of impatience. there is not the slightest reason to be afraid of a storm. since i was a child there has not been either lightning or thunder in egypt at this time of year." "then you will see something new to-day," said kallias, laughing; for a large drop of rain has just fallen on my bald head, "the nile-swallows were flying close to the water as i came here, and you see there is a cloud coming over the moon already. come in quickly, or you will get wet. ho, slave, see that a black lamb is offered to the gods of the lower world." they found theopompus sitting in rhodopis' own apartment, as sappho had supposed. he had finished telling her the story of zopyrus' arrest, and of the journey which bartja and his friends had taken on his behalf. their anxiety on the matter was beginning to be so serious, that bartja's unexpected appearance was a great relief. his words flew as he repeated the events of the last few hours, and begged theopompus to look out at once for a ship in sailing order, to convey himself and his friends from egypt. "that suits famously," exclaimed kallias. "my own trireme brought me from naukratis to-day; it is lying now, fully equipped for sea, in the port, and is quite at your service. i have only to send orders to the steersman to keep the crew together and everything in sailing order.--you are under no obligations to me; on the contrary it is i who have to thank you for the honor you will confer on me. ho, knakias!--tell my slave philomelus, he's waiting in the hall,--to take a boat to the port, and order my steersman nausarchus to keep the ship in readiness for starting. give him this seal; it empowers him to do all that is necessary." "and my slaves?" said bartja. "knakias can tell my old steward to take them to kallias' ship," answered theopompus. "and when they see this," said bartja, giving the old servant his ring, "they will obey without a question." knakias went away with many a deep obeisance, and the prince went on: "now, my mother, i have a great petition to ask of you." "i guess what it is," said rhodopis, with a smile. "you wish your marriage to be hastened, and i see that i dare not oppose your wish." "if i'm not mistaken," said kallias, "we have a remarkable case here. two people are in great peril, and find that very peril a matter of rejoicing." "perhaps you are right there," said bartja, pressing sappho's hand unperceived. and then, turning to rhodopis again, he begged her to delay no longer in trusting her dearest treasure to his care,--a treasure whose worth he knew so well. rhodopis rose, she laid her right hand on sappho's head and her left on bartja's, and said: "there is a myth which tells of a blue lake in the land of roses; its waves are sometimes calm and gentle, but at others they rise into a stormy flood; the taste of its waters is partly sweet as honey, partly bitter as gall. ye will learn the meaning of this legend in the marriage-land of roses. ye will pass calm and stormy-sweet and bitter hours there. so long as thou wert a child, sappho, thy life passed on like a cloudless spring morning, but when thou becam'st a maiden, and hadst learnt to love, thine heart was opened to admit pain; and during the long months of separation pain was a frequent guest there. this guest will seek admission as long as life lasts. bartja, it will be your duty to keep this intruder away from sappho, as far as it lies in your power. i know the world. i could perceive,--even before croesus told me of your generous nature,--that you were worthy of my sappho. this justified me in allowing you to eat the quince with her; this induces me now to entrust to you, without fear, what i have always looked upon as a sacred pledge committed to my keeping. look upon her too only as a loan. nothing is more dangerous to love, than a comfortable assurance of exclusive possession--i have been blamed for allowing such an inexperienced child to go forth into your distant country, where custom is so unfavorable to women; but i know what love is;--i know that a girl who loves, knows no home but the heart of her husband;--the woman whose heart has been touched by eros no misfortune but that of separation from him whom she has chosen. and besides, i would ask you, kallias and theopompus, is the position of your own wives so superior to that of the persian women? are not the women of ionia and attica forced to pass their lives in their own apartments, thankful if they are allowed to cross the street accompanied by suspicious and distrustful slaves? as to the custom which prevails in persia of taking many wives, i have no fear either for bartja or sappho. he will be more faithful to his wife than are many greeks, for he will find in her what you are obliged to seek, on the one hand in marriage, on the other in the houses of the cultivated hetaere:--in the former, housewives and mothers, in the latter, animated and enlivening intellectual society. take her, my son. i give her to you as an old warrior gives his sword, his best possession, to his stalwart son:--he gives it gladly and with confidence. whithersoever she may go she will always remain a greek, and it comforts me to think that in her new home she will bring honor to the greek name and friends to our nation, child, i thank thee for those tears. i can command my own, but fate has made me pay an immeasurable price for the power of doing so. the gods have heard your oath, my noble bartja. never forget it, but take her as your own, your friend, your wife. take her away as soon as your friends return; it is not the will of the gods that the hymenaeus should be sung at sappho's nuptial rites." as she said these words she laid sappho's hand in bartja's, embraced her with passionate tenderness, and breathed a light kiss on the forehead of the young persian. then turning to her greek friends, who stood by, much affected: "that was a quiet nuptial ceremony," she said; "no songs, no torch-light! may their union be so much the happier. melitta, bring the bride's marriage-ornaments, the bracelets and necklaces which lie in the bronze casket on my dressing-table, that our darling may give her hand to her lord attired as beseems a future princess." "yes, and do not linger on the way," cried kallias, whose old cheerfulness had now returned. "neither can we allow the niece of the greatest of hymen's poets to be married without the sound of song and music. the young husband's house is, to be sure, too far off for our purpose, so we will suppose that the andronitis is his dwelling. [the hymenaeus was the wedding-song, so called because of its refrain "hymen o! hymenae' o!" the god of marriage, hymen, took his origin and name from the hymn, was afterwards decked out richly with myths, and finally, according to catullus, received a seat on mount helikon with the muses.] [a greek bride was beautifully adorned for her marriage, and her bridesmaids received holiday garments. homer, odyss. vi. 27. besides which, after the bath, which both bride and bridegroom were obliged to take, she was anointed with sweet-smelling essences. thucyd. ii. 15. xenoph. symp. ii. 3.] "we will conduct the maiden thither by the centre door, and there we will enjoy a merry wedding-feast by the family hearth. here, slavegirls, come and form yourselves into two choruses. half of your number take the part of the youths; the other half that of the maidens, and sing us sappho's hymenaeus. i will be the torch-bearer; that dignity is mine by right. you must know, bartja, that my family has an hereditary right to carry the torches at the eleusinian mysteries and we are therefore called daduchi or torch-bearers. ho, slave! see that the door of the andronitis is hung with flowers, and tell your comrades to meet us with a shower of sweetmeats as we enter. that's right, melitta; why, how did you manage to get those lovely violet and myrtle marriage-crowns made so quickly? the rain is streaming through the opening above. you see, hymen has persuaded zeus to help him; so that not a single marriage-rite shall be omitted. you could not take the bath, which ancient custom prescribes for the bride and bridegroom on the morning of their weddingday, so you have only to stand here a moment and take the rain of zeus as an equivalent for the waters of the sacred spring. now, girls, begin your song. let the maidens bewail the rosy days of childhood, and the youths praise the lot of those who marry young." five well-practised treble voices now began to sing the chorus of virgins in a sad and plaintive tone. suddenly the song was hushed, for a flash of lightning had shone down through the aperture beneath which kallias had stationed the bride and bridegroom, followed by a loud peal of thunder. "see!" cried the daduchus, raising his hand to heaven, "zeus himself has taken the nuptial-torch, and sings the hymenaeus for his favorites." at dawn the next morning, sappho and bartja left the house and went into the garden. after the violent storm which had raged all night, the garden was looking as fresh and cheerful in the morning light as the faces of the newly-married pair. bartja's anxiety for his friends, whom he had almost forgotten in the excitement of his marriage, had roused them so early. the garden had been laid out on an artificial hill, which overlooked the inundated plain. blue and white lotus-blossoms floated on the smooth surface of the water, and vast numbers of water-birds hovered along the shores or over the flood. flocks of white, herons appeared on the banks, their plumage gleaming like glaciers on distant mountain peaks; a solitary eagle circled upward on its broad pinions through the pure morning air, turtle-doves nestled in the tops of the palm-trees; pelicans and ducks fluttered screaming away, whenever a gay sail appeared. the air had been cooled by the storm, a fresh north-wind was blowing, and, notwithstanding the early hour, there were a number of boats sailing over the deluged fields before the breeze. the songs of the rowers, the plashing strokes of their oars and the cries of the birds, all contributed to enliven the watery landscape of the nile valley, which, though varied in color, was somewhat monotonous. bartja and sappho stood leaning on each other by the low wall which ran round rhodopis' garden, exchanging tender words and watching the scene below, till at last bartja's quick eye caught sight of a boat making straight for the house and coming on fast by the help of the breeze and powerful rowers. a few minutes later the boat put in to shore and zopyrus with his deliverers stood before them. darius's plan had succeeded perfectly, thanks to the storm, which, by its violence and the unusual time of its appearance, had scared the egyptians; but still there was no time to be lost, as it might reasonably be supposed that the men of sais would pursue their fugitive with all the means at their command. sappho, therefore, had to take a short farewell of her grandmother, all the more tender, however, for its shortness,--and then, led by rartja and followed by old melitta, who was to accompany her to persia, she went on board syloson's boat. after an hour's sail they reached a beautifullybuilt and fast-sailing vessel, the hygieia, which belonged to kallias. he was waiting for them on board his trireme. the leave-taking between himself and his young friends was especially affectionate. bartja hung a heavy and costly gold chain round the neck of the old man in token of his gratitude, while syloson, in remembrance of the dangers they had shared together, threw his purple cloak over darius' shoulders. it was a master-specimen of tynan dye, and had taken the latter's fancy. darius accepted the gift with pleasure, and said, as he took leave: "you must never forget that i am indebted to you, my greek friend, and as soon as possible give me an opportunity of doing you service in return." "you ought to come to me first, though," exclaimed zopyrus, embracing his deliverer. "i am perfectly ready to share my last gold piece with you; or what is more, if it would do you a service, to sit a whole week in that infernal hole from which you saved me. ah! they're weighing anchor. farewell, you brave greek. remember me to the flower-sisters, especially to the pretty, little stephanion, and tell her her long-legged lover won't be able to plague her again for some time to come at least. and then, one more thing; take this purse of gold for the wife and children of that impertinent fellow, whom i struck too hard in the heat of the fray." the anchors fell rattling on to the deck, the wind filled the sails, the trieraules--[flute-player to a trireme]--took his flute and set the measure of the monotonous keleusma or rowing-song, which echoed again from the hold of the vessel. the beak of the ship bearing the statue of hygieia, carved in wood, began to move. bartja and sappho stood at the helm and gazed towards naukratis, until the shores of the nile vanished and the green waves of the hellenic sea splashed their foam over the deck of the trireme. chapter xii. our young bride and bridegroom had not travelled farther than ephesus, when the news reached them that amasis was dead. from ephesus they went to babylon, and thence to pasargadae, which kassandane, atossa and croesus had made their temporary residence. kassandane was to accompany the army to egypt, and wished, now that nebenchari had restored her sight, to see the monument which had lately been built to her great husband's memory after croesus' design, before leaving for so long a journey. she rejoiced in finding it worthy of the great cyrus, and spent hours every day in the beautiful gardens which had been laid out round the mausoleum. it consisted of a gigantic sarcophagus made of solid marble blocks, and resting like a house on a substructure composed of six high marble steps. the interior was fitted up like a room, and contained, beside the golden coffin in which were preserved such few remains of cyrus as had been spared by the dogs, vultures, and elements, a silver bed and a table of the same metal, on which were golden drinking-cups and numerous garments ornamented with the rarest and most costly jewels. the building was forty feet high. the shady paradises--[persian pleasure-gardens]--and colonnades by which it was surrounded had been planned by croesus, and in the midst of the sacred grove was a dwellinghouse for the magi appointed to watch over the tomb. the palace of cyrus could be seen in the distance--a palace in which he had appointed that the future kings of persia should pass at least some months of every year. it was a splendid building in the style of a fortress, and so inaccessibly placed that it had been fixed on as the royal treasure-house. here, in the fresh mountain air of a place dedicated to the memory of the husband she had loved so much, kassandane felt well and at peace; she was glad too to see that atossa was recovering the old cheerfulness, which she had so sadly lost since the death of nitetis and the departure of darius. sappho soon became the friend of her new mother and sister, and all three felt very loath to leave the lovely pasargadm. darius and zopyrus had remained with the army which was assembling in the plains of the euphrates, and bartja too had to return thither before the march began. cambyses went out to meet his family on their return; he was much impressed with sappho's great beauty, but she confessed to her husband that his brother only inspired her with fear. the king had altered very much in the last few months. his formerly pale and almost noble features were reddened and disfigured by the quantities of wine he was in the habit of drinking. in his dark eyes there was the old fire still, but dimmed and polluted. his hair and beard, formerly so luxuriant, and black as the raven's wing, hung down grey and disordered over his face and chin, and the proud smile which used so to improve his features had given way to an expression of contemptuous annoyance and harsh severity. sometimes he laughed,--loudly, immoderately and coarsely; but this was only when intoxicated, a condition which had long ceased to be unusual with him. he continued to retain an aversion to his wives; so much so that the royal harem was to be left behind in susa, though all his court took their favorite wives and concubines with them on the campaign. still no one could complain that the king was ever guilty of injustice; indeed he insisted more eagerly now than before on the rigid execution of the law; and wherever he detected an abuse his punishments were cruel and inexorable. hearing that a judge, named sisamnes, had been bribed to pronounce an unjust sentence, he condemned the wretched man to be flayed, ordered the seat of justice to be covered with his skin, appointed the son to the father's vacant place and compelled him to occupy this fearful seat.--[herodot. v. 25.]--cambyses was untiring as commander of the forces, and superintended the drilling of the troops assembled near babylon with the greatest rigor and circumspection. the hosts were to march after the festival of the new year, which cambyses celebrated this time with immense expense and profusion. the ceremony over, he betook himself to the army. bartja was there. he came up to his brother, beaming with joy, kissed the hem of his robe, and told him in a tone of triumph that he hoped to become a father. the king trembled as he heard the words, vouchsafed his brother no answer, drank himself into unconsciousness that evening, and the next morning called the soothsayers, magi and chaldaeans together, in order to submit a question to them. "shall i be committing a sin against the gods, if i take my sister to wife and thus verify the promise of the dream, which ye formerly interpreted to mean that atossa should bear a future king to this realm?" the magi consulted a short time together. then oropastes cast himself at the king's feet and said, "we do not believe, o king, that this marriage would be a sin against the gods; inasmuch as, first: it is a custom among the persians to marry with their own kin; and secondly, though it be not written in the law that the pure man may marry his sister, it is written that the king may do what seemeth good in his own eyes. that which pleaseth thee is therefore always lawful." cambyses sent the magi away with rich gifts, gave oropastes full powers as regent of the kingdom in his absence, and soon after told his horrified mother that, as soon as the conquest of egypt and the punishment of the son of amasis should have been achieved, he intended to marry his sister atossa. at length the immense host, numbering more than 800,000 fighting men, departed in separate divisions, and reached the syrian desert in two months. here they were met by the arabian tribes whom phanes had propitiated--the amalekites and geshurites--bringing camels and horses laden with water for the host. at accho, in the land of the canaanites, the fleets of the syrians, phoenicians and ionians belonging to persia, and the auxiliary ships from cyprus and samos, won by the efforts of phanes, were assembled. the case of the samian fleet was a remarkable one. polykrates saw in cambyses' proposal a favorable opportunity of getting rid of all the citizens who were discontented with his government, manned forty triremes with eight thousand malcontent samians, and sent them to the persians with the request that not one might be allowed to return home.--[herod. iii. 44.] as soon as phanes heard this he warned the doomed men, who at once, instead of sailing to join the persian forces, returned to samos and attempted to overthrow polykrates. they were defeated, however, on land, and escaped to sparta to ask help against the tyrant. a full month before the time of the inundation, the persian and egyptian armies were standing face to face near pelusium on the north-east coast of the delta. phanes' arrangements had proved excellent. the arabian tribes had kept faith so well that the journey through the desert, which would usually have cost thousands of lives, had been attended with very little loss, and the time of year had been so well chosen that the persian troops reached egypt by dry roads and without inconvenience. the king met his greek friend with every mark of distinction, and returned a friendly nod when phanes said: "i hear that you have been less cheerful than usual since the death of your beautiful bride. a woman's grief passes in stormy and violent complaint, but the sterner character of a man cannot so soon be comforted. i know what you feel, for i have lost my dearest too. let us both praise the gods for granting us the best remedy for our grief--war and revenge." phanes accompanied the king to an inspection of the troops and to the evening revel. it was marvellous to see the influence he exercised over this fierce spirit, and how calm--nay even cheerful--cambyses became, when the athenian was near. the egyptian army was by no means contemptible, even when compared with the immense persian hosts. its position was covered on the right by the walls of pelusium, a frontier fortress designed by the egyptian kings as a defence against incursions from the east. the persians were assured by deserters that the egyptian army numbered altogether nearly six hundred thousand men. beside a great number of chariots of war, thirty thousand karian and ionian mercenaries, and the corps of the mazai, two hundred and fifty thousand kalasirians, one hundred and sixty thousand hermotybians, twenty thousand horsemen, and auxiliary troops, amounting to more than fifty thousand, were assembled under psamtik's banner; amongst these last the libyan maschawascha were remarkable for their military deeds, and the ethiopians for their numerical superiority. the infantry were divided into regiments and companies, under different standards, and variously equipped. [in these and the descriptions immediately following, we have drawn our information, either from the drawings made from egyptian monuments in champollion, wilkinson, rosellini and lepsius, or from the monuments themselves. there is a dagger in the berlin museum, the blade of which is of bronze, the hilt of ivory and the sheath of leather. large swords are only to be seen in the hands of the foreign auxiliaries, but the native egyptians are armed with small ones, like daggers. the largest one of which we have any knowledge is in the possession of herr e. brugsch at cairo. it is more than two feet long.] the heavy-armed soldiers carried large shields, lances, and daggers; the swordsmen and those who fought with battle-axes had smaller shields and light clubs; beside these, there were slingers, but the main body of the army was composed of archers, whose bows unbent were nearly the height of a man. the only clothing of the horse-soldiers was the apron, and their weapon a light club in the form of a mace or battle-axe. those warriors, on the contrary, who fought in chariots belonged to the highest rank of the military caste, spent large sums on the decoration of their twowheeled chariots and the harness of their magnificent horses, and went to battle in their most costly ornaments. they were armed with bows and lances, and a charioteer stood beside each, so that their undivided attention could be bestowed upon the battle. the persian foot was not much more numerous than the egyptian, but they had six times the number of horse-soldiers. as soon as the armies stood face to face, cambyses caused the great pelusian plain to be cleared of trees and brushwood, and had the sandhills removed which were to be found here and there, in order to give his cavalry and scythe-chariots a fair field of action. phanes' knowledge of the country was of great use. he had drawn up a plan of action with great military skill, and succeeded in gaining not only cambyses' approval, but that of the old general megabyzus and the best tacticians among the achaemenidae. his local knowledge was especially valuable on account of the marshes which intersected the pelusian plain, and might, unless carefully avoided, have proved fatal to the persian enterprise. at the close of the council of war phanes begged to be heard once more: "now, at length," he said, "i am at liberty to satisfy your curiosity in reference to the closed waggons full of animals, which i have had transported hither. they contain five thousand cats! yes, you may laugh, but i tell you these creatures will be more serviceable to us than a hundred thousand of our best soldiers. many of you are aware that the egyptians have a superstition which leads them rather to die than kill a cat, i, myself, nearly paid for such a murder once with my life. remembering this, i have been making a diligent search for cats during my late journey; in cyprus, where there are splendid specimens, in samos and in crete. all i could get i ordered to be caught, and now propose that they be distributed among those troops who will be opposed to the native egyptian soldiers. every man must be told to fasten one firmly to his shield and hold it out as he advances towards the enemy. i will wager that there's not one real egyptian, who would not rather fly from the battle-field than take aim at one of these sacred animals." this speech was met by a loud burst of laughter; on being discussed, however, it was approved of, and ordered to be carried out at once. the ingenious greek was honored by receiving the king's hand to kiss, his expenses were reimbursed by a magnificent present, and he was urged to take a daughter of some noble persian family in marriage. [themistocles too, on coming to the persian court, received a high born persian wife in marriage. diod. xi. 57.] the king concluded by inviting him to supper, but this the athenian declined, on the plea that he must review the ionian troops, with whom he was as yet but little acquainted, and withdrew. at the door of his tent he found his slaves disputing with a ragged, dirty and unshaven old man, who insisted on speaking with their master. fancying he must be a beggar, phanes threw him a piece of gold; the old man did not even stoop to pick it up, but, holding the athenian fast by his cloak, cried, "i am aristomachus the spartan!" cruelly as he was altered, phanes recognized his old friend at once, ordered his feet to be washed and his head anointed, gave him wine and meat to revive his strength, took his rags off and laid a new chiton over his emaciated, but still sinewy, frame. aristomachus received all in silence; and when the food and wine had given him strength to speak, began the following answer to phanes' eager questions. on the murder of phanes' son by psamtik, he had declared his intention of leaving egypt and inducing the troops under his command to do the same, unless his friend's little daughter were at once set free, and a satisfactory explanation given for the sudden disappearance of the boy. psamtik promised to consider the matter. two days later, as aristomachus was going up the nile by night to memphis, he was seized by egyptian soldiers, bound and thrown into the dark hold of a boat, which, after a voyage of many days and nights, cast anchor on a totally unknown shore. the prisoners were taken out of their dungeon and led across a desert under the burning sun, and past rocks of strange forms, until they reached a range of mountains with a colony of huts at its base. these huts were inhabited by human beings, who, with chains on their feet, were driven every morning into the shaft of a mine and there compelled to hew grains of gold out of the stony rock. many of these miserable men had passed forty years in this place, but most died soon, overcome by the hard work and the fearful extremes of heat and cold to which they were exposed on entering and leaving the mine. [diodorus (iii. 12.) describes the compulsory work in the gold mines with great minuteness. the convicts were either prisoners taken in war, or people whom despotism in its blind fury found it expedient to put out of the way. the mines lay in the plain of koptos, not far from the red sea. traces of them have been discovered in modern times. interesting inscriptions of the time of rameses the great, (14 centuries b. c.) referring to the gold-mines, have been found, one at radesich, the other at kubnn, and have been published and deciphered in europe.] "my companions," continued aristomachus, "were either condemned murderers to whom mercy had been granted, or men guilty of high treason whose tongues had been cut out, and others such as myself whom the king had reason to fear. three months i worked among this set, submitting to the strokes of the overseer, fainting under the fearful heat, and stiffening under the cold dews of night. i felt as if picked out for death and only kept alive by the hope of vengeance. it happened, however, by the mercy of the gods, that at the feast of pacht, our guards, as is the custom of the egyptians, drank so freely as to fall into a deep sleep, during which i and a young jew who had been deprived of his right hand for having used false weights in trade, managed to escape unperceived; zeus lacedaemonius and the great god whom this young man worshipped helped us in our need, and, though we often heard the voices of our pursuers, they never succeeded in capturing us. i had taken a bow from one of our guards; with this we obtained food, and when no game was to be found we lived on roots, fruits and birds' eggs. the sun and stars showed us our road. we knew that the gold-mines were not far from the red sea and lay to the south of memphis. it was not long before we reached the coast; and then, pressing onwards in a northerly direction, we fell in with some friendly mariners, who took care of us until we were taken up by an arabian boat. the young jew understood the language spoken by the crew, and in their care we came to eziongeber in the land of edom. there we heard that cambyses was coming with an immense army against egypt, and travelled as far as harma under the protection of an amalekite caravan bringing water to the persian army. from thence i went on to pelusium in the company of some stragglers from the asiatic army, who now and then allowed me a seat on their horses, and here i heard that you had accepted a high command in cambyses' army. i have kept my vow, i have been true to my nation in egypt; now it is your turn to help old aristomachus in gaining the only thing he still cares for--revenge on his persecutors." "and that you shall have!" cried phanes, grasping the old man's hand. "you shall have the command of the heavy-armed milesian troops, and liberty to commit what carnage you like among the ranks of our enemies. this, however, is only paying half the debt i owe you. praised be the gods, who have put it in my power to make you happy by one single sentence. know then, aristomachus, that, only a few days after your disappearance, a ship arrived in the harbor of naukratis from sparta. it was guided by your own noble son and expressly sent by the ephori in your honor--to bring the father of two olympic victors back to his native land." the old man's limbs trembled visibly at these words, his eyes filled with tears and he murmured a prayer. then smiting his forehead, he cried in a voice trembling with feeling: "now it is fulfilled! now it has become a fact! if i doubted the words of thy priestess, o phoebus apollo! pardon my sin! what was the promise of the oracle? "if once the warrior hosts from the snow-topped mountains descending, come to the fields of the stream watering richly the plain, then shall the lingering boat to the beckoning meadows convey thee, which to the wandering foot peace and a home can afford. when those warriors come, from the snow-topped mountains descending, then will the powerful five grant thee what long they refused." "the promise of the god is fulfilled. now i may return home, and i will; but first i raise my hands to dice, the unchanging goddess of justice, and implore her not to deny me the pleasure of revenge." "the day of vengeance will dawn to-morrow," said phanes, joining in the old man's prayer. "tomorrow i shall slaughter the victims for the dead-for my son--and will take no rest until cambyses has pierced the heart of egypt with the arrows which i have cut for him. come, my friend, let me take you to the king. one man like you can put a whole troop of egyptians to flight." ....................... it was night. the persian soldiers, their position being unfortified, were in order of battle, ready to meet any unexpected attack. the footsoldiers stood leaning on their shields, the horsemen held their horses saddled and bridled near the camp-fires. cambyses was riding through the ranks, encouraging his troops by words and looks. only one part of the army was not yet ranged in order of battle--the centre. it was composed of the persian body-guard, the apple-bearers, immortals, and the king's own relatives, who were always led into battle by the king in person. the ionian greeks too had gone to rest, at phanes' command. he wanted to keep his men fresh, and allowed them to sleep in their armor, while he kept watch. aristomachus was welcomed with shouts of joy by the greeks, and kindly by cambyses, who assigned him, at the head of one half the greek troops, a place to the left of the centre attack, while phanes, with the other half, had his place at the right. the king himself was to take the lead at the head of the ten thousand immortals, preceded by the blue, red and gold imperial banner and the standard of kawe. bartja was to lead the regiment of mounted guards numbering a thousand men, and that division of the cavalry which was entirely clothed in mail. croesus commanded a body of troops whose duty it was to guard the camp with its immense treasures, the wives of cambyses' nobles, and his own mother and sister. at last mithras appeared and shed his light upon the earth; the spirits of the night retired to their dens, and the magi stirred up the sacred fire which had been carried before the army the whole way from babylon, until it became a gigantic flame. they and the king united in feeding it with costly perfumes, cambyses offered the sacrifice, and, holding the while a golden bowl high in the air, besought the gods to grant him victory and glory. he then gave the password, "auramazda, the helper and guide," and placed himself at the head of his guards, who went into the battle with wreaths on their tiaras. the greeks offered their own sacrifices, and shouted with delight on hearing that the omens were auspicious. their war-cry was "hebe." meanwhile the egyptian priests had begun their day also with prayer and sacrifice, and had then placed their army in order of battle. psamtik, now king of egypt, led the centre. he was mounted on a golden chariot; the trappings of his horses were of gold and purple, and plumes of ostrich feathers nodded on their proud heads. he wore the double crown of upper and lower egypt, and the charioteer who stood at his left hand holding the reins and whip, was descended from one of the noblest egyptian families. the hellenic and karian mercenaries were to fight at the left of the centre, the horse at the extreme of each wing, and the egyptian and ethiopian foot were stationed, six ranks deep, on the right and left of the armed chariots, and greek mercenaries. psamtik drove through the ranks of his army, giving encouraging and friendly words to all the men. he drew up before the greek division, and addressed them thus: "heroes of cyprus and libya! your deeds in arms are well known to me, and i rejoice in the thought of sharing your glory today and crowning you with fresh laurels. ye have no need to fear, that in the day of victory i shall curtail your liberties. malicious tongues have whispered that this is all ye have to expect from me; but i tell you, that if we conquer, fresh favors will be shown to you and your descendants; i shall call you the supporters of my throne. ye are fighting to-day, not for me alone, but for the freedom of your own distant homes. it is easy to perceive that cambyses, once lord of egypt, will stretch out his rapacious hand over your beautiful hellas and its islands. i need only remind you, that they be between egypt and your asiatic brethren who are already groaning under the persian yoke. your acclamations prove that ye agree with me already, but i must ask for a still longer hearing. it is my duty to tell you who has sold, not only egypt, but his own country to the king of persia, in return for immense treasures. the man's name is phanes! you are angry and inclined to doubt? i swear to you, that this very phanes has accepted cambyses' gold and promised not only to be his guide to egypt, but to open the gates of your own greek cities to him. he knows the country and the people, and can be bribed to every perfidy. look at him! there he is, walking by the side of the king. see how he bows before him! i thought i had heard once, that the greeks only prostrated themselves before their gods. but of course, when a man sells his country, he ceases to be its citizen. am i not right? ye scorn to call so base a creature by the name of countryman? yes? then i will deliver the wretch's daughter into your hands. do what ye will with the child of such a villain. crown her with wreaths of roses, fall down before her, if it please you, but do not forget that she belongs to a man who has disgraced the name of hellene, and has betrayed his countrymen and country!" as he finished speaking the men raised a wild cry of rage and took possession of the trembling child. a soldier held her up, so that her father--the troops not being more than a bow-shot apart--could see all that happened. at the same moment an egyptian, who afterwards earned celebrity through the loudness of his voice, cried: "look here, athenian! see how treachery and corruption are rewarded in this country!" a bowl of wine stood near, provided by the king, from which the soldiers had just been drinking themselves into intoxication. a karian seized it, plunged his sword into the innocent child's breast, and let the blood flow into the bowl; filled a goblet with the awful mixture, and drained it, as if drinking to the health of the wretched father. phanes stood watching the scene, as if struck into a statue of cold stone. the rest of the soldiers then fell upon the bowl like madmen, and wild beasts could not have lapped up the foul drink with greater eagerness.-[herodotus tells this fearful tale (iii. ii.)] in the same moment psamtik triumphantly shot off his first arrow into the persian ranks. the mercenaries flung the child's dead body on to the ground; drunk with her blood, they raised their battle-song, and rushed into the strife far ahead of their egyptian comrades. but now the persian ranks began to move. phanes, furious with pain and rage, led on his heavy-armed troops, indignant too at the brutal barbarity of their countrymen, and dashed into the ranks of those very soldiers, whose love he had tried to deserve during ten years of faithful leadership. at noon, fortune seemed to be favoring the egyptians; but at sunset the persians had the advantage, and when the full-moon rose, the egyptians were flying wildly from the battle-field, perishing in the marshes and in the arm of the nile which flowed behind their position, or being cut to pieces by the swords of their enemies. twenty thousand persians and fifty thousand egyptians lay dead on the blood-stained sea-sand. the wounded, drowned, and prisoners could scarcely be numbered. [herod. iii. 12. ktesias, persica 9. in ancient history the loss of the conquered is always far greater than that of the conquerors. to a certain extent this holds good in the present day, but the proportion is decidedly not so unfavorable for the vanquished.] psamtik had been one of the last to fly. he was well mounted, and, with a few thousand faithful followers, reached the opposite bank of the nile and made for memphis, the well-fortified city of the pyramids. of the greek mercenaries very few survived, so furious had been phanes' revenge, and so well had he been supported by his ionians. ten thousand karians were taken captive and the murderer of his little child was killed by phanes' own hand. aristomachus too, in spite of his wooden leg, had performed miracles of bravery; but, notwithstanding all their efforts, neither he, nor any of his confederates in revenge, had succeeded in taking psamtik prisoner. when the battle was over, the persians returned in triumph to their tents, to be warmly welcomed by croesus and the warriors and priests who had remained behind, and to celebrate their victory by prayers and sacrifices. the next morning cambyses assembled his generals and rewarded them with different tokens of distinction, such as costly robes, gold chains, rings, swords, and stars formed of precious stones. gold and silver coins were distributed among the common soldiers. the principal attack of the egyptians had been directed against the centre of the persian army, where cambyses commanded in person; and with such effect that the guards had already begun to give way. at that moment bartja, arriving with his troop of horsemen, had put fresh courage into the wavering, had fought like a lion himself, and by his bravery and promptitude decided the day in favor of the persians. the troops were exultant in their joy: they shouted his praises, as "the conqueror of pelusium" and the "best of the achaemenidae." their cries reached the king's ears and made him very angry. he knew he had been fighting at the risk of life, with real courage and the strength of a giant, and yet the day would have been lost if this boy had not presented him with the victory. the brother who had embittered his days of happy love, was now to rob him of half his military glory. cambyses felt that he hated bartja, and his fist clenched involuntarily as he saw the young hero looking so happy in the consciousness of his own wellearned success. phanes had been wounded and went to his tent; aristomachus lay near him, dying. "the oracle has deceived me, after all," he murmured. "i shall die without seeing my country again." "the oracle spoke the truth," answered phanes. "were not the last words of the pythia?" 'then shall the lingering boat to the beckoning meadows convey thee, which to the wandering foot peace and a home will afford?' "can you misunderstand their meaning? they speak of charon's lingering boat, which will convey you to your last home, to the one great restingplace for all wanderers--the kingdom of hades." "yes, my friend, you are right there. i am going to hades." "and the five have granted you, before death, what they so long refused, --the return to lacedaemon. you ought to be thankful to the gods for granting you such sons and such vengeance on your enemies. when my wound is healed, i shall go to greece and tell your son that his father died a glorious death, and was carried to the grave on his shield, as beseems a hero." "yes, do so, and give him my shield as a remembrance of his old father. there is no need to exhort him to virtue." "when psamtik is in our power, shall i tell him what share you had in his overthrow?" "no; he saw me before he took to flight, and at the unexpected vision his bow fell from his hand. this was taken by his friends as a signal for flight, and they turned their horses from the battle." "the gods ordain, that bad men shall be ruined by their own deeds. psamtik lost courage, for he must have believed that the very spirits of the lower world were fighting against him." "we mortals gave him quite enough to do. the persians fought well. but the battle would have been lost without the guards and our troops." "without doubt." "i thank thee, o zeus lacedaemonius." "you are praying?" "i am praising the gods for allowing me to die at ease as to my country. these heterogeneous masses can never be dangerous to greece. ho, physician, when am i likely to die?" the milesian physician, who had accompanied the greek troops to egypt, pointed to the arrow-head sticking fast in his breast, and said with a sad smile, "you have only a few hours more to live. if i were to draw the arrow from your wound, you would die at once." the spartan thanked him, said farewell to phanes, sent a greeting to rhodopis, and then, before they could prevent him, drew the arrow from his wound with an unflinching hand. a few moments later aristomachus was dead. the same day a persian embassy set out for memphis on board one of the lesbian vessels. it was commissioned to demand from psamtik the surrender of his own person and of the city at discretion. cambyses followed, having first sent off a division of his army under megabyzus to invest sais. at heliopolis he was met by deputations from the greek inhabitants of naukratis and the libyans, praying for peace and his protection, and bringing a golden wreath and other rich presents. cambyses received them graciously and assured them of his friendship; but repulsed the messengers from cyrene and barka indignantly, and flung, with his own hand, their tribute of five hundred silver mince among his soldiers, disdaining to accept so contemptible an offering. in heliopolis he also heard that, at the approach of his embassy, the inhabitants of memphis had flocked to the shore, bored a hole in the bottom of the ship, torn his messengers in pieces without distinction, as wild beasts would tear raw flesh, and dragged them into the fortress. on hearing this he cried angrily: "i swear, by mithras, that these murdered men shall be paid for; ten lives for one." two days later and cambyses with his army stood before the gates of memphis. the siege was short, as the garrison was far too small for the city, and the citizens were discouraged by the fearful defeat at pelusium. king psamtik himself came out to cambyses, accompanied by his principal nobles, in rent garments, and with every token of mourning. cambyses received him coldly and silently, ordering him and his followers to be guarded and removed. he treated ladice, the widow of amasis, who appeared at the same time as her step-son, with consideration, and, at the intercession of phanes, to whom she had always shown favor, allowed her to return to her native town of cyrene under safe conduct. she remained there until the fall of her nephew, arcesilaus iii. and the flight of her sister pheretime, when she betook herself to anthylla, the town in egypt which belonged to her, and where she passed a quiet, solitary existence, dying at a great age. cambyses not only scorned to revenge the imposture which had been practised on him on a woman, but, as a persian, had far too much respect for a mother, and especially for the mother of a king, to injure ladice in any way. while he was engaged in the siege of sais, psamtik passed his imprisonment in the palace of the pharaohs, treated in every respect as a king, but strictly guarded. among those members of the upper class who had incited the people to resistance, neithotep, the high-priest of neith, had taken the foremost place. he was therefore sent to memphis and put in close confinement, with one hundred of his unhappy confederates. the larger number of the pharaoh's court, on the other hand, did homage voluntarily to cambyses at sais, entitled him ramestu, "child of the sun," and suggested that he should cause himself to be crowned king of upper and lower egypt, with all the necessary formalities, and admitted into the priestly caste according to ancient custom. by the advice of croesus and phanes, cambyses gave in to these proposals, though much against his own will: he went so far, indeed, as to offer sacrifice in the temple of neith, and allowed the newly-created high-priest of the goddess to give him a superficial insight into the nature of the mysteries. some of the courtiers he retained near himself, and promoted different administrative functionaries to high posts; the commander of amasis' nile fleet succeeded so well in gaining the king's favor, as to be appointed one of those who ate at the royal table. [on a statue in the gregorian museum in the vatican, there is an inscription giving an account of cambyses' sojourn at sais, which agrees with the facts related in our text. he was lenient to his conquered subjects, and, probably in order to secure his position as the lawful pharaoh, yielded to the wishes of the priests, was even initiated into the mysteries and did much for the temple of neith. his adoption of the name ramestu is also confirmed by this statue. e. de rough, memoire sur la statuette naophore du musee gregorian, au vatican. revue archeol. 1851.] on leaving sais, cambyses placed megabyzus in command of the city; but scarcely had the king quitted their walls than the smothered rage of the people broke forth; they murdered the persian sentinels, poisoned the wells, and set the stables of the cavalry on fire. megabyzus at once applied to the king, representing that such hostile acts, if not repressed by fear, might soon be followed by open rebellion. "the two thousand noble youths from memphis whom you have destined to death as an indemnification for our murdered ambassadors," said he, "ought to be executed at once; and it would do no harm if the son of psamtik were added to the number, as he can some day become a rallying centre for the rebels. i hear that the daughters of the dethroned king and of the highpriest neithotep have to carry water for the baths of the noble phanes." the athenian answered with a smile: "cambyses has allowed me to employ these aristocratic female attendants, my lord, at my own request." "but has forbidden you to touch the life of one member of the royal house," added cambyses. "none but a king has the right to punish kings." phanes bowed. the king turned to megabyzus and ordered him to have the prisoners executed the very next day, as an example. he would decide the fate of the young prince later; but at all events he was to be taken to the place of execution with the rest. "we must show them," he concluded, "that we know how to meet all their hostile manifestations with sufficient rigor." croesus ventured to plead for the innocent boy. "calm yourself, old friend," said cambyses with a smile; "the child is not dead yet, and perhaps will be as well off with us as your own son, who fought so well at pelusium. i confess i should like to know, whether psamtik bears his fate as calmly and bravely as you did twenty-five years ago." "that we can easily discover, by putting him on trial," said phanes. "let him be brought into the palace-court to-morrow, and let the captives and the condemned be led past him. then we shall see whether he is a man or a coward." "be it so," answered cambyses. "i will conceal myself and watch him unobserved. you, phanes, will accompany me, to tell me the name and rank of each of the captives." the next morning phanes accompanied the king on to a balcony which ran round the great court of the palace--the court we have already described as being planted with trees. the listeners were hidden by a grove of flowering shrubs, but they could see every movement that took place, and hear every word that was spoken beneath them. they saw psamtik, surrounded by a few of his former companions. he was leaning against a palm-tree, his eyes fixed gloomily on the ground, as his daughters entered the court. the daughter of neithotep was with them, and some more young girls, all dressed as slaves; they were carrying pitchers of water. at sight of the king, they uttered such a loud cry of anguish as to wake him from his reverie. he looked up, recognized the miserable girls, and bowed his head lower than before; but only for a moment. drawing himself up quickly, he asked his eldest daughter for whom she was carrying water. on hearing that she was forced to do the work of a slave for phanes, he turned deadly pale, nodded his head, and cried to the girls, "go on." a few minutes later the captives were led into the court, with ropes round their necks, and bridles in their mouths. [this statement of herodotus (iii. 14.) is confirmed by the monuments, on which we often see representations of captives being led along with ropes round their necks. what follows is taken entirely from the same passage in herodotus.] at the head of the train was the little prince necho. he stretched his hands out to his father, begging him to punish the bad foreigners who wanted to kill him. at this sight the egyptians wept in their exceeding great misery; but psamtik's eyes were dry. he bowed his tearless face nearly to the earth, and waved his child a last farewell. after a short interval, the captives taken in sais entered. among them was neithotep, the once powerful high-priest, clothed in rags and moving with difficulty by the help of a staff. at the entrance-gate he raised his eyes and caught sight of his former pupil darius. reckless of all the spectators around him, he went straight up to the young man, poured out the story of his need, besought his help, and ended by begging an alms. darius complied at once, and by so doing, induced others of the achaemenidae, who were standing by, to hail the old man jokingly and throw him little pieces of money, which he picked up laboriously and thankfully from the ground. at this sight psamtik wept aloud, and smote upon his forehead, calling on the name of his friend in a voice full of woe. cambyses was so astonished at this, that he came forward to the balustrade of the veranda, and pushing the flowers aside, exclaimed: "explain thyself, thou strange man; the misfortunes of a beggar, not even akin to thee, move thy compassion, but thou canst behold thy son on the way to execution and thy daughters in hopeless misery without shedding a tear, or uttering a lament!" psamtik looked up at his conqueror, and answered: "the misfortunes of my own house, o son of cyrus, are too great for tears; but i may be permitted to weep over the afflictions of a friend, fallen, in his old age, from the height of happiness and influence into the most miserable beggary." cambyses' face expresseed his approval, and on looking round he saw that his was not the only eye which was filled with tears. croesus, bartja, and all the persians-nay, even phanes himself, who had served as interpreter to the kings-were weeping aloud. the proud conqueror was not displeased at these signs of sympathy, and turning to the athenian: "i think, my greek friend" he said, "we may consider our wrongs as avenged. rise, psamtik, and endeavor to imitate yonder noble old man, (pointing to croesus) by accustoming yourself to your fate. your father's fraud has been visited on you and your family. the crown, which i have wrested from you is the crown of which amasis deprived my wife, my never-to-be-forgotten nitetis. for her sake i began this war, and for her sake i grant you now the life of your son--she loved him. from this time forward you can live undisturbed at our court, eat at our table and share the privileges of our nobles. gyges, fetch the boy hither. he shall be brought up as you were, years ago, among the sons of the achaemenidae." the lydian was hastening to execute this delightful commission, but phanes stopped him before he could reach the door, and placing himself proudly between the king and the trembling, thankful psamtik, said: "you would be going on a useless errand, noble lydian. in defiance of your command, my sovereign, but in virtue of the full powers you once gave me, i have ordered the grandson of amasis to be the executioner's first victim. you have just heard the sound of a horn; that was the sign that the last heir to the egyptian throne born on the shores of the nile has been gathered to his fathers. i am aware of the fate i have to expect, cambyses. i will not plead for a life whose end has been attained. croesus, i understand your reproachful looks. you grieve for the murdered children. but life is such a web of wretchedness and disappointment, that i agree with your philosopher solon in thinking those fortunate to whom, as in former days to kleobis and biton, the gods decree an early death. [croesus, after having shown solon his treasures, asked him whom he held to be the most fortunate of men, hoping to hear his own name. the sage first named tellus, a famous citizen of athens, and then the brothers kleobis and biton. these were two handsome youths, who had gained the prize for wrestling, and one day, when the draught animals had not returned from the field, dragged their mother themselves to the distant temple, in presence of the people. the men of argos praised the strength of the sons,--the women praised the mother who possessed these sons. she, transported with delight at her sons' deed and the people's praise, went to the statue of the goddess and besought her to give them the best that could fall to the lot of men. when her prayer was over and the sacrifice offered, the youths fell asleep, and never woke again. they were dead. herod. i, 31. cicero. tuscul. i. 47.] "if i have ever been dear to you, cambyses--if my counsels have been of any use, permit me as a last favor to say a few more words. psamtik knows the causes that rendered us foes to each other. ye all, whose esteem is worth so much to me, shall know them too. this man's father placed me in his son's stead at the head of the troops which had been sent to cyprus. where psamtik had earned humiliation, i won success and glory. i also became unintentionally acquainted with a secret, which seriously endangered his chances of obtaining the crown; and lastly, i prevented his carrying off a virtuous maiden from the house of her grandmother, an aged woman, beloved and respected by all the greeks. these are the sins which he has never been able to forgive; these are the grounds which led him to carry on war to the death with me directly i had quitted his father's service. the struggle is decided now. my innocent children have been murdered at thy command, and i have been pursued like a wild beast. that has been thy revenge. but mine!--i have deprived thee of thy throne and reduced thy people to bondage. thy daughter i have called my slave, thy son's death-warrant was pronounced by my lips, and my eyes have seen the maiden whom thou persecutedst become the happy wife of a brave man. undone, sinking ever lower and lower, thou hast watched me rise to be the richest and most powerful of my nation. in the lowest depth of thine own misery--and this has been the most delicious morsel of my vengeance--thou wast forced to see me--me, phanes shedding tears that could not be kept back, at the sight of thy misery. the man, who is allowed to draw even one breath of life, after beholding his enemy so low, i hold to be happy as the gods themselves i have spoken." he ceased, and pressed his hand on his wound. cambyses gazed at him in astonishment, stepped forward, and was just going to touch his girdle-an action which would have been equivalent to the signing of a deathwarrant when his eye caught sight of the chain, which he himself had hung round the athenian's neck as a reward for the clever way in which he had proved the innocence of nitetis. [the same sign was used by the last darius to denote that his able greek general memnon, who had offended him by his plainness of speech, was doomed to death. as he was being led away, memnon exclaimed, in allusion to alexander, who was then fast drawing near: "thy remorse will soon prove my worth; my avenger is not far off." droysen, alex. d. grosse, diod. xvii. 30. curtius iii. 2.] the sudden recollection of the woman he loved, and of the countless services rendered him by phanes, calmed his wrath his hand dropped. one minute the severe ruler stood gazing lingeringly at his disobedient friend; the next, moved by a sudden impulse, he raised his right hand again, and pointed imperiously to the gate leading from the court. phanes bowed in silence, kissed the king's robe, and descended slowly into the court. psamtik watched him, quivering with excitement, sprang towards the veranda, but before his lips could utter the curse which his heart had prepared, he sank powerless on to the ground. cambyses beckoned to his followers to make immediate preparations for a lion-hunt in the libyan mountains. etext editor's bookmarks: between two stools a man falls to the ground human beings hate the man who shows kindness to their enemies misfortune too great for tears nothing is more dangerous to love, than a comfortable assurance ordered his feet to be washed and his head anointed rules of life given by one man to another are useless this ebook was produced by david widger <widger@cecomet.net> [note: there is a short list of bookmarks, or pointers, at the end of the file for those who may wish to sample the author's ideas before making an entire meal of them. d.w.] a word, only a word by georg ebers translated from the german by mary j. safford volume 1. chapter i. "a word, only a word!" cried a fresh, boyish voice, then two hands were loudly clapped and a gay laugh echoed through the forest. hitherto silence had reigned under the boughs of the pines and tops of the beeches, but now a wood-pigeon joined in the lad's laugh, and a jay, startled by the clapping of hands, spread its brown wings, delicately flecked with blue, and soared from one pine to another. spring had entered the black forest a few weeks before. may was just over, yet the weather was as sultry as in midsummer and clouds were gathering in denser and denser masses. the sun was still some distance above the horizon, but the valley was so narrow that the day star had disappeared, before making its majestic entry into the portals of night. when it set in a clear sky, it only gilded the border of pine trees on the crest of the lofty western heights; to-day it was invisible, and the occasional, quickly interrupted twittering of the birds seemed more in harmony with the threatening clouds and sultry atmosphere than the lad's gay laughter. every living creature seemed to be holding its breath in anxious suspense, but ulrich once more laughed joyously, then bracing his bare knee against a bundle of faggots, cried: "give me that stick, ruth, that i may tie it up. how dry the stuff is, and how it snaps! a word! to sit over books all day long for one stupid word--that's just nonsense!" "but all words are not alike," replied the girl. "piff is paff, and paff is puff!" laughed ulrich. "when i snap the twigs, you always hear them say 'knack, knack,' and 'knack' is a word too. the juggler caspar's magpie, can say twenty." "but father said so," replied ruth, arranging the dry sticks. "he toils hard, but not for gold and gain, to find the right words. you are always wanting to know what he is looking for in his big books, so i plucked up courage to ask him, and now i know. i suppose he saw i was astonished, for he smiled just as he does when you have asked some foolish question at lessons, and added that a word was no trifling thing and should not be despised, for god had made the world out of one single word." ulrich shook his head, and after pondering a few minutes, replied. "do you believe that?" "father said so," was the little girl's only answer. her words expressed the firm, immovable security of childish confidence, and the same feeling sparkled in her eyes. she was probably about nine years old, and in every respect a perfect contrast to her companion, her senior by several summers, for the latter was strongly built, and from beneath his beautiful fair locks a pair of big blue eyes flashed defiance at the world, while ruth was a delicate little creature, with slender limbs, pale cheeks, and coal-black hair. the little girl wore a fashionably-made, though shabby dress, shoes and stockings--the boy was barefoot, and his grey doublet looked scarcely less worn than the short leather breeches, which hardly reached his knees; yet he must have had some regard for his outer man, for a red knot of real silk was fastened on his shoulder. he could scarcely be the child of a peasant or woodland laborer--the brow was too high, the nose and red lips were too delicately moulded, the bearing was too proud and free. ruth's last words had given him food for thought, but he left them unanswered until the last bundle of sticks was tied up. then he said hesitatingly: "my mother--you know.... i dare not speak of her before father, he goes into such a rage; my mother is said to be very wicked--but she never was so to me, and i long for her day after day, very, very much, as i long for nothing else. when i was so high, my mother told me a great many things, such queer things! about a man, who wanted treasures, and before whom mountains opened at a word he knew. of course it's for such a word your father is seeking." "i don't know," replied the little girl. "but the word out of which god made the whole earth and sky and all the stars must have been a very great one." ulrich nodded, then raising his eyes boldly, exclaimed: "ah, if he should find it, and would not keep it to himself, but let you tell me! i should know what i wanted." ruth looked at him enquiringly, but he cried laughingly: "i shan't tell. but what would you ask?" "i? i should ask to have my mother able to speak again like other people. but you would wish...." "you can't know what i would wish." "yes, yes. you would bring your mother back home again." "no, i wasn't thinking of that," replied ulrich, flushing scarlet and fixing his eyes on the ground. "what, then? tell me; i won't repeat it." "i should like to be one of the count's squires, and always ride with him when he goes hunting." "oh!" cried ruth. "that would be the very thing, if i were a boy like you. a squire! but if the word can do everything, it will make you lord of the castle and a powerful count. you can have real velvet clothes, with gay slashes, and a silk bed." "and i'll ride the black stallion, and the forest, with all its stags and deer, will belong to me; as to the people down in the village, i'll show them!" raising his clenched fist and his eyes in menace as he uttered the words, he saw that heavy rain-drops were beginning to fall, and a thunder-shower was rising. hastily and skilfully loading himself with several bundles of faggots, he laid some on the little girl's shoulders, and went down with her towards the valley, paying no heed to the pouring rain, thunder or lightning; but ruth trembled in every limb. at the edge of the narrow pass leading to the city they stood still. the moisture was trickling down its steep sides and had gathered into a reddish torrent on the rocky bottom. "come!" cried ulrich, stepping on to the edge of the ravine, where stones and sand, loosened by the wet, were now rattling down. "i'm afraid," answered the little girl trembling. "there's another flash of lightning! oh! dear, oh, dear! how it blazes!--oh! oh! that clap of thunder!" she stooped as if the lightning had struck her, covered her face with her little hands, and fell on her knees, the bundle of faggots slipping to the ground. filled with terror, she murmured as if she could command the mighty word: "oh, word, word, get me home!" ulrich stamped impatiently, glanced at her with mingled anger and contempt, and muttering reproaches, threw her bundle and his own into the ravine, then roughly seized her hand and dragged her to the edge of the cliff. half-walking, half-slipping, with many an unkind word, though he was always careful to support her, the boy scrambled down the steep slope with his companion, and when they were at last standing in the water at the bottom of the gully, picked up the dripping fagots and walked silently on, carrying her burden as well as his own. after a short walk through the running water and mass of earth and stones, slowly sliding towards the valley, several shingled roofs appeared, and the little girl uttered a sigh of relief; for in the row of shabby houses, each standing by itself, that extended from the forest to the level end of the ravine, was her own home and the forge belonging to her companion's father. it was still raining, but the thunder-storm had passed as quickly as it rose, and twilight was already gathering over the mist-veiled houses and spires of the little city, from which the street ran to the ravine. the stillness of the evening was only interrupted by a few scattered notes of bells, the finale of the mighty peal by which the warder had just been trying to disperse the storm. the safety of the town in the narrow forest-valley was well secured, a wall and ditch enclosed it; only the houses on the edge of the ravine were unprotected. true, the mouth of the pass was covered by the field pieces on the city wall, and the strong tower beside the gate, but it was not incumbent on the citizens to provide for the safety of the row of houses up there. it was called the richtberg and nobody lived there except the rabble, executioners, and poor folk who were not granted the rights of citizenship. adam, the smith, had forfeited his, and ruth's father, doctor costa, was a jew, who ought to be thankful that he was tolerated in the old forester's house. the street was perfectly still. a few children were jumping over the mud-puddles, and an old washerwoman was putting a wooden vessel under the gutter, to collect the rain-water. ruth breathed more freely when once again in the street and among human beings, and soon, clinging to the hand of her father, who had come to meet her, she entered the house with him and ulrich. chapter ii. while the boy flung the damp bundles of brushwood on the floor beside the hearth in the doctor's kitchen, a servant from the monastery was leading three horses under the rude shed in front of the smith adam's work-shop the stately grey-haired monk, who had ridden the strong cream-colored steed, was already standing beside the embers of the fire, pressing his hands upon the warm chimney. the forge stood open, but spite of knocking and shouting, neither the master of the place, nor any other living soul appeared. adam had gone out, but could not be far away, for the door leading from the shop into the sitting-room, was also unlocked. the time was growing long to father benedict, so for occupation he tried to lift the heavy hammer. it was a difficult task, though he was no weakling, yet it was not hard for adam's arm to swing and guide the burden. if only the man had understood how to govern his life as well as he managed his ponderous tool! he did not belong to richtberg. what would his father have said, had he lived to see his son dwell here? the monk had known the old smith well, and he also knew many things about the son and his destiny, yet no more than rumor entrusts to one person concerning another's life. even this was enough to explain why adam had become so reserved, misanthropic and silent a man, though even in his youth lie certainly had not been what is termed a gay fellow. the forge where he grew up, was still standing in the market-place of the little city below; it had belonged to his grandfather and greatgrandfather. there had never been any lack of custom, to the annoyance of the wise magistrates, whose discussions were disturbed by the hammering that rang across the ill-paved square to the windows of the council-chamber; but, on the other hand, the idle hours of the watchmen under the arches of the ground-floor of the town-hall were sweetened by the bustle before the smithy. how adam had come from the market-place to the richtberg, is a story speedily told. he was the only child of his dead parents, and early learned his father's trade. when his mother died, the old man gave his son and partner his blessing, and some florins to pay his expenses, and sent him away. he went directly to nuremberg, which the old man praised as the high-school of the smith's art, and there remained twelve years. when, at the end of that time, news came to adam that his father was dead, and he had inherited the forge on the market-place, he wondered to find that he was thirty years old, and had gone no farther than nuremberg. true, everything that the rest of the world could do in the art of forging might be learned there. he was a large, heavy man, and from childhood had moved slowly and reluctantly from the place where he chanced to be. if work was pressing, he could not be induced to leave the anvil, even when evening had closed in; if it was pleasant to sit over the beer, he remained till after the last man had gone. while working, he was as mute as the dead to everything that was passing around him; in the tavern he rarely spoke, and then said only a few words, yet the young artists, sculptors, workers in gold and students liked to see the stout drinker and good listener at the table, and the members of his guild only marvelled how the sensible fellow, who joined in no foolish pranks, and worked in such good earnest, held aloof from them to keep company with these hairbrained folk, and remained a papist. he might have taken possession of the shop on the market-place directly after his father's death, but could not arrange his departure so quickly, and it was fully eight months before he left nuremberg. on the high-road before schwabach a wagon, occupied by some strolling performers, overtook the traveller. they belonged to the better class, for they appeared before counts and princes, and were seven in number. the father and four sons played the violin, viola and reboc, and the two daughters sang to the lute and harp. the old man invited adam to take the eighth place in the vehicle, so he counted his pennies, and room was made for him opposite flora, called by her family florette. the musicians were going to the fair at nordlingen, and the smith enjoyed himself so well with them, that he remained several days after reaching the goal of the journey. when he at last went away florette wept, but he walked straight on until noon, without looking back. then he lay down under a blossoming apple-tree, to rest and eat some lunch, but the lunch did not taste well; and when he shut his eyes he could not sleep, for he thought constantly of florette. of course! he had parted from her far too soon, and an eager longing seized upon him for the young girl, with her red lips and luxuriant hair. this hair was a perfect golden-yellow; he knew it well, for she had often combed and braided it in the tavernroom beside the straw where they all slept. he yearned to hear her laugh too, and would have liked to see her weep again. then he remembered the desolate smithy in the narrow market-place and the dreary home, recollected that he was thirty years old, and still had no wife. a little wife of his own! a wife like florette! seventeen years old, a complexion like milk and blood, a creature full of gayety and joyous life! true, he was no light-hearted lad, but, lying under the apple-tree in the month of may, he saw himself in imagination living happily and merrily in the smithy by the market-place, with the fair-haired girl who had already shed tears for him. at last he started up, and because he had determined to go still farther on this day, did so, though for no other reason than to carry out the plan formed the day before. the next morning, before sunrise, he was again marching along the highway, this time not forward towards the black forest, but back to nordlingen. that very evening florette became his betrothed bride, and the following tuesday his wife. the wedding was celebrated in the midst of the turmoil of the fair. strolling players, jugglers and buffoons were the witnesses, and there was no lack of music and tinsel. a quieter ceremony would have been more agreeable to the plain citizen and sensible blacksmith, but this purgatory had to be passed to reach paradise. on wednesday he went off in a fair wagon with his young wife, and in stuttgart bought with a portion of his savings many articles of household furniture, less to stop the gossips' tongues, of which he took no heed, than to do her honor in his own eyes. these things, piled high in a wagon of his own, he had sent into his native town as florette's dowry, for her whole outfit consisted of one pink and one grass-green gown, a lute and a little white dog. a delightful life now began in the smithy for adam. the gossips avoided his wife, but they stared at her in church, and among them she seemed to him, not unjustly, like a rose amid vegetables. the marriage he had made was an abomination to respectable citizens, but adam did not heed them, and flora appeared to feel equally happy with him. when, before the close of the first twelvemonth after their wedding, ulrich was born, the smith reached the summit of happiness and remained there for a whole year. when, during that time, he stood in the bow-window amid the fresh balsam, auricular and yellow wallflowers holding his boy on his shoulder, while his wife leaned on his arm, and the pungent odor of scorched hoofs reached his nostrils, and he saw his journeyman and apprentice shoeing a horse below, he often thought how pleasant it had been pursuing the finer branches of his craft in nuremberg, and that he should like to forge a flower again; but the blacksmith's trade was not to be despised either, and surely life with one's wife and child was best. in the evening he drank his beer at the lamb, and once, when the surgeon siedler called life a miserable vale of tears, he laughed in his face and answered: "to him who knows how to take it right, it is a delightful garden." florette was kind to her husband, and devoted herself to her child, so long as he was an infant, with the most self-sacrificing love. adam often spoke of a little daughter, who must look exactly like its mother; but it did not come. when little ulrich at last began to run about in the street, the mother's nomadic blood stirred, and she was constantly dinning it into her husband's ears that he ought to leave this miserable place and go to augsburg or cologne, where it would be pleasant; but he remained firm, and though her power over him was great, she could not move his resolute will. often she would not cease her entreaties and representations, and when she even complained that she was dying of solitude and weariness, his veins swelled with wrath, and then she was frightened, fled to her room and wept. if she happened to have a bold day, she threatened to go away and seek her own relatives. this displeased him, and he made her feel it bitterly, for he was steadfast in everything, even anger, and when he bore ill-will it was not for hours, but months, nor at such times could he be conciliated by coaxing or tears. by degrees florette learned to meet his discontent with a shrug of her shoulders, and to arrange her life in her own way. ulrich was her comfort, pride and plaything, but sporting with him did not satisfy her. while adam was standing behind the anvil, she sat among the flowers in the bow-window, and the watchmen now looked higher up than the forge, the worthy magistrates no longer cast unfriendly glances at the smith's house, for florette grew more and more beautiful in the quiet life she now enjoyed, and many a neighboring noble brought his horse to adam to be shod, merely to look into the eyes of the artisan's beautiful wife. count von frohlingen came most frequently of all, and florette soon learned to distinguish the hoof-beats of his horse from those of the other steeds, and when he entered the shop, willingly found some pretext for going there too. in the afternoons she often went with her child outside the gate, and then always chose the road leading to the count's castle. there was no lack of careful friends, who warned adam, but he answered them angrily, so they learned to be silent. florette had now grown gay again, and sometimes sang like a joyous bird. seven years elapsed, and during the summer of the eighth a scattered troop of soldiers came to the city and obtained admission. they were quartered under the arches of the town-hall, but many also lay in the smithy, for their helmets, breast-plates and other pieces of armor required plenty of mending. the ensign, a handsome, proud young fellow, with a dainty moustache, was adam's most constant customer, and played very kindly with ulrich, when florette appeared with him. at last the young soldier departed, and the very same day adam was summoned to the monastery, to mend something in the grating before the treasury. when he returned, florette had vanished; "run after the ensign," people said, and they were right. adam did not attempt to wrest her from the seducer; but a great love cannot be torn from the heart like a staff that is thrust into the ground; it is intertwined with a thousand fibres, and to destroy it utterly is to destroy the heart in which it has taken root, and with it life itself. when he secretly cursed her and called her a viper, he doubtless remembered how innocent, dear and joyous she had been, and then the roots of the destroyed affection put forth new shoots, and he saw before his mental vision ensnaring images, of which he felt ashamed as soon as they had vanished. lightning and hail had entered the "delightful garden" of adam's life also, and he had been thrust forth from the little circle of the happy into the great army of the wretched. purifying powers dwell in undeserved suffering, but no one is made better by unmerited disgrace, least of all a man like adam. he had done what seemed to him his duty, without looking to the right or the left, but now the stainless man felt himself dishonored, and with morbid sensitiveness referred everything he saw and heard to his own disgrace, while the inhabitants of the little town made him feel that he had been illadvised, when he ventured to make a fiddler's daughter a citizen. when he went out, it seemed to him--and usually unjustly--as if people were nudging each other; hands, pointing out-stretched fingers at him, appeared to grow from every eye. at home he found nothing but desolation, vacuity, sorrow, and a child, who constantly tore open the burning, gnawing wounds in his heart. ulrich must forget "the viper," and he sternly forbade him to speak of his mother; but not a day passed on which he would not fain have done so himself. the smith did not stay long in the house on the market-place. he wished to go to freiburg or ulm, any place where he had not been with her. a purchaser for the dwelling, with its lucrative business, was speedily found, the furniture was packed, and the new owner was to move in on wednesday, when on monday bolz, the jockey, came to adam's workshop from richtberg. the man had been a good customer for years, and bought hundreds of shoes, which he put on the horses at his own forge, for he knew something about the trade. he came to say farewell; he had his own nest to feather, and could do a more profitable business in the lowlands than up here in the forest. finally he offered adam his property at a very low price. the smith had smiled at the jockey's proposal, still he went to the richtberg the very next day to see the place. there stood the executioner's house, from which the whole street was probably named. one wretched hovel succeeded another. yonder before a door, wilhelm the idiot, on whom the city boys played their pranks, smiled into vacancy just as foolishly as he had done twenty years ago, here lodged kathrin, with the big goitre, who swept the gutters; in the three grey huts, from which hung numerous articles of ragged clothing, lived two families of charcoal-burners, and caspar, the juggler, a strange man, whom as a boy he had seen in the pillory, with his deformed daughters, who in winter washed laces and in summer went with him to the fairs. in the hovels, before which numerous children were playing, lived honest, but poor foresters. it was the home of want and misery. only the jockey's house and one other would have been allowed to exist in the city. the latter was occupied by the jew, costa, who ten years before had come from a distant country to the city with his aged father and a dumb wife, and remained there, for a little daughter was born and the old man was afterwards seized with a fatal illness. but the inhabitants would tolerate no jews among them, so the stranger moved into the forester's house on the richtberg which had stood empty because a better one had been built deeper in the woods. the city treasury could use the rent and tax exacted from jews and demanded of the stranger. the jew consented to the magistrate's requirement, but as it soon became known that he pored over huge volumes all day long and pursued no business, yet paid for everything in good money, he was believed to be an alchemist and sorcerer. all who lived here were miserable or despised, and when adam had left the richtberg he told himself that he no longer belonged among the proud and unblemished and since he felt dishonored and took disgrace in the same dogged earnest, that he did everything else, he believed the people in the richtberg were just the right neighbors for him. all knew what it is to be wretched, and many had still heavier disgrace to bear. and then! if want drove his miserable wife back to him, this was the right place for her and those of her stamp. so he bought the jockey's house and well-supplied forge. there would be customers enough for all he could do there in obscurity. he had no cause to repent his bargain. the old nurse remained with him and took care of ulrich, who throve admirably. his own heart too grew lighter while engaged in designing or executing many an artistic piece of work. he sometimes went to the city to buy iron or coals, but usually avoided any intercourse with the citizens, who shrugged their shoulders or pointed to their foreheads, when they spoke of him. about a year after his removal he had occasion to speak to the filecutter, and sought him at the lamb, where a number of count frolinger's retainers were sitting. adam took no notice of them, but they began to jeer and mock at him. for a time he succeeded in controlling himself, but when red-haired valentine went too far, a sudden fit of rage overpowered him and he felled him to the floor. the others now attacked him and dragged him to their master's castle, where he lay imprisoned for six months. at last he was brought before the count, who restored him to liberty "for the sake of florette's beautiful eyes." years had passed since then, during which adam had lived a quiet, industrious life in the richtberg with his son. he associated with no one, except doctor costa, in whom he found the first and only real friend fate had ever bestowed upon him. chapter iii. father benedict had last seen the smith soon after his return from imprisonment, in the confessional of the monastery. as the monk in his youth had served in a troop of the imperial cavalry, he now, spite of his ecclesiastical dignity, managed the stables of the wealthy monastery, and had formerly come to the smithy in the market-place with many a horse, but since the monks had become involved in a quarrel with the city, benedict ordered the animals to be shod elsewhere. a difficult case reminded him of the skilful, half-forgotten artisan; and when the latter came out of the shed with a sack of coal, benedict greeted him with sincere warmth. adam, too, showed that he was glad to see the unexpected visitor, and placed his skill at the disposal of the monastery. "it has grown late, adam," said the monk, loosening the belt he was accustomed to wear when riding, which had become damp. "the storm overtook us on the way. the rolling and flashing overhead made the sorrel horse almost tear gotz's hands off the wrists. three steps sideways and one forward--so it has grown late, and you can't shoe the rascal in the dark." "do you mean the sorrel horse?" asked adam, in a deep, musical voice, thrusting a blazing pine torch into the iron ring on the forge. "yes, master adam. he won't bear shoeing, yet he's very valuable. we have nothing to equal him. none of us can control him, but you formerly zounds!....you haven't grown younger in the last few years either, adam! put on your cap; you've lost your hair. your forehead reaches down to your neck, but your vigor has remained. do you remember how you cleft the anvil at rodebach?" "let that pass," replied adam--not angrily, but firmly. "i'll shoe the horse early to-morrow; it's too late to-day." "i thought so!" cried the other, clasping his hands excitedly. "you know how we stand towards the citizens on account of the tolls on the bridges. i'd rather lie on thorns than enter the miserable hole. the stable down below is large enough! haven't you a heap of straw for a poor brother in christ? i need nothing more; i've brought food with me." the smith lowered his eyes in embarrassment. he was not hospitable. no stranger had rested under his roof, and everything that disturbed his seclusion was repugnant to him. yet he could not refuse; so he answered coldly: "i live alone here with my boy, but if you wish, room can be made." the monk accepted as eagerly, as if he had been cordially invited; and after the horses and groom were supplied with shelter, followed his host into the sitting-room next the shop, and placed his saddle-bags on the table. "this is all right," he said, laughing, as he produced a roast fowl and some white bread. "but how about the wine? i need something warm inside after my wet ride. haven't you a drop in the cellar?" "no, father!" replied the smith. but directly after a second thought occurred to him, and he added: "yes, i can serve you." so saying, he opened the cupboard, and when, a short time after, the monk emptied the first goblet, he uttered a long drawn "ah!" following the course of the fiery potion with his hand, till it rested content near his stomach. his lips quivered a little in the enjoyment of the flavor; then he looked benignantly with his unusually round eyes at adam, saying cunningly: "if such grapes grow on your pine-trees, i wish the good lord had given father noah a pine-tree instead of a vine. by the saints! the archbishop has no better wine in his cellar! give me one little sip more, and tell me from whom you received the noble gift?" "costa gave me the wine." "the sorcerer---the jew?" asked the monk, pushing the goblet away. "but, of course," he continued, in a half-earnest, half-jesting tone, "when one considers--the wine at the first holy communion, and at the marriage of cana, and the juice of the grapes king david enjoyed, once lay in jewish cellars!" benedict had doubtless expected a smile or approving word from his host, but the smith's bearded face remained motionless, as if he were dead. the monk looked less cheerful, as he began again "you ought not to grudge yourself a goblet either. wine moderately enjoyed makes the heart glad; and you don't look like a contented man. everything in life has not gone according to your wishes, but each has his own cross to bear; and as for you, your name is adam, and your trials also come from eve!" at these words the smith moved his hand from his beard, and began to push the round leather cap to and fro on his bald head. a harsh answer was already on his lips, when he saw ulrich, who had paused on the threshold in bewilderment. the boy had never beheld any guest at his father's table except the doctor, but hastily collecting his thoughts he kissed the monk's hand. the priest took the handsome lad by the chin, bent his head back, looked adam also in the face, and exclaimed: "his mouth, nose and eyes he has inherited from your wife, but the shape of the brow and head is exactly like yours." a faint flush suffused adam's cheeks, and turning quickly to the boy as if he had heard enough, he cried: "you are late. where have you been so long?" "in the forest with ruth. we were gathering faggots for dr. costa." "until now?" "rahel had baked some dumplings, so the doctor told me to stay." "then go to bed now. but first take some food to the groom in the stable, and put fresh linen on my bed. be in the workshop early to-morrow morning, there is a horse to be shod." the boy looked up thoughtfully and replied: "yes, but the doctor has changed the hours; to-morrow the lesson will begin just after sunrise, father." "very well, we'll do without you. good-night then." the monk followed this conversation with interest and increasing disapproval, his face assuming a totally different expression, for the muscles between his nose and mouth drew farther back, forming with the underlip an angle turning inward. thus he gazed with mute reproach at the smith for some time, then pushed the goblet far away, exclaiming with sincere indignation: "what doings are these, friend adam? i'll let the jew's wine pass, and the dumplings too for aught i care, though it doesn't make a christian child more pleasing in the sight of god, to eat from the same dish with those on whom the saviour's innocent blood rests. but that you, a believing christian, should permit an accursed jew to lead a foolish lad. . . ." "let that pass," said the smith, interrupting the excited monk; but the latter would not be restrained, and only continued still more loudly and firmly: "i won't be stopped. was such a thing ever heard of? a baptized christian, who sends his own son to be taught by the infidel souldestroyer!" "hear me, father!" "no indeed. it's for you to hear--you! what was i saying? for you, you who seek for your poor child a soul-destroying infidel as teacher. do you know what that is? a sin against the holy ghost--the worst of all crimes. such an abomination! you will have a heavy penance imposed upon you in the confessional." "it's no sin--no abomination!" replied the smith defiantly. the angry blood mounted into the monk's cheeks, and he cried: threateningly: "oho! the chapter will teach you better to your sorrow. keep the boy away from the jew, or ......" "or?" repeated the smith, looking father benedict steadily in the face. the latter's lips curled still more deeply, as after a pause, he replied: "or excommunication and a fitting punishment will fall upon you and the vagabond doctor. tit for tat. we have grown tender-hearted, and it is long since a jew has been burned for an example to many." these words did not fail to produce an effect, for though adam was a brave man, the monk threatened him with things, against which he felt as powerless as when confronted with the might of the tempest and the lightning flashing from the clouds. his features now expressed deep mental anguish, and stretching out his hands repellently towards his guest, he cried anxiously "no, no! nothing more can happen to me. no excommunication, no punishment, can make my present suffering harder to bear, but if you harm the doctor, i shall curse the hour i invited you to cross my threshold." the monk looked at the other in surprise and answered in a more gentle tone: "you have always walked in your own way, adam; but whither are you going now? has the jew bewitched you, or what binds you to him, that you look, on his account, as if a thunderbolt had struck you? no one shall have cause to curse the hour he invited benedict to be his guest. see your way clearly once more, and when you have come to your senses--why, we monks have two eyes, that we may be able to close one when occasion requires. have you any special cause for gratitude to costa?" "many, father, many !" cried the smith, his voice still trembling with only too well founded anxiety for his friend. "listen, and when you know what he has done for me, and are disposed to judge leniently, do not carry what reaches your ears here before the chapter no, father-i beseech you--do not. for if it should be i, by whom the doctor came to ruin, i--i...." the man's voice failed, and his chest heaved so violently with his gasping breath, that his stout leathern apron rose and fell. "be calm, adam, be calm," said the monk, soothingly answering his companion's broken words. "all shall be well, all shall be well. sit down, man, and trust me. what is the terrible debt of gratitude you owe the doctor?" spite of the other's invitation, the smith remained standing and with downcast eyes, began: "i am not good at talking. you know how i was thrown into a dungeon on valentine's account, but no one can understand my feelings during that time. ulrich was left alone here among this miserable rabble with nobody to care for him, for our old maid-servant was seventy. i had buried my money in a safe place and there was nothing in the house except a loaf of bread and a few small coins, barely enough to last three days. the child was always before my eyes; i saw him ragged, begging, starving. but my anxiety tortured me most, after they had released me and i was going back to my house from the castle. it was a walk of two hours, but each one seemed as long as st. john's day. should i find ulrich or not? what had become of him? it was already dark, when i at last stood before the house. everything was as silent as the grave, and the door was locked. yet i must get in, so i rapped with my fingers, and then pounded with my fist on the door and shutters, but all in vain. finally spittellorle-[a nickname; literally: "hospital loura."]--came out of the red house next mine, and i heard all. the old woman had become idiotic, and was in the stocks. ulrich was at the point of death, and doctor costa had taken him home. when i heard this, i felt the same as you did just now; anger seized upon me, and i was as much ashamed as if i were standing in the pillory. my child with the jew! there was not much time for reflection, and i set off at full speed for the doctor's house. a light was shining through the window. it was high above the street, but as it stood open and i am tall, i could look in and see over the whole room. at the right side, next the wall, was a bed, where amid the white pillows lay my boy. the doctor sat by his side, holding the child's hand in his. little ruth nestled to him, asking: 'well, father?' the man smiled. do you know him, pater? he is about thirty years old, and has a pale, calm face. he smiled and said so gratefully, so-so joyously, as if ulrich were his own son: 'thank god, he will be spared to us!' the little girl ran to her dumb mother, who was sitting by the stove, winding yarn, exclaiming: 'mother, he'll get well again. i have prayed for him every day.' the jew bent over my child and pressed his lips upon the boy's brow--and i, i--i no longer clenched my fist, and was so overwhelmed with emotion, that i could not help weeping, as if i were still a child myself, and since then, pater benedictus, since...." he paused; the monk rose, laid his hand on the smith's shoulder, and said: "it has grown late, adam. show me to my couch. another day will come early to-morrow morning, and we should sleep over important matters. but one thing is settled, and must remain so-under all circumstances: the boy is no longer to be taught by the jew. he must help you shoe the horses to-morrow. you will be reasonable!" the smith made no reply, but lighted the monk to the room where he and his son usually slept. his own couch was covered with fresh linen for the guest--ulrich already lay in his bed, apparently asleep. "we have no other room to give you," said adam, pointing to the boy; but the monk was content with his sleeping companions, and after his host had left him, gazed earnestly at ulrich's fresh, handsome face. the smith's story had moved him, and he did not go to rest at once, but paced thoughtfully up and down the room, stepping lightly, that he might not disturb the child's slumber. adam had reason to be grateful to the man, and why should there not be good jews? he thought of the patriarchs, moses, solomon, and the prophets, and had not the saviour himself, and john and paul, whom he loved above all the apostles, been the children of jewish mothers, and grown up among jews? and adam! the poor fellow had had more than his share of trouble, and he who believes himself deserted by god, easily turns to the devil. he was warned now, and the mischief to his son must be stopped once for all. what might not the child hear from the jew, in these times, when heresy wandered about like a roaring lion, and sat by all the roads like a siren. only by a miracle had this secluded valley been spared the evil teachings, but the peasants had already shown that they grudged the nobles the power, the cities the rich gains, and the priesthood the authority and earthly possessions, bestowed on them by god. he was disposed to let mildness rule, and spare the jew this time--but only on one condition. when he took off his cowl, he looked for a hook on which to hang it, and while so doing, perceived on the shelf a row of boards. taking one down, he found a sketch of an artistic design for the enclosure of a fountain, done by the smith's hand, and directly opposite his bed a linden-wood panel, on which a portrait was drawn with charcoal. this roused his curiosity, and, throwing the light of the torch upon it, he started back, for it was a rudely executed, but wonderfully life-like head of costa, the jew. he remembered him perfectly, for he had met him more than once. the monk shook his head angrily, but lifted the picture from the shelf and examined more closely the doctor's delicately-cut nose, and the noble arch of the brow. while so doing, he muttered unintelligible words, and when at last, with little show of care, he restored the modest work of art to its old place, ulrich awoke, and, with a touch of pride, exclaimed: "i drew that myself, father!" "indeed!" replied the monk. "i know of better models for a pious lad. you must go to sleep now, and to-morrow get up early and help your father. do you understand?" so saying, with no gentle hand he turned the boy's head towards the wall. the mildness awakened by adam's story had all vanished to the winds. adam allowed his son to practise idolatry with the jew, and make pictures of him. this was too much. he threw himself angrily on his couch, and began to consider what was to be done in this difficult matter, but sleep soon brought his reflections to an end. ulrich rose very early, and when benedict saw him again in the light of the young day, and once more looked at the jew's portrait, drawn by the handsome boy, a thought came to him as if inspired by the saints themselves--the thought of persuading the smith to give his son to the monastery. chapter iv. this morning pater benedictus was a totally different person from the man, who had sat over the wine the night before. coldly and formally he evaded the smith's questions, until the latter had sent his son away. ulrich, without making any objection, had helped his father shoe the sorrel horse, and in a few minutes, by means of a little stroking over the eyes and nose, slight caresses, and soothing words, rendered the refractory stallion as docile as a lamb. no horse had ever resisted the lad, from the time he was a little child, the smith said, though for what reason he did not know. these words pleased the monk, for he was only too familiar with two fillies, that were perfect fiends for refractoriness, and the fair-haired boy could show his gratitude for the schooling he received, by making himself useful in the stable. ulrich must go to the monastery, so benedictus curtly declared with the utmost positiveness, after the smith had finished his work. at midsummer a place would be vacant in the school, and this should be reserved for the boy. a great favor! what a prospect--to be reared there with aristocratic companions, and instructed in the art of painting. whether he should become a priest, or follow some worldly pursuit, could be determined later. in a few years the boy could choose without restraint. this plan would settle everything in the best possible way. the jew need not be injured, and the smith's imperiled son would be saved. the monk would hear no objections. either the accusation against the doctor should be laid before the chapter, or ulrich must go to the school. in four weeks, on st. john's day, so benedictus declared, the smith and his son might announce their names to the porter. adam must have saved many florins, and there would be time enough to get the lad shoes and clothes, that he might hold his own in dress with the other scholars. during this whole transaction the smith felt like a wild animal in the hunter's toils, and could say neither "yes" nor "no." the monk did not insist upon a promise, but, as he rode away, flattered himself that he had snatched a soul from the claws of satan, and gained a prize for the monastery-school and his stable--a reflection that made him very cheerful. adam retrained alone beside the fire. often, when his heart was heavy, he had seized his huge hammer and deadened his sorrow by hard work; but to-day he let the tool lie, for the consciousness of weakness and lack of will paralyzed his lusty vigor, and he stood with drooping head, as if utterly crushed. the thoughts that moved him could not be exactly expressed in words, but doubtless a vision of the desolate forge, where he would stand alone by the fire without ulrich, rose before his mind. once the idea of closing his house, taking the boy by the hand, and wandering out into the world with him, flitted through his brain. but then, what would become of the jew, and how could he leave this place? where would his miserable wife, the accursed, lovely sinner, find him, when she sought him again? ulrich had run out of doors long ago. had he gone to study his lessons with the jew? he started in terror at the thought. passing his hands over his eyes, like a dreamer roused from sleep, he went into his chamber, threw off his apron, cleansed his face and hands from the soot of the forge, put on his burgher dress, which he only wore when he went to church or visited the doctor, and entered the street. the thunder-storm had cleared the air, and the sun shone pleasantly on the shingled roofs of the miserable houses of the richtberg. its rays were reflected from the little round window-panes, and flickered over the tree-tops on the edge of the ravine. the light-green hue of the fresh young foliage on the beeches glittered as brightly against the dark pines, as if spring had made them a token of her mastery over the grave companions of winter; yet even the pines were not passed by, and where her finger had touched the tips of the branches in benediction, appeared tender young shoots, fresh as the grass by the brook, and green as chrysophase and emerald. the stillness of morning reigned within the forest, yet it was full of life, rich in singing, chirping and twittering. light streamed from the blue sky through the tree-tops, and the golden sunbeams shimmered and danced over the branches, trunks and ground, as if they had been prisoned in the woods and could never find their way out. the shadows of the tall trunks lay in transparent bars on the underbrush, luxuriant moss, and ferns, and the dew clung to the weeds and grass. nature had celebrated her festival of resurrection at easter, and the day after the morrow joyous whitsuntide would begin. fresh green life was springing from the stump of every dead tree; even the rocks afforded sustenance to a hundred roots, a mossy covering and network of thorny tendrils clung closely to them. the wild vine twined boldly up many a trunk, fruit was already forming on the bilberry bushes, though it still glimmered with a faint pink hue amid the green of may. a thousand blossoms, white, red, blue and yellow, swayed on their slender stalks, opened their calixes to the bees, unfolded their stars to deck the woodland carpet, or proudly stretched themselves up as straight as candles. grey fungi had shot up after the refreshing rain, and gathered round the red-capped giants among the mushrooms. under, over and around all this luxuriant vegetation hopped, crawled, flew, fluttered, buzzed and chirped millions of tiny, short-lived creatures. but who heeds them on a sunny spring morning in the forest, when the birds are singing, twittering, trilling, pecking, cooing and calling so joyously? murmuring and plashing, the forest stream dashed down its steep bed over rocks and amid moss-covered stones and smooth pebbles to the valley. the hurrying water lived, and in it dwelt its gay inhabitants, fresh plants grew along the banks from source to mouth, while over and around it a third species of living creatures sunned themselves, fluttered, buzzed and spun delicate silk threads. in the midst of a circular clearing, surrounded by dense woods, smoked a charcoal kiln. it was less easy to breathe here, than down in the forest below. where nature herself rules, she knows how to guard beauty and purity, but where man touches her, the former is impaired and the latter sullied. it seemed as if the morning sunlight strove to check the smoke from the smouldering wood, in order to mount freely into the blue sky. little clouds floated over the damp, grassy earth, rotting tree-trunks, piles of wood and heaps of twigs that surrounded the kiln. a moss-grown but stood at the edge of the forest, and before it sat ulrich, talking with the coal-burner. people called this man "hangemarx," and in truth he looked in his black rags, like one of those for whom it is a pity that nature should deck herself in her spring garb. he had a broad, peasant face, his mouth was awry, and his thick yellowish-red hair, which in many places looked washed out or faded, hung so low over his narrow forehead, that it wholly concealed it, and touched his bushy, snow-white brows. the eyes under them needed to be taken on trust, they were so well concealed, but when they peered through the narrow chink between the rows of lashes, not even a mote escaped them. ulrich was shaping an arrow, and meantime asking the coal-burner numerous questions, and when the latter prepared to answer, the boy laughed heartily, for before hangemarx could speak, he was obliged to straighten his crooked mouth by three jerking motions, in which his nose and cheeks shared. an important matter was being discussed between the two strangely dissimilar companions. after it grew dark, ulrich was to come to the charcoal-burner again. marx knew where a fine buck couched, and was to drive it towards the boy, that he might shoot it. the host of the lamb down in the town needed game, for his gretel was to be married on tuesday. true, marx could kill the animal himself, but ulrich had learned to shoot too, and if the place whence the game came should be noised abroad, the charcoal-burner, without any scruples of conscience, could swear that he did not shoot the buck, but found it with the arrow in its heart. people called the charcoal-burner a poacher, and he owed his ill-name of "hangemarx" to the circumstance that once, though long ago, he had adorned a gallows. yet he was not a dishonest man, only he remembered too faithfully the bold motto, which, when a boy, one peasant wood-cutter or charcoal-burner whispered to another: "forest, stream and meadow are free." his dead father had joined the bundschuh,--[a peasants' league which derived its name from the shoe, of peculiar shape, worn by its members.] --adopted this motto, and clung fast to it and with it, to the belief that every living thing in the forest belonged to him, as much as to the city, the nobles, or the monastery. for this faith he had undergone much suffering, and owed to it his crooked mouth and ill name, for just as his beard was beginning to grow, the father of the reigning count came upon him, just after he had killed a fawn in the "free" forest. the legs of the heavy animal were tied together with ropes, and marx was obliged to take the ends of the knot between his teeth like a bridle, and drag the carcass to the castle. while so doing his cheeks were torn open, and the evil deed neither pleased him nor specially strengthened his love for the count. when, a short time after, the rebellion broke out in stuhlingen, and he heard that everywhere the peasants were rising against the monks and nobles, he, too, followed the black, red and yellow banner, first serving with hans muller of bulgenbach, then with jacklein rohrbach of bockingen, and participating with the multitude in the overthrow of the city and castle of neuenstein. at weinsberg he saw count helfenstein rush upon the spears, and when the noble countess was driven past him to heilbronn in the dung-cart, he tossed his cap in the air with the rest. the peasant was to be lord now; the yoke of centuries was to be broken; unjust imposts, taxes, tithes and villenage would be forever abolished, while the fourth of the twelve articles he had heard read aloud more than once, remained firmly fixed in his memory "game, birds and fish every one is free to catch." moreover, many a verse from the gospel, unfavorable to the rich, but promising the kingdom of heaven to the poor, and that the last shall be first, had reached his ears. doubtless many of the leaders glowed with lofty enthusiasm for the liberation of the poor people from unendurable serfdom and oppression; but when marx, and men like him, left wife and children and risked their lives, they remembered only the past, and the injustice they had suffered, and were full of a fierce yearning to trample the dainty, torturing demons under their heavy peasant feet. the charcoal-burner had never lighted such bright fires, never tasted such delicious meat and spicy wine, as during that period of his life, while vengeance had a still sweeter savor than all the rest. when the castle fell, and its noble mistress begged for mercy, he enjoyed a foretaste of the promised paradise. satan has also his eden of fiery roses, but they do not last long, and when they wither, put forth sharp thorns. the peasants felt them soon enough, for at sindelfingen they found their master in captain georg truchsess of waldberg. marx fell into his troopers' hands and was hung on the gallows, but only in mockery and as a warning to others; for before he and his companions perished, the men took them down, cut their oath-fingers from their hands, and drove them back into their old servitude. when he at last returned home, his house had been taken from his family, whom he found in extreme poverty. the father of adam, the smith, to whom he had formerly sold charcoal, redeemed the house, gave him work, and once, when a band of horsemen came to the city searching for rebellious peasants, the old man did not forbid him to hide three whole days in his barn. since that time everything had been quiet in swabia, and neither in forest, stream nor meadow had any freedom existed. marx had only himself to provide for; his wife was dead, and his sons were raftsmen, who took pine logs to mayence and cologne, sometimes even as far as holland. he owed gratitude to no one but adam, and showed in his way that he was conscious of it, for he taught ulrich all sorts of things which were of no advantage to a boy, except to give him pleasure, though even in so doing he did not forget his own profit. ulrich was now fifteen, and could manage a cross-bow and hit the mark like a skilful hunter, and as the lad did not lack a love for the chase, marx afforded him the pleasure. all he had heard about the equal rights of men he engrafted into the boy's soul, and when to-day, for the hundredth time, ulrich expressed a doubt whether it was not stealing to kill game that belonged to the count, the charcoal-burner straightened his mouth, and said: "forest, stream and meadow are free. surely you know that." the boy gazed thoughtfully at the ground for a time, and then asked: "the fields too?" "the fields?" repeated marx, in surprise. "the fields? the fields are a different matter." he glanced as he spoke, at the field of oats he had sown in the autumn, and which now bore blades a finger long. "the fields are man's work and belong to him who tills them, but the forest, stream and meadow were made by god. do you understand? what god created for adam and eve is everybody's property." as the sun rose higher, and the cuckoo began to raise its voice, ulrich's name was shouted loudly several times in rapid succession through the forest. the arrow he had been shaping flew into a corner, and with a hasty "when it grows dusk, marxle!" ulrich dashed into the woods, and soon joined his playmate ruth. the pair strolled slowly through the forest by the side of the stream, enjoying the glorious morning, and gathering flowers to carry a bouquet to the little girl's mother. ruth culled the blossoms daintily with the tips of her fingers; ulrich wanted to help, and tore the slender stalks in tufts from the roots by the handful. meantime their tongues were not idle. ulrich boastfully told her that pater benedictus had seen his picture of her father, recognized it instantly, and muttered something over it. his mother's blood was strong in him; his imaginary world was a very different one from that of the narrow-minded boys of the richtberg. his father had told him much, and the doctor still more, about the wide, wide world-kings, artists and great heroes. from hangemarx he learned, that he possessed the same rights and dignity as all other men, and ruth's wonderful power of imagination peopled his fancy with the strangest shapes and figures. she made royal crowns of wreaths, transformed the little hut, the lad had built of boughs, behind the doctor's house, into a glittering imperial palace, converted round pebbles into ducats and golden zechins--bread and apples into princely banquets; and when she had placed two stools before the wooden bench on which she sat with ulrich her fancy instantly transformed them into a silver coronation coach with milk-white steeds. when she was a fairy, ulrich was obliged to be a magician; if she was the queen, he was king. when, to give vent to his animal spirits, ulrich played with the richtberg boys, he always led them, but allowed himself to be guided by little ruth. he knew that the doctor was a despised jew, that she was a jewish child; but his father honored the hebrew, and the foreign atmosphere, the aristocratic, secluded repose that pervaded the solitary scholar's house, exerted a strange influence over him. when he entered it, a thrill ran through his frame; it seemed as if he were penetrating into some forbidden sanctuary. he was the only one of all his playfellows, who was permitted to cross this threshold, and he felt it as a distinction, for, in spite of his youth, he realized that the quiet doctor, who knew everything that existed in heaven and on earth, and yet was as mild and gentle as a child, stood far, far above the miserable drudges, who struggled with sinewy hands for mere existence on the richtberg. he expected everything from him, and ruth also seemed a very unusual creature, a delicate work of art, with whom he, and he only, was allowed to play. it might have happened, that when irritated he would upbraid her with being a wretched jewess, but it would scarcely have surprised him, if she had suddenly stood before his eyes as a princess or a phoenix. when the richtberg lay close beneath them, ruth sat down on a stone, placing her flowers in her lap. ulrich threw his in too, and, as the bouquet grew, she held it towards him, and he thought it very pretty; but she said, sighing: "i wish roses grew in the forest; not common hedgeroses, but like those in portugal--full, red, and with the real perfume. there is nothing that smells sweeter." so it always was with the pair. ruth far outstripped ulrich in her desires and wants, thus luring him to follow her. "a rose!" repeated ulrich. "how astonished you look!" her wish reminded him of the magic word she had mentioned the day before, and they talked about it all the way home, ulrich saying that he had waked three times in the night on account of it. ruth eagerly interrupted him, exclaiming: "i thought of it again too, and if any one would tell the what it was, i should know what to wish now. i would not have a single human being in the world except you and me, and my father and mother." "and my little mother!" added ulrich, earnestly. "and your father, too!" "why, of course, he, too!" said the boy, as if to make hasty atonement for his neglect. chapter v. the sun was shining brightly on the little windows of the israelite's sitting-room, which were half open to admit the spring air, though lightly shaded with green curtains, for costa liked a subdued light, and was always careful to protect his apartment from the eyes of passers-by. there was nothing remarkable to be seen, for the walls were whitewashed, and their only ornament was a garland of lavender leaves, whose perfume ruth's mother liked to inhale. the whole furniture consisted of a chest, several stools, a bench covered with cushions, a table, and two plain wooden arm-chairs. one of the latter had long been the scene of adam's happiest hours, for he used to sit in it when he played chess with costa. he had sometimes looked on at the noble game while in nuremberg; but the doctor understood it thoroughly, and had initiated him into all its rules. for the first two years costa had remained far in advance of his pupil, then he was compelled to defend himself in good earnest, and now it not unfrequently happened that the smith vanquished the scholar. true, the latter was much quicker than the former, who if the situation became critical, pondered over it an unconscionably long time. two hands more unlike had rarely met over a chess-board; one suggested a strong, dark ploug-ox, the other a light, slender-limbed palfrey. the israelite's figure looked small in contrast with the smith's gigantic frame. how coarse-grained, how heavy with thought the german's big, fair head appeared, how delicately moulded and intellectual the portuguese jew's. to-day the two men had again sat down to the game, but instead of playing, had been talking very, very earnestly. in the course of the conversation the doctor had left his place and was pacing restlessly to and fro. adam retained his seat. his friend's arguments had convinced him. ulrich was to be sent to the monastery-school. costa had also been informed of the danger that threatened his own person, and was deeply agitated. the peril was great, very great, yet it was hard, cruelly hard, to quit this peaceful nook. the smith understood what was passing in his mind, and said: "it is hard for you to go. what binds you here to the richtberg?" "peace, peace!" cried the other. "and then," he added more calmly, "i have gained land here." "you?" "the large and small graves behind the executioner's house, they are my estates." "it is hard, hard to leave them," said the smith, with drooping head. "all this comes upon you on account of the kindness you have shown my boy; you have had a poor reward from us." "reward?" asked the other, a subtle smile hovering around his lips. "i expect none, neither from you nor fate. i belong to a poor sect, that does not consider whether its deeds will be repaid or not. we love goodness, set a high value on it, and practise it, so far as our power extends, because it is so beautiful. what have men called good? only that which keeps the soul calm. and what is evil? that which fills it with disquiet. i tell you, that the hearts of those who pursue virtue, though they are driven from their homes, hunted and tortured like noxious beasts, are more tranquil than those of their powerful persecutors, who practise evil. he who seeks any other reward for virtue, than virtue itself, will not lack disappointment. it is neither you nor ulrich, who drives me hence, but the mysterious ancient curse, that pursues my people when they seek to rest; it is, it is.... another time, to-morrow. this is enough for to-day." when the doctor was alone, he pressed his hand to his brow and groaned aloud. his whole life passed before his mind, and he found in it, besides terrible suffering, great and noble joys, and not an hour in which his desire for virtue was weakened. he had spent happy years here in the peace of his simple home, and now must again set forth and wander on and on, with nothing before his eyes save an uncertain goal, at the end of a long, toilsome road. what had hitherto been his happiness, increased his misery in this hour. it was hard, unspeakably hard, to drag his wife and child through want and sorrow, and could elizabeth, his wife, bear it again? he found her in the tiny garden behind the horse, kneeling before a flower-bed to weed it. as he greeted her pleasantly, she rose and beckoned to him. "let us sit down," he said, leading her to the bench before the hedge, that separated the garden from the forest. there he meant to tell her, that they must again shake the dust from their feet. she had lost the power of speech on the rack in portugal, and could only falter a few unintelligible words, when greatly excited, but her hearing had remained, and her husband understood how to read the expression of her eyes. a great sorrow had drawn a deep line in the high, pure brow, and this also was eloquent; for when she felt happy and at peace it was scarcely perceptible, but if an anxious or sorrowful mood existed, the furrow contracted and deepened. to-day it seemed to have entirely disappeared. her fair hair was drawn plainly and smoothly, over her temples, and the slender, slightly stooping figure, resembled a young tree, which the storm has bowed and deprived of strength and will to raise itself. "beautiful!" she exclaimed in a smothered tone, with much effort, but her bright glance clearly expressed the joy that filled her soul, as she pointed to the green foliage around her and the blue sky over their heads. "delicious-delicious!" he answered, cordially. "the june day is reflected in your dear face. you have learned to be contented here?" elizabeth nodded eagerly, pressing both hands upon her heart, while her eloquent glance told him how well, how grateful and happy, she felt here; and when in reply to his timid question, whether it would be hard for her to leave this place and seek another, a safer home, she gazed at first in surprise, then anxiously into his face, and then, with an eager gesture of refusal, gasped "not go--not go!" he answered, soothingly: "no, no; we are still safe here to-day!" elizabeth knew her husband, and had keen eyes; a presentiment of approaching danger seized upon her. her features assumed an expression of terrified expectation and deep grief. the furrow in her brow deepened, and questioning glances and gestures united with the "what?--what?" trembling on her lips. "do not fear!" he replied, tenderly." we must not spoil the present, because the future might bring something that is not agreeable to us." as he uttered the words, she pressed closely to him, clutching his arm with both hands, but he felt the rapid throbbing of her heart, and perceived by the violent agitation expressed in every feature, what deep, unconquerable horror was inspired by the thought of being compelled to go out into the world again, hunted from country to country, from town to town. all that she had suffered for his sake, came back to his memory, and he clasped her trembling hands in his with passionate fervor. it seemed as if it would be very, very easy, to die with her, but wholly impossible to thrust her forth again into a foreign land and to an uncertain fate; so, kissing her on her eyes, which were dilated with horrible fear, he exclaimed, as if no peril, but merely a foolish wish had suggested the desire to roam: "yes, child, it is best here. let us be content with what we have. we will stay!--yes, we will stay!" elizabeth drew a long breath, as if relieved from an incubus, her brow became smooth, and it seemed as if the dumb mouth joined the large upraised eyes in uttering an "amen," that came from the inmost depths of the heart. costa's soul was saddened and sorely troubled, when he returned to the house and his writing-table. the old maid-servant, who had accompanied him from portugal, entered at the same time, and watched his preparations, shaking her head. she was a small, crippled jewess, a grey-haired woman, with youthful, bright, dark eyes, and restless hands, that fluttered about her face with rapid, convulsive gestures, while she talked. she had grown old in portugal, and contracted rheumatism in the unusual cold of the north, so even in spring she wrapped her head in all the gay kerchiefs she owned. she kept the house scrupulously neat, understood how to prepare tempting dishes from very simple materials, and bought everything she needed for the kitchen. this was no trifling matter for her, since, though she had lived more than nine years in the black forest, she had learned few german words. even these the neighbors mistook for portuguese, though they thought the language bore some distant resemblance to german. her gestures they understood perfectly. she had voluntarily followed the doctor's father, yet she could not forgive the dead man, for having brought her out of the warm south into this horrible country. having been her present master's nurse, she took many liberties with him, insisting upon knowing everything that went on in the household, of which she felt herself the oldest, and therefore the most distinguished member; and it was strange how quickly she could hear when she chose, spite of her muffled ears! to-day she had been listening again, and as her master was preparing to take his seat at the table and sharpen his goose-quill, she glanced around to see that they were entirely alone; then approached, saying in portuguese: "don't begin that, lopez. you must listen to me first." "must i?" he asked, kindly. "if you don't choose to do it, i can go!" she answered, angrily. "to be sure, sitting still is more comfortable than running." "what do you mean by that?" "do you suppose yonder books are the walls of zion? do you feel inclined to make the monks' acquaintance once more?" "fie, fie, rahel, listening again? go into the kitchen!" "directly! directly! but i will speak first. you pretend, that you are only staying here to please your wife, but it's no such thing. it's yonder writing that keeps you. i know life, but you and your wife are just like two children. evil is forgotten in the twinkling of an eye, and blessing is to come straight from heaven, like quails and manna. what sort of a creature have your books made you, since you came with the doctor's hat from coimbra? then everybody said: 'lopez, senor lopez. heavenly father, what a shining light he'll be!' and now! the lord have mercy on us! you work, work, and what does it bring you? not an egg; not a rush! go to your uncle in the netherlands. he'll forget the curse, if you submit! how many of the zechins, your father saved, are still left?" here the doctor interrupted the old woman's torrent of speech with a stern "enough!" but she would not allow herself to be checked, and continued with increasing volubility. "enough, you say? i fret over perversity enough in silence. may my tongue wither, if i remain mute to-day. good god! child, are you out of your senses? everything has been crammed into your poor head, but to be sure it isn't written in the books, that when people find out what happened in porto, and that you married a baptized child, a gentile, a christian girl......" at these words the doctor rose, laid his hands on the servant's shoulder, and said with grave, quiet earnestness. "whoever speaks of that, may betray it; may betray it. do you understand me, rahel? i know your good intentions, and therefore tell you: my wife is content here, and danger is still far away. we shall stay. and besides: since elizabeth became mine, the jews avoid me as an accursed, the christians as a condemned man. the former close the doors, the latter would fain open them; the gates of a prison, i mean. no portuguese will come here, but in the netherlands there is more than one monk and one jew from porto, and if any of them recognize me and find elizabeth with me, it will involve no less trifle than her life and mine. i shall stay here; you now know why, and can go to your kitchen." old rahel reluctantly obeyed, yet the doctor did not resume his seat at the writing-table, but for a long time paced up and down among his books more rapidly than usual. chapter vi. st. john's day was close at hand. ulrich was to go to the monastery the following morning. hitherto father benedict had been satisfied, and no one molested the doctor. yet the tranquillity, which formerly exerted so beneficial an effect, had departed, and the measures of precaution he now felt compelled to adopt, like everything else that brought him into connection with the world, interrupted the progress of his work. the smith was obliged to provide ulrich with clothing, and for this purpose went with the lad and a well-filled purse, not to his native place, but to the nearest large city. there many a handsome suit of garments hung in the draper's windows, and the barefooted boy blushed crimson with delight, when he stood before this splendid show. as he was left free to choose, he instantly selected the clothes a nobleman had ordered for his son, and which, from head to foot, were blue on one side and yellow on the other. but adam pushed them angrily aside. ulrich's pleasure in the gay stuff reminded him of his wife's outfit, the pink and green gowns. so he bought two dark suits, which fitted the lad's erect figure as if moulded upon him, and when the latter stood before him in the inn, neatly dressed, with shoes on his feet, and a student's cap on his head, adam could not help gazing at him almost idolatrously. the tavern-keeper whispered to the smith, that it was long since he had seen so handsome a young fellow, and the hostess, after bringing the beer, stroked the boy's curls with her wet hand. on reaching home, adam permitted his son to go to the doctor's in his new clothes; ruth screamed with joy when she saw him, walked round and round him, and curiously felt the woollen stuff of the doublet and its blue slashes, ever and anon clapping her hands in delight. her parents had expected that the parting would excite her most painfully, but she smiled joyously into her playmate's face, when he bade her farewell, for she took the matter in her usual way, not as it really was, but as she imagined it to be. instead of the awkward ulrich of the present, the fairy-prince he was now to become stood before her; he was to return without fail at christmas, and then how delightful it would be to play with him again. of late they had been together even more than usual, continually seeking for the word, and planning a thousand delightful things he was to conjure up for her, and she for him and others. it was the sabbath, and on this day old rahel always dressed the child in a little yellow silk frock, while on sunday her mother did the same. the gown particularly pleased ulrich's eye, and when she wore it, he always became more yielding and obeyed her every wish. so ruth rejoiced that it chanced to be the sabbath, and while she passed her hand over his doublet, he stroked her silk dress. they had not much to say to each other, for their tongues always faltered in the presence of others. the doctor gave ulrich many an admonitory word, his wife kissed him, and as a parting remembrance hung a small gold ring, with a glittering stone, about his neck, and old rahel gave him a kerchief full of freshly-baked cakes to eat on his way. at noon on st. john's day, ulrich and his father stood before the gate of the monastery. servants and mettled steeds were waiting there, and the porter, pointing to them, said: "count frohlinger is within." adam turned pale, pressed his son so convulsively to his breast that he groaned with pain, sent a laybrother to call father benedict, confided his child to him, and walked towards home with drooping head. hitherto ulrich had not known whether to enjoy or dread the thought of going to the monastery-school. the preparations had been pleasant enough, and the prospect of sharing the same bench with the sons of noblemen and aristocratic citizens, flattered his unity; but when he saw his father depart, his heart melted and his eyes grew wet. the monk; noticing this, drew him towards him, patted his shoulder, and said: "keep up your courage! you will see that it is far pleasanter with us, than down in the richtberg." this gave ulrich food for thought, and he did not glance around as the father led him up the steep stairs to the landing-place, and past the refectory into the court-yard. monks were pacing silently up and down the corridors that surrounded it, and one after another raised his shaven head higher over his white cowl, to cast a look at the new pupil. behind the court-yard stood the stately, gable-roofed building containing the guest-rooms, and between it and the church lay the school-garden, a meadow planted with fruit trees, separated from the highway by a wall. benedictus opened the wooden gate, and pushed ulrich into the playground. the noise there had been loud enough, but at his entrance the game stopped, and his future companions nudged each other, scanning him with scrutinizing glances. the monk beckoned to several of the pupils, and made them acquainted with the smith's son, then stroking ulrich's curls again, left him alone with the others. on st. john's day the boys were given their liberty and allowed to play to their hearts' content. they took no special notice of ulrich, and after having stared sufficiently and exchanged a few words with him, continued their interrupted game of trying to throw stones over the church roof. meantime ulrich looked at his comrades. there were large and small, fair and dark lads among them, but not one with whom he could not have coped. to this point his scrutiny was first directed. at last he turned his attention to the game. many of the stones, that had been thrown, struck the slates on the roof; not one had passed over the church. the longer the unsuccessful efforts lasted, the more evident became the superior smile on ulrich's lips, the faster his heart throbbed. his eyes searched the grass, and when he had discovered a flat, sharp-edged stone, he hurriedly stooped, pressed silently into the ranks of the players, and bending the upper part of his body far back, summoned all his strength, and hurled the stone in a beautiful curve high into the air. forty sparkling eyes followed it, and a loud shout of joy rang out as it vanished behind the church roof. one alone, a tall, thin, black-haired lad, remained silent, and while the others were begging ulrich to throw again, searched for a stone, exerted all his power to equal the 11 "greenhorn," and almost succeeded. ulrich now sent a second stone after the first, and, again the cast was successful. dark-browed xaver instantly seized a new missile, and the contest that now followed so engrossed the attention of all, that they saw and heard nothing until a deep voice, in a firm, though not unkind tone, called: "stop, boys! no games must be played with the church." at these words the younger boys hastily dropped the stones they had gathered, for the man who had shouted, was no less a personage than the lord abbot himself. soon the lads approached to kiss the ecclesiastic's hand or sleeve, and the stately priest, who understood how to guide those subject to him by a glance of his dark eyes, graciously and kindly accepted the salutation. "grave in office, and gay in sport" was his device. count von frohlinger, who had entered the garden with him, looked like one whose motto runs: "never grave and always gay." the nobleman had not grown younger since ulrich's mother fled into the world, but his eyes still sparkled joyously and the brick-red hue that tinged his handsome face between his thick white moustache and his eyes, announced that he was no less friendly to wine than to fair women. how well his satin clothes and velvet cloak became him, how beautifully the white puffs were relieved against the deep blue of his dress! how proudly the white and yellow plumes arched over his cap, and how delicate were the laces on his collar and cuffs! his son, the very image of the handsome father, stood beside him, and the count had laid his hand familiarly on his shoulder, as if he were not his child, but a friend and comrade. "a devil of a fellow!" whispered the count to the abbot. "did you see the fair-haired lad's throw? from what house does the young noble come?" the prelate shrugged his shoulders, and answered smiling: "from the smithy at richtberg." "does he belong to adam?" laughed the other. "zounds! i had a bitter hour in the confessional on his mother's account. he has inherited the beautiful florette's hair and eyes; otherwise he looks like his father. with your permission, my lord abbot, i'll call the boy." "afterwards, afterwards," replied the superior of the monastery in a tone of friendly denial, which permitted no contradiction. "first tell the boys, what we have decided?" count frohlinger bowed respectfully, then drew his son closer to his side, and waited for the boys, to whom the abbot beckoned. as soon as they had gathered in a group before him, the nobleman exclaimed: "you have just bid this good-for-nothing farewell. what should you say, if i left him among you till christmas? the lord abbot will keep him, and you, you...." but he had no time to finish the sentence. the pupils rushed upon him, shouting: "stay here, philipp! count lips must stay!" one little flaxen-headed fellow nestled closely to his regained protector, another kissed the count's hand, and two larger boys seized philipp by the arm and tried to drag him away from his father, back into their circle. the abbot looked on at the tumult kindly, and bright tear-drops ran down into the old count's beard, for his heart was easily touched. when he recovered his composure, he exclaimed: "lips shall stay, you rogues; he shall stay! and the lord abbot has given you permission, to come with me to-day to my hunting-box and light a st. john's fire. there shall be no lack of cakes and wine." "hurrah! hurrah! long live the count!" shouted the pupils, and all who had caps tossed them into the air. ulrich was carried away by the enthusiasm of the others; and all the evil words his father had so lavishly heaped on the handsome, merry gentleman--all hangemarx's abuse of knights and nobles were forgotten. the abbot and his companion withdrew, but as soon as the boys knew that they were unobserved, count lips cried: "you fellow yonder, you greenhorn, threw the stone over the roof. i saw it. come here. over the roof? that should be my right. whoever breaks the first window in the steeple, shall be victor." the smith's son felt embarrassed, for he shrank from the mischief and feared his father and the abbot. but when the young count held out his closed hands, saying: "if you choose the red stone, you shall throw first," he pointed to his companion's right hand, and, as it concealed the red pebble, began the contest. he threw the stone, and struck the window. amid loud shouts of exultation from the boys, more than one round pane of glass, loosened from the leaden casing, rattled in broken fragments on the church roof, and from thence fell silently on the grass. count lips laughed aloud in his delight, and was preparing to follow ulrich's example, but the wooden gate was pushed violently open, and brother hieronymus, the most severe of all the monks, appeared in the playground. the zealous priest's cheeks glowed with anger, terrible were the threats he uttered, and declaring that the festival of st. john should not be celebrated, unless the shameless wretch, who had blasphemously shattered the steeple window, confessed his fault, he scanned the pupils with rolling eyes. young count lips stepped boldly forward, saying beseechingly: "i did it, father--unintentionally! forgive me!" "you?" asked the monk, his voice growing lower and more gentle, as he continued: "folly and wantonness without end! when will you learn discretion, count philipp? but as you did it unintentionally, i will let it pass for to-day." with these words, the monk left the court-yard; and as soon as the gate had closed behind him, ulrich approached his generous companion, and said in a tone that only he could hear, yet grateful to the inmost depths of his heart: "i will repay you some day." "nonsense!" laughed the young count, throwing his arm over the shoulder of the artisan's son. "if the glass wouldn't rattle, i would throw now; but there's another day coming to-morrow." chapter vii. autumn had come. the yellow leaves were fluttering about the school play-ground, the starlings were gathering in flocks on the church roof to take their departure, and ulrich would fain have gone with them, no matter where. he could not feel at home in the monastery and among his companions. always first in richtberg, he was rarely so here, most seldom of all in school, for his father had forbidden the doctor to teach him latin, so in that study he was last of all. often, when every one was asleep, the poor lad sat studying by the everburning lamp in the lobby, but in vain. he could not come up with the others, and the unpleasant feeling of remaining behind, in spite of the most honest effort, spoiled his life and made him irritable. his comrades did not spare him, and when they called him "horse-boy," because he was often obliged to help pater benedictus in bringing refractory horses to reason, he flew into a rage and used his superior strength. he stood on the worst terms of all with black-haired xaver, to whom he owed the nickname. this boy's father was the chief magistrate of the little city, and was allowed to take his son home with him at michaelmas. when the black-haired lad returned, he had many things to tell, gathered from half-understood rumor, about ulrich's parents. words were now uttered, that brought the blood to ulrich's cheeks, yet he intentionally pretended not to hear them, because he dared not contradict tales that might be true. he well knew who had brought all these stories to the others, and answered xaver's malicious spite with open enmity. count lips did not trouble himself about any of these things, but remained ulrich's most intimate friend, and was fond of going with him to see the horses. his vivacious intellect joyously sympathized with the smith's son, when he told him about ruth's imaginary visions, and often in the play-ground he went apart with ulrich from their companions; but this very circumstance was a thing that many, who had formerly been on more intimate terms with the aristocratic boy, were not disposed to forgive the new-comer. xaver had never been friendly to the count's son, and succeeded in irritating many against their former favorite, because he fancied himself better than they, and still more against ulrich, who was half a servant, yet presumed to play the master and offer them violence. the monks employed in the school soon noticed the ill terms, on which the new pupil stood with his companions, and did not lack reasons for shaking their heads over him. benedictus had not been able to conceal, who had been ulrich's teacher in richtberg; and the seeds the jew had planted in the boy, seemed to be bearing strange and vexatious fruit. father hieronymus, who instructed the pupils in religion, fairly raged, when he spoke of the destructive doctrines, that haunted the new scholar's head. when, soon after ulrich's reception into the school, he had spoken of christ's work of redemption, and asked the boy: "from what is the world to be delivered by the saviour's suffering?" the answer was: "from the arrogance of the rich and great." hieronymus had spoken of the holy sacraments, and put the question: "by what means can the christian surely obtain mercy, unless he bolts the door against it--that is, commits a mortal sin?" and ulrich's answer was: "by doing unto others, what you would have others do unto you." such strange words might be heard by dozens from the boy's lips. some were repeated from hangemarx's sayings, others from the doctor's; and when asked where he obtained them, he quoted only the latter, for the monks were not to be allowed to know anything about his intercourse with the poacher. sharp reproofs and severe penances were now bestowed, for many a word that he had thought beautiful and pleasing in the sight of god; and the poor, tortured young soul often knew no help in its need. he could not turn to the dear god and the saviour, whom he was said to have blasphemed, for he feared them; but when he could no longer bear his grief, discouragement, and yearning, he prayed to the madonna for help. the image of the unhappy woman, about whom he had heard nothing but ill words, who had deserted him, and whose faithlessness gave the other boys a right to jeer at him, floated before his eyes, with that of the pure, holy virgin in the church, brought by father lukas from italy. in spite of all the complaints about him, which were carried to the abbot, the latter thought him a misguided, but good and promising boy, an opinion strengthened by the music-teacher and the artist lukas, whose best pupil ulrich was; but they also were enraged against the jew, who had lured this nobly-gifted child along the road of destruction; and often urged the abbot, who was anything but a zealot, to subject him to an examination by torture. in november, the chief magistrate was summoned, and informed of the heresies with which the hebrew had imperiled the soul of a christian child. the wise abbot wished to avoid anything, that would cause excitement, during this time of rebellion against the power of the church, but the magistrate claimed the right to commence proceedings against the doctor. of course, he said, sufficient proof must be brought against the accused. father hieronymus might note down the blasphemous tenets he heard from the boy's lips before witnesses, and at the advent season the smith and his son would be examined. the abbot, who liked to linger over his books, was glad to know that the matter was in the hands of the civil authorities, and enjoined hieronymus to pay strict attention. on the third sunday in advent, the magistrate again came to the monastery. his horses had worked their way with the sleigh through the deep snow in the ravine with much difficulty, and, half-frozen, he went directly to the refectory and there asked for his son. the latter was lying with a bandaged eye in the cold dormitory, and when his father sought him, he heard that ulrich had wounded him. it would not have needed xaver's bitter complaints, to rouse his father to furious rage against the boy who had committed this violence, and he was by no means satisfied, when he learned that the culprit had been excluded for three weeks from the others' sports, and placed on a very frugal diet. he went furiously to the abbot. the day before (saturday), ulrich had gone at noon, without the young count, who was in confinement for some offence, to the snow-covered playground, where he was attacked by xaver and a dozen of his comrades, pushed into a snow-bank, and almost suffocated. the conspirators had stuffed icicles and snow under his clothes next his skin, taken off his shoes and filled them with snow, and meantime xaver jumped upon his back, pressing his face into the snow till ulrich lost his breath, and believed his last hour had come. exerting the last remnant of his strength, he had succeeded in throwing off and seizing his tormentor. while the others fled, he wreaked his rage on the magistrate's son to his heart's content, first with his fists, and then with the heavy shoe that lay beside him. meantime, snowballs had rained upon his body and head from all directions, increasing his fury; and as soon as xaver no longer struggled he started up, exclaiming with glowing cheeks and upraised fists: "wait, wait, you wicked fellows! the doctor in richtberg knows a word, by which he shall turn you all into toads and rats, you miserable rascals!" xaver had remembered this speech, which he repeated to his father, cleverly enlarged with many a false word. the abbot listened to the magistrate's complaint very quietly. the angry father was no sufficient witness for him, yet the matter seemed important enough to send for and question ulrich, though the meal-time had already begun. the jew had really spoken to his daughter about the magic word, and the pupil of the monastery had threatened his companions with it. so the investigation might begin. ulrich was led back to the prison-chamber, where some thin soup and bread awaited him, but he touched neither. food and drink disgusted him, and he could neither work nor sit still. the little bell, which, summoned all the occupants of the monastery, was heard at an unusual hour, and about vespers the sound of sleigh-bells attracted him to the window. the abbot and father hieronymus were talking in undertones to the magistrate, who was just preparing to enter his sleigh. they were speaking of him and the doctor, and the pupils had just been summoned to bear witness against him. no one had told him so, but he knew it, and was seized with such anxiety about the doctor, that drops of perspiration stood on his brow. he was clearly aware that he had mingled his teacher's words with the poacher's blasphemous sayings, and also that he had put the latter into the mouth of ruth's father. he was a traitor, a liar, a miserable scoundrel! he wished to go to the abbot and confess all, yet dared not, and so the hours stole away until the time for the evening mass. while in church he strove to pray, not only for himself but for the doctor, but in vain, he could think of nothing but the trial, and while kneeling with his hands over his eyes, saw the jew in fetters before him, and he himself at the trial in the town-hall. at last the mass ended. ulrich rose. just before him hung the large crucifix, and the saviour on the cross, who with his head bowed on one side, usually gazed so gently and mournfully upon the ground, to-day seemed to look at him with mingled reproach and accusation. in the dormitory, his companions avoided him as if he had the plague, but he scarcely noticed it. the moonlight and the reflection from the snow shone brightly through the little window, but ulrich longed for darkness, and buried his face in the pillows. the clock in the steeple struck ten. he raised himself and listened to the deep breathing of the sleepers on his right and left, and the gnawing of a mouse under the bed. his heart throbbed faster and more anxiously, but suddenly seemed to stand still, for a low voice had called his name. "ulrich!" it whispered again, and the young count, who lay beside him, rose in bed and bent towards him. ulrich had told him about the word, and often indulged in wishes with him, as he had formerly done with ruth. philipp now whispered: "they are going to attack the doctor. the abbot and magistrate questioned us, as if it were a matter of life and death. i kept what i know about the word to myself, for i'm sorry for the jew, but xaver, spiteful fellow, made it appear as if you really possessed the spell, and just now he came to me and said his father would seize the jew early to-morrow morning, and then he would be tortured. whether they will hang or burn him is the question. his life is forfeited, his father said--and the black-visaged rascal rejoiced over it." "sileutium, turbatores!" cried the sleepy voice of the monk in charge, and the boys hastily drew back into the feathers and were silent. the young count soon fell asleep again, but ulrich buried his head still deeper among the pillows; it seemed as if he saw the mild, thoughtful face of the man, from whom he had received so much affection, gazing reproachfully at him; then the dumb wife appeared before his mind, and he fancied her soft hand was lovingly stroking his cheeks as usual. ruth also appeared, not in the yellow silk dress, but clad in rags of a beggar, and she wept, hiding her face in her mother's lap. he groaned aloud. the clock struck eleven. he rose and listened. nothing stirred, and slipping on his clothes, he took his shoes in his hand and tried to open the window at the head of his bed. it had stood open during the day, but the frost fastened it firmly to the frame. ulrich braced his foot against the wall and pulled with all his strength, but it resisted one jerk after another; at last it suddenly yielded and flew open, making a slight creaking and rattling, but the monk on guard did not wake, only murmured softly in his sleep. the boy stood motionless for a time, holding his breath, then swung himself upon the parapet and looked out. the dormitory was in the second story of the monastery, above the rampart, but a huge bank of snow rose beside the wall, and this strengthened his courage. with hurrying fingers he made the sign of the cross, a low: "mary, pray for me," rose from his lips, then he shut his eyes and risked the leap. there was a buzzing, roaring sound in his ears, his mother's image blended in strange distortion with the jew's, then an icy sea swallowed him, and it seemed as if body and soul were frozen. but this sensation overpowered him only a few minutes, then working his way out of the mass of snow, he drew on his shoes, and dashed as if pursued by a pack of wolves, down the mountain, through the ravine, across the heights, and finally along the river to the city and the richtberg. etext editor's bookmarks: he was steadfast in everything, even anger this ebook was produced by david widger <widger@cecomet.net> [note: there is a short list of bookmarks, or pointers, at the end of the file for those who may wish to sample the author's ideas before making an entire meal of them. d.w.] homo sum by georg ebers volume 1. translated by clara bell preface. in the course of my labors preparatory to writing a history of the sinaitic peninsula, the study of the first centuries of christianity for a long time claimed my attention; and in the mass of martyrology, of ascetic writings, and of histories of saints and monks, which it was necessary to work through and sift for my strictly limited object, i came upon a narrative (in cotelerius ecclesiae grecae monumenta) which seemed to me peculiar and touching notwithstanding its improbability. sinai and the oasis of pharan which lies at its foot were the scene of action. when, in my journey through arabia petraea, i saw the caves of the anchorites of sinai with my own eyes and trod their soil with my own feet, that story recurred to my mind and did not cease to haunt me while i travelled on farther in the desert. a soul's problem of the most exceptional type seemed to me to be offered by the simple course of this little history. an anchorite, falsely accused instead of another, takes his punishment of expulsion on himself without exculpating himself, and his innocence becomes known only through the confession of the real culprit. there was a peculiar fascination in imagining what the emotions of a soul might be which could lead to such apathy, to such an annihilation of all sensibility; and while the very deeds and thoughts of the strange cavedweller grew more and more vivid in my mind the figure of paulus took form, as it were as an example, and soon a crowd of ideas gathered round it, growing at last to a distinct entity, which excited and urged me on till i ventured to give it artistic expression in the form of a narrative. i was prompted to elaborate this subject--which had long been shaping itself to perfect conception in my mind as ripe material for a romance--by my readings in coptic monkish annals, to which i was led by abel's coptic studies; and i afterwards received a further stimulus from the small but weighty essay by h. weingarten on the origin of monasticism, in which i still study the early centuries of christianity, especially in egypt. this is not the place in which to indicate the points on which i feel myself obliged to differ from weingarten. my acute fellow-laborer at breslau clears away much which does not deserve to remain, but in many parts of his book he seems to me to sweep with too hard a broom. easy as it would have been to lay the date of my story in the beginning of the fortieth year of the fourth century instead of the thirtieth, i have forborne from doing so because i feel able to prove with certainty that at the time which i have chosen there were not only heathen recluses in the temples of serapis but also christian anchorites; i fully agree with him that the beginnings of organized christian monasticism can in no case be dated earlier than the year 350. the paulus of my story must not be confounded with the "first hermit," paulus of thebes, whom weingarten has with good reason struck out of the category of historical personages. he, with all the figures in this narrative is a purely fictitious person, the vehicle for an idea, neither more nor less. i selected no particular model for my hero, and i claim for him no attribute but that of his having been possible at the period; least of all did i think of saint anthony, who is now deprived even of his distinguished biographer athanasius, and who is represented as a man of very sound judgment but of so scant an education that he was master only of egyptian. the dogmatic controversies which were already kindled at the time of my story i have, on careful consideration, avoided mentioning. the dwellers on sinai and in the oasis took an eager part in them at a later date. that mount sinai to which i desire to transport the reader must not be confounded with the mountain which lies at a long day's journey to the south of it. it is this that has borne the name, at any rate since the time of justinian; the celebrated convent of the transfiguration lies at its foot, and it has been commonly accepted as the sinai of scripture. in the description of my journey through arabia petraea i have endeavored to bring fresh proof of the view, first introduced by lepsius, that the giant-mountain, now called serbal, must be regarded as the mount on which the law was given--and was indeed so regarded before the time of justinian--and not the sinai of the monks. as regards the stone house of the senator petrus, with its windows opening on the street--contrary to eastern custom--i may remark, in anticipation of well founded doubts, that to this day wonderfully wellpreserved fire-proof walls stand in the oasis of pharan, the remains of a pretty large number of similar buildings. but these and such external details hold a quite secondary place in this study of a soul. while in my earlier romances the scholar was compelled to make concessions to the poet and the poet to the scholar, in this one i have not attempted to instruct, nor sought to clothe the outcome of my studies in forms of flesh and blood; i have aimed at absolutely nothing but to give artistic expression to the vivid realization of an idea that had deeply stirred my soul. the simple figures whose inmost being i have endeavored to reveal to the reader fill the canvas of a picture where, in the dark background, rolls the flowing ocean of the world's history. the latin title was suggested to me by an often used motto which exactly agrees with the fundamental view to which i have been led by my meditations on the mind and being of man; even of those men who deem that they have climbed the very highest steps of that stair which leads into the heavens. in the heautontimorumenos of terence, chremes answers his neighbor menedemus (act i, sc. i, v. 25) "homo sum; humani nil a me alienum puto," which donner translates literally: "i am human, nothing that is human can i regard as alien to me." but cicero and seneca already used this line as a proverb, and in a sense which far transcends that which it would seem to convey in context with the passage whence it is taken; and as i coincide with them, i have transferred it to the title-page of this book with this meaning: "i am a man; and i feel that i am above all else a man." leipzig, november 11, 1877. georg ebers. homo sum. chapter i. rocks-naked, hard, red-brown rocks all round; not a bush, not a blade, not a clinging moss such as elsewhere nature has lightly flung on the rocky surface of the heights, as if a breath of her creative life had softly touched the barren stone. nothing but smooth granite, and above it a sky as bare of cloud as the rocks are of shrubs and herbs. and yet in every cave of the mountain wall there moves a human life; two small grey birds too float softly in the pure, light air of the desert that glows in the noonday sun, and then they vanish behind a range of cliffs, which shuts in the deep gorge as though it were a wall built by man. there it is pleasant enough, for a spring bedews the stony soil and there, as wherever any moisture touches the desert, aromatic plants thrive, and umbrageous bushes grow. when osiris embraced the goddess of the desert--so runs the egyptian myth--he left his green wreath on her couch. but at the time and in the sphere where our history moves the old legends are no longer known or are ignored. we must carry the reader back to the beginning of the thirtieth year of the fourth century after the birth of the saviour, and away to the mountains of sinai on whose sacred ground solitary anchorites have for some few years been dwelling--men weary of the world, and vowed to penitence, but as yet without connection or rule among themselves. near the spring in the little ravine of which we have spoken grows a many-branched feathery palm, but it does not shelter it from the piercing rays of the sun of those latitudes; it seems only to protect the roots of the tree itself; still the feathered boughs are strong enough to support a small thread-bare blue cloth, which projects like a penthouse, screening the face of a girl who lies dreaming, stretched at full-length on the glowing stones, while a few yellowish mountain-goats spring from stone to stone in search of pasture as gaily as though they found the midday heat pleasant and exhilarating. from time to time the girl seizes the herdsman's crook that lies beside her, and calls the goats with a hissing cry that is audible at a considerable distance. a young kid comes dancing up to her. few beasts can give expression to their feelings of delight; but young goats can. the girl puts out her bare slim foot, and playfully pushes back the little kid who attacks her in fun, pushes it again and again each time it skips forward, and in so doing the shepherdess bends her toes as gracefully as if she wished some looker-on to admire their slender form. once more the kid springs forward, and this time with its bead down. its brow touches the sole of her foot, but as it rubs its little hooked nose tenderly against the girl's foot, she pushes it back so violently that the little beast starts away, and ceases its game with loud bleating. it was just as if the girl had been waiting for the right moment to hit the kid sharply; for the kick was a hard one-almost a cruel one. the blue cloth hid the face of the maiden, but her eyes must surely have sparkled brightly when she so roughly stopped the game. for a minute she remained motionless; but the cloth, which had fallen low over her face, waved gently to and fro, moved by her fluttering breath. she was listening with eager attention, with passionate expectation; her convulsively clenched toes betrayed her. then a noise became audible; it came from the direction of the rough stair of unhewn blocks, which led from the steep wall of the ravine down to the spring. a shudder of terror passed through the tender, and not yet fully developed limbs of the shepherdess; still she did not move; the grey birds which were now sitting on a thorn-bush near her flew up, but they had merely heard a noise, and could not distinguish who it was that it announced. the shepherdess's ear was sharper than theirs. she heard that a man was approaching, and well knew that one only trod with such a step. she put out her hand for a stone that lay near her, and flung it into the spring so that the waters immediately became troubled; then she turned on her side, and lay as if asleep with her head on her arm. the heavy steps became more and more distinctly audible. a tall youth was descending the rocky stair; by his dress he was seen to be one of the anchorites of sinai, for he wore nothing but a shirt-shaped garment of coarse linen, which he seemed to have outgrown, and raw leather sandals, which were tied on to his feet with fibrous palm-bast. no slave could be more poorly clothed by his owner and yet no one would have taken him for a bondman, for he walked erect and self-possessed. he could not be more than twenty years of age; that was evident in the young soft hair on his upper lip, chin, and cheeks; but in his large blue eyes there shone no light of youth, only discontent, and his lips were firmly closed as if in defiance. he now stood still, and pushed back from his forehead the superabundant and unkempt brown hair that flowed round his head like a lion's mane; then he approached the well, and as he stooped to draw the water in the large dried gourd-shell which he held, he observed first that the spring was muddy, and then perceived the goats, and at last their sleeping mistress. he impatiently set down the vessel and called the girl loudly, but she did not move till he touched her somewhat roughly with his foot. then she sprang up as if stung by an asp, and two eyes as black as night flashed at him out of her dark young face; the delicate nostrils of her aquiline nose quivered, and her white teeth gleamed as she cried: "am i a dog that you wake me in this fashion?" he colored, pointed sullenly to the well and said sharply: "your cattle have troubled the water again; i shall have to wait here till it is clear and i can draw some." "the day is long," answered the shepherdess, and while she rose she pushed, as if by chance, another stone into the water. her triumphant, flashing glance as she looked down into the troubled spring did not escape the young man, and he exclaimed angrily: "he is right! you are a venomous snake--a demon of hell." she raised herself and made a face at him, as if she wished to show him that she really was some horrible fiend; the unusual sharpness of her mobile and youthful features gave her a particular facility for doing so. and she fully attained her end, for he drew back with a look of horror, stretched out his arms to repel her, and exclaimed as he saw her uncontrollable laughter, "back, demon, back! in the name of the lord! i ask thee, who art thou?" "i am miriam--who else should i be?" she answered haughtily. he had expected a different reply, her vivacity annoyed him, and he said angrily, "whatever your name is you are a fiend, and i will ask paulus to forbid you to water your beasts at our well." "you might run to your nurse, and complain of me to her if you had one," she answered, pouting her lips contemptuously at him. he colored; she went on boldly, and with eager play of gesture. "you ought to be a man, for you are strong and big, but you let yourself be kept like a child or a miserable girl; your only business is to hunt for roots and berries, and fetch water in that wretched thing there. i have learned to do that ever since i was as big as that!" and she indicated a contemptibly little measure, with the outstretched pointed fingers of her two hands, which were not less expressively mobile than her features. "phoh! you are stronger and taller than all the amalekite lads down there, but you never try to measure yourself with them in shooting with a bow and arrows or in throwing a spear!" "if i only dared as much as i wish!" he interrupted, and flaming scarlet mounted to his face, "i would be a match for ten of those lean rascals." "i believe you," replied the girl, and her eager glance measured the youth's broad breast and muscular arms with an expression of pride. "i believe you, but why do you not dare? are you the slave of that man up there?" "he is my father and besides--" "what besides?" she cried, waving her hand as if to wave away a bat. "if no bird ever flew away from the nest there would be a pretty swarm in it. look at my kids there--as long as they need their mother they run about after her, but as soon as they can find their food alone they seek it wherever they can find it, and i can tell you the yearlings there have quite forgotten whether they sucked the yellow dam or the brown one. and what great things does your father do for you?" "silence!" interrupted the youth with excited indignation. "the evil one speaks through thee. get thee from me, for i dare not hear that which i dare not utter." "dare, dare, dare!" she sneered. "what do you dare then? not even to listen!" "at any rate not to what you have to say, you goblin!" he exclaimed vehemently. "your voice is hateful to me, and if i meet you again by the well i will drive you away with stones." while he spoke thus she stared speechless at him, the blood had left her lips, and she clenched her small hands. he was about to pass her to fetch some water, but she stepped into his path, and held him spell-bound with the fixed gaze of her eyes. a cold chill ran through him when she asked him with trembling lips and a smothered voice, "what harm have i done you?" "leave me!" said he, and he raised his hand to push her away from the water. "you shall not touch me," she cried beside herself. "what harm have i done you?" "you know nothing of god," he answered, "and he who is not of god is of the devil." "you do not say that of yourself," answered she, and her voice recovered its tone of light mockery. "what they let you believe pulls the wires of your tongue just as a hand pulls the strings of a puppet. who told you that i was of the devil?" "why should i conceal it from you?" he answered proudly. "our pious paulus, warned me against you and i will thank him for it. 'the evil one,' he says, 'looks out of your eyes,' and he is right, a thousand times right. when you look at me i feel as if i could tread every thing that is holy under foot; only last night again i dreamed i was whirling in a dance with you--" at these words all gravity and spite vanished from miriam's eyes; she clapped her hands and cried, "if it had only been the fact and not a dream! only do not be frightened again, you fool! do you know then what it is when the pipes sound, and the lutes tinkle, and our feet fly round in circles as if they had wings?" "the wings of satan," hermas interrupted sternly. "you are a demon, a hardened heathen." "so says our pious paulus," laughed the girl. "so say i too," cried the young man. "who ever saw you in the assemblies of the just? do you pray? do you ever praise the lord and our saviour?" "and what should i praise them for?" asked miriam. "because i am regarded as a foul fiend by the most pious among you perhaps?" "but it is because you are a sinner that heaven denies you its blessing." "no--no, a thousand times no!" cried miriam. "no god has ever troubled himself about me. and if i am not good, why should i be when nothing but evil ever has fallen to my share? do you know who i am and how i became so? i was wicked, perhaps, when both my parents were slain in their pilgrimage hither? why, i was then no more than six years old, and what is a child of that age? but still i very well remember that there were many camels grazing near our house, and horses too that belonged to us, and that on a hand that often caressed me--it was my mother's hand--a large jewel shone. i had a black slave too that obeyed me; when she and i did not agree i used to hang on to her grey woolly hair and beat her. who knows what may have become of her? i did not love her, but if i had her now, how kind i would be to her. and now for twelve years i myself have eaten the bread of servitude, and have kept senator petrus's goats, and if i ventured to show myself at a festival among the free maidens, they would turn me out and pull the wreath out of my hair. and am i to be thankful? what for, i wonder? and pious? what god has taken any care of me? call me an evil demon--call me so! but if petrus and your paulus there say that he who is up above us and who let me grow up to such a lot is good, they tell a lie. god is cruel, and it is just like him to put it into your heart to throw stones and scare me away from your well." with these words she burst out into bitter sobs, and her features worked with various and passionate distortion. hermas felt compassion for the weeping miriam. he had met her a hundred times and she had shown herself now haughty, now discontented, now exacting and now wrathful, but never before soft or sad. to-day, for the first time, she had opened her heart to him; the tears which disfigured her countenance gave her character a value which it had never before had in his eyes, and when he saw her weak and unhappy he felt ashamed of his hardness. he went up to her kindly and said: "you need not cry; come to the well again always, i will not prevent you." his deep voice sounded soft and kind as he spoke, but she sobbed more passionately than before, almost convulsively, and she tried to speak but she could not. trembling in every slender limb, shaken with grief, and overwhelmed with sorrow, the slight shepherdess stood before him, and he felt as if he must help her. his passionate pity cut him to the heart and fettered his by no means ready tongue. as he could find no word of comfort, he took the water-gourd in his left hand and laid his right, in which he had hitherto held it, gently on her shoulder. she started, but she let him do it; he felt her warm breath; he would have drawn back, but he felt as if he could not; he hardly knew whether she was crying or laughing while she let his hand rest on her black waving hair. she did not move. at last she raised her head, her eyes flashed into his, and at the same instant he felt two slender arms clasped round his neck. he felt as if a sea were roaring in his ears, and fire blazing in his eyes. a nameless anguish seized him; he tore himself violently free, and with a loud cry as if all the spirits of hell were after him he fled up the steps that led from the well, and heeded not that his water-jar was shattered into a thousand pieces against the rocky wall. she stood looking after him as if spell-bound. then she struck her slender hand against her forehead, threw herself down by the spring again and stared into space; there she lay motionless, only her mouth continued to twitch. when the shadow of the palm-tree grew longer she sprang up, called her goats, and looked up, listening, to the rock-steps by which he had vanished; the twilight is short in the neighborhood of the tropics, and she knew that she would be overtaken by the darkness on the stony and fissured road down the valley if she lingered any longer. she feared the terrors of the night, the spirits and demons, and a thousand vague dangers whose nature she could not have explained even to herself; and yet she did not stir from the spot nor cease listening and waiting for his return till the sun had disappeared behind the sacred mountain, and the glow in the west had paled. all around was as still as death, she could hear herself breathe, and as the evening chill fell she shuddered with cold. she now heard a loud noise above her head. a flock of wild mountain goats, accustomed to come at this hour to quench their thirst at the spring, came nearer and nearer, but drew back as they detected the presence of a human being. only the leader of the herd remained standing on the brink of the ravine, and she knew that he was only awaiting her departure to lead the others down to drink. following a kindly impulse, she was on the point of leaving to make way for the animals, when she suddenly recollected hermas's threat to drive her from the well, and she angrily picked up a stone and flung it at the buck, which started and hastily fled. the whole herd followed him. miriam listened to them as they scampered away, and then, with her head sunk, she led her flock home, feeling her way in the darkness with her bare feet. chapter ii. high above the ravine where the spring was lay a level plateau of moderate extent, and behind it rose a fissured cliff of bare, red-brown porphyry. a vein of diorite of iron-hardness lay at its foot like a green ribbon, and below this there opened a small round cavern, hollowed and arched by the cunning hand of nature. in former times wild beasts, panthers or wolves, had made it their home; it now served as a dwelling for young hermas and his father. many similar caves were to be found in the holy fountain, and other anchorites had taken possession of the larger ones among them. that of stephanus was exceptionally high and deep, and yet the space was but small which divided the two beds of dried mountain herbs where, on one, slept the father, and on the other, the son. it was long past midnight, but neither the younger nor the elder cavedweller seemed to be sleeping. hermas groaned aloud and threw himself vehemently from one side to the other without any consideration for the old man who, tormented with pain and weakness, sorely needed sleep. stephanus meanwhile denied himself the relief of turning over or of sighing, when he thought he perceived that his more vigorous son had found rest. "what could have robbed him of his rest, the boy who usually slept so soundly, and was so hard to waken?" "whence comes it," thought stephanus, "that the young and strong sleep so soundly and so much, and the old, who need rest, and even the sick, sleep so lightly and so little. is it that wakefulness may prolong the little term of life, of which they dread the end? how is it that man clings so fondly to this miserable existence, and would fain slink away, and hide himself when the angel calls and the golden gates open before him! we are like saul, the hebrew, who hid himself when they came to him with the crown! my wound burns painfully; if only i had a drink of water. if the poor child were not so sound asleep i might ask him for the jar." stephanus listened to his son and would not wake him, when he heard his heavy and regular breathing. he curled himself up shivering under the sheep-skin which covered only half his body, for the icy night wind now blew through the opening of the cave, which by day was as hot as an oven. some long minutes wore away; at last he thought he perceived that hermas had raised himself. yes, the sleeper must have wakened, for he began to speak, and to call on the name of god. the old man turned to his son and began softly, "do you hear me, my boy?" "i cannot sleep," answered the youth. "then give me something to drink," asked stephanus, "my wound burns intolerably." hermas rose at once, and reached the water-jar to the sufferer. "thanks, thanks, my child," said the old man, feeling for the neck of the jar. but he could not find it, and exclaimed with surprise: "how damp and cold it is--this is clay, and our jar was a gourd." "i have broken it," interrupted hermas, "and paulus lent me his." "well, well," said stephanus anxious for drink; he gave the jar back to his son, and waited till he had stretched himself again on his couch. then he asked anxiously: "you were out a long time this evening, the gourd is broken, and you groaned in your sleep. whom did you meet?" "a demon of hell," answered hermas. "and now the fiend pursues me into our cave, and torments me in a variety of shapes." "drive it out then and pray," said the old man gravely. "unclean spirits flee at the name of god." "i have called upon him," sighed hermas, "but in vain; i see women with ruddy lips and flowing hair, and white marble figures with rounded limbs and flashing eyes beckon to me again and again." "then take the scourge," ordered the father, "and so win peace." hermas once more obediently rose, and went out into the air with the scourge; the narrow limits of the cave did not admit of his swinging it with all the strength of his arms. very soon stephanus heard the whistle of the leathern thongs through the stillness of the night, their hard blows on the springy muscles of the man and his son's painful groaning. at each blow the old man shrank as if it had fallen on himself. at last he cried as loud as he was able "enough--that is enough." hermas came back into the cave, his father called him to his couch, and desired him to join with him in prayer. after the 'amen' he stroked the lad's abundant hair and said, "since you went to alexandria, you have been quite another being. i would i had withstood bishop agapitus, and forbidden you the journey. soon, i know, my saviour will call me to himself, and no one will keep you here; then the tempter will come to you, and all the splendors of the great city, which after all only shine like rotten wood, like shining snakes and poisonous purple-berries--" "i do not care for them," interrupted hermas, "the noisy place bewildered and frightened me. never, never will i tread the spot again." "so you have always said," replied stephanus, "and yet the journey quite altered you. how often before that i used to think when i heard you laugh that the sound must surely please our father in heaven. and now? you used to be like a singing bird, and now you go about silent, you look sour and morose, and evil thoughts trouble your sleep." "that is my loss," answered hermas. "pray let go of my hand; the night will soon be past, and you have the whole live-long day to lecture me in." stephanus sighed, and hermas returned to his couch. sleep avoided them both, and each knew that the other was awake, and would willingly have spoken to him, but dissatisfaction and defiance closed the son's lips, and the father was silent because he could not find exactly the heart-searching words that he was seeking. at last it was morning, a twilight glimmer struck through the opening of the cave, and it grew lighter and lighter in the gloomy vault; the boy awoke and rose yawning. when he saw his father lying with his eyes open, he asked indifferently, "shall i stay here or go to morning worship?" "let us pray here together," begged the father. "who knows how long it may yet be granted to us to do so? i am not far from the day that no evening ever closes. kneel down here, and let me kiss the image of the crucified." hermas did as his father desired him, and as they were ending their song of praise, a third voice joined in the 'amen.' "paulus!" cried the old man. "the lord be praised! pray look to my wound then. the arrow head seeks to work some way out, and it burns fearfully." "the new comer, an anchorite, who for all clothing wore a shirt-shaped coat of brown undressed linen, and a sheep-skin, examined the wound carefully, and laid some herbs on it, murmuring meanwhile some pious texts. "that is much easier," sighed the old man. "the lord has mercy on me for your goodness' sake." "my goodness? i am a vessel of wrath," replied paulus, with a deep, rich; sonorous voice, and his peculiarly kind blue eyes were raised to heaven as if to attest how greatly men were deceived in him. then he pushed the bushy grizzled hair, which hung in disorder over his neck and face, out of his eyes, and said cheerfully: "no man is more than man, and many men are less. in the ark there were many beasts, but only one noah." "you are the noah of our little ark," replied stephanus. "then this great lout here is the elephant," laughed paulus. "you are no smaller than he," replied stephanus. "it is a pity this stone roof is so low, else we might have measured ourselves," said paulus. "aye! if hermas and i were as pious and pure as we are tall and strong, we should both have the key of paradise in our pockets. you were scourging yourself this night, boy; i heard the blows. it is well; if the sinful flesh revolts, thus we may subdue it." "he groaned heavily and could not sleep," said stephanus. "aye, did he indeed!" cried paulus to the youth, and held his powerful arms out towards him with clenched fists; but the threatening voice was loud rather than terrible, and wild as the exceptionally big man looked in his sheepskin, there was such irresistible kindliness in his gaze and in his voice, that no one could have believed that his wrath was in earnest. "fiends of hell had met him," said stephanus in excuse for his son, "and i should not have closed an eye even without his groaning; it is the fifth night." "but in the sixth," said paulus, "sleep is absolutely necessary. put on your sheep-skin, hermas; you must go down to the oasis to the senator petrus, and fetch a good sleeping-draught for our sick man from him or from dame dorothea, the deaconess. just look! the youngster has really thought of his father's breakfast--one's own stomach is a good reminder. only put the bread and the water down here by the couch; while you are gone i will fetch some fresh--now, come with me." "wait a minute, wait," cried stephanus. "bring a new jar with you from the town, my son. you lent us yours yesterday, paulus, and i must--" "i should soon have forgotten it," interrupted the other. "i have to thank the careless fellow, for i have now for the first time discovered the right way to drink, as long as one is well and able. i would not have the jar back for a measure of gold; water has no relish unless you drink it out of the hollow of your hand! the shard is yours. i should be warring against my own welfare, if i required it back. god be praised! the craftiest thief can now rob me of nothing save my sheepskin." stephanus would have thanked him, but he took hermas by the hand, and led him out into the open air. for some time the two men walked in silence over the clefts and boulders up the mountain side. when they had reached a plateau, which lay on the road that led from the sea over the mountain into the oasis, he turned to the youth, and said: "if we always considered all the results of our actions there would be no sins committed." hermas looked at him enquiringly, and paulus went on, "if it had occurred to you to think how sorely your poor father needed sleep, you would have lain still this night." "i could not," said the youth sullenly. "and you know very well that i scourged myself hard enough." "that was quite right, for you deserved a flogging for a misconducted boy." hermas looked defiantly at his reproving friend, the flaming color mounted to his cheek: for he remembered the shepherdess's words that he might go and complain to his nurse, and he cried out angrily: "i will not let any one speak to me so; i am no longer a child." "not even your father's?" asked paulus, and he looked at the boy with such an astonished and enquiring air, that hermas turned away his eyes in confusion. "it is not right at any rate to trouble the last remnant of life of that very man who longs to live for your sake only." "i should have been very willing to be still, for i love my father as well as any one else." "you do not beat him," replied paulus, "you carry him bread and water, and do not drink up the wine yourself, which the bishop sends him home from the lord's supper; that is something certainly, but not enough by a long way." "i am no saint!" "nor i neither," exclaimed paulus, "i am full of sin and weakness. but i know what the love is which was taught us by the saviour, and that you too may know. he suffered on the cross for you, and for me, and for all the poor and vile. love is at once the easiest and the most difficult of attainments. it requires sacrifice. and you? how long is it now since you last showed your father a cheerful countenance?" "i cannot be a hypocrite." "nor need you, but you must love. certainly it is not by what his hand does but by what his heart cheerfully offers, and by what he forces himself to give up that a man proves his love." "and is it no sacrifice that i waste all my youth here?" asked the boy. paulus stepped back from him a little way, shook his matted head, and said, "is that it? you are thinking of alexandria! ay! no doubt life runs away much quicker there than on our solitary mountain. you do not fancy the tawny shepherd girl, but perhaps some pretty pink and white greek maiden down there has looked into your eyes?" "let me alone about the women," answered hermas, with genuine annoyance. "there are other things to look at there." the youth's eyes sparkled as he spoke, and paulus asked, not without interest, "indeed?" "you know alexandria better than i," answered hermas evasively. "you were born there, and they say you had been a rich young man." "do they say so?" said paulus. "perhaps they are right; but you must know that i am glad that nothing any longer belongs to me of all the vanities that i possessed, and i thank my saviour that i can now turn my back on the turmoil of men. what was it that seemed to you so particularly tempting in all that whirl?" hermas hesitated. he feared to speak, and yet something urged and drove him to say out all that was stirring his soul. if any one of all those grave men who despised the world and among whom he had grown up, could ever understand him, he knew well that it would be paulus; paulus whose rough beard he had pulled when he was little, on whose shoulders he had often sat, and who had proved to him a thousand times how truly he loved him. it is true the alexandrian was the severest of them all, but he was harsh only to himself. hermas must once for all unburden his heart, and with sudden decision he asked the anchorite: "did you often visit the baths?" "often? i only wonder that i did not melt away and fall to pieces in the warm water like a wheaten loaf." "why do you laugh at that which makes men beautiful?" cried hermas hastily. "why may christians even visit the baths in alexandria, while we up here, you and my father and all anchorites, only use water to quench our thirst? you compel me to live like one of you, and i do not like being a dirty beast." "none can see us but the most high," answered paulus, "and for him we cleanse and beautify our souls." "but the lord gave us our body too," interrupted hermas. "it is written that man is the image of god. and we! i appeared to myself as repulsive as a hideous ape when at the great baths by the gate of the sun i saw the youths and men with beautifully arranged and scented hair and smooth limbs that shone with cleanliness and purification. and as they went past, and i looked at my mangy sheepfell, and thought of my wild mane and my arms and feet, which are no worse formed or weaker than theirs were, i turned hot and cold, and i felt as if some bitter drink were choking me. i should have liked to howl out with shame and envy and vexation. i will not be like a monster!" hermas ground his teeth as he spoke the last words, and paulus looked uneasily at him as he went on: "my body is god's as much as my soul is, and what is allowed to the christians in the city--" "that we nevertheless may not do," paulus interrupted gravely. "he who has once devoted himself to heaven must detach himself wholly from the charm of life, and break one tie after another that binds him to the dust. i too once upon a time have anointed this body, and smoothed this rough hair, and rejoiced sincerely over my mirror; but i say to you, hermas--and, by my dear saviour, i say it only because i feel it, deep in my heart i feel it--to pray is better than to bathe, and i, a poor wretch, have been favored with hours in which my spirit has struggled free, and has been permitted to share as an honored guest in the festal joys of heaven!" while he spoke, his wide open eyes had turned towards heaven and had acquired a wondrous brightness. for a short time the two stood opposite each other silent and motionless; at last the anchorite pushed the hair from off his brow, which was now for the first time visible. it was well-formed, though somewhat narrow, and its clear fairness formed a sharp contrast to his sunburnt face. "boy," he said with a deep breath, "you know not what joys you would sacrifice for the sake of worthless things. long ere the lord, calls the pious man to heaven, the pious has brought heaven down to earth in himself." hermas well understood what the anchorite meant, for his father often for hours at a time gazed up into heaven in prayer, neither seeing nor hearing what was going on around him, and was wont to relate to his son, when he awoke from his ecstatic vision, that he had seen the lord or heard the angel-choir. he himself had never succeeded in bringing himself into such a state, although stephanus had often compelled him to remain on his knees praying with him for many interminable hours. it often happened that the old man's feeble flame of life had threatened to become altogether extinct after these deeply soul-stirring exercises, and hermas would gladly have forbidden him giving himself up to such hurtful emotions, for he loved his father; but they were looked upon as special manifestations of grace, and how should a son dare to express his aversion to such peculiarly sacred acts? but to paulus and in his present mood he found courage to speak out. "i have sure hope of paradise," he said, "but it will be first opened to us after death. the christian should be patient; why can you not wait for heaven till the saviour calls you, instead of desiring to enjoy its pleasures here on earth? this first and that after! why should god have bestowed on us the gifts of the flesh if not that we may use them? beauty and strength are not empty trifles, and none but a fool gives noble gifts to another, only in order to throw them away." paulus gazed in astonishment at the youth, who up to this moment had always unresistingly obeyed his father and him, and he shook his head as he answered, "so think the children of this world who stand far from the most high. in the image of god are we made no doubt, but what child would kiss the image of his father, when the father offers him his own living lips?" paulus had meant to say 'mother' instead of 'father,' but he remembered in time that hermas had early lost the happiness of caressing a mother, and he had hastily amended the phrase. he was one of those to whom it is so painful to hurt another, that they never touch a wounded soul unless to heal it, divining the seat of even the most hidden pain. he was accustomed to speak but little, but now he went on eagerly: "by so much as god is far above our miserable selves, by so much is the contemplation of him worthier of the christian than that of his own person. oh! who is indeed so happy as to have wholly lost that self and to be perfectly absorbed in god! but it pursues us, and when the soul fondly thinks itself already blended in union with the most high it cries out 'here am i!' and drags our nobler part down again into the dust. it is bad enough that we must hinder the flight of the soul, and are forced to nourish and strengthen the perishable part of our being with bread and water and slothful sleep to the injury of the immortal part, however much we may fast and watch. and shall we indulge the flesh, to the detriment of the spirit, by granting it any of its demands that can easily be denied? only he who despises and sacrifices his wretched self can, when he has lost his baser self by the redeemer's grace, find himself again in god." hermas had listened patiently to the anchorite, but he now shook his head, and said: "i cannot under stand either you or my father. so long as i walk on this earth, i am i and no other. after death, no doubt, but not till then, will a new and eternal life begin" "not so," cried paulus hastily, interrupting him. "that other and higher life of which you speak, does not begin only after death for him who while still living does not cease from dying, from mortifying the flesh, and from subduing its lusts, from casting from him the world and his baser self, and from seeking the lord. it has been vouchsafed to many even in the midst of life to be born again to a higher existence. look at me, the basest of the base. i am not two but one, and yet am i in the sight of the lord as certainly another man than i was before grace found me, as this young shoot, which has grown from the roots of an overthrown palmtree is another tree than the rotten trunk. i was a heathen and enjoyed every pleasure of the earth to the utmost; then i became a christian; the grace of the lord fell upon me, and i was born again, and became a child again; but this time--the redeemer be praised!--the child of the lord. in the midst of life i died, i rose again, i found the joys of heaven. i had been menander, and like unto saul, i became paulus. all that menander loved--baths, feasts, theatres, horses and chariots, games in the arena, anointed limbs, roses and garlands, purple-garments, wine and the love of women--lie behind me like some foul bog out of which a traveller has struggled with difficulty. not a vein of the old man survives in the new, and a new life has begun for me, mid-way to the grave; nor for me only, but for all pious men. for you too the hour will sound, in which you will die to--" "if only i, like you, had been a menander," cried hermas, sharply interrupting the speaker: "how is it possible to cast away that which i never possessed? in order to die one first must live. this wretched life seems to me contemptible, and i am weary of running after you like a calf after a cow. i am free-born, and of noble race, my father himself has told me so, and i am certainly no feebler in body than the citizens' sons in the town with whom i went from the baths to the wrestlingschool." "did you go to the palaestra?" asked paulus in surprise. "to the wrestling-school of timagetus," cried hermas, coloring. "from outside the gate i watched the games of the youths as they wrestled, and threw heavy disks at a mark. my eyes almost sprang out of my head at the sight, and i could have cried out aloud with envy and vexation, at having to stand there in my ragged sheep-skin excluded from all competition. if pachomius had not just then come up, by the lord i must have sprung into the arena, and have challenged the strongest of them all to wrestle with me, and i could have thrown the disk much farther than the scented puppy who won the victory and was crowned." "you may thank, pachomius," said paulus laughing, "for having hindered you, for you would have earned nothing in the arena but mockery and disgrace. you are strong enough, certainly, but the art of the discobolus must be learned like any other. hercules himself would be beaten at that game without practice, and if he did not know the right way to handle the disk." "it would not have been the first time i had thrown one," cried the boy. "see, what i can do!" with these words he stooped and raised one of the flat stones, which lay piled up to secure the pathway; extending his arm with all his strength, he flung the granite disk over the precipice away into the abyss. "there, you see," cried paulus, who had watched the throw carefully and not without some anxious excitement. "however strong your arm may be, any novice could throw farther than you if only he knew the art of holding the discus. it is not so--not so; it must cut through the air like a knife with its sharp edge. look how you hold your hand, you throw like a woman! the wrist straight, and now your left foot behind, and your knee bent! see, how clumsy you are! here, give me the stone. you take the discus so, then you bend your body, and press down your knees like the arc of a bow, so that every sinew in your body helps to speed the shot when you let go. aye--that is better, but it is not quite right yet. first heave the discus with your arm stretched out, then fix your eye on the mark; now swing it out high behind you--stop! once more! your arm must be more strongly strained before you throw. that might pass, but you ought to be able to hit the palm-tree yonder. give me your discus, and that stone. there; the unequal corners hinder its flight-now pay attention!" paulus spoke with growing eagerness, and now he grasped the flat stone, as he might have done many years since when no youth in alexandria had been his match in throwing the discus. he bent his knees, stretched out his body, gave play to his wrist, extended his arm to the utmost and hurled the stone into space, while the clenched toes of his right foot deeply dinted the soil. but it fell to the ground before reaching which paulus had indicated as the mark. "wait!" cried hermas. "let me try now to hit the tree." his stone whistled through the air, but it did not even reach the mound, into which the palm-tree had struck root. paulus shook his head disapprovingly, and in his, turn seized a flat stone; and now an eager contest began. at every throw hermas' stone flew farther, for he copied his teacher's action and grasp with increasing skill, while the older man's arm began to tire. at last hermas for the second time hit the palm-tree, while paulus had failed to reach even the mound with his last fling. the pleasure of the contest took stronger possession of the anchorite; he flung his raiment from him, and seizing another stone he cried out-as though he were standing once more in the wrestling school among his old companions; all shining with their anointment. "by the silver-bowed apollo, and the arrow-speeding artemis, i will hit the palm-tree." the missile sang through the air, his body sprang back, and he stretched out his left arm to save his tottering balance; there was a crash, the tree quivered under the blow, and hermas shouted joyfully: "wonderful! wonderful! that was indeed a throw. the old menander is not dead! farewell--to-morrow we will try again." with these words hermas quitted the anchorite, and hastened with wide leaps down the hill in the oasis. paulus started at the words like a sleep-walker who is suddenly wakened by hearing his name called. he looked about him in bewilderment, as if he had to find his way in some strange world. drops of sweat stood on his brow, and with sudden shame he snatched up his garments that were lying on the ground, and covered his naked limbs. for some time he stood gazing after hermas, then he clasped his brow in deep anguish and large tears ran down upon his beard. "what have i said?" he muttered to himself; "that every vein of the old man in me was extirpated? fool! vain madman that i am. they named me paulus, and i am in truth saul, aye, and worse than saul!" with these words he threw himself on his knees, pressing his forehead against the hard rock, and began to pray. he felt as if he had been flung from a height on to spears and lances, as if his heart and soul were bleeding, and while he remained there, dissolved in grief and prayer, accusing and condemning himself, he felt not the burning of the sun as it mounted in the sky, heeded not the flight of time, nor heard the approach of a party of pilgrims, who, under the guidance of bishop agapitus, were visiting the holy places. the palmers saw him at prayer, heard his sobs, and, marvelling at his piety, at a sign from their pastor they knelt down behind him. when paulus at last arose, he perceived with surprise and alarm the witnesses of his devotions, and approached agapitus to kiss his robe. but the bishop said: "not so; he that is most pious is the greatest among us. my friends, let us bow down before this saintly man!" the pilgrims obeyed his command. paulus hid his face in his hands and sobbed out: "wretch, wretch that i am!" and the pilgrims lauded his humility, and followed their leader who left the spot. chapter iii. hermas had hastened onwards without delay. he had already reached the last bend of the path he had followed down the ravine, and he saw at his feet the long narrow valley and the gleaming waters of the stream, which here fertilized the soil of the desert. he looked down on lofty palms and tamarisk shrubs innumerable, among which rose the houses of the inhabitants, surrounded by their little gardens and small carefullyirrigated fields; already he could hear the crowing of a cock and the hospitable barking of a dog, sounds which came to him like a welcome from the midst of that life for which he yearned, accustomed as he was to be surrounded day and night by the deep and lonely stillness of the rocky heights. he stayed his steps, and his eyes followed the thin columns of smoke, which floated tremulously up in the clear light of the ever mounting sun from the numerous hearths that lay below him. "they are cooking breakfast now," thought he, "the wives for their husbands, the mothers for their children, and there, where that dark smoke rises, very likely a splendid feast is being prepared for guests; but i am nowhere at home, and no one will invite me in." the contest with paulus had excited and cheered him, but the sight of the city filled his young heart with renewed bitterness, and his lips trembled as he looked down on his sheepskin and his unwashed limbs. with hasty resolve he turned his back on the oasis and hurried up the mountain. by the side of the brooklet that he knew of he threw off his coarse garment, let the cool water flow over his body, washed himself carefully and with much enjoyment, stroked clown his thick hair with his fingers, and then hurried down again into the valley. the gorge through which he had descended debouched by a hillock that rose from the valley-plain; a small newly-built church leaned against its eastern declivity, and it was fortified on all sides by walls and dikes, behind which the citizens found shelter when they were threatened by the saracen robbers of the oasis. this hill passed for a particularly sacred spot. moses was supposed to have prayed on its summit during the battle with the amalekites while his arms were held up by aaron and hur. but there were other notable spots in the neighborhood of the oasis. there farther to the north was the rock whence moses had struck the water; there higher up, and more to the south-east, was the hill, where the lord had spoken to the law-giver face to face, and where he had seen the burning bush; there again was the spring where he had met the daughters of jethro, zippora and ledja, so called in the legend. pious pilgrims came to these holy places in great numbers, and among them many natives of the peninsula, particularly nabateans, who had previously visited the holy mountain in order to sacrifice on its summit to their gods, the sun, moon, and planets. at the outlet, towards the north, stood a castle, which ever since the syrian prefect, cornelius palma, had subdued arabia petraea in the time of trajan, had been held by a roman garrison for the protection of the blooming city of the desert against the incursions of the marauding saracens and blemmyes. but the citizens of pharan themselves had taken measures for the security of their property. on the topmost cliffs of the jagged crown of the giant mountain--the most favorable spots for a look-out far and wide-they placed sentinels, who day and night scanned the distance, so as to give a warning-signal in case of approaching clanger. each house resembled a citadel, for it was built of strong masonry, and the younger men were all well exercised bowmen. the more distinguished families dwelt near the church-hill, and there too stood the houses of the bishop agapitus, and of the city councillors of pharan. among these the senator petrus enjoyed the greatest respect, partly by reason of his solid abilities, and of his possessions in quarries, garden-ground, date palms, and cattle; partly in consequence of the rare qualities of his wife, the deaconess dorothea, the granddaughter of the long-deceased and venerable bishop chaeremon, who had fled hither with his wife during the persecution of the christians under decius, and who had converted many of the pharanites to the knowledge of the redeemer. the house of petrus was of strong and well-joined stone, and the palm garden adjoining was carefully tended. twenty slaves, many camels, and even two horses belonged to him, and the centurion in command of the imperial garrison, the gaul phoebicius, and his wife sirona, lived as lodgers under his roof; not quite to the satisfaction of the councillor, for the centurion was no christian, but a worshipper of mithras, in whose mysteries the wild gaul had risen to the grade of a 'lion,' whence his people, and with them the pharanites in general, were wont to speak of him as "the lion." his predecessor had been an officer of much lower rank but a believing christian, whom petrus had himself requested to live in his house, and when, about a year since, the lion phoebicius had taken the place of the pious pankratius, the senator could not refuse him the quarters, which had become a right. hermas went shyly and timidly towards the court of petrus' house, and his embarrassment increased when he found himself in the hall of the stately stone-house, which he had entered without let or hindrance, and did not know which way to turn. there was no one there to direct him, and he dared not go up the stairs which led to the upper story, although it seemed that petrus must be there. yes, there was no doubt, for he heard talking overhead and clearly distinguished the senator's deep voice. hermas advanced, and set his foot on the first step of the stairs; but he had scarcely begun to go up with some decision, and feeling ashamed of his bashfulness, when he heard a door fly open just above him, and from it there poured a flood of fresh laughing children's voices, like a pent up stream when the miller opens the sluice gate. he glanced upwards in surprise, but there was no time for consideration, for the shouting troop of released little ones had already reached the stairs. in front of all hastened a beautiful young woman with golden hair; she was laughing gaily, and held a gaudily-dressed doll high above her head. she came backwards towards the steps, turning her fair face beaming with fun and delight towards the children, who, full of their longing, half demanding, half begging, half laughing, half crying, shouted in confusion, "let us be, sirona," "do not take it away again, sirona," "do stay here, sirona," again and again, "sirona--sirona." a lovely six year old maiden stretched up as far as she could to reach the round white arm that held the play-thing; with her left hand, which was free, she gaily pushed away three smaller children, who tried to cling to her knees and exclaimed, still stepping backwards, "no, no; you shall not have it till it has a new gown; it shall be as long and as gay as the emperors's robe. let me go, caecilia, or you will fall down as naughty nikon did the other day." by this time she had reached the steps; she turned suddenly, and with outstretched arms she stopped the way of the narrow stair on which hermas was standing, gazing open-mouthed at the merry scene above his head. just as sirona was preparing to run down, she perceived him and started; but when she saw that the anchorite from pure embarrassment could find no words in which to answer her question as to what he wanted, she laughed heartily again and called out: "come up, we shall not hurt you--shall we children?" meanwhile hermas had found courage enough to give utterance to his wish to speak with the senator, and the young woman, who looked with complacency on his strong and youthful frame, offered to conduct him to him. petrus had been talking to his grown up elder sons; they were tall men, but their father was even taller than they, and of unusual breadth of shoulder. while the young men were speaking, he stroked his short grey beard and looked down at the ground in sombre gravity, as it might have seemed to the careless observer; but any one who looked closer might quickly perceive that not seldom a pleased smile, though not less often a somewhat bitter one, played upon the lips of the prudent and judicious man. he was one of those who can play with their children like a young mother, take the sorrows of another as much to heart as if they were their own, and yet who look so gloomy, and allow themselves to make such sharp speeches, that only those who are on terms of perfect confidence with them, cease to misunderstand them and fear them. there was something fretting the soul of this man, who nevertheless possessed all that could contribute to human happiness. his was a thankful nature, and yet he was conscious that he might have been destined to something greater than fate had permitted him to achieve or to be. he had remained a stone-cutter, but his sons had both completed their education in good schools in alexandria. the elder, antonius, who already had a house of his own and a wife and children, was an architect and artist-mechanic; the younger, polykarp, was a gifted young sculptor. the noble church of the oasis-city had been built under the direction of the elder; polykarp, who had only come home a month since, was preparing to establish and carry on works of great extent in his father's quarries, for he had received a commission to decorate the new court of the sebasteion or caesareum, as it was called--a grand pile in alexandria--with twenty granite lions. more than thirty artists had competed with him for this work, but the prize was unanimously adjudged to his models by qualified judges. the architect whose function it was to construct the colonnades and pavement of the court was his friend, and had agreed to procure the blocks of granite, the flags and the columns which he required from petrus' quarries, and not, as had formerly been the custom, from those of syene by the first cataract. antonius and polykarp were now standing with their father before a large table, explaining to him a plan which they had worked out together and traced on the thin wax surface of a wooden tablet. the young architect's proposal was to bridge over a deep but narrow gorge, which the beasts of burden were obliged to avoid by making a wide circuit, and so to make a new way from the quarries to the sea, which should be shorter by a third than the old one. the cost of this structure would soon be recouped by the saving in labor, and with perfect certainty, if only the transportships were laden at clysma with a profitable return freight of alexandrian manufactures, instead of returning empty as they had hitherto done. petrus, who could shine as a speaker in the council-meetings, in private life spoke but little. at each of his son's new projects he raised his eyes to the speaker's face, as if to see whether the young man had not lost his wits, while his mouth, only half hidden by his grey beard, smiled approvingly. when antonius began to unfold his plan for remedying the inconvenience of the ravine that impeded the way, the senator muttered, "only get feathers to grow on the slaves, and turn the black ones into ravens and the white ones into gulls, and then they might fly across. what do not people learn in the metropolis!" when he heard the word 'bridge' he stared at the young artist. "the only question," said he, "is whether heaven will lend us a rainbow." but when polykarp proposed to get some cedar trunks from syria through his friend in alexandria, and when his elder son explained his drawings of the arch with which he promised to span the gorge and make it strong and safe, he followed their words with attention; at the same time he knit his eyebrows as gloomily and looked as stern as if he were listening to some narrative of crime. still, he let them speak on to the end, and though at first he only muttered that it was mere "fancy-work" or "aye, indeed, if i were the emperor;" he afterwards asked clear and precise questions, to which he received positive and well considered answers. antonius proved by figures that the profit on the delivery of material for the caesareum only would cover more than three quarters of the outlay. then polykarp began to speak and declared that the granite of the holy mountain was finer in color and in larger blocks than that from syene. "we work cheaper here than at the cataract," interrupted antonius. "and the transport of the blocks will not come too dear when we have the bridge and command the road to the sea, and avail ourselves of the canal of trajan, which joins the nile to the red sea, and which in a few months will again be navigable." "and if my lions are a success," added polykarp, "and if zenodotus is satisfied with our stone and our work, it may easily happen that we outstrip syene in competition, and that some of the enormous orders that now flow from constantine's new residence to the quarries at syene, may find their way to us." "polykarp is not over sanguine," continued antonius, "for the emperor is beautifying and adding to byzantium with eager haste. whoever erects a new house has a yearly allowance of corn, and in order to attract folks of our stamp--of whom he cannot get enough--he promises entire exemption from taxation to all sculptors, architects, and even to skilled laborers. if we finish the blocks and pillars here exactly to the designs, they will take up no superfluous room in the ships, and no one will be able to deliver them so cheaply as we." "no, nor so good," cried polykarp, "for you yourself are an artist, father, and understand stone-work as well as any man. i never saw a finer or more equally colored granite than the block you picked out for my first lion. i am finishing it here on the spot, and i fancy it will make a show. certainly it will be difficult to take a foremost place among the noble works of the most splendid period of art, which already fill the caesareum, but i will do my best." "the lions will be admirable," cried antonius with a glance of pride at his brother. "nothing like them has been done by any one these ten years, and i know the alexandrians. if the master's work is praised that is made out of granite from the holy mountain, all the world will have granite from thence and from no where else. it all depends on whether the transport of the stone to the sea can be made less difficult and costly." "let us try it then," said petrus, who during his son's talk had walked up and down before them in silence. "let us try the building of the bridge in the name of the lord. we will work out the road if the municipality will declare themselves ready to bear half the cost; not otherwise, and i tell you frankly, you have both grown most able men." the younger son grasped his father's hand and pressed it with warm affection to his lips. petrus hastily stroked his brown locks, then he offered his strong right hand to his eldest-born and said: we must increase the number of our slaves. call your mother, polykarp." the youth obeyed with cheerful alacrity, and when dame dorothea--who was sitting at the loom with her daughter marthana and some of her female slaves--saw him rush into the women's room with a glowing face, she rose with youthful briskness in spite of her stout and dignified figure, and called out to her son: "he has approved of your plans?" "bridge and all, mother, everything," cried the young man. "finer granite for my lions, than my father has picked out for me is nowhere to be found, and how glad i am for antonius! only we must have patience about the roadway. he wants to speak to you at once." dorothea signed to her son to moderate his ecstasy, for he had seized her hand, and was pulling her away with him, but the tears that stood in her kind eyes testified how deeply she sympathized in her favorite's excitement. "patience, patience, i am coming directly," cried she, drawing away her hand in order to arrange her dress and her grey hair, which was abundant and carefully dressed, and formed a meet setting for her still pleasing and unwrinkled face. "i knew it would be so; when you have a reasonable thing to propose to your father, he will always listen to you and agree with you without my intervention; women should not mix themselves up with men's work. youth draws a strong bow and often shoots beyond the mark. it would be a pretty thing if out of foolish affection for you i were to try to play the siren that should ensnare the steersman of the house--your father-with flattering words. you laugh at the grey-haired siren? but love overlooks the ravages of years and has a good memory for all that was once pleasing. besides, men have not always wax in their ears when they should have. come now to your father." dorothea went out past polykarp and her daughter. the former held his sister back by the hand and asked--"was not sirona with you?" the sculptor tried to appear quite indifferent, but he blushed as he spoke; marthana observed this and replied not without a roguish glance: "she did show us her pretty face; but important business called her away." "sirona?" asked polykarp incredulously. "certainly, why not!" answered marthana laughing. "she had to sew a new gown for the children's doll." "why do you mock at her kindness?" said polykarp reproachfully. "how sensitive you are!" said marthana softly. "sirona is as kind and sweet as an angel; but you had better look at her rather less, for she is not one of us, and repulsive as the choleric centurion is to me--" she said no more, for dame dorothea, having reached the door of the sitting-room, looked around for her children. petrus received his wife with no less gravity than was usual with him, but there was an arch sparkle in his half closed eyes as he asked: "you scarcely know what is going on, i suppose?" "you are madmen, who would fain take heaven by storm," she answered gaily. "if the undertaking fails," said petrus, pointing to his sons, "those young ones will feel the loss longer than we shall." "but it will succeed," cried dorothea. "an old commander and young soldiers can win any battle." she held out her small plump hand with frank briskness to her husband, he clasped it cheerily and said: "i think i can carry the project for the road through the senate. to build our bridge we must also procure helping hands, and for that we need your aid, dorothea. our slaves will not suffice." "wait," cried the lady eagerly; she went to the window and called, "jethro, jethro!" the person thus addressed, the old house-steward, appeared, and dorothea began to discuss with him as to which of the inhabitants of the oasis might be disposed to let them have some able-bodied men, and whether it might not be possible to employ one or another of the house-slaves at the building. all that she said was judicious and precise, and showed that she herself superintended her household in every detail, and was accustomed to command with complete freedom. "that tall anubis then is really indispensable in the stable?" she asked in conclusion. the steward, who up to this moment had spoken shortly and intelligently, hesitated to answer; at the same time he looked up at petrus, who, sunk in the contemplation of the plan, had his back to him; his glance, and a deprecating movement, expressed very clearly that he had something to tell, but feared to speak in the presence of his master. dame dorothea was quick of comprehension, and she quite understood jethro's meaning; it was for that very reason that she said with more of surprise than displeasure: "what does the man mean with his winks? what i may hear, petrus may hear too." the senator turned, and looked at the steward from head to foot with so dark a glance, that he drew back, and began to speak quickly. but he was interrupted by the children's clamors on the stairs and by sirona, who brought hermas to the senator, and said laughing: "i found this great fellow on the stairs, he was seeking you." "petrus looked at the youth, not very kindly, and asked: "who are you? what is your business?" hermas struggled in vain for speech; the presence of so many human beings, of whom three were women, filled him with the utmost confusion. his fingers twisted the woolly curls on his sheep-skin, and his lips moved but gave no sound; at last he succeeded in stammering out, "i am the son of old stephanus, who was wounded in the last raid of the saracens. my father has hardly slept these five nights, and now paulus has sent me to you--the pious paulus of alexandria--but you know--and so i--" "i see, i see," said petrus with encouraging kindness. "you want some medicine for the old man. see dorothea, what a fine young fellow he is grown, this is the little man that the antiochian took with him up the mountain." hermas colored, and drew himself up; then he observed with great satisfaction that he was taller than the senator's sons, who were of about the same age as he, and for whom he had a stronger feeling, allied to aversion and fear, than even for their stern father. polykarp measured him with a glance, and said aloud to sirona, with whom he had exchanged a greeting, are off whom he had never once taken his eyes since she had come in: if we could get twenty slaves with such shoulders as those, we should get on well. there is work to be done here, you big fellow--" "my name is not 'fellow,' but hermas," said the anchorite, and the veins of his forehead began to swell polykarp felt that his father's visitor was something more than his poor clothing would seem to indicate and that he had hurt his feelings. he had certainly seen some old anchorites, who led a contemplative and penitential life up on the sacred mountain, but it had never occurred to him that a strong youth could be long to the brotherhood of hermits. so he said to him kindly: "hermas--is that your name? we all use our hands here and labor is no disgrace; what is your handicraft?" this question roused the young anchorite to the highest excitement, and dame dorothea, who perceives what was passing in his mind, said with quick decision: "he nurses his sick father. that is what you do, my son is it not? petrus will not refuse you his help." "certainly not," the senator added, "i will accompany you by-and-bye to see him. you must know my children, that this youth's father was a great lord, who gave up rich possessions in order to forget the world, where he had gone through bitter experiences, and to serve god in his own way, which we ought to respect though it is not our own. sit down there, my son. first we must finish some important business, and then i will go with you." "we live high up on the mountain," stammered hermas. "then the air will be all the purer," replied the senator. "but stay-perhaps the old man is alone no? the good paulus, you say, is with him? then he is in good hands, and you may wait." for a moment petrus stood considering, then he beckoned to his sons, and said, "antonius, go at once and see about some slaves--you, polykarp, find some strong beasts of burden. you are generally rather easy with your money, and in this case it is worth while to buy the dearest. the sooner you return well supplied the better. action must not halt behind decision, but follow it quickly and sharply, as the sound follows the blow. you, marthana, mix some of the brown fever-potion, and prepare some bandages; you have the key." "i will help her," cried sirona, who was glad to prove herself useful, and who was sincerely sorry for the sick old hermit; besides, hermas seemed to her like a discovery of her own, for whom she involuntarily felt more consideration since she had learned that he was the son of a man of rank. while the young women were busy at the medicine-cupboard, antonius and polykarp left the room. the latter had already crossed the threshold, when he turned once more, and cast a long look at sirona. then, with a hasty movement, he went on, closed the door, and with a heavy sigh descended the stairs. as soon as his sons were gone, petrus turned to the steward again. "what is wrong with the slave anubis?" he asked. "he is--wounded, hurt," answered jethro, "and for the next few days will be useless. the goat-girl miriam--the wild cat--cut his forehead with her reaping hook." "why did i not hear of this sooner?" cried dorothea reprovingly. "what have you done to the girl?" "we have shut her up in the hay loft," answered jethro, "and there she is raging and storming." the mistress shook her head disapprovingly. "the girl will not be improved by that treatment," she said. "go and bring her to me." as soon as the intendant had left the room, she exclaimed, turning to her husband, "one may well be perplexed about these poor creatures, when one sees how they behave to each other. i have seen it a thousand times! no judgment is so hard as that dealt by a slave to slaves!" jethro and a woman now led miriam into the room. the girl's hands were bound with thick cords, and dry grass clung to her dress and rough black hair. a dark fire glowed in her eyes, and the muscles of her face moved incessantly, as if she had st. vitus' dance. when dorothea looked at her she drew herself up defiantly, and looked around the room, as if to estimate the strength of her enemies. she then perceived hermas; the blood left her lips, with a violent effort she tore her slender hands out of the loops that confined them, covering her face with them, and fled to the door. but jethro put himself in her way, and seized her shoulder with a strong grasp. miriam shrieked aloud, and the senator's daughter, who had set down the medicines she had had in her hand, and had watched the girl's movements with much sympathy, hastened towards her. she pushed away the old man's hand, and said, "do not be frightened, miriam. whatever you may have done, my father can forgive you." her voice had a tone of sisterly affection, and the shepherdess followed marthana unresistingly to the table, on which the plans for the bridge were lying, and stood there by her side. for a minute all were silent; at last dame dorothea went up to miriam, and asked, "what did they do to you, my poor child, that you could so forget yourself?" miriam could not understand what was happening to her; she had been prepared for scoldings and blows, nay for bonds and imprisonment, and now these gentle words and kind looks! her defiant spirit was quelled, her eyes met the friendly eyes of her mistress, and she said in a low voice: "he had followed me for such a long time, and wanted to ask you for me as his wife; but i cannot bear him--i hate him as i do all your slaves." at these words her eyes sparkled wildly again, and with her old fire she went on, "i wish i had only hit him with a stick instead of a sickle; but i took what first came to hand to defend myself. when a man touches me-i cannot bear it, it is horrible, dreadful! yesterday i came home later than usual with the beasts, and by the time i had milked the goats, and was going to bed, every one in the house was asleep. then anubis met me, and began chattering about love; i repelled him, but he seized me, and held me with his hand here on my head and wanted to kiss me; then my blood rose, i caught hold of my reaping hook, that hung by my side, and it was not till i saw him roaring on the ground, that i saw i had done wrong. how it happened i really cannot tell--something seemed to rise up in me--something--i don't know what to call it. it drives me on as the wind drives the leaves that lie on the road, and i cannot help it. the best thing you can do is to let me die, for then you would be safe once for all from my wickedness, and all would be over and done with." "how can you speak so?" interrupted marthana. "you are wild and ungovernable, but not wicked." "only ask him!" cried the girl, pointing with flashing eyes to hermas, who, on his part, looked down a the floor in confusion. the senator exchanged a hasty glance with his wife, they were accustomed to under stand each other without speech, and dorothea said: "he who feels that he is not what he ought to be is already on the high-road to amendment. we let you keep the goats because you were always running after the flocks, and never can rest in the house. you are up on the mountain before morning-prayer, and never come home till after supper is over, and no one takes any thought for the better part of you. half of your guilt recoils upon us, and we have no right to punish you. you need not be so astonished; every one some times does wrong. petrus and i are human beings like you, neither more nor less; but we are christians, and it is our duty to look after the souls which god has entrusted to our care, be they our children or our slaves. you must go no more up the mountain, but shall stay with us in the house. i shall willingly forgive your hasty deed if petrus does not think it necessary to punish you." the senator gravely shook his head in sign of agreement, and dorothea turned to enquire of jethro: "is anubis badly wounded and does he need any care?' "he is lying in a fever and wanders in his talk, was the answer. "old praxinoa is cooling his wound with water." "then miriam can take her place and try to remedy the mischief which she was the cause of," said dorothea. "half of your guilt will be atoned for, girl, if anubis recovers under your care. i will come presently with marthana, and show you how to make a bandage." the shepherdess cast down her eyes, and passively allowed herself to be conducted to the wounded man. meanwhile marthana had prepared the brown mixture. petrus had his staff and felt-hat brought to him, gave hermas the medicine and desired him to follow him. sirona looked after the couple as they went. "what a pity for such a fine lad!" she exclaimed. "a purple coat would suit him better than that wretched sheepskin." the mistress shrugged her shoulders, and signing to her daughter said: "come to work, marthana, the sun is already high. how the days fly! the older one grows the quicker the hours hurry away." "i must be very young then," said the centurion's wife, "for in this wilderness time seems to me to creep along frightfully slow. one day is the same as another, and i often feel as if life were standing perfectly still, and my heart pulses with it. what should i be without your house and the children?--always the same mountain, the same palm-trees, the same faces!--" "but the mountain is glorious, the trees are beautiful!" answered dorothea. "and if we love the people with whom we are in daily intercourse, even here we may be contented and happy. at least we ourselves are, so far as the difficulties of life allow. i have often told you, what you want is work." "work! but for whom?" asked sirona. "if indeed i had children like you! even in rome i was not happy, far from it; and yet there was plenty to do and to think about. here a procession, there a theatre; but here! and for whom should i dress even? my jewels grow dull in my chest, and the moths eat my best clothes. i am making doll's clothes now of my colored cloak for your little ones. if some demon were to transform me into a hedge-hog or a grey owl, it would be all the same to me." "do not be so sinful," said dorothea gravely, but looking with kindly admiration at the golden hair and lovely sweet face of the young woman. "it ought to be a pleasure to you to dress yourself for your husband." "for him?" said sirona. "he never looks at me, or if he does it is only to abuse me. the only wonder to me is that i can still be merry at all; nor am i, except in your house, and not there even but when i forget him altogether." "i will not hear such things said--not another word," interrupted dorothea severely. "take the linen and cooling lotion, marthana, we will go and bind up anubis' wound." chapter iv. petrus went up the mountain side with hermas. the old man followed the youth, who showed him the way, and as he raised his eyes from time to time, he glanced with admiration at his guide's broad shoulders and elastic limbs. the road grew broader when it reached a little mountain plateau, and from thence the two men walked on side by side, but for some time without speaking till the senator asked: "how long now has your father lived up on the mountain?" "many years," answered hermas. "but i do not know how many--and it is all one. no one enquires about time up here among us." the senator stood still a moment and measured his companion with a glance. "you have been with your father ever since he came?" he asked. "he never lets me out of his sight;" replied hermas. "i have been only twice into the oasis, even to go to the church." "then you have been to no school?" "to what school should i go! my father has taught me to read the gospels and i could write, but i have nearly forgotten how. of what use would it be to me? we live like praying beasts." deep bitterness sounded in the last words, and petrus could see into the troubled spirit of his companion, overflowing as it was with weary disgust, and he perceived how the active powers of youth revolted in aversion against the slothful waste of life, to which he was condemned. he was grieved for the boy, and he was not one of those who pass by those in peril without helping them. then he thought of his own sons, who had grown up in the exercise and fulfilment of serious duties, and he owned to himself that the fine young fellow by his side was in no way their inferior, and needed nothing but to be guided aright. he thoughtfully looked first at the youth and then on the ground, and muttered unintelligible words into his grey beard as they walked on. suddenly he drew himself up and nodded decisively; he would make an attempt to save hermas, and faithful to his own nature, action trod on the heels of resolve. where the little level ended the road divided, one path continued to lead upwards, the other deviated to the valley and ended at the quarries. petrus was for taking the latter, but hermas cried out, "that is not the way to our cave; you must follow me." "follow thou me!" replied the senator, and the words were spoken with a tone and expression, that left no doubt in the youth's mind as to their double meaning. "the day is yet before us, and we will see what my laborers are doing. do you know the spot where they quarry the stone?" "how should i not know it?" said hermas, passing the senator to lead the way. "i know every path from our mountain to the oasis, and to the sea. a panther had its lair in the ravine behind your quarries." "so we have learnt," said petrus. "the thievish beasts have slaughtered two young camels, and the people can neither catch them in their toils nor run them down with dogs." "they will leave you in peace now," said the boy laughing. "i brought down the male from the rock up there with an arrow, and i found the mother in a hollow with her young ones. i had a harder job with her; my knife is so bad, and the copper blade bent with the blow; i had to strangle the gaudy devil with my hands, and she tore my shoulder and bit my arm. look! there are the scars. but thank god, my wounds heal quicker than my father's. paulus says, i am like an, earth-worm; when it is cut in two the two halves say good-bye to each other, and crawl off sound and gay, one way, and the other another way. the young panthers were so funny and helpless, i would not kill them, but i did them up in my sheepskin, and brought them to my father. he laughed at the little beggars, and then a nabataean took them to be sold at clysma to a merchant from rome. there and at byzantium, there is a demand for all kinds of living beasts of prey. i got some money for them, and for the skins of the old ones, and kept it to pay for my journey, when i went with the others to alexandria to ask the blessing of the new patriarch." "you went to the metropolis?" asked petrus. "you saw the great structures, that secure the coast from the inroads of the sea, the tall pharos with the far-shining fire, the strong bridges, the churches, the palaces and temples with their obelisks, pillars, and beautiful paved courts? did it never enter your mind to think that it would be a proud thing to construct such buildings?" hermas shook his head. "certainly i would rather live in an airy house with colonnades than in our dingy cavern, but building would never be in my way. what a long time it takes to put one stone on another! i am not patient, and when i leave my father i will do something that shall win me fame. but there are the quarries--" petrus did not let his companion finish his sentence, but interrupted him with all the warmth of youth, exclaiming: "and do you mean to say that fame cannot be won by the arts of building? look there at the blocks and flags, here at the pillars of hard stone. these are all to be sent to aila, and there my son antonius, the elder of the two that you saw just now, is going to build a house of god, with strong walls and pillars, much larger and handsomer than our church in the oasis, and that is his work too. he is not much older than you are, and already he is famous among the people far and wide. out of those red blocks down there my younger son polykarp will hew noble lions, which are destined to decorate the finest building in the capital itself. when you and i, and all that are now living, shall have been long since forgotten, still it will be said these are the work of the master polykarp, the son of petrus, the pharanite. what he can do is certainly a thing peculiar to himself, no one who is not one of the chosen and gifted ones can say, 'i will learn to do that.' but you have a sound understanding, strong hands and open eyes, and who can tell what else there is hidden in you. if you could begin to learn soon, it would not yet be too late to make a worthy master of you, but of course he who would rise so high must not be afraid of work. is your mind set upon fame? that is quite right, and i am very glad of it; but you must know that he who would gather that rare fruit must water it, as a noble heathen once said, with the sweat of his brow. without trouble and labor and struggles there can be no victory, and men rarely earn fame without fighting for victory." the old man's vehemence was contagious; the lad's spirit was roused, and he exclaimed warmly: "what do you say? that i am afraid of struggles and trouble? i am ready to stake everything, even my life, only to win fame. but to measure stone, to batter defenceless blocks with a mallet and chisel, or to join the squares with accurate pains--that does not tempt me. i should like to win the wreath in the palaestra by flinging the strongest to the ground, or surpass all others as a warrior in battle; my father was a soldier too, and he may talk as much as he will of 'peace,' and nothing but 'peace,' all the same in his dreams he speaks of bloody strife and burning wounds. if you only cure him i will stay no longer on this lonely mountain, even if i must steal away in secret. for what did god give me these arms, if not to use them?" petrus made no answer to these words, which came is a stormy flood from hermas' lips, but he stroked his grey beard, and thought to himself, "the young of the eagle does not catch flies. i shall never win over this soldier's son to our peaceful handicraft, but he shall not remain on the mountain among these queer sluggards, for there he is being ruined, and yet he is not of a common sort." when he had given a few orders to the overseer of his workmen, he followed the young man to see his suffering father. it was now some hours since hermas and paulus had left the wounded anchorite, and he still lay alone in his cave. the sun, as it rose higher and higher, blazed down upon the rocks, which began to radiate their heat, and the hermit's dwelling was suffocatingly hot. the pain of the poor man's wound increased, his fever was greater, and he was very thirsty. there stood the jug, which paulus had given him, but it was long since empty, and neither paulus nor hermas had come back. he listened anxiously to the sounds in the distance, and fancied at first that he heard the alexandrian's footstep, and then that he heard loud words and suppressed groans coming from his cave. stephanus tried to call out, but he himself could hardly hear the feeble sound, which, with his wounded breast and parched mouth, he succeeded in uttering. then he fain would have prayed, but fearful mental anguish disturbed his devotion. all the horrors of desertion came upon him, and he who had lived a life overflowing with action and enjoyment, with disenchantment and satiety, who now in solitude carried on an incessant spiritual struggle for the highest goal--this man felt himself as disconsolate and lonely as a bewildered child that has lost its mother. he lay on his bed of pain softly crying, and when he observed by the shadow of the rock that the sun had passed its noonday height, indignation and bitter feeling were added to pain, thirst and weariness. he doubled his fists and muttered words which sounded like soldier's oaths, and with them the name now of paulus, now of his son. at last anguish gained the upperhand of his anger, and it seemed to him, as though he were living over again the most miserable hour of his life, an hour now long since past and gone. he thought he was returning from a noisy banquet in the palace of the caesars. his slaves had taken the garlands of roses and poplar leaves from his brow and breast, and robed him in his night-dress; now, with a silver lamp in his hand, he was approaching his bedroom, and he smiled, for his young wife was awaiting him, the mother of his hermas. she was fair and he loved her well, and he had brought home witty sayings to repeat to her from the table of the emperor. he, if any one, had a right to smile. now he was in the ante-room, in which two slave-women were accustomed to keep watch; he found only one, and she was sleeping and breathing deeply; he still smiled as he threw the light upon her face-how stupid she looked with her mouth open! an alabaster lamp shed a dim light in the bed-room, softly and still smiling he went up to glycera's ivory couch, and held up his lamp, and stared at the empty and undisturbed bed--and the smile faded from his lips. the smile of that evening came back to him no more through all the long years, for glycera had betrayed him, and left him--him and her child. all this had happened twenty years since, and to-day all that he had then felt had returned to him, and he saw his wife's empty couch with his "mind's eye," as plainly as he had then seen it, and he felt as lonely and as miserable as in that night. but now a shadow appeared before the opening of the cave, and he breathed a deep sigh as he felt himself released from the hideous vision, for he had recognized paulus, who came up and knelt down beside him. "water, water!" stephanus implored in a low voice, and paulus, who was cut to the heart by the moaning of the old man, which he had not heard till he entered the cave, seized the pitcher. he looked into it, and, finding it quite dry, he rushed down to the spring as if he were running for a wager, filled it to the brim and brought it to the lips of the sick man, who gulped the grateful drink down with deep draughts, and at last exclaimed with a sigh of relief; "that is better; why were you so long away? i was so thirsty!" paulus who had fallen again on his knees by the old man, pressed his brow against the couch, and made no reply. stephanus gazed in astonishment at his companion, but perceiving that he was weeping passionately he asked no further questions. perfect stillness reigned in the cave for about an hour; at last paulus raised his face, and said, "forgive me stephanus. i forgot your necessity in prayer and scourging, in order to recover the peace of mind i had trifled away--no heathen would have done such a thing!" the sick man stroked his friend's arm affectionately; but paulus murmured, "egoism, miserable egoism guides and governs us. which of us ever thinks of the needs of others? and we--we who profess to walk in the way of the lamb!" he sighed deeply, and leaned his head on the sick man's breast, who lovingly stroked his rough hair, and it was thus that the senator found him, when he entered the cave with hermas. the idle way of life of the anchorites was wholly repulsive to his views of the task for men and for christians, but he succored those whom he could, and made no enquiries about the condition of the sufferer. the pathetic union in which he found the two men touched his heart, and, turning to paulus, he said kindly: "i can leave you in perfect comfort, for you seem to me to have a faithful nurse." the alexandrian reddened; he shook his head, and replied: "i? i thought of no one but myself, and left him to suffer and thirst in neglect, but now i will not quit him--no, indeed, i will not, and by god's help and yours, he shall recover." petrus gave him a friendly nod, for he did not believe in the anchorite's self-accusation, though he did in his good-will; and before he left the cave, he desired hermas to come to him early on the following day to give him news of his father's state. he wished not only to cure stephanus, but to continue his relations with the youth, who had excited his interest in the highest degree, and he had resolved to help him to escape from the inactive life which was weighing upon him. paulus declined to share the simple supper that the father and son were eating, but expressed his intention of remaining with the sick man. he desired hermas to pass the night in his dwelling, as the scanty limits of the cave left but narrow room for the lad. a new life had this day dawned upon the young man; all the grievances and desires which had filled his soul ever since his journey to alexandria, crowding together in dull confusion, had taken form and color, and he knew now that he could not remain an anchorite, but must try his over abundant strength in real life. "my father," thought he, "was a warrior, and lived in a palace, before he retired into our dingy cave; paulus was menander, and to this day has not forgotten how to throw the discus; i am young, strong, and free-born as they were, and petrus says, i might have been a fine man. i will not hew and chisel stones like his sons, but caesar needs soldiers, and among all the amalekites, nay among the romans in the oasis, i saw none with whom i might not match myself." while thus he thought he stretched his limbs, and struck his hands on his broad breast, and when he was asleep, he dreamed of the wrestling school, and of a purple robe that paulus held out to him, of a wreath of poplar leaves that rested on his scented curls, and of the beautiful woman who had met him on the stairs of the senator's house. etext editor's bookmarks: action trod on the heels of resolve homo sum; humani nil a me alienum puto i am human, nothing that is human can i regard as alien to me love is at once the easiest and the most difficult love overlooks the ravages of years and has a good memory no judgment is so hard as that dealt by a slave to slaves no man is more than man, and many men are less sky as bare of cloud as the rocks are of shrubs and herbs sleep avoided them both, and each knew that the other was awake the older one grows the quicker the hours hurry away to pray is better than to bathe wakefulness may prolong the little term of life this ebook was produced by david widger <widger@cecomet.net> [note: there is a short list of bookmarks, or pointers, at the end of the file for those who may wish to sample the author's ideas before making an entire meal of them. d.w.] uarda volume 8. by georg ebers chapter xxxiii. an hour later, ani, in rich attire, left his father's tomb, and drove his brilliant chariot past the witch's cave, and the little cottage of uarda's father. nemu squatted on the step, the dwarf's usual place. the little man looked down at the lately rebuilt hut, and ground his teeth, when, through an opening in the hedge, he saw the white robe of a man, who was sitting by uarda. the pretty child's visitor was prince rameri, who had crossed the nile in the early morning, dressed as a young scribe of the treasury, to obtain news of pentaur--and to stick a rose into uarda's hair. this purpose was, indeed, the more important of the two, for the other must, in point of time at any rate, be the second. he found it necessary to excuse himself to his own conscience with a variety of cogent reasons. in the first place the rose, which lay carefully secured in a fold of his robe, ran great danger of fading if he first waited for his companions near the temple of seti; next, a hasty return from thence to thebes might prove necessary; and finally, it seemed to him not impossible that bent-anat might send a master of the ceremonies after him, and if that happened any delay might frustrate his purpose. his heart beat loud and violently, not for love of the maiden, but because he felt he was doing wrong. the spot that he must tread was unclean, and he had, for the first time, told a lie. he had given himself out to uarda to be a noble youth of bent-anat's train, and, as one falsehood usually entails another, in answer to her questions he had given her false information as to his parents and his life. had evil more power over him in this unclean spot than in the house of seti, and at his father's? it might very well be so, for all disturbance in nature and men was the work of seth, and how wild was the storm in his breast! and yet! he wished nothing but good to come of it to uarda. she was so fair and sweet--like some child of the gods: and certainly the white maiden must have been stolen from some one, and could not possibly belong to the unclean people. when the prince entered the court of the hut, uarda was not to be seen, but he soon heard her voice singing out through the open door. she came out into the air, for the dog barked furiously at rameri. when she saw the prince, she started, and said: "you are here already again, and yet i warned you. my grandmother in there is the wife of a paraschites." "i am not come to visit her," retorted the prince, "but you only; and you do not belong to them, of that i am convinced. no roses grow in the desert." "and yet: am my father's child," said uarda decidedly, "and my poor dead grandfather's grandchild. certainly i belong to them, and those that do not think me good enough for them may keep away." with these words she turned to re-enter the house; but rameri seized her hand, and held her back, saying: "how cruel you are! i tried to save you, and came to see you before i thought that you might--and, indeed, you are quite unlike the people whom you call your relations. you must not misunderstand me; but it would be horrible to me to believe that you, who are so beautiful, and as white as a lily, have any part in the hideous curse. you charm every one, even my mistress, bent-anat, and it seems to me impossible--" "that i should belong to the unclean!--say it out," said uarda softly, and casting down her eyes. then she continued more excitedly: "but i tell you, the curse is unjust, for a better man never lived than my grandfather was." tears sprang from her eyes, and rameri said: "i fully believe it; and it must be very difficult to continue good when every one despises and scorns one; i at least can be brought to no good by blame, though i can by praise. certainly people are obliged to meet me and mine with respect." "and us with contempt!" exclaimed uarda. "but i will tell you something. if a man is sure that he is good, it is all the same to him whether he be despised or honored by other people. nay--we may be prouder than you; for you great folks must often say to yourselves that you are worth less than men value you at, and we know that we are worth more." "i have often thought that of you," exclaimed rameri, "and there is one who recognizes your worth; and that is i. even if it were otherwise, i must always--always think of you." "i have thought of you too," said uarda. "just now, when i was sitting with my sick grandmother, it passed through my mind how nice it would be if i had a brother just like you. do you know what i should do if you were my brother?" "well?" "i should buy you a chariot and horse, and you should go away to the king's war." "are you so rich?" asked rameri smiling. "oh yes!" answered uarda. "to be sure, i have not been rich for more than an hour. can you read?" "yes." "only think, when i was ill they sent a doctor to me from the house of seti. he was very clever, but a strange man. he often looked into my eyes like a drunken man, and he stammered when he spoke." "is his name nebsecht?" asked the prince. "yes, nebsecht. he planned strange things with grandfather, and after pentaur and you had saved us in the frightful attack upon us he interceded for us. since then he has not come again, for i was already much better. now to-day, about two hours ago, the dog barked, and an old man, a stranger, came up to me, and said he was nebsecht's brother, and had a great deal of money in his charge for me. he gave me a ring too, and said that he would pay the money to him, who took the ring to him from me. then he read this letter to me." rameri took the letter and read. "nebsecht to the fair uarda." "nebsecht greets uarda, and informs her that he owed her grandfather in osiris, pinem--whose body the kolchytes are embalming like that of a noble--a sum of a thousand gold rings. these he has entrusted to his brother teta to hold ready for her at any moment. she may trust teta entirely, for he is honest, and ask him for money whenever she needs it. it would be best that she should ask teta to take care of the money for her, and to buy her a house and field; then she could remove into it, and live in it free from care with her grandmother. she may wait a year, and then she may choose a husband. nebsecht loves uarda much. if at the end of thirteen months he has not been to see her, she had better marry whom she will; but not before she has shown the jewel left her by her mother to the king's interpreter." "how strange!" exclaimed rameri. "who would have given the singular physician, who always wore such dirty clothes, credit for such generosity? but what is this jewel that you have?" uarda opened her shirt, and showed the prince the sparkling ornament. "those are diamonds---it is very valuable!" cried the prince; "and there in the middle on the onyx there are sharply engraved signs. i cannot read them, but i will show them to the interpreter. did your mother wear that?" "my father found it on her when she died," said uarda. "she came to egypt as a prisoner of war, and was as white as i am, but dumb, so she could not tell us the name of her home." "she belonged to some great house among the foreigners, and the children inherit from the mother," cried the prince joyfully. "you are a princess, uarda! oh! how glad i am, and how much i love you!" the girl smiled and said, "now you will not be afraid to touch the daughter of the unclean." "you are cruel," replied the prince. "shall i tell you what i determined on yesterday,--what would not let me sleep last night,--and for what i came here today?" "well?" rameri took a most beautiful white rose out of his robe and said: "it is very childish, but i thought how it would be if i might put this flower with my own hands into your shining hair. may i?" "it is a splendid rose! i never saw such a fine one." "it is for my haughty princess. do pray let me dress your hair! it is like silk from tyre, like a swan's breast, like golden star-beams--there, it is fixed safely! nay, leave it so. if the seven hathors could see you, they would be jealous, for you are fairer than all of them." "how you flatter!" said uarda, shyly blushing, and looking into his sparkling eyes. "uarda," said the prince, pressing her hand to his heart. "i have now but one wish. feel how my heart hammers and beats. i believe it will never rest again till you--yes, uarda--till you let me give you one, only one, kiss." the girl drew back. "now," she said seriously. "now i see what you want. old hekt knows men, and she warned me." "who is hekt, and what can she know of me?" "she told me that the time would come when a man would try to make friends with me. he would look into my eyes, and if mine met his, then he would ask to kiss me. but i must refuse him, because if i liked him to kiss me he would seize my soul, and take it from me, and i must wander, like the restless ghosts, which the abyss rejects, and the storm whirls before it, and the sea will not cover, and the sky will not receive, soulless to the end of my days. go away--for i cannot refuse you the kiss, and yet i would not wander restless, and without a soul!" "is the old woman who told you that a good woman?" asked rameri. uarda shook her head. "she cannot be good," cried the prince. "for she has spoken a falsehood. i will not seize your soul; i will give you mine to be yours, and you shall give me yours to be mine, and so we shall neither of us be poorer-but both richer!" "i should like to believe it," said uarda thoughtfully, "and i have thought the same kind of thing. when i was strong, i often had to go late in the evening to fetch water from the landing-place where the great water-wheel stands. thousands of drops fall from the earthenware pails as it turns, and in each you can see the reflection of a moon, yet there is only one in the sky. then i thought to myself, so it must be with the love in our hearts. we have but one heart, and yet we pour it out into other hearts without its losing in strength or in warmth. i thought of my grandmother, of my father, of little scherau, of the gods, and of pentaur. now i should like to give you a part of it too." "only a part?" asked rameri. "well, the whole will be reflected in you, you know," said uarda, "as the whole moon is reflected in each drop." "it shall!" cried the prince, clasping the trembling girl in his arms, and the two young souls were united in their first kiss. "now do go!" uarda entreated. "let me stay a little while," said rameri. "sit down here by me on the bench in front of the house. the hedge shelters us, and besides this valley is now deserted, and there are no passers by." "we are doing what is not right," said uarda. "if it were right we should not want to hide ourselves." "do you call that wrong which the priests perform in the holy of holies?" asked the prince. "and yet it is concealed from all eyes." "how you can argue!" laughed uarda. "that shows you can write, and are one of his disciples." "his, his!" exclaimed rameri. "you mean pentaur. he was always the dearest to me of all my teachers, but it vexes me when you speak of him as if he were more to you than i and every one else. the poet, you said, was one of the drops in which the moon of your soul finds a reflection-and i will not divide it with many." "how you are talking!" said uarda. "do you not honor your father, and the gods? i love no one else as i do you--and what i felt when you kissed me--that was not like moon-light, but like this hot mid-day sun. when i thought of you i had no peace. i will confess to you now, that twenty times i looked out of the door, and asked whether my preserver-the kind, curly-headed boy--would really come again, or whether he despised a poor girl like me? you came, and i am so happy, and i could enjoy myself with you to my heart's content. be kind again--or i will pull your hair!" "you!" cried rameri. "you cannot hurt with your little hands, though you can with your tongue. pentaur is much wiser and better than i, you owe much to him, and nevertheless i--" "let that rest," interrupted the girl, growing grave. "he is not a man like other men. if he asked to kiss me, i should crumble into dust, as ashes dried in the sun crumble if you touch them with a finger, and i should be as much afraid of his lips as of a lion's. though you may laugh at it, i shall always believe that he is one of the immortals. his own father told me that a great wonder was shown to him the very day after his birth. old hekt has often sent me to the gardener with a message to enquire after his son, and though the man is rough he is kind. at first he was not friendly, but when he saw how much i liked his flowers he grew fond of me, and set me to work to tie wreaths and bunches, and to carry them to his customers. as we sat together, laying the flowers side by side, he constantly told me something about his son, and his beauty and goodness and wisdom. when he was quite a little boy he could write poems, and he learned to read before any one had shown him how. the high-priest ameni heard of it and took him to the house of seti, and there he improved, to the astonishment of the gardener; not long ago i went through the garden with the old man. he talked of pentaur as usual, and then stood still before a noble shrub with broad leaves, and said, my son is like this plant, which has grown up close to me, and i know not how. i laid the seed in the soil, with others that i bought over there in thebes; no one knows where it came from, and yet it is my own. it certainly is not a native of egypt; and is not pentaur as high above me and his mother and his brothers, as this shrub is above the other flowers? we are all small and bony, and he is tall and slim; our skin is dark and his is rosy; our speech is hoarse, his as sweet as a song. i believe he is a child of the gods that the immortals have laid in my homely house. who knows their decrees?' and then i often saw pentaur at the festivals, and asked myself which of the other priests of the temple came near him in height and dignity? i took him for a god, and when i saw him who saved my life overcome a whole mob with superhuman strength must i not regard him as a superior being? i look up to him as to one of them; but i could never look in his eyes as i do in yours. it would not make my blood flow faster, it would freeze it in my veins. how can i say what i mean! my soul looks straight out, and it finds you; but to find him it must look up to the heavens. you are a fresh rose-garland with which i crown myself--he is a sacred persea-tree before which i bow." rameri listened to her in silence, and then said, "i am still young, and have done nothing yet, but the time shall come in which you shall look up to me too as to a tree, not perhaps a sacred tree, but as to a sycamore under whose shade we love to rest. i am no longer gay; i will leave you for i have a serious duty to fulfil. pentaur is a complete man, and i will be one too. but you shall be the rose-garland to grace me. men who can be compared to flowers disgust me!" the prince rose, and offered uarda his hand. "you have a strong hand," said the girl. "you will be a noble man, and work for good and great ends; only look, my fingers are quite red with being held so tightly. but they too are not quite useless. they have never done anything very hard certainly, but what they tend flourishes, and grandmother says they are 'lucky.' look at the lovely lilies and the pomegrenate bush in that corner. grandfather brought the earth here from the nile, pentaur's father gave me the seeds, and each little plant that ventured to show a green shoot through the soil i sheltered and nursed and watered, though i had to fetch the water in my little pitcher, till it was vigorous, and thanked me with flowers. take this pomegranate flower. it is the first my tree has borne; and it is very strange, when the bud first began to lengthen and swell my grandmother said, 'now your heart will soon begin to bud and love.' i know now what she meant, and both the first flowers belong to you--the red one here off the tree, and the other, which you cannot see, but which glows as brightly as this does." rameri pressed the scarlet blossom to his lips, and stretched out his hand toward uarda; but she shrank back, for a little figure slipped through an opening in the hedge. it was scherau. his pretty little face glowed with his quick run, and his breath was gone. for a few minutes he tried in vain for words, and looked anxiously at the prince. uarda saw that something unusual agitated him; she spoke to him kindly, saying that if he wished to speak to her alone he need not be afraid of rameri, for he was her best friend. "but it does not concern you and me," replied the child, "but the good, holy father pentaur, who was so kind to me, and who saved your life." "i am a great friend of pentaur," said the prince. "is it not true, uarda? he may speak with confidence before me." "i may?" said scherau, "that is well. i have slipped away; hekt may come back at any moment, and if she sees that i have taken myself off i shall get a beating and nothing to eat." "who is this horrible hekt?" asked rameri indignantly. "that uarda can tell you by and by," said the little one hurriedly. "now only listen. she laid me on my board in the cave, and threw a sack over me, and first came nemu, and then another man, whom she spoke to as steward. she talked to him a long time. at first i did not listen, but then i caught the name of pentaur, and i got my head out, and now i understand it all. the steward declared that the good pentaur was wicked, and stood in his way, and he said that ameni was going to send him to the quarries at chennu, but that that was much too small a punishment. then hekt advised him to give a secret commission to the captain of the ship to go beyond chennu, to the frightful mountain-mines, of which she has often told me, for her father and her brother were tormented to death there." "none ever return from thence," said the prince. "but go on." "what came next, i only half understood, but they spoke of some drink that makes people mad. oh! what i see and hear!--i would he contentedly on my board all my life long, but all else is too horrible--i wish that i were dead." and the child began to cry bitterly. uarda, whose cheeks had turned pale, patted him affectionately; but rameri exclaimed: "it is frightful! unheard of! but who was the steward? did you not hear his name? collect yourself, little man, and stop crying. it is a case of life and death. who was the scoundrel? did she not name him? try to remember." scherau bit his red lips, and tried for composure. his tears ceased, and suddenly he exclaimed, as he put his hand into the breast of his ragged little garment: "stay, perhaps you will know him again--i made him!" "you did what?" asked the prince. "i made him," repeated the little artist, and he carefully brought out an object wrapped up in a scrap of rag, "i could just see his head quite clearly from one side all the time he was speaking, and my clay lay by me. i always must model something when my mind is excited, and this time i quickly made his face, and as the image was successful, i kept it about me to show to the master when hekt was out." while he spoke he had carefully unwrapped the figure with trembling fingers, and had given it to uarda. "ani!" cried the prince. "he, and no other! who could have thought it! what spite has he against pentaur? what is the priest to him?" for a moment he reflected, then he struck his hand against his forehead. "fool that i am!" he exclaimed vehemently. "child that i am! of course, of course; i see it all. ani asked for bent-anat's hand, and she--now that i love you, uarda, i understand what ails her. away with deceit! i will tell you no more lies, uarda. i am no page of honor to bent-anat; i am her brother, and king rameses' own son. do not cover your face with your hands, uarda, for if i had not seen your mother's jewel, and if i were not only a prince, but horus himself, the son of isis, i must have loved you, and would not have given you up. but now other things have to be done besides lingering with you; now i will show you that i am a man, now that pentaur is to be saved. farewell, uarda, and think of me!" he would have hurried off, but scherau held him by the robe, and said timidly: thou sayst thou art rameses' son. hekt spoke of him too. she compared him to our moulting hawk." "she shall soon feel the talons of the royal eagle," cried rameri. "once more, farewell!" he gave uarda his hand, she pressed it passionately to her lips, but he drew it away, kissed her forehead, and was gone. the maiden looked after him pale and speechless. she saw another man hastening towards her, and recognizing him as her father, she went quickly to meet him. the soldier had come to take leave of her, he had to escort some prisoners. "to chennu?" asked uarda. "no, to the north," replied the man. his daughter now related what she had heard, and asked whether he could help the priest, who had saved her. "if i had money, if i had money!" muttered the soldier to himself. "we have some," cried uarda; she told him of nebsecht's gift, and said: "take me over the nile, and in two hours you will have enough to make a man rich. [it may be observed that among the egyptian women were qualified to own and dispose of property. for example a papyrus (vii) in the louvre contains an agreement between asklepias (called semmuthis), the daughter or maid-servant of a corpse-dresser of thebes, who is the debtor, and arsiesis, the creditor, the son of a kolchytes; both therefore are of the same rank as uarda.] but no; i cannot leave my sick grandmother. you yourself take the ring, and remember that pentaur is being punished for having dared to protect us." "i remember it," said the soldier. "i have but one life, but i will willingly give it to save his. i cannot devise schemes, but i know something, and if it succeeds he need not go to the gold-mines. i will put the wine-flask aside--give me a drink of water, for the next few hours i must keep a sober head." "there is the water, and i will pour in a mouthful of wine. will you come back and bring me news?" "that will not do, for we set sail at midnight, but if some one returns to you with the ring you will know that what i propose has succeeded." uarda went into the hut, her father followed her; he took leave of his sick mother and of his daughter. when they went out of doors again, he said: "you have to live on the princess's gift till i return, and i do not want half of the physician's present. but where is your pomegranate blossom?" "i have picked it and preserved it in a safe place." "strange things are women!" muttered the bearded man; he tenderly kissed his child's forehead, and returned to the nile down the road by which he had come. the prince meanwhile had hurried on, and enquired in the harbor of the necropolis where the vessel destined for chennu was lying--for the ships loaded with prisoners were accustomed to sail from this side of the river, starting at night. then he was ferried over the river, and hastened to bent-anat. he found her and nefert in unusual excitement, for the faithful chamberlain had learned--through some friends of the king in ani's suite--that the regent had kept back all the letters intended for syria, and among them those of the royal family. a lord in waiting, who was devoted to the king, had been encouraged by the chamberlain to communicate to bent-anat other things, which hardly allowed any doubts as to the ambitious projects of her uncle; she was also exhorted to be on her guard with nefert, whose mother was the confidential adviser of the regent. bent-anat smiled at this warning, and sent at once a message to ani to inform him that she was ready to undertake the pilgrimage to the "emerald-hathor," and to be purified in the sanctuary of that goddess. she purposed sending a message to her father from thence, and if he permitted it, joining him at the camp. she imparted this plan to her friend, and nefert thought any road best that would take her to her husband. rameri was soon initiated into all this, and in return he told them all he had learned, and let bent-anat guess that he had read her secret. so dignified, so grave, were the conduct and the speech of the boy who had so lately been an overhearing mad-cap, that bent-anat thought to herself that the danger of their house had suddenly ripened a boy into a man. she had in fact no objection to raise to his arrangements. he proposed to travel after sunset, with a few faithful servants on swift horses as far as keft, and from thence ride fast across the desert to the red sea, where they could take a phoenician ship, and sail to aila. from thence they would cross the peninsula of sinai, and strive to reach the egyptian army by forced marches, and make the king acquainted with ani's criminal attempts. to bent-anat was given the task of rescuing pentaur, with the help of the faithful chamberlain. money was fortunately not wanting, as the high treasurer was on their side. all depended on their inducing the captain to stop at chennu; the poet's fate would there, at the worst, be endurable. at the same time, a trustworthy messenger was to be sent to the governor of chennu, commanding him in the name of the king to detain every ship that might pass the narrows of chennu by night, and to prevent any of the prisoners that had been condemned to the quarries from being smuggled on to ethiopia. rameri took leave of the two women, and he succeeded in leaving thebes unobserved. bent-anat knelt in prayer before the images of her mother in osiris, of hathor, and of the guardian gods of her house, till the chamberlain returned, and told her that he had persuaded the captain of the ship to stop at chennu, and to conceal from ani that he had betrayed his charge. the princess breathed more freely, for she had come to a resolution that if the chamberlain had failed in his mission, she would cross over to the necropolis forbid the departure of the vessel, and in the last extremity rouse the people, who were devoted to her, against ani. the following morning the lady katuti craved permission of the princess to see her daughter. bent-anat did not show herself to the widow, whose efforts failed to keep her daughter from accompanying the princess on her journey, or to induce her to return home. angry and uneasy, the indignant mother hastened to ani, and implored him to keep nefert at home by force; but the regent wished to avoid attracting attention, and to let bent-anat set out with a feeling of complete security. "do not be uneasy," he said. "i will give the ladies a trustworthy escort, who will keep them at the sanctuary of the 'emerald-hathor' till all is settled. there you can deliver nefert to paaker, if you still like to have him for a son-in-law after hearing several things that i have learned. as for me, in the end i may induce my haughty niece to look up instead of down; i may be her second love, though for that matter she certainly is not my first." on the following day the princess set out. ani took leave of her with kindly formality, which she returned with coolness. the priesthood of the temple of amon, with old bek en chunsu at their head, escorted her to the harbor. the people on the banks shouted bent-anat's name with a thousand blessings, but many insulting words were to be heard also. the pilgrim's nile-boat was followed by two others, full of soldiers, who accompanied the ladies "to protect them." the south-wind filled the sails, and carried the little procession swiftly down the stream. the princess looked now towards the palace of her fathers, now towards the tombs and temples of the necropolis. at last even the colossus of anienophis disappeared, and the last houses of thebes. the brave maiden sighed deeply, and tears rolled down her checks. she felt as if she were flying after a lost battle, and yet not wholly discouraged, but hoping for future victory. as she turned to go to the cabin, a veiled girl stepped up to her, took the veil from her face, and said: "pardon me, princess; i am uarda, whom thou didst run over, and to whom thou hast since been so good. my grandmother is dead, and i am quite alone. i slipped in among thy maid-servants, for i wish to follow thee, and to obey all thy commands. only do not send me away." "stay, dear child," said the princess, laying her hand on her hair. then, struck by its wonderful beauty, she remembered her brother, and his wish to place a rose in uarda's shining tresses. chapter xxxiv. two months had past since bent-anat's departure from thebes, and the imprisonment of pentaur. ant-baba is the name of the valley, in the western half of the peninsula of sinai, [i have described in detail the peninsula of sinai, its history, and the sacred places on it, in my book "durch gosen zum sinai," published in 1872. in depicting this scenery in the present romance, i have endeavored to reproduce the reality as closely as possible. he who has wandered through this wonderful mountain wilderness can never forget it. the valley now called "laba," bore the same name in the time of the pharaohs.] through which a long procession of human beings, and of beasts of burden, wended their way. it was winter, and yet the mid-day sun sent down glowing rays, which were reflected from the naked rocks. in front of the caravan marched a company of libyan soldiers, and another brought up the rear. each man was armed with a dagger and battle-axe, a shield and a lance, and was ready to use his weapons; for those whom they were escorting were prisoners from the emerald-mines, who had been convoyed to the shores of the red sea to carry thither the produce of the mines, and had received, as a return-load, provisions which had arrived from egypt, and which were to be carried to the storehouses of the mountain mines. bent and panting, they made their way along. each prisoner had a copper chain riveted round his ankles, and torn rags hanging round their loins, were the only clothing of these unhappy beings, who, gasping under the weight of the sacks they had to carry, kept their staring eyes fixed on the ground. if one of them threatened to sink altogether under his burden, he was refreshed by the whip of one of the horsemen, who accompanied the caravan. many a one found it hard to choose whether he could best endure the suffering of mere endurance, or the torture of the lash. no one spoke a word, neither the prisoners nor their guards; and even those who were flogged did not cry out, for their powers were exhausted, and in the souls of their drivers there was no more impulse of pity than there was a green herb on the rocks by the way. this melancholy procession moved silently onwards, like a procession of phantoms, and the ear was only made aware of it when now and then a low groan broke from one of the victims. the sandy path, trodden by their naked feet, gave no sound, the mountains seemed to withhold their shade, the light of clay was a torment--every thing far and near seemed inimical to the living. not a plant, not a creeping thing, showed itself against the weird forms of the barren grey and brown rocks, and no soaring bird tempted the oppressed wretches to raise their eyes to heaven. in the noontide heat of the previous day they had started with their loads from the harbor-creek. for two hours they had followed the shore of the glistening, blue-green sea, [the red sea--in hebrew and coptic the reedy sea--is of a lovely blue green color. according to the ancients it was named red either from its red banks or from the erythraeans, who were called the red people. on an early inscription it is called "the water of the red country." see "durch gosen zum sinai."] then they had climbed a rocky shoulder and crossed a small plateau. they had paused for their night's rest in the gorge which led to the mines; the guides and soldiers lighted fires, grouped themselves round them, and lay down to sleep under the shelter of a cleft in the rocks; the prisoners stretched themselves on the earth in the middle of the valley without any shelter, and shivering with the cold which suddenly succeeded the glowing heat of the day. the benumbed wretches now looked forward to the crushing misery of the morning's labor as eagerly as, a few hours since, they had longed for the night, and for rest. lentil-broth and hard bread in abundance, but a very small quantity of water was given to them before they started; then they set out through the gorge, which grew hotter and hotter, and through ravines where they could pass only one by one. every now and then it seemed as if the path came to an end, but each time it found an outlet, and went on--as endless as the torment of the wayfarers. mighty walls of rock composed the view, looking as if they were formed of angular masses of hewn stone piled up in rows; and of all the miners one, and one only, had eyes for these curious structures of the evervarious hand of nature. this one had broader shoulders than his companions, and his burden weighed on him comparatively lightly. "in this solitude," thought he, "which repels man, and forbids his passing his life here, the chnemu, the laborers who form the world, have spared themselves the trouble of filling up the seams, and rounding off the corners. how is it that man should have dedicated this hideous land--in which even the human heart seems to be hardened against all pity--to the merciful hathor? perhaps because it so sorely stands in need of the joy and peace which the loving goddess alone can bestow." "keep the line, huni!" shouted a driver. the man thus addressed, closed up to the next man, the panting leech nebsecht. we know the other stronger prisoner. it is pentaur, who had been entered as huni on the lists of mine-laborers, and was called by that name. the file moved on; at every step the ascent grew more rugged. red and black fragments of stone, broken as small as if by the hand of man, lay in great heaps, or strewed the path which led up the almost perpendicular cliff by imperceptible degrees. here another gorge opened before them, and this time there seemed to be no outlet. "load the asses less!" cried the captain of the escort to the prisoners. then he turned to the soldiers, and ordered them, when the beasts were eased, to put the extra burthens on the inen. putting forth their utmost strength, the overloaded men labored up the steep and hardly distinguishable mountain path. the man in front of pentaur, a lean old man, when half way up the hillside, fell in a heap under his load, and a driver, who in a narrow defile could not reach the bearers, threw a stone at him to urge him to a renewed effort. the old man cried out at the blow, and at the cry--the paraschites stricken down with stones--his own struggle with the mob--and the appearance of bent anat flashed into pentaur's lnernory. pity and a sense of his own healthy vigor prompted him to energy; he hastily snatched the sack from the shoulders of the old man, threw it over his own, helped up the fallen wretch, and finally men and beasts succeeded in mounting the rocky wall. the pulses throbbed in pentaur's temples, and he shuddered with horror, as he looked down from the height of the pass into the abyss below, and round upon the countless pinnacles and peaks, cliffs and precipices, in many-colored rocks-white and grey, sulphurous yellow, blood-red and ominous black. he recalled the sacred lake of muth in thebes, round which sat a hundred statues of the lion-headed goddess in black basalt, each on a pedestal; and the rocky peaks, which surrounded the valley at his feet, seemed to put on a semblance of life and to move and open their yawning jaws; through the wild rush of blood in his ears he fancied he heard them roar, and the load beyond his strength which he carried gave him a sensation as though their clutch was on his breast. nevertheless he reached the goal. the other prisoners flung their loads from their shoulders, and threw themselves down to rest. mechanically he did the same: his pulses beat more calmly, by degrees the visions faded from his senses, he saw and heard once more, and his brain recovered its balance. the old man and nebsecht were lying beside him. his grey-haired companion rubbed the swollen veins in his neck, and called down all the blessings of the gods upon his head; but the captain of the caravan cut him short, exclaiming: "you have strength for three, huni; farther on, we will load you more heavily." "how much the kindly gods care for our prayers for the blessing of others!" exclaimed nebsecht. "how well they know how to reward a good action!" "i am rewarded enough," said pentaur, looking kindly at the old man. "but you, you everlasting scoffer--you look pale. how do you feel?" "as if i were one of those donkeys there," replied the naturalist. "my knees shake like theirs, and i think and i wish neither more nor less than they do; that is to say--i would we were in our stalls." "if you can think," said pentaur smiling, "you are not so very bad." "i had a good thought just now, when you were staring up into the sky. the intellect, say the priestly sages, is a vivifying breath of the eternal spirit, and our soul is the mould or core for the mass of matter which we call a human being. i sought the spirit at first in the heart, then in the brain; but now i know that it resides in the arms and legs, for when i have strained them i find thought is impossible. i am too tired to enter on further evidence, but for the future i shall treat my legs with the utmost consideration." "quarrelling again you two? on again, men!" cried the driver. the weary wretches rose slowly, the beasts were loaded, and on went the pitiable procession, so as to reach the mines before sunset. the destination of the travellers was a wide valley, closed in by two high and rocky mountain-slopes; it was called ta mafka by the egyptians, dophka by the hebrews. the southern cliff-wall consisted of dark granite, the northern of red sandstone; in a distant branch of the valley lay the mines in which copper was found. in the midst of the valley rose a hill, surrounded by a wall, and crowned with small stone houses, for the guard, the officers, and the overseers. according to the old regulations, they were without roofs, but as many deaths and much sickness had occurred among the workmen in consequence of the cold nights, they had been slightly sheltered with palm-branches brought from the oasis of the alnalckites, at no great distance. on the uttermost peak of the hill, where it was most exposed to the wind, were the smelting furnaces, and a manufactory where a peculiar green glass was prepared, which was brought into the market under the name of mafkat, that is to say, emerald. the genuine precious stone was found farther to the south, on the western shore of the red sea, and was highly prized in egypt. our friends had already for more than a month belonged to the miningcommunity of the mafkat valley, and pentaur had never learned how it was that he had been brought hither with his companion nebsecht, instead of going to the sandstone quarries of chennu. that uarda's father had effected this change was beyond a doubt, and the poet trusted the rough but honest soldier who still kept near him, and gave him credit for the best intentions, although he had only spoken to him once since their departure from thebes. that was the first night, when he had come up to pentaur, and whispered: "i am looking after you. you will find the physician nebsecht here; but treat each other as enemies rather than as friends, if you do not wish to be parted." pentaur had communicated the soldier's advice to nebsecht, and he had followed it in his own way. it afforded him a secret pleasure to see how pentaur's life contradicted the belief in a just and beneficent ordering of the destinies of men; and the more he and the poet were oppressed, the more bitter was the irony, often amounting to extravagance, with which the mocking sceptic attacked him. he loved pentaur, for the poet had in his keeping the key which alone could give admission to the beautiful world which lay locked up in his own soul; but yet it was easy to him, if he thought they were observed, to play his part, and to overwhelm pentaur with words which, to the drivers, were devoid of meaning, and which made them laugh by the strange blundering fashion in which he stammered them out. "a belabored husk of the divine self-consciousness." "an advocate of righteousness hit on the mouth." "a juggler who makes as much of this worst of all possible worlds as if it were the best." "an admirer of the lovely color of his blue bruises." these and other terms of invective, intelligible only to himself and his butt, he could always pour out in new combinations, exciting pentaur to sharp and often witty rejoinders, equally unintelligible to the uninitiated. frequently their sparring took the form of a serious discussion, which served a double purpose; first their minds, accustomed to serious thought, found exercise in spite of the murderous pressure of the burden of forced labor, and secondly, they were supposed really to be enemies. they slept in the same court-yard, and contrived, now and then, to exchange a few words in secret; but by day nebsecht worked in the turquoise-diggings, and pentaur in the mines, for the careful chipping out of the precious stones from their stony matrix was the work best suited to the slight physician, while pentaur's giant-strength was fitted for hewing the ore out of the hard rock. the drivers often looked in surprise at his powerful strokes, as he flung his pick against the stone. the stupendous images that in such moments of wild energy rose before the poet's soul, the fearful or enchanting tones that rang in his spirit's ear-none could guess at. usually his excited fancy showed him the form of bent-anat, surrounded by a host of men--and these he seemed to fell to the earth, one-by-one, as-he hewed the rock. often in the middle of his work he would stop, throw down his pick-axe, and spread out his arms--but only to drop them with a deep groan, and wipe the sweat from his brow. the overseers did not know what to think of this powerful youth, who often was as gentle as a child, and then seemed possessed of that demon to which so many of the convicts fell victims. he had indeed become a riddle to himself; for how was it that he--the gardener's son, brought up in the peaceful temple of seti--ever since that night by the house of the paraschites had had such a perpetual craving for conflict and struggle? the weary gangs were gone to rest; a bright fire still blazed in front of the house of the superintendent of the mines, and round it squatted in a circle the overseers and the subalterns of the troops. "put the wine-jar round again," said the captain, "for we must hold grave council. yesterday i had orders from the regent to send half the guard to pelusium. he requires soldiers, but we are so few in number that if the convicts knew it they might make short work of us, even without arms. there are stones enough hereabouts, and by day they have their hammer and chisel. things are worst among the hebrews in the copper-mines; they are a refractory crew that must be held tight. you know me well, fear is unknown to me--but i feel great anxiety. the last fuel is now burning in this fire, and the smelting furnaces and the glass-foundry must not stand idle. tomorrow we must send men to raphidim [the oasis at the foot of horeb, where the jews under joshua's command conquered the amalekites, while aaron and hur held up moses' arms. exodus 17, 8.] to obtain charcoal from the amalekites. they owe us a hundred loads still. load the prisoners with some copper, to make them tired and the natives civil. what can we do to procure what we want, and yet not to weaken the forces here too much?" various opinions were given, and at last it was settled that a small division, guarded by a few soldiers, should be sent out every day to supply only the daily need for charcoal. it was suggested that the most dangerous of the convicts should be fettered together in pairs to perform their duties. the superintendent was of opinion that two strong men fettered together would be more to be feared if only they acted in concert. "then chain a strong one to a weak one," said the chief accountant of the mines, whom the egyptians called the 'scribe of the metals.' "and fetter those together who are enemies." "the colossal huni, for instance, to that puny spat row, the stuttering nebsecht," said a subaltern. "i was thinking of that very couple," said the accountant laughing. three other couples were selected, at first with some laughter, but finally with serious consideration, and uarda's father was sent with the drivers as an escort. on the following morning pentaur and nebsecht were fettered together with a copper chain, and when the sun was at its height four pairs of prisoners, heavily loaded with copper, set out for the oasis of the amalekites, accompanied by six soldiers and the son of the paraschites, to fetch fuel for the smelting furnaces. they rested near the town of alus, and then went forward again between bare walls of greyish-green and red porphyry. these cliffs rose higher and higher, but from time to time, above the lower range, they could see the rugged summit of some giant of the range, though, bowed under their heavy loads, they paid small heed to it. the sun was near setting when they reached the little sanctuary of the 'emerald-hathor.' a few grey and black birds here flew towards them, and pentaur gazed at them with delight. how long be had missed the sight of a bird, and the sound of their chirp and song! nebsecht said: "there are some birds--we must be near water." and there stood the first palm-tree! now the murmur of the brook was perceptible, and its tiny sound touched the thirsty souls of the travellers as rain falls on dry grass. on the left bank of the stream an encampment of egyptian soldiers formed a large semicircle, enclosing three large tents made of costly material striped with blue and white, and woven with gold thread. nothing was to be seen of the inhabitants of these tents, but when the prisoners had passed them, and the drivers were exchanging greetings with the outposts, a girl, in the long robe of an egyptian, came towards them, and looked at them. pentaur started as if he had seen a ghost; but nebsecht gave expression to his astonishment in a loud cry. at the same instant a driver laid his whip across their shoulders, and cried laughing: "you may hit each other as hard as you like with words, but not with your hands." then be turned to his companions, and said: "did you see the pretty girl there, in front of the tent?" "it is nothing to us!" answered the man he addressed. "she belongs to the princess's train. she has been three weeks here on a visit to the holy shrine of hathor." "she must have committed some heavy sin," replied the other. "if she were one of us, she would have been set to sift sand in the diggings, or grind colors, and not be living here in a gilt tent. where is our redbeard?" uarda's father had lingered a little behind the party, for the girl had signed to him, and exchanged a few words with him. "have you still an eye for the fair ones?" asked the youngest of the drivers when be rejoined the gang. "she is a waiting maid of the princess," replied the soldier not without embarrassment. "to-morrow morning we are to carry a letter from her to the scribe of the mines, and if we encamp in the neighborhood she will send us some wine for carrying it." "the old red-beard scents wine as a fox scents a goose. let us encamp here; one never knows what may be picked up among the mentu, and the superintendent said we were to encamp outside the oasis. put down your sacks, men! here there is fresh water, and perhaps a few dates and sweet manna for you to eat with it. ["man" is the name still given by the bedouins of sinai to the sweet gum which exudes from the tamarix mannifera. it is the result of the puncture of an insect, and occurs chiefly in may. by many it is supposed to be the manna of the bible.] but keep the peace, you two quarrelsome fellows--huni and nebsecht." bent-anat's journey to the emerald-hathor was long since ended. as far as keft she had sailed down the nile with her escort, from thence she had crossed the desert by easy marches, and she had been obliged to wait a full week in the port on the red sea, which was chiefly inhabited by phoenicians, for a ship which had finally brought her to the little seaport of pharan. from pharan she had crossed the mountains to the oasis, where the sanctuary she was to visit stood on the northern side. the old priests, who conducted the service of the goddess, had received the daughter of rameses with respect, and undertook to restore her to cleanness by degrees with the help of the water from the mountain-stream which watered the palm-grove of the amalekites, of incense-burning, of pious sentences, and of a hundred other ceremonies. at last the goddess declared herself satisfied, and bent-anat wished to start for the north and join her father, but the commander of the escort, a grey-headed ethiopian field officer--who had been promoted to a high grade by ani-explained to the chamberlain that he had orders to detain the princess in the oasis until her departure was authorized by the regent himself. bent-anat now hoped for the support of her father, for her brother rameri, if no accident had occurred to him, might arrive any day. but in vain. the position of the ladies was particularly unpleasant, for they felt that they had been caught in a trap, and were in fact prisoners. in addition to this their ethiopian escort had quarrelled with the natives of the oasis, and every day skirmishes took place under their eyes-indeed lately one of these fights had ended in bloodshed. bent-anat was sick at heart. the two strong pinions of her soul, which had always borne her so high above other women--her princely pride and her bright frankness--seemed quite broken; she felt that she had loved once, never to love again, and that she, who had sought none of her happiness in dreams, but all in work, had bestowed the best half of her identity on a vision. pentaur's image took a more and more vivid, and at the same time nobler and loftier, aspect in her mind; but he himself had died for her, for only once had a letter reached them from egypt, and that was from katuti to nefert. after telling her that late intelligence established the statement that her husband had taken a prince's daughter, who had been made prisoner, to his tent as his share of the booty, she added the information that the poet pentaur, who had been condemned to forced labor, had not reached the mountain mines, but, as was supposed, had perished on the road. nefert still held to her immovable belief that her husband was faithful to his love for her, and the magic charm of a nature made beautiful by its perfect mastery over a deep and pure passion made itself felt in these sad and heavy days. it seemed as though she had changed parts with bent-anat. always hopeful, every day she foretold help from the king for the next; in truth she was ready to believe that, when mena learned from rameri that she was with the princess, he himself would come to fetch them if his duties allowed it. in her hours of most lively expectation she could go so far as to picture how the party in the tents would be divided, and who would bear bent-anat company if mena took her with him to his camp, on what spot of the oasis it would be best to pitch it, and much more in the same vein. uarda could very well take her place with bent-anat, for the child had developed and improved on the journey. the rich clothes which the princess had given her became her as if she had never worn any others; she could obey discreetly, disappear at the right moment, and, when she was invited, chatter delightfully. her laugh was silvery, and nothing consoled bent-anat so much as to hear it. her songs too pleased the two friends, though the few that she knew were grave and sorrowful. she had learned them by listening to old hekt, who often used to play on a lute in the dusk, and who, when she perceived that uarda caught the melodies, had pointed out her faults, and given her advice. "she may some day come into my hands," thought the witch, "and the better she sings, the better she will be paid." bent-anat too tried to teach uarda, but learning to read was not easy to the girl, however much pains she might take. nevertheless, the princess would not give up the spelling, for here, at the foot of the immense sacred mountain at whose summit she gazed with mixed horror and longing, she was condemned to inactivity, which weighed the more heavily on her in proportion as those feelings had to be kept to herself which she longed to escape from in work. uarda knew the origin of her mistress's deep grief, and revered her for it, as if it were something sacred. often she would speak of pentaur and of his father, and always in such a manner that the princess could not guess that she knew of their love. when the prisoners were passing bent-anat's tent, she was sitting within with nefert, and talking, as had become habitual in the hours of dusk, of her father, of mena, rameri, and pentaur. "he is still alive," asserted nefert. "my mother, you see, says that no one knows with certainty what became of him. if he escaped, he beyond a doubt tried to reach the king's camp, and when we get there you will find him with your father." the princess looked sadly at the ground. nefert looked affectionately at her, and asked: "are you thinking of the difference in rank which parts you from the man you have chosen?" "the man to whom i offer my hand, i put in the rank of a prince," said bent-anat. "but if i could set pentaur on a throne, as master of the world, he would still be greater and better than i." "but your father?" asked nefert doubtfully. "he is my friend, he will listen to me and understand me. he shall know everything when i see him; i know his noble and loving heart." both were silent for some time; then bent-anat spoke: "pray have lights brought, i want to finish my weaving." nefert rose, went to the door of the tent, and there met uarda; she seized nefert's hand, and silently drew her out into the air. "what is the matter, child? you are trembling," nefert exclaimed. "my father is here," answered uarda hastily. "he is escorting some prisoners from the mines of mafkat. among them there are two chained together, and one of them--do not be startled--one of them is the poet pentaur. stop, for god's sake, stop, and hear me. twice before i have seen my father when he has been here with convicts. to-day we must rescue pentaur; but the princess must know nothing of it, for if my plan fails--" "child! girl!" interrupted nefert eagerly. "how can i help you?" "order the steward to give the drivers of the gang a skin of wine in the name of the princess, and out of bent-anat's case of medicines take the phial which contains the sleeping draught, which, in spite of your wish, she will not take. i will wait here, and i know how to use it." nefert immediately found the steward, and ordered him to follow uarda with a skin of wine. then she went back to the princess's tent, and opened the medicine case. [a medicine case, belonging to a more ancient period than the reign of rameses, is preserved in the berlin museum.] "what do you want?" asked bent-anat. "a remedy for palpitation," replied nefert; she quietly took the flask she needed, and in a few minutes put it into uarda's hand. the girl asked the steward to open the wine-skin, and let her taste the liquor. while she pretended to drink it, she poured the whole contents of the phial into the wine, and then let bent-anat's bountiful present be carried to the thirsty drivers. she herself went towards the kitchen tent, and found a young amalekite sitting on the ground with the princess's servants. he sprang up as soon as he saw the damsel. "i have brought four fine partridges," [a brook springs on the peak called by the sinaitic monks mr. st. katherine, which is called the partridge's spring, and of which many legends are told. for instance, god created it for the partridges which accompanied the angels who carried st. katharine of alexandria to her tomb on sinai.] he said, "which i snared myself, and i have brought this turquoise for you--my brother found it in a rock. this stone brings good luck, and is good for the eyes; it gives victory over our enemies, and keeps away bad dreams." "thank you!" said uarda, and taking the boy's hand, as he gave her the sky-blue stone, she led him forward into the dusk. "listen, salich" she said softly, as soon as she thought they were far enough from the others. "you are a good boy, and the maids told me that you said i was a star that had come down from the sky to become a woman. no one says such a thing as that of any one they do not like very much; and i know you like me, for you show me that you do every day by bringing me flowers, when you carry the game that your father gets to the steward. tell me, will you do me and the princess too a very great service? yes? --and willingly? yes? i knew you would! now listen. a friend of the great lady bent-anat, who will come here to-night, must be hidden for a day, perhaps several days, from his pursuers. can he, or rather can they, for there will probably be two, find shelter and protection in your father's house, which lies high up there on the sacred mountain?" "whoever i take to my father," said the boy, "will be made welcome; and we defend our guests first, and then ourselves. where are the strangers?" "they will arrive in a few hours. will you wait here till the moon is well up?" "till the last of all the thousand moons that vanish behind the hills is set." "well then, wait on the other side of the stream, and conduct the man to your house, who repeats my name three times. you know my name?" "i call you silver-star, but the others call you uarda." "lead the strangers to your hut, and, if they are received there by your father, come back and tell me. i will watch for you here at the door of the tent. i am poor, alas! and cannot reward you, but the princess will thank your father as a princess should. be watchful, salich!" the girl vanished, and went to the drivers of the gang of prisoners, wished them a merry and pleasant evening, and then hastened back to bentanat, who anxiously stroked her abundant hair, and asked her why she was so pale. "lie down," said the princess kindly, "you are feverish. only look, nefert, i can see the blood coursing through the blue veins in her forehead." meanwhile the drivers drank, praised the royal wine, and the lucky day on which they drank it; and when uarda's father suggested that the prisoners too should have a mouthful one of his fellow soldiers cried: "aye, let the poor beasts be jolly too for once." the red-beard filled a large beaker, and offered it first to a forger and his fettered companion, then he approached pentaur, and whispered: "do not drink any-keep awake!" as he was going to warn the physician too, one of his companions came between them, and offering his tankard to nebsecht said: "here mumbler, drink; see him pull! his stuttering mouth is spry enough for drinking!" chapter xxxv. the hours passed gaily with the drinkers, then they grew more and more sleepy. ere the moon was high in the heavens, while they were all sleeping, with the exception of kaschta and pentaur, the soldier rose softly. he listened to the breathing of his companions, then he approached the poet, unfastened the ring which fettered his ankle to that of nebsecht, and endeavored to wake the physician, but in vain. "follow me!" cried he to the poet; he took nebsecht on his shoulders, and went towards the spot near the stream which uarda had indicated. three times he called his daughter's name, the young amalekite appeared, and the soldier said decidedly: "follow this man, i will take care of nebsecht." "i will not leave him," said pentaur. "perhaps water will wake him." they plunged him in the brook, which half woke him, and by the help of his companions, who now pushed and now dragged him, he staggered and stumbled up the rugged mountain path, and before midnight they reached their destination, the hut of the amalekite. the old hunter was asleep, but his son aroused him, and told him what uarda had ordered and promised. but no promises were needed to incite the worthy mountaineer to hospitality. he received the poet with genuine friendliness, laid the sleeping leech on a mat, prepared a couch for pentaur of leaves and skins, called his daughter to wash his feet, and offered him his own holiday garment in the place of the rags that covered his body. pentaur stretched himself out on the humble couch, which to him seemed softer than the silken bed of a queen, but on which nevertheless he could not sleep, for the thoughts and fancies that filled his heart were too overpowering and bewildering. the stars still sparkled in the heavens when he sprang from his bed of skins, lifted nebsecht on to it, and rushed out into the open air. a fresh mountain spring flowed close to the hunter's hut. he went to it, and bathed his face in the ice-cold water, and let it flow over his body and limbs. he felt as if he must cleanse himself to his very soul, not only from the dust of many weeks, but from the rebellion and despondency, the ignominy and bitterness, and the contact with vice and degradation. when at last he left the spring, and returned to the little house, he felt clean and fresh as on the morning of a feast-day at the temple of seti, when he had bathed and dressed himself in robes of snow-white linen. he took the hunter's holiday dress, put it on, and went out of doors again. the enormous masses of rock lay dimly before him, like storm-clouds, and over his head spread the blue heavens with their thousand stars. the soothing sense of freedom and purity raised his soul, and the air that he breathed was so fresh and light, that he sprang up the path to the summit of the peak as if he were borne on wings or carried by invisible hands. a mountain goat which met him, turned from him, and fled bleating, with his mate, to a steep peak of rock, but pentaur said to the frightened beasts: "i shall do nothing to you--not i" he paused on a little plateau at the foot of the jagged granite peak of the mountain. here again he heard the murmur of a spring, the grass under his feet was damp, and covered with a film of ice, in which were mirrored the stars, now gradually fading. he looked up at the lights in the sky, those never-tarrying, and yet motionless wanderers-away, to the mountain heights around him-down, into the gorge below--and far off, into the distance. the dusk slowly grew into light, the mysterious forms of the mountainchain took shape and stood up with their shining points, the light clouds were swept away like smoke. thin vapors rose from the oasis and the other valleys at his feet, at first in heavy masses, then they parted and were wafted, as if in sport, above and beyond him to the sky. far below him soared a large eagle, the only living creature far or near. a solemn and utter silence surrounded him, and when the eagle swooped down and vanished from his sight, and the mist rolled lower into the valley, he felt that here, alone, he was high above all other living beings, and standing nearer to the divinity. he drew his breath fully and deeply, he felt as he had felt in the first hours after his initiation, when for the first time he was admitted to the holy of holies--and yet quite different. instead of the atmosphere loaded with incense, he breathed a light pure air; and the deep stillness of the mountain solitude possessed his soul more strongly than the chant of the priests. here, it seemed to him, that the divine being would hear the lightest murmur of his lips, though indeed his heart was so full of gratitude and devotion that his impulse was to give expression to his mighty flow of feelings in jubilant song. but his tongue seemed tied; he knelt down in silence, to pray and to praise. then he looked at the panorama round him. where was the east which in egypt was clearly defined by the long nile range? down there where it was beginning to be light over the oasis. to his right hand lay the south, the sacred birth-place of the nile, the home of the gods of the cataracts; but here flowed no mighty stream, and where was there a shrine for the visible manifestation of osiris and isis; of horns, born of a lotus flower in a thicket of papyrus; of rennut, the goddess of blessings, and of zeta? to which of them could he here lift his hands in prayer? a faint breeze swept by, the mist vanished like a restless shade at the word of the exorcist, the many-pointed crown of sinai stood out in sharp relief, and below them the winding valleys, and the dark colored rippling surface of the lake, became distinctly visible. all was silent, all untouched by the hand of man yet harmonized to one great and glorious whole, subject to all the laws of the universe, pervaded and filled by the divinity. he would fain have raised his hand in thanksgiving to apheru, "the guide on the way;" but he dared not; and how infinitely small did the gods now seem to him, the gods he had so often glorified to the multitude in inspired words, the gods that had no meaning, no dwelling-place, no dominion but by the nile. "to ye," he murmured, "i cannot pray! here where my eye can pierce the distance, as if i myself were a god-here i feel the presence of the one, here he is near me and with me--i will call upon him and praise him!" and throwing up his arms he cried aloud: "thou only one! thou only one! thou only one!" he said no more; but a tide of song welled up in his breast as he spoke--a flood of thankfulness and praise. when he rose from his knees, a man was standing by him; his eyes were piercing and his tall figure had the dignity of a king, in spite of his herdsman's dress. "it is well for you!" said the stranger in deep slow accents. "you seek the true god." pentaur looked steadily into the face of the bearded man before him. "i know you now," he said. "you are mesu.--[moses]--i was but a boy when you left the temple of seti, but your features are stamped on my soul. ameni initiated me, as well as you, into the knowledge of the one god." "he knows him not," answered the other, looking thoughtfully to the eastern horizon, which every moment grew brighter. the heavens glowed with purple, and the granite peaks, each sheathed in a film of ice, sparkled and shone like dark diamonds that had been dipped in light. the day-star rose, and pentaur turned to it, and prostrated himself as his custom was. when he rose, mesu also was kneeling on the earth, but his back was turned to the sun. when he had ended his prayer, pentaur said, "why do you turn your back on the manifestation of the sun-god? we were taught to look towards him when he approaches." "because i," said his grave companion, "pray to another god than yours. the sun and stars are but as toys in his hand, the earth is his footstool, the storm is his breath, and the sea is in his sight as the drops on the grass." "teach me to know the mighty one whom you worship!" exclaimed pentaur. "seek him," said mesu, "and you will find him; for you have passed through misery and suffering, and on this spot on such a morning as this was he revealed to me." the stranger turned away, and disappeared behind a rock from the enquiring gaze of pentaur, who fixed his eyes on the distance. then he thoughtfully descended the valley, and went towards the hut of the hunter. he stayed his steps when he heard men's voices, but the rocks hid the speakers from his sight. presently he saw the party approaching; the son of his host, a man in egyptian dress, a lady of tall stature, near whom a girl tripped lightly, and another carried in a litter by slaves. pentaur's heart beat wildly, for he recognized bent-anat and her companions. they disappeared by the hunter's cottage, but he stood still, breathing painfully, spell-bound to the cliff by which he stood --a long, long time--and did not stir. he did not hear a light step, that came near to him, and died away again, he did not feel that the sun began to cast fierce beams on him, and on the porphyry cliff behind him, he did not see a woman now coming quickly towards him; but, like a deaf man who has suddenly acquired the sense of hearing, he started when he heard his name spoken--by whose lips? "pentaur!" she said again; the poet opened his arms, and bent-anat fell upon his breast; and he held her to him, clasped, as though he must hold her there and never part from her all his life long. meanwhile the princess's companions were resting by the hunter's little house. "she flew into his arms--i saw it," said uarda. "never shall i forget it. it was as if the bright lake there had risen up to embrace the mountain." "where do you find such fancies, child ?" cried nefert. "in my heart, deep in my heart!" cried uarda. "i am so unspeakably happy." "you saved him and rewarded him for his goodness; you may well be happy." "it is not only that," said uarda. "i was in despair, and now i see that the gods are righteous and loving." mena's wife nodded to her, and said with a sigh: "they are both happy!" "and they deserve to be!" exclaimed uarda. "i fancy the goddess of truth is like bent-anat, and there is not another man in egypt like pentaur." nefert was silent for awhile; then she asked softly: "did you ever see mena?" "how should i?" replied the girl. "wait a little while, and your turn will come. i believe that to-day i can read the future like a prophetess. but let us see if nebsecht lies there, and is still asleep. the draught i put into the wine must have been strong." "it was," answered nefert, following her into the hut. the physician was still lying on the bed, and sleeping with his mouth wide open. uarda knelt down by his side, looked in his face, and said: "he is clever and knows everything, but how silly he looks now! i will wake him." she pulled a blade of grass out of the heap on which he was lying, and saucily tickled his nose. nebsecht raised himself, sneezed, but fell back asleep again; uarda laughed out with her clear silvery tones. then she blushed--"that is not right," she said, "for he is good and generous." she took the sleeper's hand, pressed it to her lips, and wiped the drops from his brow. then he awoke, opened his eyes, and muttered half in a dream still: "uarda--sweet uarda." the girl started up and fled, and nefert followed her. when nebsecht at last got upon his feet and looked round him, he found himself alone in a strange house. he went out of doors, where he found bent-anat's little train anxiously discussing things past and to come. chapter xxxvi. the inhabitants of the oasis had for centuries been subject to the pharaohs, and paid them tribute; and among the rights granted to them in return, no egyptian soldier might cross their border and territory without their permission. the ethiopians had therefore pitched bent-anat's tents and their own camp outside these limits; but various transactions soon took place between the idle warriors and the amalekites, which now and then led to quarrels, and which one evening threatened serious consequences, when some drunken soldiers had annoyed the amalekite women while they were drawing water. this morning early one of the drivers on awaking had missed pentaur and nebsecht, and he roused his comrades, who had been rejoined by uarda's father. the enraged guard of the gang of prisoners hastened to the commandant of the ethiopians, and informed him that two of his prisoners had escaped, and were no doubt being kept in concealment by the amalekites. the amalekites met the requisition to surrender the fugitives, of whom they knew nothing, with words of mockery, which so enraged the officer that he determined to search the oasis throughout by force, and when he found his emissaries treated with scorn he advanced with the larger part of his troops on to the free territory of the amalekites. the sons of the desert flew to arms; they retired before the close order of the egyptian troops, who followed them, confident of victory, to a point where the valley widens and divides on each side of a rocky hill. behind this the larger part of the amalekite forces were lying in ambush, and as soon as the unsuspicious ethiopians had marched past the hill, they threw themselves on the rear of the astonished invaders, while those in front turned upon them, and flung lances and arrows at the soldiers, of whom very few escaped. among them, however, was the commanding officer, who, foaming with rage and only slightly wounded, put himself at the head of the remainder of bent-anat's body-guard, ordered the escort of the prisoners also to follow him, and once more advanced into the oasis. that the princess might escape him had never for an instant occurred to him, but as soon as the last of her keepers had disappeared, bent-anat explained to her chamberlain and her companions that now or never was the moment to fly. all her people were devoted to her; they loaded themselves with the most necessary things for daily use, took the litters and beasts of burden with them, and while the battle was raging in the valley, salich guided them up the heights of sinai to his father's house. it was on the way thither that uarda had prepared the princess for the meeting she might expect at the hunter's cottage, and we have seen how and where the princess found the poet. hand in hand they wandered together along the mountain path till they came to a spot shaded by a projection of the rock, pentaur pulled some moss to make a seat, they reclined on it side by side, and there opened their hearts, and told each other of their love and of their sufferings, their wanderings and escapes. at noonday the hunter's daughter came to offer them a pitcher full of goat's milk, and bent-anat filled the gourd again and again for the man she loved; and waiting upon him thus, her heart overflowed with pride, and his with the humble desire to be permitted to sacrifice his blood and life for her. hitherto they had been so absorbed in the present and the past, that they had not given a thought to the future, and while they repeated a hundred times what each had long since known, and yet could never tire of hearing, they forgot the immediate changes which was hanging over them. after their humble meal, the surging flood of feeling which, ever since his morning devotions, had overwhelmed the poet's soul, grew calmer; he had felt as if borne through the air, but now he set foot, so to speak, on the earth again, and seriously considered with bent-anat what steps they must take in the immediate future. the light of joy, which beamed in their eyes, was little in accordance with the grave consultation they held, as, hand in hand, they descended to the hut of their humble host. the hunter, guided by his daughter, met them half way, and with him a tall and dignified man in the full armor of a chief of the amalekites. both bowed and kissed the earth before bent-anat and pentaur. they had heard that the princess was detained in the oasis by force by the ethiopian troops, and the desert-prince, abocharabos, now informed them, not without pride, that the ethiopian soldiers, all but a few who were his prisoners, had been exterminated by his people; at the same time he assured pentaur, whom he supposed to be a son of the king, and bent-anat, that he and his were entirely devoted to the pharaoh rameses, who had always respected their rights. "they are accustomed," he added, "to fight against the cowardly dogs of kush; but we are men, and we can fight like the lions of our wilds. if we are outnumbered we hide like the goats in clefts of the rocks." bent-anat, who was pleased with the daring man, his flashing eyes, his aquiline nose, and his brown face which bore the mark of a bloody swordcut, promised him to commend him and his people to her father's favor, and told him of her desire to proceed as soon as possible to the king's camp under the protection of pentaur, her future husband. the mountain chief had gazed attentively at pentaur and at bent-anat while she spoke; then he said: "thou, princess, art like the moon, and thy companion is like the sun-god dusare. besides abocharabos," and he struck his breast, "and his wife, i know no pair that are like you two. i myself will conduct you to hebron with some of my best men of war. but haste will be necessary, for i must be back before the traitor who now rules over mizraim,--[the semitic name of egypt]--and who persecutes you, can send fresh forces against us. now you can go down again to the tents, not a hen is missing. to-morrow before daybreak we will be off." at the door of the hut pentaur was greeted by the princess's companions. the chamberlain looked at him not without anxious misgiving. the king, when he departed, had, it is true, given him orders to obey bent-anat in every particular, as if she were the queen herself; but her choice of such a husband was a thing unheard of, and how would the king take it? nefert rejoiced in the splendid person of the poet, and frequently repeated that he was as like her dead uncle--the father of paaker, the chief-pioneer--as if he were his younger brother. uarda never wearied of contemplating him and her beloved princess. she no longer looked upon him as a being of a higher order; but the happiness of the noble pair seemed to her an embodied omen of happiness for nefert's love--perhaps too for her own. nebsecht kept modestly in the background. the headache, from which he had long been suffering, had disappeared in the fresh mountain air. when pentaur offered him his hand he exclaimed: "here is an end to all my jokes and abuse! a strange thing is this fate of men. henceforth i shall always have the worst of it in any dispute with you, for all the discords of your life have been very prettily resolved by the great master of harmony, to whom you pray." "you speak almost as if you were sorry; but every thing will turn out happily for you too." "hardly!" replied the surgeon, "for now i see it clearly. every man is a separate instrument, formed even before his birth, in an occult workshop, of good or bad wood, skilfully or unskilfully made, of this shape or the other; every thing in his life, no matter what we call it, plays upon him, and the instrument sounds for good or evil, as it is well or ill made. you are an aeolian harp--the sound is delightful, whatever breath of fate may touch it; i am a weather-cock--i turn whichever way the wind blows, and try to point right, but at the same time i creak, so that it hurts my own ears and those of other people. i am content if now and then a steersman may set his sails rightly by my indication; though after all, it is all the same to me. i will turn round and round, whether others look at me or no--what does it signify?" when pentaur and the princess took leave of the hunter with many gifts, the sun was sinking, and the toothed peaks of sinai glowed like rubies, through which shone the glow of half a world on fire. the journey to the royal camp was begun the next morning. abocharabos, the amalekite chief, accompanied the caravan, to which uarda's father also attached himself; he had been taken prisoner in the struggle with the natives, but at bent-anat's request was set at liberty. at their first halting place he was commanded to explain how he had succeeded in having pentaur taken to the mines, instead of to the quarries of chennu. "i knew," said the soldier in his homely way, "from uarda where this man, who had risked his life for us poor folks, was to be taken, and i said to myself--i must save him. but thinking is not my trade, and i never can lay a plot. it would very likely have come to some violent act, that would have ended badly, if i had not had a hint from another person, even before uarda told me of what threatened pentaur. this is how it was. "i was to convoy the prisoners, who were condemned to work in the mafkat mines, across the river to the place they start from. in the harbor of thebes, on the other side, the poor wretches were to take leave of their friends; i have seen it a hundred times, and i never can get used to it, and yet one can get hardened to most things! their loud cries, and wild howls are not the worst--those that scream the most i have always found are the first to get used to their fate; but the pale ones, whose lips turn white, and whose teeth chatter as if they were freezing, and whose eyes stare out into vacancy without any tears--those go to my heart. there was all the usual misery, both noisy and silent. but the man i was most sorry for was one i had known for a long time; his name was huni, and he belonged to the temple of amon, where he held the place of overseer of the attendants on the sacred goat. i had often met him when i was on duty to watch the laborers who were completing the great pillared hall, and he was respected by every one, and never failed in his duty. once, however, he had neglected it; it was that very night which you all will remember when the wolves broke into the temple, and tore the rams, and the sacred heart was laid in the breast of the prophet rui. some one, of course, must be punished, and it fell on poor huni, who for his carelessness was condemned to forced labor in the mines of mafkat. his successor will keep a sharp look out! no one came to see him off, though i know he had a wife and several children. he was as pale as this cloth, and was one of the sort whose grief eats into their heart. i went up to him, and asked him why no one came with him. he had taken leave of them at home, he answered, that his children might not see him mixed up with forgers and murderers. eight poor little brats were left unprovided for with their mother, and a little while before a fire had destroyed everything they possessed. there was not a crumb to stop their little squalling mouths. he did not tell me all this straight out; a word fell from him now and then, like dates from a torn sack. i picked it up bit by bit, and when he saw i felt for him he grew fierce and said: 'they may send me to the gold mines or cut me to pieces, as far as i am concerned, but that the little ones should starve that--that,' and he struck his forehead. then i left him to say good bye to uarda, and on the way i kept repeating to myself 'that-that,' and saw before me the man and his eight brats. if i were rich, thought i, there is a man i would help. when i got to the little one there, she told me how much money the leech nebsecht had given her, and offered to give it me to save pentaur; then it passed through my mind--that may go to hum's children, and in return he will let himself be shipped off to ethiopia. i ran to the harbor, spoke to the man, found him ready and willing, gave the money to his wife, and at night when the prisoners were shipped i contrived the exchange pentaur came with me on my boat under the name of the other, and huni went to the south, and was called pentaur. i had not deceived the man into thinking he would stop at chennu. i told him he would be taken on to ethiopia, for it is always impossible to play a man false when you know it is quite easy to do it. it is very strange! it is a real pleasure to cheat a cunning fellow or a sturdy man, but who would take in a child or a sick person? huni certainly would have gone into the fire-pots of hell without complaining, and he left me quite cheerfully. the rest, and how we got here, you yourselves know. in syria at this time of year you will suffer a good deal from rain. i know the country, for i have escorted many prisoners of war into egypt, and i was there five years with the troops of the great mohar, father of the chief pioneer paaker." bent-anat thanked the brave fellow, and pentaur and nebsecht continued the narrative. "during the voyage," said nebsecht, "i was uneasy about pentaur, for i saw how he was pining, but in the desert he seemed to rouse himself, and often whispered sweet little songs that he had composed while we marched." "that is strange," said bent-anat, "for i also got better in the desert." "repeat the verses on the beytharan plant," said nebsecht. "do you know the plant?" asked the poet. "it grows here in many places; here it is. only smell how sweet it is if you bruise the fleshy stem and leaves. my little verse is simple enough; it occurred to me like many other songs of which you know all the best." "they all praise the same goddess," said nebsecht laughing. "but let us have the verses," said bent-anat. the poet repeated in a low voice: "how often in the desert i have seen the small herb, beytharan, in modest green! in every tiny leaf and gland and hair sweet perfume is distilled, and scents the air. how is it that in barren sandy ground this little plant so sweet a gift has found? and that in me, in this vast desert plain, the sleeping gift of song awakes again?" "do you not ascribe to the desert what is due to love?" said nefert. "i owe it to both; but i must acknowledge that the desert is a wonderful physician for a sick soul. we take refuge from the monotony that surrounds us in our own reflections; the senses are at rest; and here, undisturbed and uninfluenced from without, it is given to the mind to think out every train of thought to the end, to examine and exhaust every feeling to its finest shades. in the city, one is always a mere particle in a great whole, on which one is dependent, to which one must contribute, and from which one must accept something. the solitary wanderer in the desert stands quite alone; he is in a manner freed from the ties which bind him to any great human community; he must fill up the void by his own identity, and seek in it that which may give his existence significance and consistency. here, where the present retires into the background, the thoughtful spirit finds no limits however remote." "yes; one can think well in the desert," said nebsecht. "much has become clear to me here that in egypt i only guessed at." "what may that be?" asked pentaur. "in the first place," replied nebsecht, "that we none of us really know anything rightly; secondly that the ass may love the rose, but the rose will not love the ass; and the third thing i will keep to myself, because it is my secret, and though it concerns all the world no one would trouble himself about it. my lord chamberlain, how is this? you know exactly how low people must bow before the princess in proportion to their rank, and have no idea how a back-bone is made." "why should i?" asked the chamberlain. "i have to attend to outward things, while you are contemplating inward things; else your hair might be smoother, and your dress less stained." the travellers reached the old cheta city of hebron without accident; there they took leave of abocharabos, and under the safe escort of egyptian troops started again for the north. at hebron pentaur parted from the princess, and bent-anat bid him farewell without complaining. uarda's father, who had learned every path and bridge in syria, accompanied the poet, while the physician nebsecht remained with the ladies, whose good star seemed to have deserted them with pentaur's departure, for the violent winter rains which fell in the mountains of samaria destroyed the roads, soaked through the tents, and condemned them frequently to undesirable delays. at megiddo they were received with high honors by the commandant of the egyptian garrison, and they were compelled to linger here some days, for nefert, who had been particularly eager to hurry forward, was taken ill, and nebsecht was obliged to forbid her proceeding at this season. uarda grew pale and thoughtful, and bent-anat saw with anxiety that the tender roses were fading from the cheeks of her pretty favorite; but when she questioned her as to what ailed her she gave an evasive answer. she had never either mentioned rameri's name before the princess, nor shown her her mother's jewel, for she felt as if all that had passed between her and the prince was a secret which did not belong to her alone. yet another reason sealed her lips. she was passionately devoted to bentanat, and she told herself that if the princess heard it all, she would either blame her brother or laugh at his affection as at a child's play, and she felt as if in that case she could not love rameri's sister any more. a messenger had been sent on from the first frontier station to the king's camp to enquire by which road the princess, and her party should leave megiddo. but the emissary returned with a short and decided though affectionate letter written by the king's own hand, to his daughter, desiring her not to quit megiddo, which was a safe magazine and arsenal for the army, strongly fortified and garrisoned, as it commanded the roads from the sea into north and central palestine. decisive encounters, he said, were impending, and she knew that the egyptians always excluded their wives and daughters from their war train, and regarded them as the best reward of victory when peace was obtained. while the ladies were waiting in megiddo, pentaur and his red-bearded guide proceeded northwards with a small mounted escort, with which they were supplied by the commandant of hebron. he himself rode with dignity, though this journey was the first occasion on which he had sat on horseback. he seemed to have come into the world with the art of riding born with him. as soon as he had learned from his companions how to grasp the bridle, and had made himself familiar with the nature of the horse, it gave him the greatest delight to tame and subdue a fiery steed. he had left his priest's robes in egypt. here he wore a coat of mail, a sword, and battle-axe like a warrior, and his long beard, which had grown during his captivity, now flowed down over his breast. uarda's father often looked at him with admiration, and said: "one might think the mohar, with whom i often travelled these roads, had risen from the dead. he looked like you, he spoke like you, he called the men as you do, nay he sat as you do when the road was too bad for his chariot, [the mohars used chariots in their journeys. this is positively known from the papyrus anastasi i. which vividly describes the hardships experienced by a mohar while travelling through syria.] and he got on horseback, and held the reins." none of pentaur's men, except his red-bearded friend, was more to him than a mere hired servant, and he usually preferred to ride alone, apart from the little troop, musing on the past--seldom on the future--and generally observing all that lay on his way with a keen eye. they soon reached lebanon; between it and and lebanon a road led through the great syrian valley. it rejoiced him to see with his own eyes the distant shimmer of the white snow-capped peaks, of which he had often heard warriors talk. the country between the two mountain ranges was rich and fruitful, and from the heights waterfalls and torrents rushed into the valley. many villages and towns lay on his road, but most of them had been damaged in the war. the peasants had been robbed of their teams of cattle, the flocks had been driven off from the shepherds, and when a vine-dresser, who was training his vine saw the little troop approaching, he fled to the ravines and forests. the traces of the plough and the spade were everywhere visible, but the fields were for the most part not sown; the young peasants were under arms, the gardens and meadows were trodden down by soldiers, the houses and cottages plundered and destroyed, or burnt. everything bore the trace of the devastation of the war, only the oak and cedar forests lorded it proudly over the mountain-slopes, planes and locust-trees grew in groves, and the gorges and rifts of the thinly-wooded limestone hills, which bordered the fertile low-land, were filled with evergreen brushwood. at this time of year everything was moist and well-watered, and pentaur compared the country with egypt, and observed how the same results were attained here as there, but by different agencies. he remembered that morning on sinai, and said to himself again: "another god than ours rules here, and the old masters were not wrong who reviled godless strangers, and warned the uninitiated, to whom the secret of the one must remain unrevealed, to quit their home." the nearer he approached the king's camp, the more vividly he thought of bent-anat, and the faster his heart beat from time to time when he thought of his meeting with the king. on the whole he was full of cheerful confidence, which he felt to be folly, and which nevertheless he could not repress. ameni had often blamed him for his too great diffidence and his want of ambition, when he had willingly let others pass him by. he remembered this now, and smiled and understood himself less than ever, for though he resolutely repeated to himself a hundred times that he was a low-born, poor, and excommunicated priest, the feeling would not be smothered that he had a right to claim bent-anat for his own. and if the king refused him his daughter--if he made him pay for his audacity with his life? not an eyelash, he well knew, would tremble under the blow of the axe, and he would die content; for that which she had granted him was his, and no god could take it from him! etext editor's bookmarks: an admirer of the lovely color of his blue bruises called his daughter to wash his feet desert is a wonderful physician for a sick soul he is clever and knows everything, but how silly he looks now if it were right we should not want to hide ourselves none of us really know anything rightly one falsehood usually entails another refreshed by the whip of one of the horsemen this ebook was produced by david widger <widger@cecomet.net> [note: there is a short list of bookmarks, or pointers, at the end of the file for those who may wish to sample the author's ideas before making an entire meal of them. d.w.] cleopatra by georg ebers volume 1. translated from the german by mary j. safford preface. if the author should be told that the sentimental love of our day was unknown to the pagan world, he would not cite last the two lovers, antony and cleopatra, and the will of the powerful roman general, in which he expressed the desire, wherever he might die, to be buried beside the woman whom he loved to his latest hour. his wish was fulfilled, and the love-life of these two distinguished mortals, which belongs to history, has more than once afforded to art and poesy a welcome subject. in regard to cleopatra, especially, life was surrounded with an atmosphere of romance bordering on the fabulous. even her bitterest foes admire her beauty and rare gifts of intellect. her character, on the contrary, presents one of the most difficult problems of psychology. the servility of roman poets and authors, who were unwilling frankly to acknowledge the light emanating so brilliantly from the foe of the state and the imperator, solved it to her disadvantage. everything that bore the name of egyptian was hateful or suspicious to the roman, and it was hard to forgive this woman, born on the banks of the nile, for having seen julius caesar at her feet and compelled mark antony to do her bidding. other historians, plutarch at their head, explained the enigma more justly, and in many respects in her favour. it was a delightful task to the author to scan more closely the personality of the hapless queen, and from the wealth of existing information shape for himself a creature in whom he could believe. years elapsed ere he succeeded; but now that he views the completed picture, he thinks that many persons might be disposed to object to the brightness of his colours. yet it would not be difficult for the writer to justify every shade which he has used. if, during his creative work, he learned to love his heroine, it was because, the more distinctly he conjured before his mind the image of this wonderful woman, the more keenly he felt and the more distinctly he perceived how fully she merited not only sympathy and admiration, but, in spite of all her sins and weaknesses, the self-sacrificing affection which she inspired in so many hearts. it was an author of no less importance than horace who called cleopatra "non humilis mulier"--a woman capable of no baseness. but the phrase gains its greatest importance from the fact that it adorns the hymn which the poet dedicated to octavianus and his victory over antony and cleopatra. it was a bold act, in such an ode, to praise the victor's foe. yet he did it, and his words, which are equivalent to a deed, are among this greatly misjudged woman's fairest claims to renown. unfortunately it proved less potent than the opinion of dio, who often distorted what plutarch related, but probably followed most closely the farce or the popular tales which, in rome, did not venture to show the egyptian in a favourable light. the greek plutarch, who lived much nearer the period of our heroine than dio, estimated her more justly than most of the roman historians. his grandfather had heard many tales of both cleopatra and antony from his countryman philotas, who, during the brilliant days when they revelled in alexandria, had lived there as a student. of all the writers who describe the queen, plutarch is the most trustworthy, but even his narrative must be used with caution. we have closely followed the clear and comprehensive description given by plutarch of the last days of our heroine. it bears the impress of truth, and to deviate widely from it would be arbitrary. unluckily, egyptian records contain nothing which could have much weight in estimating the character of cleopatra, though we have likenesses representing the queen alone, or with her son caesarion. very recently (in 1892) the fragment of a colossal double statue was found in alexandria, which can scarcely be intended for any persons except cleopatra and antony hand in hand. the upper part of the female figure is in a state of tolerable preservation, and shows a young and attractive face. the male figure was doubtless sacrificed to octavianus's command to destroy antony's statues. we are indebted to herr dr. walther, in alexandria, for an excellent photograph of this remarkable piece of sculpture. comparatively few other works of plastic art, in which we here include coins, that could render us familiar with our heroine's appearance, have been preserved. though the author must especially desire to render his creation a work of art, it is also requisite to strive for fidelity. as the heroine's portrait must reveal her true character, so the life represented here must correspond in every line with the civilization of the period described. for this purpose we placed cleopatra in the centre of a larger group of people, whom she influences, and who enable her personality to be displayed in the various relations of life. should the author succeed in making the picture of the remarkable woman, who was so differently judged, as "lifelike" and vivid as it stamped itself upon his own imagination, he might remember with pleasure the hours which he devoted to this book. georg ebers tutzing on the starnberger see, october 5, 1893. cleopatra. gorgias, the architect, had learned to bear the scorching sunbeams of the egyptian noonday. though not yet thirty, he had directed--first as his late father's assistant and afterwards as his successor--the construction of the huge buildings erected by cleopatra in alexandria. now he was overwhelmed with commissions; yet he had come hither ere the hours of work were over, merely to oblige a youth who had barely passed the confines of boyhood. true, the person for whom he made this sacrifice was caesarion, the son whom cleopatra had given to julius caesar. antony had honoured him with the proud title of "king of kings"; yet he was permitted neither to rule nor even to issue orders, for his mother kept him aloof from affairs of state, and he himself had no desire to hold the sceptre. gorgias had granted his wish the more readily, because it was apparent that he wanted to speak to him in private, though he had not the least idea what caesarion desired to confide, and, under any circumstances, he could give him only a brief interview. the fleet, at whose head the queen had set sail, with mark antony, for greece, must have already met octavianus's galleys, and doubtless a battle wherein the destiny of the world was decided had also been fought upon the land, gorgias believed that the victory would fall to antony and the queen, and wished the noble pair success with his whole heart. he was even obliged to act as if the battle had been already determined in their favour, for the architectural preparations for the reception of the conquerors were entrusted to his charge, and that very day must witness the decision of the location of the colossal statues which represented antony hand in hand with his royal love. the epitrop mardion, a eunuch, who as regent, represented cleopatra; and zeno, the keeper of the seal, who rarely opposed him, wished to have the piece of sculpture erected in a different place from the one he favoured. the principal objection to the choice made by the powerful head of the government was that it had fallen on land owned by a private individual. this might lead to difficulties, and gorgias opposed it. as an artist, too, he did not approve mardion's plan; for though, on didymus's land, the statues would have faced the sea, which the regent and the keeper of the seal regarded as very important, no fitting background could have been obtained. at any rate, the architect could now avail himself of caesarion's invitation to overlook from the appointed place of meeting--the lofty steps of the temple of isis--the bruchium, and seek the best site for the twin statues. he was anxious to select the most suitable one; the master who had created this work of art had been his friend, and had closed his eyes in death shortly after its completion. the sanctuary whence gorgias commenced his survey was in one of the fairest portions of the bruchium, the alexandrian quarter, where stood the royal palace with its extensive annexes, the finest temples--except the serapeum, situated in another part of the city-and the largest theatres; the forum invited the council of macedonian citizens to its assemblies, and the museum afforded a resort for the scholars. the little square closed in the east by the temple of isis was called the "corner of the muses," on account of the two marble statues of women before the entrance of the house, which, with its large garden facing the square northward and extending along the sea, belonged to didymus, an old and highly respected scholar and member of the museum. the day had been hot, and the shade of the temple of isis was very welcome to the architect. this sanctuary rested upon a lofty foundation, and a long flight of steps led to the cella. the spot afforded gorgias a wide prospect. most of the buildings within his vision belonged to the time of alexander and his successors in the house of the ptolemies, but some, and by no means the least stately, were the work of gorgias himself or of his father. the artist's heart swelled with enthusiastic delight at the sight of this portion of his native city. he had been in rome, and visited many other places numbered among the world's fairest and most populous cities; but not one contained so many superb works of art crowded together in so small a space. "if one of the immortals themselves," he murmured, "should strive to erect for the inhabitants of olympus a quarter meet for their grandeur and beauty, it could scarcely be much more superb or better fitted to satisfy the artistic needs which we possess as their gift, and it would surely be placed on the shore of such a sea." while speaking, he shaded his keen eyes with his hand. the architect, who usually devoted his whole attention to the single object that claimed his notice, now permitted himself the pleasure of enjoying the entire picture in whose finishing touches he had himself borne a part; and, as his practised eye perceived in every temple and colonnade the studied and finished harmony of form, and the admirable grouping of the various buildings and statues, he said to himself, with a sigh of satisfaction, that his own art was the noblest and building the highest of royal pleasures. no doubt this belief was shared by the princes who, three centuries before, had endeavoured to obtain an environment for their palaces which should correspond with their vast power and overflowing wealth, and at the same time give tangible expression to their reverence for the gods and their delight in art and beauty. no royal race in the universe could boast of a more magnificent abode. these thoughts passed through gorgias's mind as the deep azure hue of sea and sky blended with the sunlight to bring into the strongest relief all that the skill and brains of man, aided by exhaustless resources, had here created. waiting, usually a hard task for the busy architect, became a pleasure in this spot; for the rays streaming lavishly in all directions from the diadem of the sovereign sun flooded with dazzling radiance the thousands of white marble statues on the temples and colonnades, and were reflected from the surfaces of the polished granite of the obelisks and the equally smooth walls of the white, yellow, and green marble, the syenite, and the brown, speckled porphyry of sanctuaries and palaces. they seemed to be striving to melt the bright mosaic pictures which covered every foot of the ground, where no highway intersected and no tree shaded it, and flashed back again from the glimmering metal or the smooth glaze in the gay tiles on the roofs of the temples and houses. here they glittered on the metal ornaments, yonder they seemed to be trying to rival the brilliancy of the gilded domes, to lend to the superb green of the tarnished bronze surfaces the sparkling lustre of the emerald, or to transform the blue and red lines of the white marble temples into lapislazuli and coral and their gilded decorations into topaz. the pictures in the mosaic pavement of the squares, and on the inner walls of the colonnades, were doubly effective against the light masses of marble surrounding them, which in their turn were indebted to the pictures for affording the eye an attractive variety instead of dazzling monotony. here the light of the weltering sun enhanced the brilliancy of colour in the flags and streamers which fluttered beside the obelisks and egyptian pylons, over the triumphal arches and the gates of the temples and palaces. yet even the exquisite purplish blue of the banner waving above the palace on the peninsula of lochias, now occupied by cleopatra's children, was surpassed by the hue of the sea, whose deep azure near the shore merged far away into bands of lighter and darker blue, blending with dull or whitish green. gorgias was accustomed to grasp fully whatever he permitted to influence him, and though still loyal to his custom of associating with his art every remarkable work of the gods or man, he had not forgotten in his enjoyment of the familiar scene the purpose of his presence in this spot. no, the garden of didymus was not the proper place for his friend's last work. while gazing at the lofty plane, sycamore, and mimosa trees which surrounded the old scholar's home, the quiet square below him suddenly became astir with noisy life, for all classes of the populace were gathering in front of the sequestered house, as if some unusual spectacle attracted them. what could they want of the secluded philosopher? gorgias gazed earnestly at them, but soon turned away again; a gay voice from below called his name. a singular procession had approached the temple--a small body of armed men, led by a short, stout fellow, whose big head, covered with bushy curls, was crowned with a laurel wreath. he was talking eagerly to a younger man, but had paused with the others in front of the sanctuary to greet the architect. the latter shouted a few pleasant words in reply. the laurel-crowned figure made a movement as if he intended to join him, but his companion checked him, and, after a short parley, the older man gave the younger one his hand, flung his heavy head back, and strutted onward like a peacock, followed by his whole train. the other looked after him, shrugging his shoulders; then called to gorgias, asking what boon he desired from the goddess. "your presence," replied the architect blithely. "then isis will show herself gracious to you," was the answer, and the next instant the two young men cordially grasped each other's hands. both were equally tall and well formed; the features bore witness to their greek origin; nay, they might have been taken for brothers, had not the architect's whole appearance seemed sturdie and plainer than that of his companion, whom he called "dion" and friend. as the latter heaped merry sarcasms upon the figure wearing the laurel wreath who had just left him, anaxenor, the famous zither-player, on whom antony had bestowed the revenues of four cities and permission to keep body-guard, and gorgias's deeper voice sometime assented, sometimes opposed with sensible objections, the difference between these two men of the same age and race became clearly apparent. both showed a degree of self-reliance unusual, at their age; but the architect's was the assurance which a man gains by toil and his own merit, dion's that which is bestowed by large possession and a high position in society. those who were ignorant that the weight of dion's carefully prepared speech had more than once turned the scale in the city councils would probably have been disposed to take him for one of the careless worldlings who had no lack of representatives among the gilded youth of alexandria; while the architect's whole exterior, from his keen eye to the stouter leather of his sandals, revealed earnest purpose and unassuming ability. their friendship had commenced when gorgias built a new palace for dion. during long business association people become well acquainted, even though their conversations relate solely to direction and execution. but in this case, he who gave the orders had been only the inspirer and adviser, the architect the warm-hearted friend, eager to do his utmost to realize what hovered before the other's mind as the highest attainable excellence. so the two young men became first dear, and finally almost indispensable to each other. as the architect discovered in the wealthy man of the world many qualities whose existence he had not suspected, the latter was agreeably surprised to find in the artist, associated with his solidity of character, a jovial companion, who--this first made him really beloved by his friend--had no lack of weaknesses. when the palace was completed to dion's satisfaction and became one of the most lauded ornaments of the city, the young men's friendship assumed a new form, and it would have been difficult to say which received the most benefit. dion had just been stopped by the zither-player to ask for confirmation of the tidings that the united forces of antony and cleopatra had gained a great victory on sea and land. in the eating-house at kanopus, where he had breakfasted, everyone was full of the joyful news, and rivers of wine had been drunk to the health of the victors and the destruction of the malicious foe. "in these days," cried dion, "not only weak-brained fellows, like the zitherplayer, believe me omniscient, but many sensible men also. and why? because, forsooth, i am the nephew of zeno, the keeper of the seal, who is on the brink of despair because he himself knows nothing, not even the veriest trifle." "yet he stands nearest to the regent," observed gorgias, "and must learn, if any one does, how the fleet fares." "you too!" sighed his friend. "had i been standing so far above the ground as you, the architect--by the dog, i should not have failed to note the quarter whence the wind blew! it has been southerly a whole fortnight, and keeps back the galleys coming from the north. the regent knows nothing, absolutely nothing, and my uncle, of course, no more. but if they do learn anything they will be shrewd enough not to enrich me with it." "true, there are other rumours afloat," said the architect thoughtfully. "if i were in mardion's place--" "thank the olympians that you are not," laughed his companion. "he has as many cares as a fish has scales. and one, the greatest. that pert young antyllus was over-ready with his tongue yesterday at barine's. poor fellow! he'll have to answer for it to his tutor at home." "you mean the remark about the queen's accompanying the fleet?" "st!" said dion, putting his finger on his lips, for many men and women were now ascending the temple steps. several carried flowers and cakes, and the features of most expressed joyful emotion. the news of the victory had reached their ears, and they wanted to offer sacrifices to the goddess whom cleopatra, "the new isis," preferred to all others. the first court-yard of the sanctuary was astir with life. they could hear the ringing of the sistrum bells and the murmuring chant of the priests. the quiet fore-court of the little temple of the goddess, which here, in the greek quarter of palaces, had as few visitors as the great temple of isis in the rhakotis was overcrowded, had now become the worst possible rendezvous for men who stood so near the rulers of the government. the remark made about the queen the evening before by antyllus, antony's nineteen-year-old son, at the house of barine, a beautiful young woman who attracted all the prominent men in alexandria, was the more imprudent because it coincided with the opinion of all the wisest heads. the reckless youth enthusiastically reverenced his father, but cleopatra, the object of antony's love, and--in the egyptians' eyes-his wife, was not antyllus's mother. he was the son of fulvia, his father's first wife, and feeling himself a roman, would have preferred a thousand times to live on the banks of the tiber. besides, it was certain--antony's stanchest friends made no attempt to conceal the fact-that the queen's presence with the army exerted a disturbing influence, and could not fail to curb the daring courage of the brave general. antyllus, with the reckless frankness inherited from his father, had expressed this view in the presence of all barine's guests, and in a form which would be only too quickly spread throughout alexandria, whose inhabitants relished such speeches. these remarks would be slow in reaching the plain people who were attracted to the temple by the news of the victory, yet many doubtless knew caesarion, whom the architect was awaiting here. it would be wiser to meet the prince at the foot of the steps. both men, therefore, went down to the square, though the crowds seeking the temple and thronging the space before didymus's house made it more and more difficult to pace to and fro. they were anxious to learn whether the rumour that didymus's garden was to be taken for the twin statues had already spread abroad, and their first questions revealed that this was the case. it was even stated that the old sage's house was to be torn down, and within a few hours. this was vehemently contradicted; but a tall, scrawny man seemed to have undertaken to defend the ruler's violence. the friends knew him well. it was the syrian philostratus, a clever extempore speaker and agitator of the people, who placed his clever tongue at the disposal of the highest bidder. "the rascal is probably now in my uncle's employ," said dion. "the idea of putting the piece of sculpture there originated with him, and it is difficult to turn him from such plans. there is some secret object to be gained here. that is why they have brought philostratus. i wonder if the conspiracy is connected in any way with barine, whose husband-unfortunately for her--he was before he cast her off." "cast her off!" exclaimed gorgias wrathfully. "how that sounds! true, he did it, but to persuade him the poor woman sacrificed half the fortune her father had earned by his brush. you know as well as i that life with that scoundrel would be unbearable." "very true," replied dion quietly. "but as all alexandria melted into admiration after her singing of the 'yalemos' at the adonis festival, she no longer needed her contemptible consort." "how can you take pleasure, whenever it is possible, in casting such slurs upon a woman, whom but yesterday you called blameless, charming, peerless?" "that the light she sheds may not dazzle your eyes. i know how sensitive they are." "then spare, instead of irritating them. besides, your suggestion gives food for thought barine is the granddaughter of the man whose garden they want, and the advocate would probably be glad to injure both. but i'll spoil his game. it is my business to choose the site for the statues." "yours?" replied dion. "unless some on who is more powerful opposes you. i would try to win my uncle, but there are others superior to him. the queen has gone, it is true; but iras, whose commands do not die away in empty air, told me this morning that she had her own ideas about the errection of the statue." "then you bring philostratus here!" cried the architect. "i?" asked the other in amazement. "ay, you," asserted gorgias. "did not you say that iras, with whom you played when a boy is now becoming troublesome by watching your every step? and then--you visit barine constantly and she so evidently prefers you, that the fact might easily reach the ears of iras." "as argus has a hundred, jealousy has a thousand eyes," interrupted dion, "yet i seek nothing from barine, save two pleasant hours when the day is drawing towards its close. no matter; iras, i suppose, heard that i was favoured by this much-admired woman. iras herself has some little regard for me, so she bought philostratus. she is willing to pay something for the sake of injuring the woman who stands between us, or the old man who has the good or evil fortune of being her rival's grandfather. no, no; that would be too base! and believe me, if iras desired to ruin barine, she need not make so long a circuit. besides, she is not really a wicked woman. or is she? all i know is that where any advantage is to be gained for the queen, she does not shrink even from doubtful means, and also that the hours speed swiftly for any one in her society. yes, iras, iras--i like to utter the name. yet i do not love her, and she--loves only herself, and--a thing few can say--another still more. what is the world, what am i to her, compared with the queen, the idol of her heart? since cleopatra's departure, iras seems like the forsaken ariadne, or a young roe which has strayed from its mother. but stop; she may have a hand in the game: the queen trusted her as if she were her sister, her daughter. no one knows what she and charmian are to her. they are called waiting-women, but are their sovereign's dearest friends. when, on the departure of the fleet, cleopatra was compelled to leave iras here--she was ill with a fever--she gave her the charge of her children, even those whose beards were beginning to grow, the 'king of kings' caesarion, whose tutor punishes him for every act of disobedience; and the unruly lad antyllus, who has forced his way the last few evenings into our friend's house." "antony, his own father, introduced him to her." "very true, and antyllus took caesarion there. this vexed iras, like everything which may disturb the queen. barine is troublesome on account of cleopatra, whom she wishes to spare every, annoyance, and perhaps she dislikes her a little for my sake. now she wants to inflict on the old man, barine's grandfather, whom she loves, some injury which the spoiled, imprudent woman will scarcely accept quietly, and which will rouse her to commit some folly that can be used against her. iras will hardly seek her life, but she may have in mind exile or something of that kind. she knows people as well as i know her, my neighbour and playmate, whom many a time i was obliged to lift down from some tree into which the child had climbed as nimbly as a kitten." "i myself suggested this conjecture, yet i cannot credit her with such unworthy intrigues," cried gorgias. "credit her?" repeated dion, shrugging his shoulders. "i only transport myself in imagination to the court and to the soul of the woman who helps make rain and sunshine there. you have columns rounded and beams hewed that they may afterwards support the roof to which in due time you wish to direct attention. she and all who have a voice in the management of court affairs look first at the roof and then seek anything to raise and support it, though it should be corpses, ruined lives, and broken hearts. the point is that the roof shall stand until the architect, the queen, sees and approves it. as to the rest--but there is the carriage--it doubtless brings--you were--" he paused, laid his hand on his friend's arm, and whispered hastily: "iras is undoubtedly at the bottom of this, and it is not antyllus, but yonder dreaming lad, for whom she is moving. when she spoke of the statues just now, she asked in the same breath where i had seen him on the evening of the day before yesterday, and that was the very time he called on barine. the plot was made by her, and iras is doing all the work. the mouse is not caught while the trap is closed, and she is just raising her little hand to open it." "if only she does not use some man's hand," replied the architect wrathfully, and then turned towards the carriage and the elderly man who had just left it, and was now approaching the two friends. chapter ii. when caesarion's companion reached dion and gorgias, the former modestly made a movement to retire. but archibius was acquainted with both, and begged him to remain. there was an air of precision and clearness in the voice and quiet movements of this big, broad-shouldered man, with his robust frame and well-developed limbs. though only a few years beyond forty, not merely his grey hair but the calm, impressive dignity of his whole manner indicated a more advanced age. "the young king yonder," he began in a deep, musical voice, motioning towards the equipage, "wished to speak to you here in person, gorgias, but by my advice he refrained from mingling with the crowd. i have brought him hither in a closed carriage. if the plan suits you, enter it and talk with him while i keep watch here. strange things seem to be occurring, and yonder--or am i mistaken? has the monster dragged along there any connection with the twin statues of the queen and her friend? was it you who selected that place for them?" "no," replied the architect. "the order was issued over my head and against my will." "i thought so," replied the other. "this is the very matter of which caesarion wishes to speak. if you can prevent the erection of the statues on didymus's land, so much the better. i will do everything in my power to aid you, but in the queen's absence that is little." "then what can be said of my influence?" asked the architect. "who, in these days, knows whether the sky will be blue or grey to-morrow? i can guarantee one thing only: i will do my best to prevent this injury of an estimable citizen, interference with the laws of our city, and violation of good taste." "say so to the young king, but express yourself cautiously," replied archibius as the architect turned towards the carriage. as soon as dion and the older man were alone, the latter inquired the cause of the increasing uproar, and as, like every well-disposed alexandrian, he esteemed archibius, and knew that he was intimately acquainted with the owner of the imperilled garden, and therefore with his granddaughter barine, he confided his anxiety to him without reserve. "iras is your niece, it is true," he said in his open-hearted manner, "but i know that you understand her character. it suits her now to fling a golden apple into the path of a person whom she dislikes and believes incautious, that she may pick it up and thus afford her an opportunity to bring a charge of theft." noting the inquiring glance archibius fixed upon him as he made this comparison, he changed his tone and continued more earnestly: "zeus is great, but destiny is superior even to him. zeus can accomplish much, but when iras and your sister charmian, who unfortunately is now with the queen, wish to effect anything, he, like the regent mardion, must give way. the more lovable cleopatra is, the more surely every one prizes a position near her person above aught else, especially such trifles as law and justice." "these are harsh words," responded archibius, and seem the more bitter in proportion to the germ of truth which they contain. our court shares the fate of every other in the east, and those to whom rome formerly set the example of holding law and justice sacred--" "can now go there," interrupted dion, "to learn how rudely both are trampled under foot. the sovereigns here and there may smile at one another like the augurs. they are like brothers--" "but with the difference," archibius broke in, "that the head of our public affairs is the very embodiment of affability and grace; while in rome, on the contrary, harsh severity and bloody arrogance, or even repulsive servility, guide the reins." here archibius interrupted himself to point to the shouting throng advancing towards them. "you are right," dion answered. "let us defer this discussion till we can pursue it in the house of the charming barine. but i rarely meet you there, though by blood you are so nearly allied to her father. i am her friend--at my age that might easily mean her lover. but in our case the comparison would not suit. yet perhaps you will believe me, for you have the right to call yourself the friend of the most bewitching of women." a sorrowful smile flitted over the grave, set features of the older man, who, raising his hand as if in protest, answered carelessly: "i grew up with cleopatra, but a private citizen loves a queen only as a divinity. i believe in your friendship for barine, though i deem it dangerous." "if you mean that it might injure the lovely woman," replied dion, raising his head more proudly as if to intimate that he required no warning, even from him, "perhaps you are right. only i beg you not to misunderstand me. i am not vain enough to suppose that i could win her heart, but unfortunately there are many who cannot forgive the power of attraction which she exerts over me as well as upon all. so many men gladly visit barine's house that there are an equal number of women who would rejoice to close it. among them, of course, is iras. she dislikes my friend; nay, i fear that what you witness yonder is the apple she flung in order, if not to ruin, at least to drive her from the city, ere the queen--may the gods grant her victory!--ere cleopatra returns. you know your niece iras. like your sister charmian, she will shrink from nothing to remove an annoyance from her mistress's pathway, and it will hardly please cleopatra when she learns that the two youths whose welfare lies nearest her heart--antyllus and caesarion--seek barine's house, no matter how stainless the latter's reputation may be." "i have just heard of it," replied archibius, "and i, too, am anxious. antony's son has inherited much of his father's insatiable love of pleasure. but caesarion! he has not yet ventured out of the dreamland which surrounds him into actual life. what others scarcely perceive deals him a serious blow. i fear eros is sharpening arrows for him which will pierce deep into his heart. while talking with me he seemed strangely changed. his dreamy eyes glittered like a drunkard's when he spoke of barine. i fear, i fear--" "impossible!" cried dion, in surprise, nay, almost terror. "if that is the case, iras is not wholly wrong, and we must deal with the matter differently. but it is of the first importance to conceal the fact that caesarion has any interest in the affairs of the old house-owner. to seek to maintain the old man's right to his own property is a matter of course, and i will undertake to do this and try to get yonder orator home just see how the braggart is swinging his arms in iras's service! as for barine, it will be well to induce her to leave of her own free will a city where it will be made unpleasant for her. try to persuade her to pursue this course. if i went to her with such a suggestion, i, who yesterday--no, no! besides, she might hear that iras and i--she would imagine all sorts of absurdities. you know what jealousy means. to you, whom she esteems, she would surely listen, and she need not go far from the city. if the heart of this enthusiastic boy--who might some day desire to be 'king of kings' not only in name--should really be fired with love for barine, what serious misfortune might follow! we must secure her from him. she could not go to my country house among the papyrus plantations at sebennys. it would afford too much license for evil tongues. but you--your villa at kanopus is too near--but, if i am not mistaken, you have--" "my estate in the lake region is remote enough, and will be at her disposal," interrupted the other. "the house is always kept ready for my reception. i will do my best to persuade her, for your advice is prudent. she must be withdrawn from the boy's eyes." "i shall learn the result of your mission tomorrow," cried dion eagerly-"nay, this evening. if she consents, i will tell iras, as if by accident, that barine has gone to upper egypt to drink new milk, or something of that kind. iras is a shrewd woman, and will be glad if she can keep aloof from such trifles during the time which will decide the fate of cleopatra and of the world." "my thoughts, too, are always with the army," said archibius. "how trivial everything else seems compared with the result which will be determined in the next few days! but life is made up of trifles. they are food, drink, maintenance. should the queen return triumphant, and find caesarion in wrong paths--" "we must close them against him," exclaimed dion. "that the boy may not follow barine?" asked archibius, shaking his head. "i think we need feel no anxiety on that score. he will doubtless eagerly desire to do so, but with him there is a wide gulf between the wish and its fulfilment. antyllus is differently constituted. he would be quite capable of ordering a horse to be saddled, or the sails of a boat to be spread in order to pursue her--beyond the cataract if necessary. so we must maintain the utmost secrecy concerning the place to which barine voluntarily exiles herself." "but she is not yet on her way," replied dion with a faint sigh. "she is bound to this city by many ties." "i know it," answered archibius, confirming his companion's fear. the latter, pointing to the equipage, said in a rapid, earnest tone: "gorgias is beckoning. but, before we part, let me beseech you to do everything to persuade barine to leave here. she is in serious danger. conceal nothing from her, and say that her friends will not leave her too long in solitude." archibius, with a significant glance, shook his finger at the young man in playful menace, and then went up to the carriage. caesarion's clear-cut but pallid face, whose every feature resembled that of his father, the great caesar, bent towards them from the opening above the door, as he greeted both with a formal bend of the head and a patronizing glance. his eyes had sparkled with boyish glee when he first caught sight of the friend from whom he had been separated several weeks, but to the stranger he wished to assume the bearing which beseemed a king. he desired to make him feel his superior position, for he was illdisposed towards him. he had seen him favoured by the woman whom he imagined he loved, and whose possession he had been promised by the secret science of the egyptians, whose power to unveil the mysteries of the future he firmly believed. antyllus, antony's son, had taken him to barine, and she had received him with the consideration due his rank. spite of her bright graciousness, boyish timidity had hitherto prevented any word of love to the young beauty whom he saw surrounded by so many distinguished men of mature years. yet his beaming, expressive eyes must have revealed his feelings to her. doubtless his glances had not been unobserved, for only a few hours before an egyptian woman had stopped him at the temple of his father, caesar, to which, according to the fixed rules governing the routine of his life, he went daily at a certain hour to pray, to offer sacrifices, to anoint the stone of the altar, or to crown the statue of the departed emperor. caesarion had instantly recognized her as the female slave whom he had seen in barine's atrium, and ordered his train to fall back. fortunately his tutor, rhodon, had not fulfilled his duty of accompanying him. so the youth had ventured to follow the slave woman, and in the shadow of the mimosas, in the little grove beside the temple, he found barine's litter. his heart throbbed violently as, full of anxious expectation, he obeyed her signal to draw nearer. still, she had granted him nothing save the favour of gratifying one of her wishes. but his heart had swelled almost to bursting when, resting her beautiful white arm on the door of her litter, she had told him that unjust men were striving to rob her grandfather didymus of his garden, and she expected him, who bore the title of the "king of kings" to do his best to prevent such a crime. it had been difficult for him to grasp her meaning while she was speaking. there was a roaring sound in his ears as if, instead of being in the silent temple grove, he was standing on a stormy day upon the surf-beaten promontory of lochias. he had not ventured to raise his eyes and look into her face. not until she closed with the question whether she might hope for his assistance did her gaze constrain him to glance up. ah, what had he not fancied he read in her imploring blue eyes! how unspeakably beautiful she had appeared! he had stood before her as if bereft of his senses. his sole knowledge was that he had promised, with his hand on his heart, to do everything in his power to prevent what threatened to cause her pain. then her little hand, with its sparkling rings, was again stretched towards him, and he had resolved to kiss it; but while he glanced around at his train, she had already waved him a farewell, and the litter was borne away. he stood motionless, like the figure of a man on one of his mother's ancient vases, staring in bewilderment after the flying figure of happiness, whom he might easily have caught by her floating locks. how he raged over the miserable indecision which had defrauded him of so much joy! yet nothing was really lost. if he succeeded in fulfilling her wishes, she could not fail to be grateful; and then-he pondered over the person to whom he should apply--mardion, the regent, or the keeper of the seal? no, they had planned the erection of the group of sculpture in the philosopher's garden. to iras, his mother's confidante? nay, last of all to her. the cunning woman would have perceived his purpose and betrayed it to the regent. ah, if charmian, his mother's other attendant, had been present! but she was with the fleet, which perhaps was even now engaged in battle with the enemy. at this recollection his eyes again sought the ground--he had not been permitted to take the place in the army to which his birth entitled him, while his mother and charmian--but he did not pursue this painful current of thought; for a serious reproach had forced itself upon him and sent the blood to his cheeks. he wished to be considered a man, and yet, in these fateful days, which would determine the destiny of his mother, his native city, egypt, and that rome which he, the only son of caesar, was taught to consider his heritage, he was visiting a beautiful woman, thinking of her, and of her alone. his days and half the nights were passed in forming plans for securing her love, forgetful of what should have occupied his whole heart. only yesterday iras had sharply admonished him that, in times like these, it was the duty of every friend of cleopatra, and every foe of her foes, to be with the army at least in mind. he had remembered this, but, instead of heeding the warning, the thought of her had merely recalled her uncle, archibius, who possessed great influence, not merely on account of his wealth but because every one also knew his high standing in the regard of the queen. besides, the clever, kindly man had always been friendly to him from childhood, and like a revelation came the idea of applying to him, and to the architect gorgias, who had a voice in the matter, and by whom he had been strongly attracted during the period while he was rebuilding the wing assigned to the prince in the palace at lochias. so one of the attendants was instantly despatched with the little tablet which invited gorgias to the interview at the temple of isis. then, in the afternoon, caesarion went secretly in a boat to the little palace of archibius, situated on the seashore at kanopus, and now as the latter, with his friend, stood beside the carriage door, he explained to them that he was going with the architect to old didymus to assure him of his assistance. this was unadvisable in every respect, but it required all the weight of the older man's reasons to induce the prince to yield. the consequences which might ensue, should the populace discover that he was taking sides against the regent, would be incalculable. but submission and withdrawal were especially difficult to the young "king of kings." he longed to pose as a man in dion's presence, and as this could not be, he strove to maintain the semblance of independence by yielding his resolve only on the plea of not desiring to injure the aged scholar and his granddaughter. finally, he again entreated the architect to secure didymus in the possession of his property. when at last he drove away with archibius, twilight was already gathering, torches were lighted in front of the temple and the little mausoleum adjoining the cella, and pitch-pans were blazing in the square. chapter iii. "the lad is in an evil plight," said gorgias, shaking his head thoughtfully as the equipage rolled over the stone pavement of the street of the king. "and over yonder, added dion," "the prospect is equally unpleasing. philostratus is setting the people crazy. but the hired mischief-maker will soon wish he had been less ready to seize iras's gold coins." "and to think," cried the architect, "that barine was this scoundrel's wife! how could it--" "she was but a child when they married her," interrupted dion. "who consults a girl of fifteen in the choice of a husband? and philostratus --he was my classmate at rhodus--at that time had the fairest prospects. his brother alexas, antony's favourite, could easily advance him. barine's father was dead, her mother was accustomed to follow didymus's counsel, and the clever fellow had managed to strew dust in the old man's eyes. long and lank as he is, he is not bad-looking even now. "when he appeared as an orator he pleased his hearers. this turned his head, and a spendthrift's blood runs in his veins. to bring his fair young bride to a stately mansion, he undertook the bad cause of the thievish tax-collector pyrrhus, and cleared him." "he bought a dozen false witnesses." "there were sixteen. afterwards they became as numerous as the open mouths you see shouting yonder. it is time to silence them. go to the old man's house and soothe him--barine also, if she is there. if you find messengers from the regent, raise objections to the unprecedented decree. you know the portions of the law which can be turned to didymus's advantage." "since the reign of euergetes ii, registered landed property has been unassailable, and his was recorded." "so much the better. tell the officials also, confidentially, that you know of objections just discovered which may perhaps change the regent's views." "and, above all, i shall insist upon my right to choose the place for the twin statues. the queen herself directed the others to heed my opinion." "that will cast the heaviest weight into the scale. we shall meet later. you will prefer to keep away from barine to-night. if you see her, tell her that archibius said he would visit her later--for an object i will explain afterwards. i shall probably go to iras to bring her to reason. it will be better not to mention caesarion's wish." "certainly--and you will give nothing to yonder brawler." "on the contrary. i feel very generous. if peitho will aid me, the insatiate fellow will get more than may be agreeable to him." then grasping the architect's hand, dion forced his way through the throng surrounding the high platform on wheels, upon which the closely covered piece of sculpture had been rolled up. the gate of the scholar's house stood open, for an officer in the regent's service had really entered a short time before, but the scythian guards sent by the exegetus demetrius, one of barine's friends, were keeping back the throng of curious spectators. their commander knew gorgias, and he was soon standing in the impluvium of the scholar's house, an oblong, rootless space, with a fountain in the centre, whose spray moistened the circular bed of flowers around it. the old slave had just lighted some three-branched lamps which burned on tall stands. the officers sent by the regent to inform didymus that his garden would be converted into a public square had just arrived. when gorgias entered, these magistrates, their clerks, and the witnesses accompanying them--a group of twenty men, at whose head was apollonius, a distinguished officer of the royal treasury--were in the house. the slave who admitted the architect informed him of it. in the atrium a young girl, doubtless a member of the household, stopped him. he was not mistaken in supposing that she was helena, didymus's younger granddaughter, of whom barine had spoken. true, she resembled her sister neither in face nor figure, for while the young matron's hair was fair and waving, the young girl's thick black tresses were wound around her head in a smooth braid. very unlike barine's voice, too, were the deep, earnest tones trembling with emotion, in which she confronted him with the brief question, concealing a faint reproach, "another demand?" after first ascertaining that he was really speaking to helena, his friend's sister, he hastily told her his name, adding that, on the contrary, he had come to protect her grandfather from a serious misfortune. when his glance first rested upon her in the dimly lighted room, the impression she made upon him was by no means favourable. the pure brow, which seemed to him too high for a woman's face, wore an indignant frown; and though her mouth was beautiful in form, its outlines were often marred by a passionate tremor that lent the exquisitely chiselled features a harsh, nay, bitter expression. but she had scarcely heard the motive of his presence ere, pressing her hand upon her bosom with a sigh of relief, she eagerly exclaimed: "oh, do what you can to avert this terrible deed! no one knows how the old man loves this house. and my grandmother! they will die if it is taken from them." her large eyes rested upon him with a warm, imploring light; and the stern, almost repellent voice thrilled with love for her relatives. he must lend his aid here, and how gladly he would do so! he assured her of this; and helena, who had heard him mentioned as a man of ability, saw in him a helper in need, and begged him, with touching fervour, to show her grandfather, when he came before the officers, that all was not lost. the astonished architect asked if didymus did not know what was impending, and helena hastily replied: "he is working in the summer-house by the sea. apollonius is a kindhearted man, and will wait until i have prepared my grandfather. i must go to him. he has already sent philotas--his pupil, who finds and unrolls his books--a dozen times to inquire the cause of the tumult outside; but i replied that the crowds were flocking to the harbour on account of the queen. there is often a mob shouting madly; but nothing disturbs my grandfather when he is absorbed in his work; and his pupil --a young student from amphissa--loves him and does what i bid him. my grandmother, too, knows nothing yet. she is deaf, and the female slaves dare not tell her. after her recent attack of giddiness, the doctor said that any sudden shock might injure her. if only i can find the right words, that my grandfather may not be too sorely hurt!" "shall i accompany you?" asked gorgias kindly. "no," she answered hurriedly. "he needs time ere he will trust strangers. only, if apollonius discloses the terrible truth, and his grief threatens to overpower him, comfort him, and show him that we still have friends who are ready to protect us from such disaster." she waved her hand in token of gratitude, and hurried through the little side gate into the garden. gorgias looked after her with sparkling eyes, and drew a long breath. how good this girl must be, how wisely she cared for her relatives! how energetically the young creature behaved! he had seen his new acquaintance only in the dim light, but she must be beautiful. her eyes, lips, and hair certainly were. how his heart throbbed as he asked himself the question whether this young girl, who was endowed with every gift which constituted the true worth of womanhood, was not preferable to her more attractive sister barine!-when the thought darted through his mind that he had cause to be grateful to the beard which covered his chin and cheeks, for he felt that he, a sedate, mature man, must have blushed. and he knew why. only half an hour before he had felt and admitted to dion that he considered barine the most desirable of women, and now another's image cast a deep shadow over hers and filled his heart with new, perhaps stronger emotions. he had had similar experiences only too often, and his friends, dion at their head, had perceived his weakness and spoiled many an hour for him by their biting jests. the series of tall and short, fair and dark beauties who had fired his fancy was indeed of considerable length, and every one on whom he had bestowed his quickly kindled affections had seemed to him the one woman he must make his own, if he would be a happy man. but ere he had reached the point of offering his hand, the question had arisen in his mind whether he might not love another still more ardently. so he had begun to persuade himself that his heart yearned for no individual, but the whole sex--at least the portion which was young and could feel love--and therefore he would scarcely be wise to bind himself to any one. true, he knew that he was capable of fidelity, for he clung to his friends with changeless loyalty, and was ready to make any sacrifice in their behalf. with women, however, he dealt differently. was helena's image, which now floated before him so bewitchingly, destined to fade as swiftly? the contrary would have been remarkable. yet he firmly believed that this time eros meant honestly by him. the laughing loves who twined their rose garlands around him and helena's predecessors had nothing to do with this grave maiden. these reflections darted through his brain with the speed of lightning, and still stirred his heart when he was ushered into the impluvium, where the magistrates were impatiently awaiting the owner of the house. with the lucidity peculiar to him, he explained his reasons for hoping that their errand would be vain, and apollonius replied that no one would rejoice more than he himself if the regent should authorize him, on the morrow, to countermand his mission. he would gladly wait there longer to afford the old man's granddaughter an opportunity to soften the tidings of the impending misfortune. the kind-hearted man's patience, however, was not tested too long; for when helena entered the summer-house didymus had already been informed of the disaster which threatened him and his family. the philosopher euphranor, an elderly member of the museum, had reached him through the garden gate, and, spite of philotas's warning sign, told him what was occurring. but didymus knew the old philosopher, who, a recluse from the world like himself, was devoting the remainder of his life and strength to the pursuit of science. so he only shook his head incredulously, pushed back the thin locks of grey hair which hung down on his cheeks over the barest part of his skull, and exclaimed reproachfully, though as if the matter under discussion was of the most trivial importance: "what have you been hearing? we'll see about it!" he had risen as he spoke, and too abruptly surprised by the news to remember the sandals on the mat and the upper robe which lay on a chest of drawers at the end of the room, he was in the act of quitting it, when his friend, who had silently watched his movements, stopped him, and helena entered. the grey-haired sage turned to her, and, vexed by his friend's doubts, begged her to convince her grandfather that even matters which do not please us may nevertheless be of some importance. she did so as considerately as possible, thinking meanwhile of the architect and his hopes. didymus, with his eyes bent on the ground, shook his grey head again and again. then, suddenly raising it, he rushed to the door, and without heeding the upper garment which helena still held in her hand, tore it open, shouting, "but things must and shall be changed!" euphranor and his granddaughter followed. though his head was bowed, he crossed the little garden with a swift, firm tread, and, without noticing the questions and warnings of his companions, walked at once to the impluvium. the bright light dazzled his weakened eyes, and his habit of gazing into vacancy or on the ground compelled him to glance from side to side for some time, ere he could accustom himself to it. apollonius approached, greeted him respectfully, and assured him that he deeply regretted having interrupted him in the work for which the whole world was waiting, but he had come on important business. "i know, i know," the old scholar answered with a smile of superiority. "what is all this ado about?" as he spoke he looked around the group of spectators, among whom he knew no one except apollonius, who had charge of the museum accounts, and the architect, for whom he had composed the inscription on the odeum, which he had recently built. but when his eyes met only unfamiliar faces, the confidence which hitherto had sustained him began to waver, though still convinced that a demand such as the philosopher suggested could not possibly be made upon him, he continued: "it is stated that there is a plan for turning my garden into a public square. and for what purpose? to erect a piece of sculpture. but there can be nothing serious in the rumour, for my property is recorded in the land register, and the law--" "pardon me," apollonius broke in, "if i interrupt you. we know the ordinance to which you refer, but this case is an exceptional one. the regent desires to take nothing from you. on the contrary, he offers, in the name of the queen, any compensation you yourself may fix for the piece of land which is to be honoured by the statues of the highest personages in the country--cleopatra and antony, hand in hand. the piece of sculpture has already been brought here. a work by the admirable artist lysander, who passed too early to the nether world, certainly will not disfigure your house. the little summer-house by the sea must be removed to-morrow, it is true; you know that our gracious queen may return any day-victorious if the immortals are just. this piece of sculpture, which is created in her honour, to afford her pleasure, must greet her on her arrival, so the regent send me to-day to communicate his wish, which, as he represents the queen--" "yet," interrupted the architect, who had again warmly assured the old man's granddaughter of his aid" yet your friends will endeavour to persuade the regent to find another place for the statues." "they are at liberty to do so," said the officer. "what will happen later the future will show. my office merely requires me to induce the worthy owner of this house and garden to submit to-day to the queen's command, which the regent and my own heart bid me clothe in the form of a request." during this conversation the old man had at first listened silently to the magistrate's words, gazing intently into his face. so it was true. the demand to yield up his garden, and even the little house, for fifty years the scene of his study and creative work, for the sake of a statue, would be made. since this had become a certainty, he had stood with his eyes fixed upon the ground. grief had paralyzed his tongue, and helena, who felt this, for the aged head seemed as if it were bending under a heavy burden, had drawn close to his side. the shouts and howls of the throng outside echoed through the open roof of the impluvium, but the old man did not seem to hear them, and did not even notice his granddaughter. yet, no sooner did he feel her touch than he hurriedly shrank away, flung back his drooping head, and gazed around the circle of intruders. the dull, questioning eyes of the old commentator and writer of many books now blazed with the hot fire of youthful passion and, like a wrestler who seeks the right grip, he measured apollonius and his companions with wrathful glances. the fragile recluse seemed transformed into a warrior ready for battle. his lips and the nostrils of his delicate nose quivered, and when apollonius began to say that it would be wise to remove the contents of the summer-house that day, as it would be torn down early the next morning, didymus raised his arms, exclaiming: "that will not be done. not a single roll shall be removed! they will find me at work as usual early to-morrow morning, and if it is still your wish to rob me of my property you must use violence to attain your purpose." calm yourself," replied apollonius. "every one beneath the moon must submit to a higher power; the gods bow to destiny, we mortals to the sovereign. you are a sage; i, merely mindful of the behests of duty, administer my office. but i know life, and if i may offer my counsel, you will accept what cannot be averted, and i will wager ten to one that you will have the best of it; that the queen will place in your hands means--" "sufficient to build a palace on the site of the little house of which i was robbed," didymus interrupted bitterly. then rage burst forth afresh "what do i care for your money? i want my rights, my good, guaranteed rights. i insist upon them, and whoever assails the ground which my grandfather and father bequeathed to me--" he hesitated, for the throng outside had burst into a loud shout of joy; and when it died away, and the old man began once more defiantly to claim his rights, he was interrupted by a woman's clear tones, addressing him with the greek greeting, "rejoice!"--a voice so gay and musical that it seemed to dispel the depression which rested like a grey fog on the whole company. while didymus was listening to the excited populace, and the new-comer was gazing at the old man whose rigid obstinacy could scarcely be conquered by kindness, the younger men were looking at the beautiful woman who joined them. her haste had flushed her cheeks, and from beneath the turquoise-blue kerchief that covered her fair locks a bewitching face smiled at her sister, the architect, and her grandfather. apollonius and many of his companions felt as if happiness in person had entered this imperilled house, and many an eye brightened when the infuriated old man exclaimed in an altered tone, "you here, barine?" and she, without heeding the presence of the others, kissed his cheek with tender affection. helena, gorgias, and the old philosopher euphranor, had approached her, and when the latter asked with loving reproach, "why, barine, how did you get through the howling mob?" she answered gaily: "that a learned member of the museum may receive me with the query whether i am here, though from childhood a kind or--what do you think, grandfather?--a malign fate has preserved me from being overlooked, and some one else reprovingly asks how i passed through the shouting mob, as if it were a crime to wade into the water to hold out a helping hand to those we love best when it is up to their chins! but, oh! dear, this howling is too hideous!" while speaking, she pressed her little hands on the part of the kerchief which concealed her ears, and said no more until the noise subsided, although she declared that she was in a hurry, and had only come to learn how matters were. meanwhile it seemed as if she was so full of quick, pulsing life, that it was impossible to leave even a moment unused, if it were merely to bestow or answer a friendly glance. the architect and her sister were obliged to return hurried answers to hasty questions; and as soon as she ascertained what had brought the strangers there she thanked apollonius, and said that old friends would do their best to spare her grandfather such a sorrow. in reply to repeated inquiries from the two old men in regard to her arrival there, she answered: "nobody will believe it, because in this hurry i could not keep my mouth shut; but i acted like a mute fish and reached the water." then, drawing her grandfather aside, she whispered to him that, when she left her boat at the harbour, archibius had seen her from his carriage, and instantly stopped it to inform her of his intended visit that evening. he was coming to discuss an important matter. therefore she must receive the worthy man, whom she sincerely liked, so she could not stay. then turning to the others still with her kerchief on her head ready for departure--she asked what the people meant by their outcries. the architect replied that philostratus had endeavoured to make the crowd believe that the only appropriate site for the statues of which she had heard was her grandfather's garden, and he thought he knew in whose behalf the fellow was acting. "certainly not in the regent's," said apollonius, in a tone of sincere conviction; but barine, over whose sunny brow a shadow had flitted when gorgias uttered the orator's name, assented with a slight bend of the head, and then whispered hurriedly, yet earnestly, that she would answer for the old man's allowing himself to be persuaded, if he had only time to collect his thoughts. the next morning, when the market was crowded, the officer might commence his negotiations afresh, if the regent insisted on his plan. meanwhile she would do her best to persuade her grandfather to yield, though he was not exactly one of the class who are easily guided. apollonius might remind the regent that it would be advisable at this time to avoid a public scandal, to remember didymus's age, and the validity of his claim. while apollonius was talking with his companions, barine beckoned to the architect, and hastily took leave of the others, protesting that she was in no danger, since she would slip away again like a fish, only this time she would use her tongue, and hoped by its means to win to the support of didymus's just cause a man who would already have ended all the trouble had the queen only been in alexandria. until now the eyes and ears of the whole company had been fixed upon barine. no one had desired anything better than to gaze at and listen to her. not until she had quitted the room with gorgias did the officials discuss the matter together, and soon after apollonius went away with his companions, to hold another conference with the regent about this unpleasant business. this time the architect had followed the young beauty with very mingled feelings. only an hour before he would have rejoiced to be permitted to accompany and protect barine; now he would have gladly remained with her sister, who had returned his farewell greeting so gratefully and yet with such maidenly modesty. but even the most vacillating man cannot change one fancy for another as he would replace a black piece on the draughtboard with a white one, and he still found it delightful to be so near barine. only the thought that helena might believe that he stood on very intimate terms with her sister had darted with a disquieting influence through his brain when the latter invited him to accompany her. in the garden barine begged him, before they went to the landing-place where the boat was moored, to help her ascend the narrow flight of steps leading to the flat roof of the gatekeeper's little house. here they could watch unseen the tumult in the square below, for it was surrounded by dense laurel bushes. bright flames were blazing in the pitch-pans before the two temples at the side of the corner of the muses, and their light was increased by the torches held in the hands of scythians. yet no individuals could be distinguished in the throng. the marble walls of the temples shimmered, the statues at didymus's gate, and the hermae along the street of the king which passed the threatened house and connected the north of the corner of the muses with the sea-shore, loomed from the darkness in the brilliancy of the reflected light, but the smoke of the torches darkened the sky and dimmed the starlight. the only persons distinctly visible were dion, who had stationed himself on the lofty framework of the platform on which the muffled statues had been drawn hither, and the attorney philostratus, who stood on the pedestal of one of the dolphins which surrounded the fountain between the temple of isis and the street. the space, a dozen paces wide, which divided them, permitted the antagonists to understand each other, and the attention of the whole throng was fixed upon the wranglers. these verbal battles were one of the greatest pleasures of the alexandrians, and they greeted every clever turn of speech with shouts of applause, every word which displeased them with groans, hisses, and cat-calls. barine could see and hear what was passing below. she had pushed aside the foliage of the laurel bushes which concealed her, and, with her hand raised to her ear, stood listening to the two disputants. when the scoundrel whom she had called husband, and for whom her contempt had become too deep for hate, sneeringly assailed her family as having been fed from generation to generation from the corn-bin of the museum, she bit her lips. but they soon curled, as if what she heard aroused her disgust, for the speaker now turned to dion and accused him of preventing the kindly disposed regent from increasing the renown of the great queen and affording her noble heart a pleasure. "my tongue," he cried, "is the tool which supports me. why am i using it here till it is weary and almost paralyzed? in honour of cleopatra, our illustrious queen, and her generous friend, to whom we all owe a debt of gratitude. let all who love her and the divine antony, the new herakles and dionysus--both will soon make their entry among us crowned with the laurels of victory--join the regent and every well-disposed person in seizing yonder bit of land so meanly withheld by base avarice and a sentiment--a sentiment, do you hear?--which i do not name more plainly, simply because wickedness is repulsive to me, and i do not stand here as an accuser. whoever upholds the word-monger who spouts forth books as the dolphin at my side does water, may do so. i shall not envy him. but first look at didymus's ally and panegyrist. there he stands opposite to me. it would have been better for him had the dolphin at his feet taught him silence. then he might have remained in the obscurity which befits him. "but whether willing or not, i must drag him forth, and i will show you dion, fellow-citizens, though i would far rather have you see things which arouse less ire. the dim light prevents your distinguishing the colour of his robe, but i know it, for i saw it in the glare of day. it is hyacinthine purple. you know what that costs. it would support the wives and children of many among you for ten long years. 'how heavy must be the purse which can expose such a treasure to sun and rain!' is the thought of every one who sees him strutting about as proudly as a peacock. and his purse is loaded with many talents. only it is a pity that, day after day, most of you must give your children a little less bread and deprive yourselves of many a draught of wine to deck him out so bravely. his father, eumenes, was a tax-collector, and what the leech extorted from you and your children, the son now uses to drive, clad in hyacinthine purple, a four-horse chariot, which splashes the mire from the street into your faces as it rolls onward. by the dog! the gentleman does not weigh so very much, yet he needs four horses to drag him. and, fellow-citizens, do you know why? i'll tell you. he's afraid of sticking fast everywhere, even in his speech." here philostratus lowered his voice, for the phrase "sticking fast" had drawn a laugh from some of his hearers; but dion, whose father had really amassed, in the high position of a receiver of taxes, the handsome fortune which his son possessed, did not delay his reply. "yes, yes," he retorted scornfully, "yonder syrian babbler hit the mark this time. he stands before me, and who does not easily stick fast when marsh and mire are so near? as for the hyacinthine purple cloak, i wear it because i like it. his crocus-yellow one is less to my taste, though he certainly looks fine enough in it in the sunlight. it shines like a buttercup in the grass. you know the plant. when it fades--and i ask whether you think philostratus looks like a bud--when it fades, it leaves a hollow spiral ball which a child's breath could blow away. suppose in future we should call the round buttercup seed-vessels 'philostratus heads'? you like the suggestion? i am glad, fellow-citizens, and i thank you. it proves your good taste. then we will stick to the comparison. every head contains a tongue, and philostratus says that his is the tool which supports him." "hear the money-bag, the despiser of the people!" interrupted philostratus furiously. "the honest toil by which a citizen earns a livelihood is a disgrace in his eyes." "honest toil, my good friend," replied dion, "is scarcely in question here. i spoke only of your tongue.--you understand me, fellow-citizens. or, if any of you are not yet acquainted with this worthy man, i will show him to you, for i know him well. he is my foe, yet i can sincerely recommend him to many of you. if any one has a very bad, shamefully corrupt cause to bring before the courts, i most earnestly counsel him to apply to the buttercup man perched on yonder fountain. he will thank me for it. believe me, didymus's cause is just, precisely because this advocate so eagerly assails it. i told you just now the matter under discussion. which of you who owns a garden can say in future, 'it is mine,' if, during the absence of the queen, it is allowable to take it away to be used for any other purpose? but this is what threatens didymus. if this is to be the custom here, let every one beware of sowing a radish or planting a bush or a tree, for should the wife of some great noble desire to dry her linen there, he may be deprived of it ere the former can ripen or the latter give shade." loud applause followed this sentence, but philostratus shouted in a voice that echoed far and wide: "hear me, fellow-citizens; do not allow your selves to be deceived! no one is to be robbed here. the project is to purchase, at a high price, the spot which the city needs for her adornment, and to honour and please the queen. are the regent and the citizens to lose this opportunity of expressing the gratitude of years, and the rejoicing over the greatest of victories, of which we shall soon hear, because an evil-disposed person--the word must be uttered--a foe to his country, opposes it?" "now the mire is coming too near me," dion angrily responded, "and i might really stick fast, as i was warned; for i do not envy the ready presence of mind of any person whose tongue would not falter when the basest slander scattered its venom over him. you all know, fellowcitizens, through how many generations the didymus family has lived to the honour of this city, doing praiseworthy work in yonder house. you know that the good old man who dwells there was one of the teachers of the royal children." "and yet," cried philostratus, "only the day before yesterday he walked arm in arm in the paneum garden with arius, the tutor of octavianus, our own and our queen's most hated foe. in my presence, and before i know not how many others, didymus distinguished this arius as his most beloved pupil." "to give you that title," retorted dion, "would certainly fill any teacher with shame and anger, no matter how far you had surpassed him in wisdom and knowledge. nay, had you been committed to the care of the herring dealers, instead of the rhetoricians, every honest man among them would disown you, for they sell only good wares for good money, while you give the poorest in exchange for glittering gold. this time you trample under foot the fair name of an honourable man. but i will not suffer it; and you hear, fellow-citizens, i now challenge this syrian to prove that didymus ever betrayed his native land, or i will brand him in your presence a base slanderer, an infamous, venal destroyer of character!" "an insult from such lips is easily borne," replied philostratus in a tone of scornful superiority; but there was a pause ere he again turned to the listening throng, and with all the warmth he could throw into his voice continued: "what do i desire, then, fellow-citizens? what is the sole object of my words? i stand here with clean hands, impelled solely by the impulse of my heart, to plead for the queen. in order to secure the only suitable site for the statues to be erected to cleopatra's honour and fame, i enter into judgment with her foes, expose myself to the insult with which boastful insolence is permitted to vent its wrath upon me. but i am not dismayed, though, in pursuing this course, i am acting against the law of nature; for the infamous man against whom i raise my voice was my teacher, too, and ere he turned from the path of right and virtue--under influences which i will not mention here--he numbered me also, in the presence of many witnesses, among his best pupils. i was certainly one of the most grateful--i chose his granddaughter--the truth must be spoken--for my wife. the possession--" "possession!" interrupted dion in a loud, excited tone. "the corpse cast ashore by the waves might as well boast possession of the sea!" the dim torchlight was sufficient to reveal philostratus's pallor to the bystanders. for a moment the orator seemed to lose his self-control, but he quickly recovered himself, and shouted: "fellow-citizens, dear friends! i was about to make you witnesses of the misery which a woman, whose wickedness is even greater than her beauty, brought upon an inexperienced--" but he went no further; for his hearers--many of whom knew the brilliant, generous dion, and barine, the fair singer at the last adonis festival-gave the orator tokens of their indignation, which were all the more pitiless because of the pleasure they felt in seeing an expert vanquished by an untrained foe. the wordy war would not have ended so quickly, however, had not restlessness and alarm taken possession of the crowd. the shout, "back! disperse!" ran through the multitude, and directly after the trampling of hoofs and the commands of the leader of a troop of libyan cavalry were heard. the matter at stake was not sufficiently important to induce the populace to offer an armed force resistance which might have entailed serious danger. besides, the blustering war of tongues had reached a merry close, and loud laughter blended with the shouts of fear and warning; for the surging throng had swept with unexpected speed towards the fountain and plunged philostratus into the basin. whether this was due to the wrath of some enemy, or to mere accident, could not be learned; the vain efforts of the luckless man to crawl out of the water up the smooth marble were so comical, and his gestures, after helping hands had dragged him dripping upon the pavement of the square, were so irresistibly funny, that more laughing than angry voices were heard, especially when some one cried, "his hands were soiled by blackening didymus, so the washing will do him good." "some wise physicians flung him into the water," retorted an other; "he needed the cold application after the blows dion dealt him." the regent, who had sent the troop of horsemen to drive the crowd away from didymus's house, might well be pleased that the violent measure encountered so little resistance. the throng quickly scattered, and was speedily attracted by something new at the theatre of dionysus--the zither-player anaxenor had just announced from its steps that cleopatra and antony had won the most brilliant victory, and had sung to the accompaniment of his lute a hymn which had deeply stirred all hearts. he had composed it long before, and seized the first opportunity--the report had reached his ears while breakfasting in kanopus--to try its effect. as soon as the square began to empty, barine left her post of observation. it was long since her heart had throbbed so violently. not one of the many suitors for her favour had been so dear to her as dion; but she now felt that she loved him. what he had just done for her and her grandfather was worthy of the deepest gratitude; it proved that he did not come to her house, like most of her guests, merely to while away the evening hours. it had been no small matter for the young aristocrat, in the presence of the whole multitude, to enter into a debate with the infamous philostratus, and how well he had succeeded in silencing the dreaded orator! besides, dion had even taken her part against his own powerful uncle, and perhaps by his deed drawn upon himself the hostility of his enemy's brother, alexas, antony's powerful favourite. barine might assure herself that he, who was the peer of any macedonian noble in the city, would have done this for no one else. she felt as if the act had ransomed her. when, after an unhappy marriage and many desolate days, she had regained her former bright cheerfulness and saw her house become the centre of the intellectual life of the city, she had striven until now to extend the same welcome to all her guests. she had perceived that she ought not to give any one the power over her which is possessed by the man who knows that he is beloved, and even to dion she had granted little more than to the others. but now she saw plainly that she would resign the pleasure of being a universally admired woman, whose modest home attracted the most distinguished men in the city, for the far greater happiness which would be hers as dion's beloved wife. with him, cherished by his love, she believed that she could find far greater joy in solitude than in the gay course of her present life. she knew now what she must do if dion sought her, and the architect, for the first time, found her a silent companion. he had willingly accompanied her back to her grandfather's house, where he had again met her sister helena, while she had quitted it disappointed, because her brave defender had not returned there. after the interruption of the debate dion had been in a very cheerful mood. the pleasant sensation of having championed a good cause, and the delightful consciousness of success were not new to him, but he had rarely felt so uplifted as now. he most ardently longed for his next meeting with barine, and imagined how he would describe what had happened and claim her gratitude for his friendly service. the scene had risen clearly before his mind, but scarcely had the radiant vision of the future faded when the unusually bright expression of his manly face was clouded by a grave and troubled one. the darkness of the night, illumined only by the flare of the pitch-pans, had surrounded him, yet it had seemed as if he were standing with barine in the full light of noon in the blossoming garden of his own palace, and, after asking a reward for his sturdy championship, she had clung to him with deep emotion, and he had passionately kissed her tearful face. the face had quickly vanished, yet it had been as distinct as the most vivid picture in a dream. was barine more to him than he supposed? had he not been drawn to her, during the past few months, by the mere charm of her pliant intellect and her bright beauty? had a new, strong passion awakened within him? was he in danger of seeing the will which urged him to preserve his freedom conquered? had he cause to fear that some day, constrained by a mysterious, invincible power, in defiance of the opposition of calm reason, he might perhaps bind himself for life to this barine, the woman who had once been the wife of a philostratus, and who bestowed her smiles on all who found admittance to her house seeking a feast for the eye, a banquet for the ear, a pleasant entertainment? though her honor was as stainless as the breast of a swan--and he had no reason to doubt it--she would still be classed with aspasia and other women whose guests sought more than songs and agreeable conversations. the gifts with which the gods had so lavishly endowed her had already been shared with too many to permit him, the last scion of a noble macedonian house, to think of leading her, as mistress, to the palace whose erection he had so carefully and successfully planned with gorgias. surely it lacked nothing save the gracious rule of a mistress. but if she should consent to become his without the blessing of hymen? no. he could not thus dishonor the granddaughter of didymus, the man who had been his father's revered teacher, a woman whom he had always rejoiced that, spite of the gay freedom with which she received so many admirers, he could still esteem. he would not do so, though his friends would have greeted such scruples with a smile of superiority. who revered the sacredness of marriage in a city whose queen was openly living for the second time with the husband of another? dion himself had formed many a brief connection, but for that very reason he could not place a woman like barine on the same footing with those whose love he had perhaps owed solely to his wealth. he had never lacked courage and resolution, but he felt that this time he would have to resist a power with which he had never coped. that accursed face! again and again it rose before his mental vision, smiling and beckoning so sweetly that the day must come when the yearning to realize the dream would conquer all opposition. if he remained near her he would inevitably do what he might afterwards regret, and therefore he would fain have offered a sacrifice to peitho to induce her to enhance archibius's powers of persuasion and induce barine to leave alexandria. it would be hard for him to part from her, yet much would be gained if she went into the country. between the present and the distant period of a second meeting lay respite from peril, and perhaps the possibility of victory. dion did not recognize himself. he seemed as unstable as a swaying reed, because he had conquered his wish to re-enter old didymus's house and encourage him, and passed on to his own home. but he would probably have found barine still with her grandfather, and he would not meet her, though every fibre of his being longed for her face, her voice, and a word of gratitude from her beloved lips. instead of joy, he was filled with the sense of dissatisfaction which overpowers a man standing at a crossing in the roads, who sees before him three goals, yet can be fully content with neither. the street of the king, along which he suffered himself to be carried by the excited throng, ran between the sea and the theatre of dionysus. the thought darted through his mind that his friend the architect desired to erect the luckless statues of the royal lovers in front of this stately building. he would divert his thoughts by examining the site which gorgias had chosen. the zither-player finished his hymn just as dion approached the theatre, and the crowd began to disperse. every one was full of the joyful tidings of victory, and one shouted to another what anaxenor, the favourite of the great antony, who must surely know, had just recited in thrilling verse. many a joyous io and loud evoe to cleopatra, the new isis, and antony, the new dionysus, resounded through the air, while bearded and smooth, delicate greek and thick egyptian lips joined in the shout, "to the sebasteum!" this was the royal palace, which faced the government building containing the regent's residence. the populace desired to have the delightful news confirmed, and to express, by a public demonstration, the grateful joy which filled every heart. dion, too, was eager to obtain certainty, and, though usually averse to mingling with the populace during such noisy outbursts of feeling, he was preparing to follow the crowd thronging towards the sebasteum, when the shouts of runners clearing a passage for a closed litter fell upon his ear. it was occupied by iras, the queen's trusted attendant. if any one could give accurate information, it was she; yet it would hardly be possible to gain an opportunity of conversing with her in this throng. but iras must have had a different opinion; she had seen dion, and now called him to her side. there were hoarse tones in her voice, usually so clear and musical, which betrayed the emotion raging in her breast as she assailed the young macedonian noble with a flood of questions. without giving him the usual greeting, she hastily desired to know what was exciting the people, who had brought the tidings of victory, and whither the multitude was flocking? dion had found it difficult not to be forced from the litter while answering. iris perceived this, and as they were just passing the maeander, the labyrinth, which was closed after sunset, she ordered her bearers to carry the litter to the entrance, made herself known to the watchman, ordered the outer court to be opened, the litter to be placed there, and the bearers and runners to wait outside for her summons, which would soon be given. this unusual haste and excitement filled dion with just solicitude. she refused his invitation to alight and walk up and down, declaring that life offered so many labyrinths that one need not seek them. he, too, seemed to be following paths which were scarcely straight ones. "why," she concluded, thrusting her head far out of the opening in the litter, "are you rendering it so difficult for the regent and your own uncle to execute their plans, making common cause with the populace, like a paid agitator?" "like philostratus, you mean, on whom i bestowed a few blows in addition to the golden guerdon received from your hand?" "ay, like him, for aught i care. probably it was you, too, who had him flung into the water, after you had vented your wrath on him? you managed your cause well. what we do for love's sake is usually successful. no matter, if only his brother alexas does not rouse antony against you. for my part, i merely desire to know why and for whom all this was done." "for whom save the good old man who was my father's preceptor, and his just claim?" replied dion frankly. "moreover--for no site more unsuitable could be found than his garden-in behalf of good taste." iras laughed a shrill, short laugh, and her narrow, regularly formed face, which might have been called beautiful, had not the bridge of the straight delicate nose been too long and the chin too small, darkened slightly, as she exclaimed, "that is frank at least." "you ought to be accustomed to that from me," replied dion calmly. "in this case, however, the expert, gorgias, fully shares my opinion." "i heard that too. you are both the most constant visitors of--what is the woman's name?--the bewitching barine." "barine?" repeated dion, as if the mention of the name surprised him. "you take care, my friend, that our conversation does honour to its scene, the labyrinth. i speak of works of the sculptor's art, and you pretend that i am referring to what is most certainly a very successful living work from the creative hands of the gods. i was very far from thinking of the granddaughter of the old scholar for whom i interceded." "ay," she scornfully retorted, "young gentlemen in your position, and with your habits of life, always think of their fathers estimable teachers rather than of the women who, ever since pandora opened her box, have brought all sorts of misfortunes into the world. but," she added, pushing back her dark locks from her high forehead, "i don't understand myself, how, with the mountain of care that now burdens my soul, i can waste even a single word upon such trifles. i care as little for the aged scholar as i do for his legion of commentaries and books, though they are not wholly unfamiliar to me. for any concern of mine he might have as many grandchildren as there are evil tongues in alexandria, were it not that just at this time it is of the utmost importance to remove everything which might cast a shadow on the queen's pathway. i have just come from the palace of the royal children at lochias, and what i learned there. but that--i will not, i cannot believe it. it fairly stifles me!" "have you received bad news from the fleet?" questioned dion, with sincere anxiety; but she only bent her head in assent, laying her fan of ostrich-plumes on her lips to enjoin silence, at the same time shivering so violently that he perceived it, even in the dusk. it was evident that speech was difficult, as she added in a muffled tone: "it must be kept secret--rhodian sailors--thank the gods, it is still very doubtful--it cannot, must not be true--and yet-the prattle of that zither-player, which has filled the multitude with joyous anticipation, is abominable-the great ones of the earth are often most sorely injured by those who owe them the most gratitude. i know you can be silent, dion. you could as a boy, if anything was to be hidden from our parents. would you still be ready to plunge into the water for me, as in those days? scarcely. yet you may be trusted, and, even in this labyrinth, i will do so. my heart is heavy. but not one word to any person. i need no confidant and could maintain silence even towards you, but i am anxious that you should understand me, you who have just taken such a stand. before i entered my litter at lochias, the boy returned, and i talked with him." "young caesarion loves barine," replied dion with grave earnestness. "then this horrible folly is known?" asked iras excitedly. "a passion far deeper than i should ever have expected this dreamer to feel has taken possession of him. and if the queen should now return--perhaps less successful than we desire--if she looks to those from whom she still expects pleasure, satisfaction, lofty deeds, and learns what has befallen the boy--for what does not that sun-bright intellect learn and perceive? he is dear to her, dearer than any of you imagine. how it will increase her anxiety, perhaps her suffering! with what good reason she will be angered against those whom duty and love should have commanded to guard the boy!" "and therefore," added dion, "the stone of offence must be removed. your first step to secure this object was the attack on didymus." he had judged correctly and perceived that, in her assault upon the old scholar, she had at first intended to play into the hands of the rulers, work against the old philosopher and his relatives, among whose number was barine; for the egyptian law permitted the relatives of those who were convicted of any crime against the sovereign or the government to be banished with the criminal. this attack upon an innocent person was disgraceful, yet every word iras uttered made dion feel, every feature of her face betrayed, that it was not merely base jealousy, but a nobler emotion, that caused her to assail the guiltless sage--love for her mistress, the desire which dominated her whole being to guard cleopatra from grief and trouble in these trying times. he knew iras's iron will and the want of consideration with which she had learned to pursue her purpose at the court. his first object was to protect barine from the danger which threatened her; but he also wished to relieve the anxiety of iras, the daughter of krates, his father's neighbour, with whom he had played in boyhood and for whom he had never ceased to feel a tender interest. his remark surprised her. she saw that her plot was detected by the man whose esteem she most valued, and a loving woman is glad to recognize the superiority of her lover. besides, from her earliest childhood--and she was only two years younger than dion--she had belonged to circles where no quality was more highly prized than mental pliancy and keenness. her dark eyes, which at first had glittered distrustfully and questioningly and afterwards glowed with a gloomy light, now gained a new expression. her gaze sought her friend's with a tender, pleading look as, admitting his charge, she began: "yes! dion, the philosopher's granddaughter must not stay here. or do you see any other way to protect the unhappy boy from incalculable misfortune? you know me well enough to be aware that, like you, i am reluctant to infringe another's rights, that except in case of necessity i am not cruel. i value your esteem. no one is more truthful, and yesterday you averred that eros had no part in your visits to the much-admired young woman, that you joined her guests merely because the society you found at her house afforded a pleasant stimulus to the mind. i have ceased to believe in many things, but not in you and your words, and if hearing that you had taken sides with the grandfather, i fancied that you were secretly seeking the thanks and gratitude of the granddaughter, why--surely the atrocious maxim that zeus does not hear the vows of lovers comes from you men--why, suspicion again reared its head. now you seem to share my opinion--" "like you," dion interrupted, "i believe that barine ought to be withdrawn from the boy's pursuit, which cannot be more unpleasant to you than to her. as caesarion neither can nor ought to leave alexandria while affairs are so threatening, nothing is left except to remove the young woman--but, of course, in all kindness." "in a golden chariot, garlanded with roses, if you so desire," cried iras eagerly. "that might attract attention," answered dion, smiling and raising his hand as if to enjoin moderation. "your mode of action does not please me, even now that i know its purpose, but i will gladly aid you to attain your object. your crooked paths also lead to the goal, and perhaps one is less likely to stumble in them; but straight ways suit me better, and i think i have already found the right one. a friend will invite barine to an estate far away from here, perhaps in the lake regions." "you?" cried iras, her narrow eyebrows suddenly contracting. "do you imagine that she would go with me?" he asked, in a faintly reproachful tone. "no. fortunately, we have older friends, and at their head is one who happens to be your uncle and at the same time is wax in the hands of the queen." "archibius?" exclaimed iras. "ah! if he could persuade her to do so!" "he will try. he, too, is anxious about the lad. while we are talking here, he is inviting barine to his estate. the country air will benefit her." "may she bloom there like a young shepherdess!" "you are right to wish her the best fortune; for if the queen does not return victorious, the irritability of our alexandrians will be doubled. when you laid hands on didymus's garden, you were so busily engaged in building the triumphal arch that you forgot--" "who would have doubted the successful issue of this war?" cried iras. "and they will, they will conquer. the rhodian said that the fleet was scattered. the disaster happened on the acharnanian coast. how positive it sounded! but he had it only at second and third hand. and what are mere rumours? the source of the false tidings is discovered later. besides, even if the naval battle were really lost, the powerful army, which is far superior to octavianus's forces, still remains. which of the enemy's generals could cope with antony on the land? how he will fight when all is at stake-fame, honour, sovereignty, hate, and love! away with this fear, based on mere rumour! after dyrrachium caesar's cause was deemed lost, and how soon pharsalus made him master of the world! is it worthy of a sensible person to suffer courage to be depressed by a sailor's gossip? and yet--yet! it began while i was ill. and then the swallows on the antonias, the admiral's ship. we have already spoken of it. mardiou and your uncle zeno saw with their own eyes the strange swallows drive away those which had built their nest on the helm of the antonias, and kill the young ones with their cruel beaks. an evil omen! "i cannot forget it. and my dream, while i lay ill with fever far away from my mistress! but i have already lingered here too long. no, dion, no. i am grateful for the rest here--i can now feel at ease about caesarion. place the monument where you choose. the people shall see and hear that we respect their opposition, that we are just and friendly. help me to turn this matter to the advantage of the queen, and if archibius succeeds in getting barine away and keeping her in the country, then--if i had aught that seemed to you desirable it should be yours. but what does the petted dion care for his fading playfellow?" "fading?" he repeated in a tone of indignant reproach. "say rather the fully developed flower has learned from her royal friend the secret of eternal youth." with a swift impulse of gratitude iras bent her face towards him in the dusk, extending the slender white hand--next to cleopatra's famed as the most beautiful at court--for him to kiss, but when he merely pressed his lips lightly on it with no shadow of tenderness, she hastily withdrew it, exclaiming as if overwhelmed by sudden repentance: "this idle, hollow dalliance at such a time, with such a burden of anxiety oppressing the heart! it is un worthy, shameful! if barine goes with archibius, her time will scarcely hang heavy on his estates. i think i know some one who will speedily follow to bear her company.--here, sasis! the bearers! to the tower of nilus, before the gate of the sun!" dion gazed after her litter a short time, then passed his hand through his waving brown hair, walked swiftly to the shore and, without pausing long to choose, sprang into one of the boats which were rented for pleasure voyages. ordering the sailors who were preparing to accompany him to remain on shore, he stretched the sail with a practised hand, and ran out towards the mouth of the harbour. he needed some strong excitement, and wished to go himself in search of news. etext editor's bookmarks: contempt had become too deep for hate jealousy has a thousand eyes zeus does not hear the vows of lovers this ebook was produced by david widger <widger@cecomet.net> a thorny path by georg ebers volume 8. chapter xxiii. the slave argutis was waiting for melissa in the antechamber. it was evident that he brought good news, for he beamed with joy as she came toward him; and before she left the house she knew that her father and philip had returned and had regained their freedom. the slave had not allowed these joyful tidings to reach his beloved mistress's ear, that he might have the undivided pleasure of bringing them himself, and the delight she expressed was fully as great as he had anticipated. melissa even hurried back to johanna to impart to her the joyful intelligence that she might tell it to her mistress. when they were in the street the slave told her that, at break of day, the ship had cast anchor which brought back father and son. the prisoners had received their freedom while they were still at sea, and had been permitted to return home at once. all was well, only--he added, hesitatingly and with tears in his eyes--things were not as they used to be, and now the old were stronger than the young. her father had taken no harm from the heavy work at the oars, but philip had returned from the galleys very ill, and they had carried him forthwith to the bedchamber, where dido was now nursing him. it was a good thing that she had not been there to hear how the master had stormed and cursed over the infamy they had had to endure; but the meeting with his birds had calmed him down quickly enough. melissa and her attendant were walking in the direction of the serapeum, but now she declared that she must first see the liberated prisoners. and she insisted upon it, although argutis assured her of her father's intention of seeking her at the house of the high-priest, as soon as he had removed all traces of his captivity and his shameful work at the galleys in the bath. philip she would, of course, find at home, he being too weak to leave the house. the old man had some difficulty in following his young mistress, and she soon stepped lightly over the "welcome" on the threshold of her father's house. never had the red mosaic inscription seemed to shine so bright and friendly, and she heard her name called in delighted tones from the kitchen. this joyful greeting from dido was not to be returned from the door only. in a moment melissa was standing by the hearth; but the slave, speechless with happiness, could only point with fork and spoon, first to the pot in which a large piece of meat was being boiled down into a strengthening soup for philip, then to a spit on which two young chickens were browning before the fire, and then to the pan where she was frying the little fish of which the returned wanderer was so fond. but the old woman's struggle between the duty that kept her near the fire and the love that drew her away from it was not of long duration. in a few minutes melissa, her hands clasping the slave's withered arm, was listening to the tender words of welcome that dido had ready for her. the slave woman declared that she scarcely dared to let her eyes rest upon her mistress, much less touch her with the fingers that had just been cleaning fish; for the girl was dressed as grandly as the daughter of the high-priest. melissa laughed at this; but the slave went on to say that they had not been able to detain her master. his longing to see his daughter and the desire to speak with caesar had driven him out of the house, and alexander had, of course, accompanied him. only philip, poor, crushed worm, was at home, and the sight of her would put more strength into him than the strong soup and the old wine which his father had fetched for him from the store-room, although he generally reserved it for libations on her mother's grave. melissa soon stood beside her brother's couch, and the sight of him cast a dark shadow over the brightness of this happy morn. as he recognized her, a fleeting smile crossed the pale, spiritualized face, which seemed to her to have grown ten years older in this short time; but it vanished as quickly as it had come. then the great eyes gazed blankly again from the shadows that surrounded them, and a spasm of pain quivered from time to time round the thin, tightly closed lips. melissa could hardly restrain her tears. was this what he had been brought to-the youth who only a few days ago had made them all feel conscious of the superiority of his brilliant mind! her warm heart made her feel more lovingly toward her sick brother than she had ever done when he was in health, and surely he was conscious of the tenderness with which she strove to comfort him. the unaccustomed, hard, and degrading work at the oars, she assured him, would have worn out a stronger man than he; but he would soon be able to visit the museum again and argue as bravely as ever. with this, she bent over him to kiss his brow, but he raised himself a little, and said, with a contemptuous smile: "apathy--ataraxy--complete indifference--is the highest aim after which the soul of the skeptic strives. that at least "=-and here his eyes flashed for a moment--"i have attained to in these cursed days. that a thinking being could become so utterly callous to everything--everything, be it what it may--even i could never have believed!" he sank into silence, but his sister urged him to take courage--surely many a glad day was before him yet. at this he raised himself more energetically, and exclaimed: "glad days?--for me, and with you? that you should still be of such good cheer would please or else astonish me if i were still capable of those sentiments. if things were different, i should ask you now, what have you given the imperial bloodhound in return for our freedom?" here melissa exclaimed indignantly, but he continued unabashed: "alexander says you have found favor with our imperial master. he calls, and you come. naturally, it is for him to command. see how much can be made of the child of a gem-cutter! but what says handsome diodoros to all this?--why turn so pale? these, truly, are questions which i would fling in your face were things as they used to be. now i say in all unconcern, do what you will!" the blood had ebbed from melissa's cheeks during this attack of her brother's. his injurious and false accusations roused her indignation to the utmost, but one glance at his weary, suffering face showed her how great was the pain he endured, and in her compassionate heart pity strove against righteous anger. the struggle was sharp, but pity prevailed; and, instead of punishing him by a sharp retort, she forced herself to explain to him in a few gentle words what had happened, in order to dispel the unworthy suspicion that must surely hurt him as much as it did her. she felt convinced that the sufferer would be cheered by her words; but he made no attempt to show that he appreciated her kindly moderation, nor to express any satisfaction. on the contrary, when he spoke it was in the same tone as before. "if that be the case," he said, "so much the better; but were it otherwise, it would have to be endured just the same. i can think of nothing that could affect me now, and it is well. only my body troubles me still. it weighs upon me like lead, and grows heavier with every word i utter. therefore, i pray you, leave me to myself!" but his sister would not obey. "no, philip," she cried, eagerly, "this may not be. let your strong spirit arise and burst asunder the bonds that fetter and cripple it." at this a groan of pain escaped the philosopher, and, turning again to the girl, he answered, with a mournful smile: "bid the cushion in that arm-chair do so. it will succeed better than i!" then crying out impatiently and as loudly as he could, "now go--you know not how you torture me!" he turned away from her and buried his face in the pillows. but melissa, as if beside herself, laid her hands upon his shoulder, and, shaking him gently, exclaimed: "and even if it vexes you, i will not be driven away thus. the misfortunes that have befallen you in these days will end by destroying you, if you will not pull yourself together. we must have patience, and it can only come about slowly, but you must make an effort. the least thing that pains you hurts us too, and you, in return, may not remain indifferent to what we feel. see, philip, our mother and andrew taught us often not to think only of ourselves, but of others. we ask so little of you; but if you--" at this the philosopher shook himself free of her hand, and cried in a voice of anguish: "away, i say! leave me alone! one word more, and i die!" with this he hid his head in the coverlet, and melissa could see how his limbs quivered convulsively as if shaken by an ague. to see a being so dear to her thus utterly broken down cut her to the heart. oh, that she could help him! if she did not succeed, or if he never found strength to rouse himself, he, too, would be one of caesar's victims. corrupted and ruined lives marked the path of this terrible being, and, with a shudder, she asked herself when her turn would come. her hair had become disordered, and as she smoothed it she looked in the mirror, and could not but observe that in the simple but costly white robe of the dead korinna she looked like a maiden of noble birth rather than the lowly daughter of an artist. she would have liked to tear it off and replace it by another, but her one modest festival robe had been left behind at the house of the lady berenike. to appear in broad daylight before the neighbors or to walk in the streets clad in this fashion seemed to her impossible after her brother's unjust suspicion, and she bade argutis fetch her a litter. when they parted, dido could see distinctly that philip had wounded her. and she could guess how, so she withheld any questions, that she might not hurt her. over the fire, however, she stabbed fiercely into the fowl destined for the philosopher, but cooked it, nevertheless, with all possible care. on the way to the serapeum, melissa's anxiety increased. till now, eagerness for the fray, fear, hope, and the joyful consciousness of right-doing, had alternated in her mind. now, for the first time, she was seized with a premonition of misfortune. fate itself had turned against her. even should she succeed in escaping, she could not hope to regain her lost peace of mind. philip's biting words had shown her what most of them must think of her; and, though the ship should bear her far away, would it be right to bring diodoros away from his old father to follow her? she must see her lover, and if possible tell him all. the rose, too, which the christian had given her for him, and which lay in her lap, she wished so much to carry to him herself. she could not go alone to the chamber of the convalescent, and the attendance of a slave counted for nothing in the eyes of other people. it was even doubtful if a bondsman might be admitted into the inner apartments of the sanctuary. however, she would, she must see diodoros and speak to him; and thus planning ways and means by which to accomplish this, looking forward joyfully to the meeting with her father, and wondering how agatha, the christian, had received alexander, she lost the feeling of deep depression which had weighed on her when she had left the house. the litter stopped, and argutis helped her to descend. he was breathless, for it had been most difficult to open a way for her through the dense crowds that were already thronging to the circus, where the grand evening performance in honor of the emperor was to begin as soon as it was dark. just as she was entering the house, she perceived andreas coming toward them along the street of hermes, and she at once bade the slave call him. he was soon at her side, and declared himself willing to accompany her to diodoros. this time, however, she did not find her lover alone in the sick-room. two physicians were with him, and she grew pale as she recognized in one of them the emperor's roman body-physician. but it was too late too escape detection; so she only hastened to her lover's side, whispered warm words of love in his ear, and, while she gave him the rose, conjured him ever and always to have faith in her and in her love, whatever reports he might hear. diodoros was up and had fully recovered. his face lighted up with joy as he saw her; but, when she repeated the old, disquieting request, he anxiously begged to know what she meant by it. she assured him, however, that she had already delayed too long, and referred him to andreas and the lady euryale, who would relate to him what had befallen her and spoiled every happy hour she had. then, thinking herself unobserved by those present, she breathed a kiss upon his lips. but he would not let her go, urging with passionate tenderness his rights as her betrothed, till she tore herself away from him and hurried from the room. as she left, she heard a ringing laugh, followed by loud, sprightly talking. it was not her lover's voice, and endeavoring, while she waited for andreas, to catch what was being said on the other side of the door, she distinctly heard the body-physician (for no other pronounced the greek language in that curious, halting manner) exclaim, gayly: "by cerberus, young man, you are to be envied! the beauty my sovereign lord is limping after flies unbidden into your arms!" then came loud laughter as before, but this time interrupted by diodoros's indignant question as to what this all meant. at last melissa heard andreas's deep voice promising the young man to tell him everything later on; and when the convalescent impatiently asked for an immediate explanation, the christian exhorted him to be calm, and finally requested the physician to grant him a few moments' conversation. then there was quiet for a time in the room, only broken by diodoros's angry questions and the pacifying exclamations of the freedman. she felt as if she must return to her lover and tell him herself what she had been forced to do in these last days, but maidenly shyness restrained her, till at last andreas came out. the freedman's honest face expressed the deepest solicitude, and his voice sounded rough and hasty as he exclaimed, "you must fly--fly this day!" and my father and brother, and diodoros?" she asked, anxiously. but he answered, urgently: "let them get away as they may. there is no hole or corner obscure enough to keep you hidden. therefore take advantage of the ship that waits for you. follow argutis at once to the lady berenike. i can not accompany you, for it lies with me to occupy for the next few hours the attention of the body-physician, from whom you have the most to fear. he has consented to go with me to my garden across the water. there i promised him a delicious, real alexandrian feast, and you know how gladly polybius will seize the opportunity to share it with him. no doubt, too, some golden means may be found to bind his tongue; for woe to you if caracalla discovers prematurely that you are promised to another, and woe then to your betrothed! after sundown, when every one here has gone to the circus, i will take diodoros to a place of safety. farewell, child, and may our heavenly father defend you!" he laid his right hand upon her head as if in blessing; but melissa cried, wringing her hands: "oh, let me go to him once more! how can i leave him and go far away without one word of farewell or of forgiveness?" but andreas interrupted her, saying: "you can not. his life is at stake as well as your own. i shall make it my business to look after his safety. the wife of seleukus will assist you in your flight." "and you will persuade him to trust me?" urged melissa, clinging convulsively to his arm. "i will try," answered the freedman, gloomily. melissa, dropped his arm, for loud, manly voices were approaching down the stairs near which they stood. it was heron and alexander, returning from their audience with the emperor. instantly the christian went to meet them, and dismissed the temple servant who accompanied them. in the half-darkness of the corridor, melissa threw herself weeping into her father's arms. but he stroked her hair lovingly, and kissed her more tenderly on brow and eyes than he had ever clone before, whispering gayly to her: "dry your tears, my darling. you have been a brave maiden, and now comes your reward. fear and sorrow will now be changed into happiness and power, and all the glories of the world. i have not even told alexander yet what promises to make our fortunes, for i know my duty." then, raising his voice, he said to the freedman, "if i have been rightly informed, we shall find the son of polybius in one of the apartments close at hand." "quite right," answered the freedman, gravely, and then went on to explain to the gem-cutter that he could not see diodoros just now, but must instantly leave the country with his son and daughter on berenike's ship. not a moment was to be lost. melissa would tell him all on the way. but heron laughed scornfully: "that would be a pretty business! we have plenty of time, and, with the greatness that lies before us, everything must be done openly and in the right way. my first thought, you see, was to come here, for i had promised the girl to diodoros, and he must be informed before i can consent to her betrothal to another." "father!" cried melissa, scarcely able to command her voice. but heron took no notice of her, and continued, composedly: "diodoros would have been dear to me as a son-in-law. i shall certainly tell him so. but when caesar, the ruler of the world, condescends to ask a plain man for his daughter, every other consideration must naturally be put aside. diodoros is sensible, and is sure to see it in the right light. we all know how caesar treats those who are in his way; but i wish the son of polybius no ill, so i forbore to betray to caesar what tie had once bound you, my child, to the gallant youth." heron had never liked the freedman. the man's firm character had always gone against the gemcutter's surly, capricious nature; and it was no little satisfaction to him to let him feel his superiority, and boast before him of the apparent good luck that had befallen the artist's family. but andreas had already heard from the physician that caracalla had informed his mother's envoys of his intended marriage with an alexandrian, the daughter of an artist of macedonian extraction. this could only refer to melissa, and it was this news which had caused him to urge the maiden to instant flight. pale, incapable of uttering a word, melissa stood before her father; but the freedman grasped her hand, looked heron reproachfully in the face, and asked, quietly, "and you would really have the heart to join this dear child's life to that of a bloody tyrant?" "certainly i have," returned heron with decision, and he drew his daughter's hand out of that of andreas, who turned his back upon the artist with a meaning shrug of the shoulders. but melissa ran after him, and, clinging to him, cried as she turned first to him and then to her father: "i am promised to diodoros, and shall hold fast to him and my love; tell him that, andreas! come what may, i will be his and his alone! caesar--" "swear not!" broke in heron, angrily, "for by great serapis--" but alexander interposed between them, and begged his father to consider what he was asking of the girl. caesar's proposals could scarcely have been very pleasing to him, or why had he concealed till now what caracalla was whispering to him in the adjoining room? he might imagine for himself what fate awaited the helpless child at the side of a husband at whose name even men trembled. he should remember her mother, and what she would have said to such a union. there was little, time to escape from this terrible wooer. then melissa turned to her brother and begged him earnestly: "then you take me to the ship alexander; take charge of me yourself!" "and i?" asked heron, his eye cast gloomily on the ground. "you must come with us!" implored the girl, clasping her hands.--"o andreas! say something! tell him what i have to expect!" "he knows that without my telling him," replied the freedman. "i must go now, for two lives are at stake, heron. if i can not keep the physician away from caesar, your daughter, too, will be in danger. if you desire to see your daughter forever in fear of death, give her in marriage to caracalla. if you have her happiness at heart, then escape with her into a far country." he nodded to the brother and sister, and returned to the sick-room. "fly!--escape!" repeated the old man, and he waived his hand angrily. "this andreas--the freedman, the christian--always in extremes. why run one's head against the wall? first consider, then act; that was what she taught us whose sacred memory you have but now invoked, alexander." with this he walked out of the half-dark corridor into the open courtyard, in front of his children. here he looked at his daughter, who was breathing fast, and evidently prepared to resist to the last. and as he beheld her in korinna's white and costly robes, like a noble priestess, it occurred to him that even before his captivity she had ceased to be the humble, unquestioning instrument of his capricious temper. into what a haughty beauty the quiet embroideress had been transformed! by all the gods! caracalla had no cause to be ashamed of such an empress. and, unaccustomed as he was to keep back anything whatever from his children, he began to express these sentiments. but he did not get far, for the hour for the morning meal being just over, the court-yard began to fill from all sides with officials and servants of the temple. so, father and son silently followed the maiden through the crowded galleries and apartments, into the house of the highpriest. here they were received by philostratus, who hardly gave melissa time to greet the lady euryale before he informed her, but with unwonted hurry and excitement, that the emperor was awaiting her with impatience. the philosopher motioned to her to follow him, but she clung, as if seeking help, to her brother, and cried: "i will not go again to caracalla! you are the kindest and best of them all, philostratus, and you will understand me. evil will come of it if i follow you--i can not go again to caesar." but it was impossible for the courtier to yield to her, in the face of his monarch's direct commands; therefore, hard as it was to him, he said, resolutely: "i well understand what holds you back; still, if you would not ruin yourself and your family, you must submit. besides which, you know not what caesar is about to offer you-fortunate, unhappy child!" "i know--oh, i know it!" sobbed melissa; "but it is just that . . . i have served the emperor willingly, but before i consent become the wife of such a monster--" "she is right," broke in euryale, and drew melissa toward her. but the philosopher took the girl's hand and said, kindly:--"you must come with me now, my child, and pretend that you know nothing of caesar's intentions toward you. it is the only way to save you. but while you are with the emperor, who, in any case, can devote but a short time to you to-day, i will return here and consult with your people. there is much to be decided, of the greatest moment, and not to you alone." melissa turned with tearful eyes to euryale, and questioned her with a look; whereupon the lady drew the girl's hand out of that of the philosopher, and saying to him, "she shall be with you directly," took her away to her own apartment. here she begged melissa to dry her eyes, and arranging the girl's hair and robe with her own hands, she promised to do all in her power to facilitate her flight. she must do her part now by going into caesar's presence as frankly as she had done yesterday and the day before. she might be quite easy; her interests were being faithfully watched over. taking a short leave of her father, who was looking very sulky because nobody seemed to care for his opinion, and of alexander, who lovingly promised her his help, she took the philosopher's hand and walked with him through one crowded apartment after another. they often had difficulty in pressing through the throng of people who were waiting for an audience, and in the antechamber, where the aurelians had had to pay so bitterly for their insolence yesterday, they were detained by the blonde and red-haired giants of the uermanian body-guard, whose leader, sabinus, a thracian of exceptional height and strength, was acquainted with the philosopher. caracalla had given orders that no one was to be admitted till the negotiations with the parthian ambassadors, which had begun an hour ago, were brought to a conclusion. philostratus well knew that the emperor would interrupt the most important business if melissa were announced, but there was much that he would have the maiden lay to heart before he led her to the monarch; while she wished for nothing so earnestly as that the door which separated her from her terrible wooer might remain closed to the end of time. when the chamberlain adventus looked out from the imperial apartments, she begged him to give her a little time before announcing her. the old man blinked consent with his dim eyes, but the philosopher took care that melissa should not be left to herself and the terrors of her heart. he employed all the eloquence at his command to make her comprehend what it meant to be an empress and the consort of the ruler of the world. in flaming colors he painted to her the good she might do in such a position, and the tears she might wipe away. then he reminded her of the healing and soothing influence she had over caracalla, and that this influence came doubtless from the gods, since it passed the bounds of nature and acted so beneficently. no one might reject such a gift from the immortals merely to gratify an ordinary passion. the youth whose love she must give up would be able to comfort himself with the thought that many others had had much worse to bear, and he would find no difficulty in getting a substitute, though not so beautiful a one. on the other hand, she was the only one among millions whose heart, obedient to a heaven-sent impulse, had turned in pity toward caracalla. if she fled, she would deprive the emperor of the only being on whose love he felt he had some claim. if she listened to the wooing of her noble lover, she would be able to tame this ungovernable being and soothe his fury, and would gain in return for a sacrifice such as many had made before her, the blissful consciousness of having rendered an inestimable service to the whole world. for by her means and her love, the imperial tyrant would be transformed into a beneficent ruler. the blessing of the thousands whom she could protect and save would make the hardest task sweet and endurable. here philostratus paused, and gazed inquiringly at her; but she only shook her head gently, and answered: "my brain is so confused that i can scarcely hear even, but i feel that your words are well meant and wise. what you put before me would certainly be worth considering if there were anything left for me to consider about. i have promised myself to another, who is more to me than all the world--more than the gratitude and blessings of endangered lives of which i know nothing. i am but a poor girl who only asks to be happy. neither gods nor men expect more of me than that i should do my duty toward those whom i love. and, then, who can say for certain that i should succeed in persuading caesar to carry out my desires, whatever they might be?" "we were witnesses of the power you exercised over him," replied the philosopher; but melissa shook her head, and continued eagerly: "no, no! he only values in me the hand that eases his pain and want of sleep. the love which he may feel for me makes him neither gentler nor better. only an hour or two before he declared that his heart was inclined to me, he had titianus murdered!" "one word from you," the philosopher assured her, "and it would never have happened. as empress, they will obey you as much as him. truly, child, it is no small thing to sit, like the gods, far above the rest of mankind." "no, no!" cried melissa, shuddering. "those heights! only to think of them makes everything spin round me. only one who is free from such giddiness dare to occupy such a place. every one must desire to do what he can do best. i could be a good housewife to diodoros, but i should be a bad empress. i was not born to greatness. and, besides--what is happiness? i only felt happy when i did what was my duty, in peace and quiet. were i empress, fear would never leave me for a moment. oh. i know enough of the hideous terror which this awful being creates around him; and before i would consent to let it torture me to death by day and by night-morning, noon, and evening--far rather would i die this very day. therefore, i have no choice. i must flee from caesar's sight--away hence--far, far, away!" tears nearly choked her voice, but she struggled bravely against them. philostratus, however, did not fail to observe it, and gazed, first mournfully into her face and then thoughtfully on the ground. at length he spoke with a slight sigh: "we gather experience in life, and yet, however old we may be, we act contrary to it. now i have to pay for it. and yet it still lies in your hands to make me bless the day on which i spoke on your behalf. could you but succeed in rising to real greatness of soul, girl--through you, i swear it, the subjects of this mighty kingdom would be saved from great tribulations!" "but, my lord," melissa broke in, "who would ask such lofty things of a lowly maiden? my mother taught me to be kind and helpful to others in the house, to my friends, and fellow-citizens; my own heart tells me to be faithful to my betrothed. but i care not greatly for the romans, and what to me are gauls, dacians, or whatever else these barbarians may be called?" "and yet," said philostratus, "you offered a sacrifice for the foreign tyrant." "because his pain excited my compassion," rejoined melissa, blushing. "and would you have done the same for any masterless black slave, covered with pitiably deep wounds?" asked the philosopher. "no," she answered, quickly; "him i would have helped with my own hand. when i can do without their aid, i do not appeal to the gods. and then-i said before, his trouble seemed doubly great because it contrasted so sharply with all the splendor and joy that surrounded him." "aye," said the philosopher, earnestly, "and a small thing that affects the ruler recoils tenfold--a thousand-fold-on his subjects. look at one tree through a cut glass with many facets, and it be comes a forest. thus the merest trifle, when it affects the emperor, becomes important for the millions over whom he rules. caracalla's vexation entails evil on thousands--his anger is death and ruin. i fear me, girl, your flight will bring down heavy misfortune on those who surround caesar, and first of all upon the alexandrians, to whom you belong, and against whom he already bears a grudge. you once said your native city was dear to you." "so it is," returned melissa, who, at his last words had grown first red and then pale; "but caesar can not surely be so narrow-minded as to punish a whole great city for what the poor daughter of a gem-cutter has done." "you are thinking of my achilles," answered the philosopher. "but i only transferred what i saw of good in caracalla to the figure of my hero. besides, you know that caesar is not himself when he is in wrath. has not experience taught me that no reasons are strong enough to convince a loving woman's heart? once more i entreat you, stay here! reject not the splendid gift which the gods offer you, that trouble may not come upon your city as it did on hapless troy, all for a woman's sake. "what says the proverb? 'zeus hearkens not to lovers' vows'; but i say that to renounce love in order to make others happy, is greater and harder than to hold fast to it when it is menaced." these words reminded her of many a lesson of andreas, and went to her heart. in her mind's eye she saw caracalla, after hearing of her flight, set his lions on philostratus, and then, foaming with rage, give orders to drag her father and brothers, polybius and his son, to the place of execution, like titianus. and philostratus perceived what was going on in her mind, and with the exhortation, "remember how many persons' weal or woe lies in your hands!" he rose and began a conversation with the thracian commander of the germanic guard. melissa remained alone upon the divan. the picture changed before her, and she saw herself in costly purple raiment, glittering with jewels, and seated by the emperor's side in a golden chariot. a thousand voices shouted to her, and beside her stood a horn of plenty, running over with golden solidi and crimson roses, and it never grew empty, however much she took from it. her heart was moved; and when, in the crowd which her lively imagination had conjured up before her, she caught sight of the wife of the blacksmith herophilus, who had been thrown into prison through an accusation from zminis, she turned to caracalla whom she still imagined seated beside her, and cried, "pardon!" and caracalla nodded a gracious consent, and the next moment herophilus's wife lay on her liberated husband's breast, while the broken fetters still clanked upon his wrists. their children were there, too, and stretched up their arms to their parents, offering their happy lips first to them and then to melissa. how beautiful it all was, and how it cheered her compassionate heart! and this, said the newly awakened, meditative spirit within her, need be no dream; no, it lay in her power to impart this happiness to herself and many others, day by day, until the end. then she felt that she must arise and cry to her friend, "i will follow your counsel and remain! "but her imagination had already begun to work again, and showed her the widow of titianus, as she entreated caesar to spare her noble, innocent husband, while he mercilessly repulsed her. and it flashed through her mind that her petitions might share the same fate, when at that moment the emperor's threatening voice sounded from the adjoining room. how hateful its strident tones were to her ear! she dropped her eyes and caught sight of a dark stain on the snow-white plumage of the doves in the mosaic pavement at her feet. that was a last trace of the blood of the young tribune, which the attendants had been unable to remove. and this indelible mark of the crime which she had witnessed brought the image of the wounded aurelius before her: just as he now lay, shaken with fever, so had she seen her lover a few days before. his pale face rose before her inward sight; would it not be to him a worse blow than that from the stone, when he should learn that she had broken her faith to him in order to gain power and greatness, and to protect others, who were strangers to her, from the fury of the tyrant? his heart had been hers from childhood's hour, and it would bleed and break if she were false to the vows in which he placed his faith. and even if he succeeded at last in recovering from the wound she must deal him, his peace and happiness would be destroyed for many a long day. how could she have doubted for a moment where her real duty lay? if she followed philostratus's advice--if she acceded to caracalla's wishes--diodoros would have every right to condemn and curse her. and could she then feel so entirely blameless? a voice within her instantly said no; for there had been moments in which her pity had grown so strong that she felt more warmly toward the sick caesar than was justifiable. she could not deny it, for she could not without a blush have described to her lover what she felt when that mysterious, inexplicable power had drawn her to the emperor. and now the conviction rapidly grew strong in her that she must not only preserve her lover from further trouble, but strive to make good to him her past errors. the idea of renouncing her love in order to intercede for others, most likely in vain, and lighten their lot by sacrificing herself for strangers, while rendering her own and her lover's life miserable, now seemed to her unnatural, criminal, impossible; and with a sigh of relief she remembered her promise to andreas. now she could once more look freely into the grave and earnest face of him who had ever guided her in the right way. this alone was right--this she would do! but after the first quick step toward philostratus, she stood still, once more hesitating. the saying about the fulfilling of the time recurred to her as she thought of the christian, and she said to herself that the critical moment which comes in every life was before her now. the weal or woe of her whole future depended on the answer she should give to philostratus. the thought struck terror to her heart, but only for a moment. then she drew herself up proudly, and, as she approached her friend, felt with joy that she had chosen the better part; yea, that it would cost her but little to lay down her life for it. though apparently absorbed in his conversation with the thracian, philostratus had not ceased to observe the girl, and his knowledge of human nature showed him quickly to what decision she had come. firmly persuaded that he had won her over to caracalla's side, he had left her to her own reflections. he was certain that the seed he had sown in her mind would take root; she could now clearly picture to herself what pleasures she would enjoy as empress, and from what she could preserve others. for she was shrewd and capable of reasoning, and above all--and from this he hoped the most--she was but a woman. but just because she was a woman he could not be surprised at her disappointing him in his expectations. for the sake of caracalla and those who surrounded him he would have wished it to be otherwise; but he had become too fond of her, and had too good a heart, not to be distressed at the thought of seeing her fettered to the unbridled young tyrant. before she could address him, he took his leave of the thracian. then, as he led her back to the divan, he whispered: "well, i have gained one more experience. the next time i leave a woman to come to a decision, i shall anticipate from the first that she will come to an opposite conclusion to that which, as a philosopher and logical thinker, i should expect of her. you are determined to keep faith with your betrothed and stab the heart of this highest of all wooers--after death he will be ranked among the gods--for such will be the effect of your flight." melissa nodded gayly, and rejoined, "the blunt weapon that i carry would surely not cost caesar his life, even if he were no future immortal." "scarcely," answered philostratus; "but what he may suffer through you will drive him to turn his own all-too-sharp sword against others. caracalla being a man, my calculations regarding him have generally proved right. you will see how firmly i believe in them in this case, when i tell you that i have already taken advantage of a letter brought by the messengers of the empress-mother to take my leave of the emperor. for, i reasoned, if melissa listens to the emperor, she will need no other confederate than the boy eros; if, however, she takes flight--then woe betide those who are within range of the tyrant's arm, and ten times woe to me who brought the fugitive before his notice! early to-morrow, before caracalla leaves his couch, i shall return with the messengers to julia; my place in the ship--" "o my lord," interrupted melissa, in consternation, "if you, my kind protector, forsake me, to whom shall i look for help?" "you will not require it if you carry out your intentions," said the philosopher. "throughout this day you will doubtless need me; and let me impress upon you once more to behave before caracalla in such a manner that even his suspicious mind may not guess what you intend to do. today you will still find me ready to help you. but, hark! that is caesar raging again. it is thus he loves to dismiss ambassadors, when he wishes they should clearly understand that their conditions are not agreeable to him. and one word more: when a man has grown gray, it is doubly soothing to his heart that a lovely maiden should so frankly regret the parting. i was ever a friend of your amiable sex, and even to this day eros is sometimes not unfavorably inclined to me. but you, the more charming you are, the more deeply do i regret that i may not be more to you than an old and friendly mentor. but pity at first kept love from speaking, and then the old truth that every woman's heart may be won save that which already belongs to another." the elderly admirer of the fair sex spoke these words in such a pleasant, regretful tone that melissa gave him an affectionate glance from her large, bright eyes, and answered, archly: "had eros shown philostratus the way to melissa instead of diodoros, philostratus might now be occupying the place in this heart which belongs to the son of polybius, and which must always be his in spite of caesar!" chapter xxi v. the door of the tablinum flew open, and through it streamed the parthian ambassadors, seven stately personages, wearing the gorgeous costume of their country, and followed by an interpreter and several scribes. melissa noticed how one of them, a young warrior with a fair beard framing his finely molded, heroic face, and thick, curling locks escaping from beneath his tiara, grasped the hilt of his sword in his sinewy hand, and how his neighbor, a cautious, elderly man, was endeavoring to calm him. scarcely had they left the antechamber than adventns called melissa and philostratus to the emperor. caracalla was seated on a raised throne of gold and ivory, with bright scarlet cushions. as on the preceding day, he was magnificently dressed, and wore a laurel wreath on his head. the lion, who lay chained beside the throne, stirred as he caught sight of the new-comers, which caused caracalla to exclaim to melissa: "you have stayed away from me so long that my 'sword of persia' fails to recognize you. were it not more to my taste to show you how dear you are to me, i could be angry with you, coy bird that you are!" as melissa bent respectfully before him, he gazed delighted into her glowing face, saying, as he turned half to her and half to philostratus: "how she blushes! she is ashamed that, though i could get no sleep during the night, and was tortured by an indescribable restlessness, she refused to obey my call, although she very well knows that the one remedy for her sleepless friend lies in her beautiful little hand. hush, hush! the high-priest has told me that you did not sleep beneath the same roof as i. but that only turned my thoughts in the right direction. child, child!--see now, philostratus--the red rose has become a white one. and how timid she is! not that it offends me, far from it--it delights me. --those flowers, philostratus! take them, melissa; they add less to your beauty than you to theirs." he seized the splendid roses he had ordered for her early that morning and fastened the finest in her girdle himself. she did not forbid him, and stammered a few-low words of thanks. how his face glowed! his eyes rested in ecstatic delight upon his chosen one. in this past night, after he had called for her and waited in vain with feverish longing for her coming, it had dawned on him with convincing force that this gentle child had awakened a new, intense passion in him. he loved her, and he was glad of it--he who till now had taken but a passing pleasure in beautiful women. longing for her till it became torture, he swore to himself to make her his, and share his all with her, even to the purple. it was not his habit to hesitate, and at daybreak he had sent for his mother's messengers that they might inform her of his resolve. no one dared to gainsay him, and he expected it least of all from her whom he designed to raise so high. but she felt utterly estranged from him, and would gladly have told him to his face what she felt. still, it was absolutely necessary that she should restrain herself and endure his insufferable endearments, and even force herself to speak. and yet her tongue seemed tied, and it was only by the utmost effort of her will that she could bring herself to express her astonishment at his rapid return to health. "it is like magic," she concluded, and he heartily agreed. attacks of that kind generally left their effects for four days or more. but the most astonishing thing was that in spite of being in the best of health, he was suffering from the gravest illness in the world. "i have fallen a victim to the fever of love, my philostratus," he cried, with a tender glance at melissa. "nay, caesar," interrupted the philosopher, "love is not a disease, but rather not loving." "prove this new assertion," laughed the emperor; and the philosopher rejoined, with a meaning look at the maiden, "if love is born in the eyes, then those who do not love are blind." "but," answered caracalla, gayly, "they say that love comes not only from what delights the eye, but the soul and the mind as well." "and have not the mind and the spirit eyes also?" was the reply, to which the emperor heartily assented. then he turned to melissa, and asked with gentle reproach why she, who had proved herself so ready of wit yesterday, should be so reserved today; but she excused her taciturnity on the score of the violent emotions that had stormed in upon her since the morning. her voice broke at the end of this explanation, and caracalla, concluding that it was the thought of the grandeur that awaited her through his favor which confused her and brought the delicate color to her cheeks, seized her hand, and, obedient to an impulse of his better nature, said: "i understand you, child. things are befalling you that would make a stouter heart tremble. you have only heard hints of what must effect such a decisive change in your future life. you know how i feel toward you. i acknowledged to you yesterday what you already knew without words. we both feel the mysterious power that draws us to one another. we belong to each other. in the future, neither time nor space nor any other thing may part us. where i am there you must be also. you shall be my equal in every respect. every honor paid to me shall be offered to you likewise. i have shown the malcontents what they have to expect. the fate which awaits the consul claudius vindex and his nephew, who by their want of respect to you offended me, will teach the others to have a care." "o my lord, that aged man!" cried melissa, clasping her hands, imploringly. "he shall die, and his nephew," was the inexorable answer. "during my conference with my mother's messengers they had the presumption to raise objections against you and the ardent desire of my heart in a manner which came very near to being treason. and they must suffer for it." "you would punish them for my sake?" exclaimed melissa. "but i forgive them willingly. grant them pardon! i beg, i entreat you." "impossible! unless i make an example, it will be long before the slanderous tongues would hold their peace. their sentence stands." but melissa would not be appeased. with passionate eagerness she entreated the emperor to grant a pardon, but he cut her short with the request not to interfere in matters which he alone had to decide and answer for. "i owe it to you as well as to myself," he continued, "to remove every obstacle from the path. were i to spare vindex, they would never again believe in my strength of purpose. he shall die, and his nephew with him! to raise a structure without first securing a solid foundation would be an act of rashness and folly. besides, i undertake nothing without consulting the omens. the horoscope which the priest of this temple has drawn up for you only confirms me in my purpose. the examination of the sacrifices this morning was favorable. it now only remains to be seen what the stars say to my resolve. i had not yet taken it when i last questioned the fortune-tellers of the sky. this night we shall learn what future the planets promise to our union. from the signs on yonder tablet it is scarcely possible that their answer should be otherwise than favorable. but even should they warn me of misfortune at your side, i could not let you go now. it is too late for that. i should merely take advantage of the warning, and continue with redoubled severity to sweep away every obstacle that threatens our union. and one thing more--" but he did not finish, for epagathos here reminded him of the deputation of alexandrian citizens who had come to speak about the games in the circus. they had been waiting several hours, and had still many arrangements to make. "did they send you to me?" inquired caracalla, with irritation, and the freedman answering in the affirmative, he cried: "the princes who wait in my antechamber do not stir until their turn comes. these tradesmen's senses are confused by the dazzle of their gold! tell them they shall be called when we find time to attend to them." "the head of the night-watch too is waiting," said the freedman; and to the emperor's question whether he had seen him, and if he had anything of consequence to report, the other replied that the man was much disquieted, but seemed to be exercising proper severity. he ventured to remind his master of the saying that the alexandrians must have 'panem et circenses'; they did not trouble themselves much about anything else. in these days, when there had been neither games, nor pageants, nor distribution of corn, the romans and caesar had been their sole subjects of conversation. however, there was to be something quite unusually grand in the circus to-night. that would distract the attention of the impudent slanderers. the night-watchman greatly desired to speak to the emperor himself, to prepare him for the fact that excitement ran higher in the circus here than even in rome. in spite of every precaution, he would not be able to keep the rabble in the upper rows quiet. "nor need they be," broke in the emperor; "the louder they shout the better; and i fancy they will see things which will be worth shouting for. i have no time to see the man. let him thoroughly realize that he is answerable for any real breach of order." he signed to epagathos to retire, but melissa went nearer to caesar and begged him gently not to let the worthy citizens wait any longer on her account. at this caracalla frowned ominously, and cried: "for the second time, let me ask you not to interfere in matters that do not concern you! if any one dares to order me--" here he stopped short, for, as melissa drew back from him frightened, he was conscious of having betrayed that even love was not strong enough to make him control himself. he was angry with himself, and with a great effort he went on, more quietly: "when i give an order, my child, there often lies much behind it of which i alone know. those who force themselves upon caesar, as these citizens do, must learn to have patience. and you--if you would fill the position to which i intend to raise you--must first take care to leave all paltry considerations and doubts behind you. however, all that will come of itself. softness and mercy melt on the throne like ice before the sun. you will soon learn to scorn this tribe of beggars who come whining round us. if i flew in a passion just now, it was partly your fault. i had a right to expect that you would be more eager to hear me out than to shorten the time of waiting for these miserable merchants." with this his voice grew rough again, but as she raised her eyes to him and cried beseechingly, "o, my lord!" he continued, more gently: "there was not much more to be said. you shall be mine. should the stars confirm their first revelations, i shall raise you to-morrow to my side, here in the city of alexandria, and make the people do homage to you as their empress. the priest of alexandria is ready to conduct the marriage ceremonial. philostratus will inform my mother of my determination." melissa had listened to these arrangements with growing distress; her breath came fast, and she was incapable of uttering a word; but caesar was delighted at the lovely confusion painted on her features, and cried, in joyful excitement: "how i have looked forward to this moment--and i have succeeded in surprising her! this is what makes imperial power divine; by one wave of the hand it can raise the lowest to the highest place!" with this he drew melissa toward him, kissed the trembling girl upon the brow, and continued, in delighted tones: "time does not stand still, and only a few hours separate us from the accomplishment of our desires. let us lend them wings. we resolved yesterday to show one another what we could do as singers and luteplayers. there lies my lyre--give it me, philostratus. i know what i shall begin with." the philosopher brought and tuned the instrument; but melissa had some difficulty in keeping back her tears. caracalla's kiss burned like a brand of infamy on her brow. a nameless, torturing restlessness had come over her, and she wished she could dash the lyre to the ground, when caracalla began to play, and called out to philostratus: "as you are leaving us to-morrow, i will sing the song which you honored with a place in your heroic tale." he turned to melissa, and, as she owned to having read the work of the philosopher, he went on "you know, then, that i was the model for his achilles. the departed spirit of the hero is enjoying in the island of leuke, in the pontus, the rest which he so richly deserves, after a life full of heroic deeds. now he finds time to sing to the lyre, and philostratus put the following verses--but they are mine--into his mouth.--i am about to play, adventus! open the door!" the freedman obeyed, and the emperor peered into the antechamber to see for himself who was waiting there. he required an audience when he sang. the circus had accustomed him to louder applause than his beloved and one skilled musician could award him. at last he swept the strings, and began singing in a well-trained tenor, whose sharp, hard quality, however, offended the girl's critical ear, the song to the echo on the shores of pontus: echo, by the rolling waters bathing pontus' rocky shore, wake, and answer to the lyre swept by my inspired hand! wake, and raise thy voice in numbers sing to homer, to the bard who has given life immortal to the heroes of his lay. he it was from death who snatched me; he who gave patroclus life; rescued, in perennial glory, godlike ajax from the dead! his the lute to whose sweet accents, ilion owes undying fame, and the triumph and the praises which surround her deathless name. the "sword of persia" seemed peculiarly affected by his master's song, which he accompanied by a long-drawn howl of woe; and, before the imperial virtuoso had concluded, a discordant cry sounded for a short time from the street, in imitation of the squeaking of young pigs. it arose from the crowd who were waiting round the serapeum to see caesar drive to the circus; and caracalla must have noticed it, for, when it waxed louder, he gave a sidelong glance toward the place from which it came, and an ominous frown gathered upon his brow. but it soon vanished, for scarcely had he finished when stormy shouts of applause rose from the antechamber. they proceeded from the friends of caesar, and the deep voices of the germanic bodyguard, who, joining in with the cries they had learned in the circus, lent such impetuous force to the applause, as even to satisfy this artist in the purple. therefore, when philostratus spoke words of praise, and melissa thanked him with a blush, he answered with a smile: "there is something frank and untrammeled in their manner of expressing their feelings outside. forced applause sounds differently. there must be something in my singing that carries the hearers away. my alexandrian hosts, however, are overready to show me what they think. it did not escape me, and i shall add it to the rest." then he invited melissa to make a return for his song by singing sappho's ode to aphrodite. pale, and as if obeying some strange compulsion, she seated herself at the instrument, and the prelude sounded clear and tuneful from her skillful fingers. "beautiful! worthy of mesomedes!" cried caracalla, but melissa could not sing, for at the first note her voice was broken by stormy sobs. "the power of the goddess whom she meant to extol!" said philostratus, pointing to her; and the tearful, beseeching look with which she met the emperor's gaze while she begged him in low tones--"not now! i can not do it to-day!"--confirmed caracalla in his opinion that the passion he had awakened in the maiden was in no way inferior to his own-perhaps even greater. he relieved his full heart by whispering to melissa a passionate, "i love you," and, desiring to show her by a favor how kindly he felt toward her, added: "i will not let your fellow-citizens wait outside any longer--adventus! the deputation from the circus!" the chamberlain withdrew at once, and the emperor throwing himself back on the throne, continued, with a sigh: "i wonder how any of these rich tradesmen would like to undertake what i have already gone through this day. first, the bath; then, while i rested, macrinus's report; after that, the inspection of the sacrifices; then a review of the troops, with a gracious word to every one. scarcely returned, i had to receive the ambassadors from my mother, and then came the troublesome affair with vindex. then the dispatches from rome arrived, the letters to be examined, and each one to be decided on and signed. finally the settling of accounts with the idiologos, who, as high-priest of my choosing, has to collect the tribute from all the temples in egypt. . . . next i gave audience to several people--to your father among the rest. he is strange, but a thorough man, and a true macedonian of the old stock. he repelled both greeting and presents, but he longed to be revenged--heavily and bloodily--on zminis, who denounced him and brought him to the galleys. . . . how the old fellow must have raged and stormed when he was a prisoner! i treated the droll old gray-beard like my father. the giant pleases me, and what skillful fingers he has on his powerful hands! he gave me that ring with the portraits of castor and pollux." "my brothers were the models," remarked melissa, glad to find something to say without dissembling. caracalla examined the stone in the gold ring more closely, and exclaimed in admiration: "how delicate the little heads are! at the first glance one recognizes the hand of the happily gifted artist. your father's is one of the noblest and most refined of the arts. if i can raise a statue to a lute-player, i can do so to a gem-cutter." here the deputation for the arrangement of the festival was announced, but the emperor, calling out once more, "let them wait," continued: "you are a handsome race--the men powerful, the women as lovely as aphrodite. that is as it should be! my father before me took the wisest and fairest woman to wife. you are the fairest--the wisest?--well, that too, perhaps. time will show. but aphrodite never has a high forehead, and, according to philostratus, beauty and wisdom are hostile sisters with you women." "exceptions," interposed the philosopher, as he pointed to melissa, "prove the rule." "describe her in that manner to my mother," said caracalla. "i would not let you go from me, were you not the only person who knows melissa. i may trust in your eloquence to represent her as she deserves. and now," he continued, hurriedly, "one thing more. as soon as the deputation is dismissed and i have received a few other persons, the feast is to begin. you would perhaps be entertained at it. however, it will be better to introduce you to my 'friends' after the marriage ceremony. after dark, to make up for it, there is the circus, to which you will, of course, accompany me." "oh, my lord!" exclaimed the maiden, frightened and unwilling. but caracalla cried, decisively: "no refusal, i must beg! i imagine that i have proved sufficiently that i know how to shield you from what is not fitting for a maiden. what i ask of you now is but the first step on the new path of honor that awaits you as future empress." melissa raised both voice and hands in entreaty, but in vain. caracalla cut her short, saying in authoritative tones: "i have arranged everything. you will go to the circus. not alone with me-that would give welcome work to scandalous tongues. your father shall accompany you--your brothers, too, if you wish it. i shall not join you till after the performance has begun. your fellow-citizens will divine the meaning of this visit. besides, theocritus and the rest have orders to acquaint the people with the distinction that awaits you and the alexandrians. but why so pale? your cheeks will regain their color in the circus. i know i am right--you will leave it delighted and enthralled. you have only to learn for the first time how the acclamations of tens of thousands take hold upon the heart and intoxicate the senses. courage, courage, macedonian maiden! everything grand and unexpected, even unforeseen happiness, is alarming and bewildering. but we become accustomed even to the impossible. a strong spirit like yours soon gets over anything of the kind. but the time is running on. one word more: you must be in the circus by sunset. in any case, you must be in your place before i come. adventus will see that you have a chariot or a litter, whichever you please. theocritus will be waiting at the entrance to lead you to your seats." melissa could restrain herself no longer, and, carried away by the wild conflict of passions in her breast, she threw control and prudence to the winds, and cried: "i will not!" then throwing back her head as if to call the heavens to witness, she raised her great, wide-open eyes and gazed above. but not for long. her bold defiance had roused caesar's utmost fury, and he broke out with a growl of rage: "you will not, you say? and you think, unreasoning fool, that this settles the matter?" he uttered a wild laugh, pressed his hand firmly on his left eyelid, which began to twitch convulsively, and went on in a lower but defiantly contemptuous tone: "i know better! you shall! and you will not only go to the circus, but you will do it willingly, or at least with smiling lips. you will start at sunset! at the time appointed i shall find you in your place. if not!--must i begin so soon to teach you that i can be serious? have a care, girl! you are dear to me; yet--by the head of my father!--if you defy me, my numidian lion-keepers shall drag you to the place you belong to!" thus far melissa had listened to the emperor's raging with panting bosom and quivering nostrils, as at a performance, which must sooner or later come to an end; and now she broke in regardless of the consequences: "send for them," she cried, "and order them to throw me to the wild beasts! it will doubtless be a welcome surprise to the lookers-on. which of them can say they have ever seen the daughter of a free roman citizen who never yet came before the law, torn to pieces in the sand of the arena? they delight in anything new! yes, murder me, as you did plautilla, although i never offended either you or your mother! better die a hundred deaths than parade my dishonor before the eyes of the multitude in the open circus!" she ceased, incapable of further resistance, threw herself weeping on the divan, and buried her face in the cushions. confounded and bewildered by such audacity, the emperor had heard her out. the soul of a hero dwelt in the frail body of this maiden! majestic as all-conquering venus she had resisted him for the second tune, and now how touching did she appear in her tears and weakness! he loved her, and his heart yearned to raise her in his arms, to beg her forgiveness, and fulfill her every wish. but he was a man and a monarch, and his desire to show melissa to the people in the circus as his chosen bride had become a fixed resolve during the past sleepless night. and indeed he was incapable of renouncing any wish or a plan, even if he felt inclined to do so. yet he heartily regretted having stormed at the gentle greek girl like some wild barbarian, and thus himself thrown obstacles in the way of attaining his desire. his hot blood had carried him away again. surely some demon led him so often into excesses which he afterward repented of. this time the fiend had been strong in him, and he must use every gentle persuasion he knew of to bend the deeply offended maiden to his will. he was relieved not to meet her intense gaze as he advanced toward her and took philostratus's place, who whispered to her to control herself and not bring death and ruin upon them all. "i truly i meant well toward you, dearest," he began, in altered tones. "but we are both like overfull vessels--one drop will make them overflow. you--confess now that you forgot yourself. and i--on the throne we grow unaccustomed to opposition. it is fortunate that the flame of my anger dies out so quickly. but it lies with you to prevent it from ever breaking out; for i should always endeavor to fulfill a kindly expressed wish, if it were possible. this time, however, i must insist--" melissa turned toward the emperor, and stretching out beseeching hands, she cried: "bid me do anything, however hard, and it shall be done, but do not force me to go with you to the circus. if my mother were only alive! wherever i could go with her was right. but my father, not to speak of my madcap brother alexander, do not know what befits a maiden, nor does anybody expect it of them." "and rightly," interposed caracalla. "now i understand your opposition, and thank you for it. but it fortunately lies in my power to remove your objection. the women have to obey me, too. i shall at once issue the necessary orders. you shall appear in the circus surrounded by the noblest matrons of the city. the wives of these citizens shall accompany you. even my mother will be sure to approve of this arrangement. farewell, then, till we meet again in the circus!" he spoke the last words with proud satisfaction, and with the grave demeanor that cilo had taught him to adopt in the curia. he then gave the order to admit the alexandrian citizens, and the words of entreaty died upon the lips of the unfortunate imperial bride, for the folding doors were thrown open and the deputation advanced through them. old adventus signed to melissa, and with drooping head she followed him through the rooms and corridors that led to the apartments of the highpriest. chapter xxv. melissa had wept her fill on the breast of the lady euryale, who listened to her woes with motherly sympathy, and yet she felt as if a biting frost had broken and destroyed the blossoms which only yesterday had so richly and hopefully decked her young heart. diodoros's love had been to her like the fair and sunny summer days that turn the sour, hard fruit into sweet and juicy grapes. and now the frost had nipped them. the whole future, and everything round her, now looked gray, colorless, and flat. only two thoughts held possession of her mind: on the one hand, that of her betrothed, from whom this visit to the circus threatened to separate her forever; and on the other, that of her imperial lover, to escape whom she would have flown anywhere, even to the grave. euryale remarked with concern how weary and broken melissa looked--so different from her usual bright self, while she listened to her father and alexander as they consulted with the lady as to the future. philostratus, who had promised his advice, did not appear; and to the gem-cutter, no proposal could seem so unwelcome as that of leaving his native city and his sick favorite, philip. he considered it senseless, and a result of the thoroughly wrong-headed views of sentimental women, to reject the monarch of the world when he made honorable proposals to an unpretending girl. but the lady euryale --of whom his late wife had always spoken with the highest respect--and, supported by her, his son alexander, had both represented to him so forcibly that a union with the emperor would render melissa most unhappy, if it did not lead to death, that he had been reduced to silence. only, when they spoke of the necessity of flight, he burst out again, declaring that the time had not yet come for such extreme measures. when melissa now rejoined them, he spoke of the emperor's behavior toward her as being worthy of a man of honor, and endeavored to touch her heart by representing what an old man must feel who should be forced to leave the house where his father and grandfather had lived before him, and even the town whose earth held all that was dearest to him. here the tears which so easily rose to his eyes began to flow, and, seeing that melissa's tender heart was moved by his sorrow, he gained confidence, and reproached his daughter for having kindled caracalla's love, by her radiant eyes--so like her mother's! honestly believing that his affection was returned, caesar was offering her the highest honor in his power; if she fled from him, he would have every right to complain of having been basely deceived, and to call her a heartless wanton. alexander now came to his sister's aid, and reminded him how melissa had hazarded life and liberty to save him and her brothers. she had been forced to look so kindly into the tyrant's face if only to sue for their pardon, and it became him ill to make this a reproach to his daughter. melissa nodded gratefully to her brother, but heron remained firm in his assertion that to think of flight would be foolish, or at least premature. at this, alexander repeated to him that melissa had whispered in his ear that she would rather die at once than live in splendor, but in perpetual fear, by the side of an unloved husband; whereupon heron began to breathe hard, as he always did before an outburst of anger. but a message, calling him to the emperor's presence, soon calmed him. at parting, he kissed melissa, and murmured "would you really drive your old father out of our dear home, away from his work, and his birds--from his garden, and your mother's grave? is it then so terrible to live as empress, in splendor and honor? i am going to caesar--you can not hinder me from greeting him kindly from you?" without waiting for an answer, he left the room; but when he was outside he took care to glance at himself in the mirror, arrange his beard and hair, and place his gigantic form in a few of the dignified attitudes he intended to adopt in the presence of the emperor. meanwhile melissa had thrown off the indifference into which she had fallen, and her old doubts raised their warning heads with renewed force. alexander swore to be her faithful ally; euryale once more assured her of her assistance; and yet, more especially when she was moved with pity for her father, who was to leave all he loved for her sake, she felt as if she were being driven hither and thither, in some frail bark, at the mercy of the waves. suddenly a new idea flashed through her mind. she rose quickly. "i will go to diodoros," she cried, "and tell him all! he shall decide." "just now?" asked euryale, startled. "you would certainly not find your betrothed alone, and since all the world knows of caracalla's intentions, and gazes curiously after you, your visit would instantly be reported to caesar. nor is it advisable for you to present yourself before your offended lover, when you have neither andreas nor any one else to speak for you and take your part." melissa burst into tears, but the matron drew her to her and continued tenderly: "you must give that up--but, alexander, do you go to your friend, and be your sister's mouthpiece!" the artist consented with all the ardor of brotherly affection, and having received from melissa, whose courage began to rise again, strict injunctions as to what he was to say to her lover, he departed on his errand. wholly absorbed by the stormy emotions of her heart, the maiden had forgotten time and every external consideration; but the lady euryale was thoughtful for her, and now led her to her chamber to have her hair dressed for the circus. the matron carefully avoided, for the present, all mention of her young friend's flight, though her mind was constantly occupied with it--and not in vain. the skillful waiting-woman, whom she had bought from the house of the priest of alexander, who was a roman knight, loosened the girl's abundant brown hair, and, with loud cries of admiration, declared it would be easy to dress such locks in the most approved style of fashion. she then laid the curling-irons on the dish of coals which stood on a slender tripod, and was about to twist it into ringlets; but melissa, who had never resorted to such arts, refused to permit it. the slave assured her, however, as earnestly as if it were a matter of the highest importance, that it was impossible to arrange the curls of a lady of distinction without the irons. euryale, too, begged melissa to allow it, as nothing would make her so conspicuous in her overdressed surroundings as excessive simplicity. that was quite true, but it made the girl realize so vividly what was before her, that she covered her face with her hands and sobbed out: "to be exposed to the gaze of the whole city--to its envy and its scorn!" the matron's warning inquiry, what had become of her favorite's highminded calm, and her advice to restrain her weeping, lest she should appear before the public in the amphitheater with tear-stained eyes, helped her to compose herself. the tire-woman had not finished her work when alexander returned, and melissa dared not turn her head for fear of disturbing her in her task. but when alexander began his report with the exclamation, "who knows what foolish gossip has driven him to this?" she sprang up, regardless of the slave's warning cry. and as her brother went on to relate how diodoros had left the serapeum, in spite of the physician's entreaty to wait at least until next morning, but that melissa need not take it greatly to heart, it was too much for the girl who had already that day gone through such severe and varied experiences. the ground seemed to heave beneath her feet; sick and giddy she put out her hand to find some support, that she might not sink on her knees; in so doing, she caught the tall tripod which held the dish of coals. it swayed and fell clattering to the ground, bringing the irons with it. its burning contents fell partly on the floor and partly on the festal robe which melissa had thrown over a chair before loosening her hair. alexander caught her just in time to prevent her falling. with her healthy nature, melissa soon regained consciousness, and during the first few moments her distress over the spoiled garment threw every other thought into the background. shaking her head gravely over the black-edged holes which the coals had burned in the peplos and the underrobes, euryale secretly rejoiced at the accident. she remembered that when her heart was torn and bleeding, after the death of her only child, her thoughts were taken off herself by the necessary duty of providing mourning garments for herself, her husband, and the slaves. this trivial task had at least helped her to forget for a few hours the bitterness of her grief. only anxious to lighten in some sort the fate of the sweet young creature whom she had learned to love, she made much of the difficulty of procuring a fresh dress for melissa, though she was perfectly aware that her sister-in-law possessed many such. alexander was commissioned to take one of the emperor's chariots--which always stood ready for the use of the courtiers between the serapeum and the springs on the east--and to hasten to the lady berenike. the lady begged that he, as an artist, would assist in choosing the robe; and the less conspicuous and costly it was the better. to this melissa heartily agreed, and, after alexander had gone, euryale bore off her pale young charge to the eating-room, where she forced her to take some old wine and a little food, which she would not touch before. as the attendant filled the wine-cup, the high-priest himself joined them, greeted melissa briefly and with measured courtesy, and begged his wife to follow him for a moment into the tablinum. the attendant, a slave who had grown gray in the service of timotheus, now begged the young guest, as though he represented his mistress, to take a little food, and not to sip so timidly from the winecup. but the lonely repast was soon ended, and melissa, strengthened and refreshed, withdrew to the sleeping-apartment. only light curtains hung at the doors of the high-priest's hurriedly furnished rooms, and no one noticed melissa's entrance into the adjoining chamber. she had never played the eavesdropper, but she had neither the presence of mind to withdraw, nor could she avoid hearing that her own name was mentioned. it was the lady who spoke, and her husband answered in excited tones: "as to your christianity, and whatever there may be in it that is offensive to me as high-priest of a heathen god, we will speak of that later. it is not a question now of a difference of opinion, but of a serious danger, which you with your easily-moved heart will bring down upon yourself and me. the gem-cutter's daughter is a lovely creature-i will not deny it--and worthy of your sympathy; besides which, you, as a woman, can not bear to see her most sacred feelings wounded." "and would you let your hands he idle in your lap," interposed his wife, "if you saw a lovable, innocent child on the edge of a precipice, and felt yourself strong enough to save her from falling? you can not have asked yourself what would be the fate of a girl like melissa if she were caracalla's wife." "indeed i have," timotheus assured her gravely, "and nothing would please me better than that the maiden should succeed in escaping that fate. but --the time is short, and i must be brief--the emperor is our guest, and honors me with boundless confidence. just now he disclosed to me his determination to make melissa his wife, and i was forced to approve it. thus he looks to me to carry out his wishes; and if the maiden escapes, and there falls on you, or, through you, on me, the shadow of a suspicion of having assisted in her flight, he will have every right to regard me as a traitor and to treat me as such. to others my life is made sacred by my high office, but the man to whom a human life--no matter whose--is no more than that of a sacrificial animal is to you or me, that man would shed the blood of us both without a quiver of the eyelid." "then let him!" cried euryale, hotly. "my bereaved and worn-out life is but a small price to pay for that of an innocent, blameless creature, glowing with youth and all the happiness of requited love, and with a right to the highest joys that life can offer." "and i?" exclaimed timotheus, angrily. "what am i to you since the death of our child? for the sake of the first person that came to you as a poor substitute for our lost daughter, you are ready to go to your death, and to drag me with you into the gloom of hades. there speaks the christian! even that gentle philosopher on the throne, marcus aurelius, was disgusted at your fellow-believers' hideous mania for death. the christian expects in the next world all that is denied to him in this. but we think of this life, in which the deity has placed us. to me life is the highest blessing, and yours is dearer to me than my own. therefore i say, firmly and decidedly: melissa must not make her escape from this house. if she is determined to fly this night, let her do so--i shall not hinder her. if your counsel is of service to her, i am glad; but she must not enter this house again after the performance in the circus, unless she be firmly resolved to become caesar's wife. if she can not bring herself to this, the apartments which belong to us must be closed against her, as against a dangerous foe." "and whither can she go?" asked euryale, sadly and with tearful eyes, for there was no gainsaying so definite an order from her lord and master. "the moment she is missed, they will search her father's house; and, if she takes advantage of berenike's ship, it will soon be discovered that it was your brother's wife who helped her to escape from caracalla." "berenike will know what to do," answered timotheus, composedly. "she, if any one, knows how to take care of herself. she has the protection of her influential brother-in-law, coeranus; and just now there is nothing she would not do to strike a blow at her hated enemy." "how sorrow and revenge have worked upon that strange woman!" exclaimed the lady, sadly. "caracalla has injured her, it is true--" "he has, and to-day he has added a further, deeper insult, for he forces her to appear in the amphitheater, with the wives of the other citizens who bear the cost of this performance. i was there, and heard him say to seleukus, who was acting as spokesman, that he counted on seeing his wife, of whom he had heard so much, in her appointed place this evening. "this will add fuel to the fire of her hatred. if she only does not allow her anger to carry her away, and to show it in a manner that she will afterward regret!--but my time is short. i have to walk before the sacred images in full ceremonial vestments, and accompanied by the priest of alexander. you, unfortunately, take no pleasure in such spectacles. once more, then--if the girl is determined to fly, she must not return here. i repeat, if any one can help her to get away, it is berenike. our sister-in-law must take the consequences. caesar can not accuse her of treason, at any rate, and her interference in the matter will clear us of all suspicion of complicity." no word of this conversation had escaped melissa. she learned nothing new from it, but it affected her deeply. warm-hearted as she was, she fully realized the debt of gratitude she owed to the lady euryale; and she could not blame the high-priest, whom prudence certainly compelled to close his doors against her. and yet she was wounded by his words. she had struggled so hard in these last days to banish all thought of her own happiness, and shield her dear ones from harm, that such selfishness appeared doubly cruel to her. did it not seem as if this priest of the great deity to whom she had been taught to pray, cared little what became of his nearest relatives, so long as he and his wife were unmolested? that was the opposite of what andreas had praised as the highest duty, the last time she had walked with him to the ferry; and since then johanna had told her the story of christ's sufferings, and she understood the fervor with which the freedman had spoken of the crucified son of god--the great example of all unselfishness. in the enthusiasm of her warm young heart she felt that what she had heard of the christians' teacher was beautiful, and that she too would not find it hard to die for those she loved. with drooping head euryale re-entered the room, and gazed with kind, anxious eyes into the girl's face, as if asking her forgiveness. following the impulse of her candid heart, melissa threw her fair young arms round the aged lady, and, to her great surprise, after kissing her warmly on brow and mouth and eyes, cried in tones of tender entreaty: "forgive me. i did not want to listen, and yet i could not choose but hear. no word of your discourse escaped me. i know now that i must not fly, and that i must bear whatever fate the gods may send me. i used often to say to myself, 'of how little importance is my life or my happiness!' and now that i must give up my lover, come what may i care not what the future has in store for me. i can never forget diodoros; and, when i think that everything is at an end between us, it is as if my heart were torn in pieces. but i have found out, in these last days, what heavy troubles one may bear without breaking down. if my flight is to bring danger, if not death and ruin, upon so many good people, i had better stay. the man who lusts after me--it is true, when i think of his embrace my blood runs cold! but perhaps i shall be able to endure even that. and then--if i crush my heart into silence, and renounce diodoros forever, and give myself up to caesar--as i must--tell me you will not then close your doors against me, but that i may stay with you till the horrid hour comes when caracalla calls me?" the matron had listened with deep emotion to melissa's victory over her desires and her aversions. this heathen maiden, brought up in the right way by a good mother, and to whom life had taught many a hard lesson, was she not already treading in the footsteps of the saviour? this child was offering up the great and pure love of her heart to preserve others from sorrow and danger; and what a different course of action was she herself to pursue in obedience to her husband's orders--her husband, whose duty it was to offer a shining example to the whole heathen world! she thought of abraham's sacrifice, and wondered if the lord might not perhaps be satisfied with melissa's willingness to lay her love upon the altar. in any case, whatever she, euryale, could do to save her from the worst fate that could befall a woman, that should be done, and this time it was she who drew the other toward her and kissed her. her heart was full to overflowing, and yet she did not forget to warn melissa to be careful, when she was about to lay her head with its artificially arranged curls upon the lady's breast. "no, no," she said, tenderly warding off the maiden's embrace. then, laying her hands on the girl's shoulders, she looked her straight in the face, and continued: "here you will ever find a resting-place. when your hair lies smoothly round your sweet face, as it did yesterday, then lay it on my breast as often as you will. aye, and it can and shall be here in the serapeum; though not in these rooms, which my lord and master closes against you. i told you of the time being fulfilled for each one of us, and when yours came you proved yourself to be the good tree of which our lord speaks as bearing good fruit. you look at me inquiringly; how indeed should you understand the words of a christian? but i shall find time enough in the next few days to explain them to you; for--i say it again--you shall remain near me while the emperor searches the city and half the world over for you. keep that firmly in your mind and let it help to give you courage in the circus." "but my father?" cried melissa, pointing to the curtain, through which heron's loud voice now became audible. "depend on me," whispered the lady, hurriedly; "and rest assured that he will be warned in time. do not betray my promise. if we were to take him into our confidence now, he would spoil all. as soon as he is gone, and your brother has returned, you two shall hear--" they were interrupted by the steward, who, with a peculiar smile upon his clean-shaven lips, came to announce heron's visit. the communicative gem-cutter had already confided to the servant what it was that agitated him so greatly, but melissa was astonished at the change in her father's manner. the shuffling gait of the gigantic, unwieldy man, who had grown gray stooping over his work, had gained a certain majestic dignity. his cheeks glowed, and the gray eyes, which had long since acquired a fixed look from straining over the gemcutting, now beamed with a blissful radiance. something wonderful must have happened to him, and, without waiting to be questioned by the lady, he poured out to her the news that he would have been overjoyed to have shouted in the market-place for all to hear. the reception accorded to him at caesar's table, he declared, had been flattering beyond all words. the godlike monarch had treated him more considerately, nay, sometimes with more reverence, than his own sons. the best dishes had been put before him, and caracalla had asked all sorts of questions about his future consort, and, on hearing that melissa had sent him greetings, he had raised himself and drunk to him as if he were a friend. his table-companions, too, had treated heron with every distinction. immediately on his arrival the monarch had desired them to honor him as the father of the future empress. they had all agreed with him in demanding that zminis the egyptian should be punished with death, and had even encouraged him to give the reins to his righteous anger. he, if any one, was in the habit of being moderate in all things, if only as a good example to his sons; and he had proved in many a dionysiac feast that the god could not easily overpower him. the amount of wine he had drunk to-day would generally have had no more effect upon him than water, and yet he had felt now and then as if he were drunken, and the whole festal hall turned round with him. even now he would be quite incapable of walking forward in a given straight line. with the exclamation, "such is life!--a few hours ago on the rowingbench, and fighting with the brander of the galleys for trying to brand me with the slave-mark, and now one of the greatest among the great!" he closed his tale, for a glance through the window showed him that time pressed. with strange bashfulness he then gazed at a ring upon his right hand, and said hesitatingly that his own modesty made the avowal difficult to him; but the fact was, he was not the same man as when he last left the ladies. by the grace of the emperor he had been made a praetorian. caesar had at first wanted to make him a knight; but he esteemed his macedonian descent higher than that class, to which too many freed slaves belonged for his taste. this he had frankly acknowledged, and the emperor must have considered his objections valid, for he immediately spoke a few words to the prefect macrinus, and then told the others to greet him as senator with the rank of praetorian. then indeed he felt as if the seat beneath him were transformed into a wild steed carrying him away, through sea and sky-wherever it pleased. he had had to hold tightly to the arm of the couch, and only remembered that some one--who it was he did not know--had whispered to him to thank caesar. "this," continued the gem-cutter, "restored me so far to myself that i could express my gratitude to your future husband, my child. i am only the second egyptian who has entered the senate. coeranus was the only one before me. what favor! and how can i describe what followed? all the distinguished members of the senate and the past consuls offered me a brotherly embrace as their new colleague. when caesar commanded me to appear at your side in the circus, wearing the white toga with the broad purple stripe, and i remarked that the shops of the better clothessellers would be shut by this time on account of the performance, and that such a toga was not to be obtained, there was a great laugh over the alexandrian love of amusement. from all sides they offered me what i required; but i gave the preference to theocritus, on account of his height. what is long enough for him will not be too short for me.--and now one of the emperor's chariots is waiting for me. if only alexander were at home! the house ought to have been illuminated and hung with garlands for my arrival, and a crowd of slaves waiting to kiss my hands. "there will soon be more than our two. i hope argutis may understand how to fasten on the shoes with the straps and the crescent! philip knows even less of these things than i do myself, besides which the poor boy is laid low. it is lucky that i remembered him. i had very nearly forgotten his existence. ah!--if your mother were still alive! she had clever-fingers! she--ah, lady euryale, melissa has perhaps told you about her. olympias she was called, like the mother of the great alexander, and, like her, she bore good children. you yourself were praising my boys just now. and the girl! . . only a few days ago, it was a pretty, shy thing that no one would ever have expected to do anything great; and now, what have we not to thank that gentle child for? the little one was always her mother's darling. eternal gods! i dare not think of it! if only she who is gone might have had the joy of hearing me called senator and praetor! o child! if she could have sat with us to-day in the emperor's seats, and we two could have seen you there--you, our pride, honored by the whole city, caesar's future bride." here the strong man with the soft heart broke down, and, clasping his hands over his face, sobbed aloud, while melissa clung to him and stroked his bearded cheeks. under her loving words of consolation he soon regained his composure, and, still struggling against the rising tears, he cried: "thank heaven, there can be no more foolish talk of flight! i shall stay here; i shall never take advantage of the ivory chair that belongs to me in the curia in rome. your husband, my child, and the state, would scarcely expect it of me. if, however, caesar presents me as his father, with estates and treasures, my first thought shall be to raise a monument to your mother. you shall see! a monument, i tell you, without a rival. it shall represent the strength of man submissive to womanly charm." he bent down to kiss his daughter's brow, and whispered in her ear: "gaze confidently into the future, my girl. a father's eye is not easily deceived, and so i tell you--that the emperor has been forced to shed blood do insure the safety of the throne; but, in personal intercourse with him, i learned to know your future husband as a noble-hearted man. indeed, i am not rich enough to thank the gods for such a son-in-law!" melissa gazed after her father, incapable of speaking. it went to her heart that all these hopes should be changed to sorrow and disappointment through her. and so she said, with tearful eyes, and shook hey head when the lady assured her that with her it was a question of a cruelly spoiled life, whereas her father would only have to renounce some idle vanities which he would forget as easily as he had seized upon them. "you do not know him," answered the maiden, sadly. "if i fly, then he too must hide himself in a far country. he will never be happy again if they take him from the little house--his birds--our mother's grave. it was for her sake alone that he took no thought for the ivory seat in the curia. if you only knew how he clings to everything that reminds him of our mother, and she never left our city." here she was interrupted by the entrance of philostratus. he was not alone; an imperial slave accompanied him, bringing a graceful basket with gifts from the emperor to melissa. first came a wreath of roses and lotos-flowers, looking as if they had been plucked just before sunrise, for among the blossoms and leaves there flashed and sparkled a glittering dew of diamonds, lightly fastened on delicate silver wires. next came a bunch of flowers, round whose stems a supple golden snake was twined, covered with rubies and diamonds and destined to coil itself round a woman's arm. the third was a necklace of extremely costly persian pearls, which had once belonged--so the merchant had declared--to great cleopatra's treasure. melissa loved flowers; and the costly gifts that accompanied them could not fail to rejoice a woman's heart. and yet she only gave them a passing glance, reddening painfully as she did so. what the bearer had to say to her was of more importance to her than the gifts he brought, and in fact the troubled manner of the usually composed philosopher betrayed that he had something more serious to deliver than the gifts of his love-sick lord. the lady euryale, perceiving that he meant to try once more to persuade melissa to yield, hastened to declare that she had found ways and means to help the maiden to escape; but he shook his head with a sigh, and said, thoughtfully: "well--well--i shall go on board the ship while the wild beasts are doing their part in the circus. may we meet again happily, either here or else where! my way leads me first to caesar's mother, to inform her of his choice of a wife. not that he needs her consent: whose consent or disapproval does caracalla care for? but i am to win julia's heart for you. possibly i may succeed; but you--you scorn it, and fly from her son. and yet--believe me, child--the heart of that woman is a treasure that has no equal, and, if she should open her arms to you, there would be little that you could not endure. when i left you, just now, i put myself in your place, and approved of your resolve; but it would be wrong not to remind you once more of what you must expect if you follow your own will, and if caesar considers himself scorned, ill-treated, and deceived by you." "in the name of all the gods, what has happened?" broke in melissa, pallid with fear. philostratus pressed his hand to his brow, and his voice was hoarse with suppressed emotion as he continued: "nothing newonly things are taking their old course. you know that caracalla threatened old claudius vindex and his nephew with death because of their opposition to his union with you. we all hoped, however, that he would be moved to exercise mercy. he is in love--he was so gracious at the feast! i myself was foremost among those who did their utmost to dispose caesar to clemency.. but he would not be moved, and, before the sun goes down upon this day, the old man and the young one--the chiefest among the nobles of rome--will be no more. and it is caracalla's love for you, child, that sheds this blood. ask yourself after this how many lives will be sacrificed when your flight causes hatred and fury to reign supreme in the soul of the cheated monarch!" with quickened breath euryale had listened to the philosopher, without regarding the girl; but scarcely had philostratus uttered his last words than melissa ran to her, and, clasping her hands passionately on the matron's arm, she cried, "ought i to obey you, euryale, and the terrors of my own heart, and flee?" then releasing the lady, she turned again to the philosopher, and burst out: "or are you in the right, philostratus? must i stay, to prevent the misery that threatens to overtake others?" beside herself, torn by the storm that raged in her soul, she clasped her hands upon her brow and continued, wildly: "you are both of you so wise, and surely wish the best. how can you give me such opposite advice? and my own heart?--why have the gods struck it dumb? time was when it spoke loudly enough if ever i was in doubt. one thing i know for certain: if by the sacrifice of my life i could undo it all, i would joyfully cast myself before the lions and panthers, like the christian maiden whom my mother saw smiling radiantly as she was led into the arena. splendor and power are as hateful to me as the flowers yonder with their false dew. i was ever taught to close my ear to the voice of selfishness. if i have any wish for myself, it is that i may keep my faith with him to whom it was promised. but for love of my father, and if i could be certain of saving many from death and misery, i would stay, though i should despise myself and be separated forever from my beloved!" "submit to the inevitable," interposed the philosopher, with eager entreaty. "the immortal gods will reward you with the blessings of hundreds whom a word from you will have saved from ruin and destruction." "and what say you?" asked the maiden, gazing with anxious expectancy into the matron's face. "follow your own heart!" replied the lady, deeply moved. melissa had hearkened to both counselors with eager ear, and both hung anxiously on her lips, while, as if taken out of herself, she gazed with panting bosom into the empty air. they had not long to wait. suddenly the maiden approached philostratus and said with a firmness and decision that astonished her friend: "this will i do--this--i feel it here--this is the right. i remain, i renounce the love of my heart, and accept what fate has laid upon me. it will be hard, and the sacrifice that i offer is great. but i must first have the certainty that it shall not be in vain." "but, child," cried philostratus, "who can look into the future, and answer for what is still to come?" "who?" asked melissa, undaunted. "he alone in whose hand lies my future. to caesar himself i leave the decision. go you to him now and speak for me. bring him greeting from me, and tell him that i, whom he honors with his love, dare to entreat him modestly but earnestly not to punish the aged claudius vindex and his nephew for the fault they were guilty of on my account. for my sake would he deign to grant them life--and liberty? add to this that it is the first proof i have asked of his magnanimity, and clothe it all in such winning words as peitho can lay upon your eloquent lips. if he grants pardon to these unfortunate ones, it shall be a sign to me that i may be permitted to shield others from his wrath. if he refuses, and they are put to death, then will he himself have decided our fate otherwise, and he sees me for the last time alive in the circus. thus shall it be--i have spoken." the last words came like a stern order, and philostratus seemed to have some hopes of the emperor's clemency, for his love's sake, and the philosopher's own eloquence. the moment melissa ceased, he seized her hand and cried, eagerly: "i will try it; and, if he grant your request, you remain?" "yes," answered the maiden, firmly. "pray caesar to have mercy, soften his heart as much as you are able. i expect an answer before going to the circus." she hurried back into the sleeping-room without regarding philostratus's answer. once there, she threw herself upon her knees and prayed, now to the manes of her mother, now--it was for the first time--to the crucified saviour of the christians, who had taken upon himself a painful death to bring happiness to others. first she prayed for strength to keep her vow, come what might; and then she prayed for diodoros, that he might not be made wretched if she found herself compelled to break her troth with him. her father and brothers, too, were not forgotten, as she commended their lives to a higher power. when euryale looked into the room, she found melissa still upon her knees, her young frame shaken as with fever. so she withdrew softly, and in the temple of serapis, where her husband served as high-priest, she prayed to jesus christ that he who suffered little children to come unto him would lead this wandering lamb into the right path. this ebook was produced by david widger <widger@cecomet.net> [note: there is a short list of bookmarks, or pointers, at the end of the file for those who may wish to sample the author's ideas before making an entire meal of them. d.w.] margery by georg ebers volume 6. chapter vi. shall i now set forth how that ann and i found herdegen in his hidingplace, a simple little beekeeper's but in the most covert part of the lorenzer wald, a spot whither no horseman might pass; how that even in his poor peasant's weed my brother was yet a goodly man, and clasped his sweetheart in his arms as ardently as in that first day on his homecoming from italy--and how that the dear, hunted fellow, beholding me in mourning dress, took his sister to his heart as soon as his plighted love had left the place free? yea, for the dead had been dear to him likewise, and his love for me had never failed. when we presently gave ourselves up in peace to the joy of being all together once more, i weened that his eye was more steadfast, and his voice graver and calmer than of old; and whensoever he spoke to me it was in a soft and heartfelt tone, which gave me comforting assurance that he grieved for my grief. and how sweetly and gravely did he beguile ann to make the most of this sad meeting, wherein welcome and god-speed so closely touched. in the house once more i rejoiced in the lofty flight which lifted this youth's whole spirit above all things common or base; and his sweetheart's eyes rested on him in sheer delight as he talked with my uncle, or with the magistrate who had come forth with us to the forest. and albeit it was in truth his duty to the emperor his master, to fulfil his behest, nevertheless he gave us his promise that he would put off the announcement of the sentence till we should return to the town next day, and prolong our time together and with cousin maud as much as in him lay. my aunt's eyes shone with sheer joy when they fell on her darling with herdegen at her side, and she could say to herself no doubt that these two, who, as she conceived, were made for each other, would hardly have come together again but for her help. or ever we set forth on the morrow, she called herdegen to her once more to speak with him privily, and bid him bear in mind that if ever in his wanderings he should meet another youth--and he knew who--he might tell him that at home in the lorenzerwald a mother's heart was yet beating, which could never rest till his presence had gladdened it once more. my uncle rode with us into the town. it was at the gate that the magistrate told herdegen what his fate should be: that he must leave nuremberg on the morrow at the same hour; and to my dying day i shall ever remember with gladness and regret the meal we then sat down to with our nearest and dearest. cousin maud called it her darling's condemnation supper. she had watched the cooking of every dish in the kitchen, and chosen the finest wine out of the cellar. yet the victual might have been oatmeal porridge, and the noble liquor the smallest beer, and it would have been no matter to our great, albeit melancholy gladness. and indeed, no man could have gazed at the pair now come together again after so many perils, and not have felt his heart uplifted. ah! and how dear to me were those twain! they had learnt that life was as nothing to either of them without the other, and their hearts meseemed were henceforth as closely knit as two streams which flow together to make one river, and whose waters no power on earth can ever sunder. they sat with us, but behind great posies of flowers, as it were in an isle of bliss; yet were they in our midst, and showed how glad it made them to have so many loving hearts about them. notwithstanding her joy and trouble ann forgot not her duty as "watchman," and threatened uncle christian when he would take more than he should of the good liquor. he, however, declared that this day was under the special favor of the saints, and that no evil could in any wise befall him. my forest-uncle and master pernhart had been found in discourse together, and the matter of which they spoke was my cousin gotz. and how it gladdened the father to speak of his far-off son! more especially when pernhart's lips overflowed with praise of the youth to whom his only child owed her early death. most marvellous of all was the magister. herdegen's return to his beloved robbed master peter of his last hope; nevertheless his eyes had never rested on her with fonder rapture. verily his faithful heart was warmed as it were by the happiness which surrounded her as with a glory, and indeed it was not without some doubts that i saw the worthy man, who was wont to be so sober, raise his glass again and again to drink to ann, whether she marked him or not, and drain his glass each time in her honor. my uncle christian likewise filled his cup right diligently, and seeing him quaff it with such lusty good will i feared lest he should keep us all night at table, when the time was short for ann and my brother to have any privy speech together. but that good man forgot not, even over the wine-jar, what might pleasure other folks; and albeit it was hard for him to quit a merry drinking-bout he was the first to move away. we were alone by sundown. the magister had been carried to bed and woke not till noon on the morrow. the plighted couple sat once more in the oriel where they had so often sat in happier days, and seeing them talking and fondling in the gathering dusk, meseemed for a while that that glad winter season had come again in which they had rejoiced in the springtide of their love. thus the hours passed, and i was in the very act of enquiry whether it were not time to light the lamps, when we heard voices on the stairs, and cousin maud came in saying that sir franz had made his way into the house, and that he declared that his weal or woe, nay and his life lay in herdegen's hand, so that she had not the heart to refuse to suffer him to come in. hereupon my brother started up in a rage, but the chamber door was opened, and with the maid, who brought the lamp in, the bohemian crossed the threshold. we maids would fain have quitted them; but the knight besought us to remain, saying, as his eyes humbly sued to mine, that rather should i tarry and speak a good word for him. then, when herdegen called upon him to speak, but did not hold forth his hand, sir franz besought him to suffer him to be his comrade in his pilgrimage. howbeit so doleful a fellow was by no means pleasing in my brother's eyes, and so he right plainly gave him to understand; then the bohemian called to mind their former friendship, and entreated him to put himself in his place and not to forget that he, as a man sound of limb, would have avenged the scorn put on him by rochow in fair fight instead of with a dagger-thrust. they were condemned to a like penance and, if herdegen would not suffer him and give him his company, this would be the deathblow to his blighted honor. hereupon i appealed to my brother right earnestly, beseeching him not to reject his former friend if it were only for love of me. and inasmuch as on that day his whole soul was filled with love, his hardness was softened, and how gladly and thankfully my heart beat when i beheld him give his hand to the man who had endured so much woe for my sake. presently, while they were yet speaking of their departing, again there were voices without; and albeit i could scarce believe my ears i mistook not, and knew the tones for ursula's. ann likewise heard and knew them, and she quitted the chamber saying: "none shall trouble me in such an hour, least of all shall ursula!" the angelus had long since been tolled, and somehap of grave import must have brought us so rare a guest at so late an hour. my cousin, who would fain have hindered her from coming in, held her by the arm; and her efforts to shake off the old lady's grasp were all in vain till she caught sight of herdegen. then at length she freed herself and, albeit she was gasping for breath, her voice was one of sheer triumph as she cried: "i had to come, and here i am!" "aye, but if you come as a mar-joy i will show you the way out, my word for that!" my cousin panted; but the maid heeded her not, but went straight toward herdegen and said: "i felt i must see you once more ere you depart--i must! old jorg attended me, and when i am gone forth again dame maud will speak my 'eulogium'. only look at her! but it is all one to me. find me a place, herdegen, where i may speak with you and ann spiesz alone. i have a message for you." hereupon my cousin broke in with a scornful laugh, such as i could never have looked to hear from her, with her kind and single heart; and my brother told ursula shortly and plainly that with her he had no more to do. to this she made answer that it would be a sin to doubt that, inasmuch as he was now a pious pilgrim and honorably betrothed, nevertheless she craved to see ann. that, too, was denied her, and she did but shrug her shoulders; then she turned to the bohemian, who had gone towards her, and asked him with icy politeness to remove from her presence, inasmuch as he was an offence to her. hereupon i saw the last drop of red blood fade away from the young knight's sickly cheek, and it went to my heart to see him uplift his hands and implore her right humbly: "you know, ursula, all that hath befallen me for your sake, and how hard a lot awaits me. three times have i been plighted to you, my promised bride, and as many times cast off...." "to spare you the like fate a fourth time; all good things being in threes!" she put in, mocking him. "verily you have cured me of any desire ever to be your dame, sir knight. and since meseems this day our speech is free and truthful, i am fain to confess that such a wish was ever far enough from me, and even when we stood betrothed. a strange thing is love! 'here's to fair margery!' one day, on every noble gentleman's lips; and on the morrow: 'here's to sweet ursula!' in some folks it grows inwardly, as it were a polypus, and of such, woe is me, am i. my love, if you would know the truth, my lord baron von welemisl, love such i have known i gave once for all to that man herdegen schopper; it has been his from the time when, in my short little skirts, i learnt to write; and so it has ever been, till the hour when worthy dame henneleinlein, the noble junker's new cousin--it is enough to make one die of laughing!--when that illustrious lady whispered the truth in my ear that her intending kinsman had thrown me over, and, with me, old im hoff's wealth, for the sake of a scrivener's wench. and to think that as a boy he was wont to bring me posies, and wear my colors! nay, and since that time he has shot many a fiery glance at me. only lately he wrote to his uncle from paris that he was minded to make me his wife. ah, you may open your eyes wide, most respected every-one's-cousin maud, and you likewise, prim and spotless mistress margery! cross yourselves in the name of all the saints! a dead wolf cannot bite, and as for my love for that man, i may boldly declare that it is dead and buried. but mark me," and she clapped her hand to her heaving bosom, "mark me, somewhat else hath made entrance here, with drums and trumpets and high jubilee: hate! --i hate you, herdegen, as i hate death, pestilence, and hell; and i hate you twice as much since your skill with the rapier brought the combat with the brandenburger, into which i entrapped you, to so perverse an end." hereupon cousin maud, wild with rage herself, gripped her again by the arm to draw her forth from the chamber, but ursula went on in a milder tone: "only a few moments longer, i pray you; for by the blessed virgin and all the saints i swear that i would not have come hither at so late an hour but to deliver my message to herdegen." my cousin released her, and she drew forth a written paper and again enquired for ann; howbeit my brother said that he did not purpose to call her in, and desired that she would give him the paper, if indeed it concerned him. to this she answered that he would presently know that much, inasmuch as it was her intent to read it to the company, only she would fain have had his fair mistress among the hearers. howbeit she had a good loud voice, she thanked the saints, and the doors in the schoppers' house were scarce thicker than in other folks' houses. the letter in her hand had been given to her to deliver to herdegen by the newlymade vicar of his highness the elector and archbishop of treves, who was lodged with the tetzels. he had not been able to find him, no more than the emperor's men-at-arms; so he had bidden her take good heed that she gave it into junker schopper's own hand. but verily she would do yet more, and spare him the pains of reading it. hereupon my brother, in great ire, bid her no longer keep that which was not her own; yet she refused, and whereas herdegen seized her hand to wrench away the paper she shrieked out to the bohemian: "give him his due, for a knave who offends maidens; that outcast for whom i scorned and misprized you! help, help, if you are no churl!" my brother nevertheless had already snatched the letter from her, and the bohemian, who had laid his hand on his dagger, thought better of it as his eye met my look of warning. it was a fearful moment of terror, and ursula, whose hair had fallen loose, while her flashing blue eyes, full of hate, shot lightnings on one and another, stood clinging to the heavy dresser whereon our silver and glass vessels were displayed, and cried out as loudly as she could shout: "the letter is from his lady-love in padua, the marchesa bianca zorzi. that cunning swordsman's blade made her a widow, and now she bids him return to her embrace. the fond and ardent lady is in venice, and her intent is to revel there in love and pleasure with her husband's murderer. and he--though he may have sworn a thousand vows to the scrivener's hussy--he will do the italian circe's bidding, and if he may escape her snares he will fall into those of another. oh! i know him; and i feel in my soul that his fate will be to dally with one and another in delights and raptures, till the saints fulfil my heart's chiefest desire, and he comes to despair and anguish and want, and the scrivener's wench breaks her heart under my very eyes with pining and sheer shame. away, away, herdegen schopper! go forth to joy and to misery! go-with your pale black-haired mate. revel and wallow, till you, who have trampled on this heart's true love, are brought low--as loathsome in the eyes of men as a leper and a beggar." and she shook the dresser so that the precious glass cup which the german merchants of the fondaco at venice had given to my father at his departing, fell to the floor and was broken to pieces with a loud crash. we had hearkened to her ravings as though spellbound and frozen; and when we at last took heart to put an end to her wild talk, lo, she was gone, and flying down the stairs with long strides. herdegen, who had turned pale, struggled to command himself. cousin maud, who had lost her breath with dismay, burst into loud weeping; the wild maid's curse had fallen heavy on her soul. i alone kept my senses, so far as to go to the window and look out at her. i saw her walking along, hanging her head; the serving man carried the lantern before her, and the bohemian was speaking close in her ear. when i came back into the chamber cousin maud had her arm round herdegen, and was saying to him, with many tears, that the curse of the wicked had no power over a pious and faithful christian; yet he quitted her in haste to seek ann, who doubtless would have stayed in the next chamber, and perchance needed his succor. howbeit the door was opened, and we could scarce believe our eyes when she came in with that same roguish smile which she was wont to wear when, in playing hide-and-seek, she had stolen home past the seeker, and she cried: "thank the virgin that the air is clear once more! you may laugh, but in truth i fled up to the very garret for sheer dread of mistress tetzel. did she come to fetch her bridegroom?" herdegen could not refrain from smiling at this question, and we likewise did the same; even cousin maud, who till this moment had sat on the couch like one crushed, with her feet stretched out before her, made a face and cried: "to fetch him! ursula who has caught the bohemian! she is a monster! were ever such doings seen in our good town?--and her mother was so wise, so worthy a woman! and the hussy is but nineteen!--merciful father, what will she be at forty or fifty, when most women only begin to be wicked!" and thus she went on for some while. ere long we forgot ursula and all the hateful to-do, and passed the precious hours in much content, till after midnight, when the pernharts sent to fetch ann home. herdegen and i would walk with her. after a grievous yet hopeful leave-taking i came home again, leaning on his arm, through the cool autumn night. when i now admonished herdegen as we walked, as to the fair marchesa and her letter, he declared to me that in those evil weeks he had spent in bitter yearning as a serving man in the bee-keeper's hut, he had learned to know his own mind. neither the marchesa, whom he scorned from the bottom of his heart, inasmuch as, with all her beauty, she was full of craft and lies, no, nor event dame venus herself could now turn him aside from the love and duty he had sworn to ann. he would, indeed, take ship from genoa rather than from venice, were it not for shame of such fears of his own weakness, and that he longed once more to set eyes on our brother kunz whom he had not seen for so long a space. i found it hard to see clear in this matter. yet could i not deem it wise to deny him the first chance of proving himself true and honest; likewise meseemed that our younger brother's presence would be a safe guard against temptation. under the eye of our parent's pictures i bid him good night for the few hours till he should depart, and when i pointed up to them he understood me, and clasped me fondly in his arms saying: "never fear, little mother margery!" we were with herdegen again or ever it was morning. while we had been sleeping he had written a loving letter to my grand-uncle, who had yesterday forbidden him his presence, to bear witness to his duty and thankfulness. the cocks still were crowing in the yards, and the country-folk were coming into town with asses and waggons, when i mounted my horse to ride forth with my brother. he was busied in the courtyard with the new serving-man he had hired, by reason that eppelein, who for safety's sake had not been suffered to go with him into hiding, had vanished as it were from the face of the earth. nay, and we knew for what cause and reason, for dame henneleinlein had counselled the king's men to seize him, to the end that he might be put on the rack to give tidings of where his master lay hid. if they had caught him his stout limbs would have fared ill indeed; but the light-hearted varlet was a favorite with the serving men and wenches of the court-folk, jolly at the wine cup and all manner of sport, and thus they had bestowed him away. and so, while we were living from day to day in great fear, an old charcoal wife would come in from the forest twice or thrice in every week and bring charcoal to the kitchen wench to sell, and albeit she was ever sent away, yet would she come again and ask many questions. while we were yet tarrying for herdegen to be ready the old wife came by with her cart, and when she had asked of some needful matters she pulled off her kerchief with a loud laugh, and lo, in her woman's weed, there stood eppelein and none other. hereupon was much rejoicing and, in a few minutes, the crafty fellow was turned again into a sturdy riding man, albeit beardless. eppelein's return helped cousin maud over the grief of leave-taking. yet, when at last we must depart, it went hard with her. at the gate we were met by the pernharts with ann and uncle christian. my lord the chief magistrate likewise was there, to bear witness to herdegen's departing; also heinrich trardorf, his best beloved schoolmate, who had ever been his faithful friend. we had left the walls and moat of the town far behind us, when we heard swift horses at our heels, and sir franz, with two serving-men, joined the fellowship. my brother had soon found a place at ann's side, and we went forward at an easy pace; and if they were minded to kiss, bending from their saddles, they need fear no witness, for the autumn mist was so thick that it hid every one from his nearest neighbor. thus we went forth as far as lichtenhof, and while we there made halt to take a last leave, meseemed that heaven was fain to send us a friendly promise. the mist parted on a sudden as at the signal of a magician, and before us lay the city with its walls, and towers, and shining roofs, over-topped by the noble citadel. thus we parted in better cheer than we had deemed we might, and the lovers might yet for a long space signal to each other by the waving of hat and of kerchief. chapter vii. herdegen's departing marks my life's way with another mile-stone. all fears about him were over, and a great peace fell upon me. i had learnt by experience that it was within my power to be mistress of any heart's griefs, and i could tell myself that dull sufferance of woe would have ill-pleased him whose judgment i most cared for. to remember him was what i best loved, and i earnestly desired to guide my steps as would have been his wish and will. in some degree i was able to do so, and ann was my great helper. my eyes and ears were opened again to what should befall in the world in which my lover had lived; all the more so as matters now came about in the land and on its borders which deeply concerned my own dear home and threatened it with great peril. after the diet was broken up, the elector frederick of brandenburg was forced to take patience till the princes, lords, and mounted men-at-arms sent forth by the townships, five or six from each, could muster at his bidding to pursue the hussites in bohemia. one year was thus idly spent; albeit the bohemian rebels meanwhile could every day use their weapons, and instead of waiting to be attacked marched forward to attack. certain troops of the heretics had already crossed the borders, and our good town had to strengthen its walls and dig its moat deeper to make ready for storm and siege. or ever the diet had met, many hands had already been at work on these buildings; and in these days every man soul in nuremberg, from the boys even to the grey-haired men, wielded the spade or the trowel. every serving-man in every household, whether artisan or patrician--and ours with the rest--was bound to toil at digging, and our fine young masters found themselves compelled to work in sun or rain, or to order the others; and it hurt them no more than it did the magister, whose feebleness and clumsiness did the works less benefit than the labor did to his frail body. wheresoever three men might be seen in talk, for sure it was of statematters, and mostly of the hussites. at first it would be of the king's message of peace; of the resistance made by the elector palatine, ludwig, in the matter of receiving the ecclesiastical elector of mainz as vicargeneral of the empire; of the same reverend elector's loss of dignity at boppard, and of the delay and mischief that must follow. then it was noised abroad that the margrave frederick of meissen, who now held the lands of the late departed elector albrecht of saxony in fief from the king, and whose country was a strong bulwark against the bohemians, was about to put an end to the abomination of heresy. howbeit, neither he nor duke albrecht of austria did aught to any good end against the foe; and matters went ill enough in all the empire. the electors assembled at bingen made great complaints of the king tarrying so far away, and with reason; and when he presently bid them to a diet at vienna they would not obey. the message of peace was laughed to scorn; and how much blood was shed to feed the soil of the realm in many and many a fight! and what fate befell the army whereon so great hopes had been set? the courage and skill of the leader were all in vain; the vast multitude of which he was captain was made up of over many parts, all unlike, and each with its own chief; and the fury of the heretics scattered them abroad. likewise among our peaceful citizens there was no small complaining, and with good cause, that a king should rule the empire whose realm of hungary, with the perils that beset it from the ottoman turks, the bohemians, and other foes, so filled his thoughts that he had neither time, nor mind, nor money to bestow due care on his german states. his treasury was ever empty; and what sums had the luckless war with venice alone swallowed up! he had not even found the money needful to go to rome to be crowned emperor. he had failed to bring the contentious princes of the empire under one hat, so to speak; and whereas his father, charles iv., had been called the arch-stepfather of the german empire, sigismund, albeit a large-hearted, shrewd, and unresting soul, deserved a scarce better name, inasmuch as that he, like the former sovereign, when he fell heir to his bohemian fatherland, knew not how to deal even with that as a true father should. not a week passed after herdegen's departing but a letter by his own hand came to ann, and all full of faithful love. i, likewise, had, not so long since, had such letters from another, and so it fell that these, which brought great joy to ann, did but make my sore heart ache the more. and when i would rise from table silent and with drooping head, the magister would full often beg leave to follow me to my chamber, and comfort me after his own guise. in all good faith would he lay books before my eyes, and strive to beguile me to take pleasure in them as the best remedy against heaviness of soul. the lives of the mighty heathen, as his plutarch painted them, would, he said, raise even a weak soul to their greatness and the consolatio philosophiae of boetius would of a surety refresh my stricken heart. howbeit, one single well-spent hour in life, or one toilsome deed fruitful for good, hath at all times brought me better comfort than a whole pile of pig-skin-covered tomes. yet have certain verses of the scripture, or some wise and verily right noble maxim from the writings of the greeks or latins dropped on my soul now and again as it were a grain of good seed. sad to tell, those first letters from herdegen, all dipped in sunshine, were followed by others which could but fill us with fears. the pilgrims had been over-long in getting so far as venice, by reason that sir franz had fallen sick after they had passed the bienner, and my brother had diligently and faithfully tended him. thus it came to pass that another child of nuremberg, albeit setting forth after them, passed them by; and this was ursula tetzel, whose father deemed it well to send her forth from the city, where, of a truth, the ground had waxed too hot for her, inasmuch as she had given cause for two bloody frays; and cousin maud, to be sure, had not kept silence as to her unbridled demeanor in our house. now mistress mendel, her aunt, had many years ago gone to the city of st. mark, and albeit it was there against the laws for a noble to marry with a stranger maiden, she had long since by leave of the republic, become the wife of filippo polani, with whom she was still living in much ease and honor. in augsberg, in ulm, and in frankfort, there were many noble families of the tetzels' kith and kin, yet she had chosen to go to this aunt in venice; and doubtless the expectation of meeting herdegen there, whether in love or hate, had had its weight with her. thus it came to pass that she found him at brixen, where he tarried with the sick knight; and he wrote that, as it fell, he had had more to do with her and her father than he had cared for, and that in a strange place many matters were lightly smoothed over, whereas at home walls and moats would have parted them; nay, that in italy the nuremberger would even call a man of cologne his countryman. for my part, i could in no wise conceive how those two should ever more speak a kind word to each other, and this meeting in truth pleased me ill. howbeit, his next letter gave us better cheer. he had then seen kunz, meeting him right joyfully, and was lodged in the fondaco, the german merchants' hall, where likewise kunz had his own chamber. herdegen's next letter from venice brought us the ill tidings that the plague had broken out, and that he could find no fellowship to travel with him, by reason that, so long as the sickness raged in venice, her vessels would not be suffered to cast anchor in any seaport of the levant. and a great fear came over me, for our dear father had fallen a prey to that evil. in his third or fourth letter our pilgrim told us, with somewhat of scorn, that the marchesa zorzi, who had in fact removed thither from padua, and had made friends with ursula in the house of filippo polani, had bidden him to wait on her, by one of her pages; yet might he be proud--he said--of the high-handed and steadfast refusal he had returned, once for all. in truth i was moved to deeper fears by what both my brothers wrote of the black barges, loaded to the gunwale with naked corpses, which stole along the canals in the silent night, to cast forth their dreadful freight in the grave yards on the shore, or into the open sea. the plague was raging nigh to the fondaco, and my two brothers were living in the midst of the dead; nay, and ann knew that ursula would not depart from her lover, although the palazzo polani, where she had found lodging, lay hard by the fondaco. yet, hard as as it is to conceive of it, never had the music sounded with noisier delights in the dancing-halls of venice, nor had the money been more lightly tossed from hand-to-hand over the gaming-tables, nor, at any time, had there been hotter love-making. it must be that each one was minded to enjoy, in the short space of life that might yet be his, all the delights of long years.--and foremost of these was the marchesa bianca zorzi. as for herdegen, not long did he brook the narrow chambers of the fondaco-house; driven forth by impatience and heart-sickness, from morning till night he was in his boat, or on the grand piazza, or on the watery highways; and inasmuch as he ever fluttered to where ladies of rank and beauty were to be found, as a moth flies to the light, that evil woman was ever in his path, day after day, and whensoever her hosts would suffer it, ursula would be with her. nay, and the german maiden, who had learned better things of the carthusian sisters, was not ashamed to aid and abet that sinful italian woman. thus my brother was in great peril lest ursula's prophecy should be fulfilled by his own fault. indeed he already had his foot in the springe, inasmuch as that he could not say nay to the marchesa's bidding that he would go to her house on her nameday. it was a higher power that came betwixt them, vouchsafing him merciful but grievous repentance; the plague, death's unwearied executioner, snatched the fair, but sinful lady, from among the living. ursula lamented over her as though it were her own sister that had died; and it seemed that the marchesa was fain to keep up the bond that had held them together even beyond the grave, for it was at her funeral that the son of one of the oldest and noblest families of the republic first saw mistress ursula tetzel, and was fired with love for the maiden. she had many a time been seen abroad with the marchesa, or with the polanis, and the young gentlemen of the signoria, the painters, and the poets, had marked her well; the natural golden hue of her hair was an amazement and a delight to the italians; indeed many a black-haired lady and common hussy would sit on her roof vainly striving to take the color out of her own locks. it was the same with her velvet skin, which even at nuremberg had many a time brought to men's minds the maid in the tale of "snowwhite and rose-red." thus it fell that anselmo guistiniani had heard of her during the lifetime of his cousin the marchesa zorzi, while he was absent from venice on state matters. and when he beheld her with his own eyes among the mourners, there was an end to his peace of heart; he forthwith set himself to win her for his own. howbeit ursula met her noble suitor with icy coldness, and when he and herdegen came together at the palazzo polani, where she was lodging, she made as though she saw my lord not at all, and had no eyes nor ears save for my brother; till it was more than guistinani would bear, and he abruptly departed. herdegen's letter, which told us all these things, was full of kindly pity for the fair and hapless damsel who had demeaned herself so basely towards him, by reason that her fiery love had turned her brain, and that she still was pining for him to whom she had ever been faithful from her childhood up. she had freely confessed as much even under the very eyes of so lordly a suitor as anselmo giustiniani; and albeit ann might be sure of his constancy, even in despite of ursula, yet would he not deny that he could forgive ursula much in that she had loved much, as the scripture saith. every shadow of danger for him was gone and overpast; he had already bid ursula farewell, and was to ride forth next morning to genoa, leaving the plague-stricken city behind him, and would take ship there. it was well indeed that he should be departing, inasmuch as yestereve, when he bid ursula good night, giustiniani had given him to understand that he, herdegen, was in his way; at home he would have shown his teeth, and with good right, to any man who had dared to speak to him, but in venice every man who lodged in the fondaco was forbid the use of weapons, and he had heard tell of anselmo giustiniani that he, unlike the rest of his noble race, who were benevolent men and patrons of learning, albeit he was a prudent statesman and serviceable to the city, was a stern and violent man. this much in truth a man might read in his gloomy black eyes; and many a stranger, for all he were noble and a knight, who had fallen out with a venetian signor of his degree had vanished forever, none knew whither. as we read these words the blood faded from ann's cheek; but i set my teeth, for i may confess that herdegen's ways and words roused my wrath. in ann's presence i could, to be sure, hide my ire; but when i was alone i struck my right fist into my left hand and asked of myself whether a man or a woman were the vainer creature? for what was it that still drew my brother to that maid who had ever pursued him and the object of his love with cruel hate--so strongly, indeed, that he would have been ready to cherish and comfort her--but joy at finding himself--a mere townbred junker--preferred above that grand nobleman? for my part, i plainly saw that ursula was playing the same game again as she had carried on here with herdegen and the brandenburger. she spoke the man she hated fair before the jealous marchese, only to rouse that potent noble's fury against my brother. after all this my heart rejoiced when we received herdegen's first letter written from genoa, nay, on board of the galleon which was to carry him, sir franz and eppelein to cyprus. in this he made known that he had departed from venice without let or hindrance, and he bid us farewell with such good cheer, and love, and hope, that ann and i forgot and forgave with all our hearts everything that had made us wroth. this last greeting came as a fragrant love-posy, and it helped us to think of herdegen's long pilgrimage as he himself did--as of a ride forth to the forest. from this letter we were likewise aware that he had never known what peril he had escaped; for ere long i learned from kunz that paid assassins had fallen on him the very next evening after herdegen's departing, in the crooked street called of saint chrysostom, at the back part of the german merchants' house; yea, and they would easily have overpowered him but that certain great strong tyrolese bale-packers of the fondaco came to his succor or ever it was too late. and it was right certain that these murderers were in giustiniani's pay, and in the dusk had taken kunz for his brother, who was some what like him. the younger had come off unharmed by the special mercy of the saints, but it might well have befallen that, as of old in his schooldays, he should have borne the penalty for herdegen's misdoings. and whereas i mind me here of the many ways in which my eldest brother prospered and got the best of it over the younger, and of other like cases, meseems it is the lot of certain few to suffer others, not their betters, to stand in their sun, and eat the fruit that has ripened on their trees. howbeit, herdegen had by good hap escaped a sharp fray; and when ann and i, kneeling side by side in saint laurence's church, had offered up a thanksgiving from the bottom of our hearts, meseemed we were as some captain who sings te deum after a victory. yet, as ofttimes in the month of may, when for a while the sun bath shone with summer heat and glory, there comes a gloomy time with dark days and sharp frost at nights, so did we deem the long space which followed after that glad and pious church-going. days grew to weeks and weeks to months and we had no tidings, no word from our pilgrims, for good or for evil. verily it was well-nigh a comfort and a help when those who were on the look-out, kunz and other friends, gave it as certain tidings that the galleon which was carrying herdegen to cyprus, and which belonged to the lomellini of genoa, had been lost at sea. saracen pirates, so it was told, had seized the ship; but further tidings were not to be got, as to what had befallen the crew and the travellers, albeit kunz forthwith betook himself to genoa and the futterers, who had a house and trade of their own there, did all they might to find their traces. the eldest and the finest link of the schopper chain had, we deemed, been snatched away, peradventure for ever; the death of her lover had made life henceforth bitter to the third and least, and only the middle one, kunz, remained unhurt and still such as it might have gladdened his parents' hearts to behold him. thus i deemed, at least, when after long parting i set eyes on him once more, a goodly man, tall and of a fair countenance. all that had ever been good and worthy in him had waxed and sped well at venice, that high school of the merchant class; but where was the smiling mirthfulness which had marked him as a youth? the same earnest calm shone in his wise and gentle gaze, and rang in the deep voice he had now gotten. my grand-uncle had esteemed him but lightly, so long as herdegen was his delight; but whereas kunz had done good service at venice and the master of the im hoff house there was dead, and our guardian himself, on whom a grievous sickness had fallen, gave himself up day and night to meet his end, he had, little by little, given over the whole business of the trade to his young nephew; thus it came to pass that kunz, when he was but just twenty, was called upon to govern matters such as are commonly trusted only to a man of ripe years. but his power and wisdom grew with the weight of his burthens. whether it were at nuremberg or at venice, he was ever early to rise and ready, if need should be, to give up his night's rest, sitting over his desk or travelling at great speed; and he seemed to have no eyes nor ears for the pleasures of youth. or ever he was four and twenty i found the first white hair in his brown locks. many there were who deemed that the uncommon graveness of his manners came of the weight of care which had been laid on him so young, and verily not without reason; yet my sister's heart was aware of another cause. when i chanced to see his eye rest on ann, i knew enough; and it was a certainty that i had not erred in my thought, when old dame pernhart one day in his presence spoke of ann as her poor, dear little widow, and the blood mounted to his brow. i would fain have spoken a word of warning to ann when she would thank him with heartfelt and sisterly love for all the pains he had been at, with steadfast patience, to find any token of our lost brother. and how fair was the forlorn bride in these days of waiting and of weary unsatisfied longing! poor kunz! doubtless he loved her; and yet he neither by word nor deed gave her cause to guess his heart's desire. when, at about this time, old hans tucher died, one of the worthiest and wisest heads of the town and the council, kunz gave ann for her name-day a prayer-book with the old man's motto, which he had written in it for kunz's confirmation, which was as follows: "god ruleth all things for the best and sends a happy end at last." and ann took the gift right gladly; and more than once when, after some disappointment, my spirit sank, she would point to the promise "and sends a happy end at last." whereupon i would look up at her, abashed and put to shame; for it is one thing not to despair, and another to trust with steadfast confidence on a happy outcome. she, in truth, could do this; and when i beheld her day by day at her laborious tasks, bravely and cheerfully fulfilling the hard and bitter exercises which her father-confessor enjoined, to the end that she might win the favor of the saints for her lover, i weened that the apostle spake the truth when he said that love hopeth all things and believeth all things. notwithstanding it was not easy to her, nor to us, to hold fast our confidence; now and again some trace of the lost man would come to light which, so soon as kunz followed it up, vanished in mist like a jack-o' lantern. and often as he failed he would not be overweary; and once, when he was staying at nuremberg and tidings came from venice that a certain german who might be herdegen was dwelling a slave at joppa, he made ready to set forth for that place to ransom him forthwith. my grand-uncle, who in the face of death was eagerly striving to win the grace of heaven by good works, suffered him to depart, and at my entreaty he took my squire akusch with him, inasmuch as he could still speak arabic, which was his mother-tongue. likewise i besought kunz to make it his care to restore the lad to his people, if it should befall that he might find them, albeit hitherto we had made enquiry for them in vain. this he promised me to do; yet, often as that good youth had longed to see his native land once more, and much as he had talked in praise of its hot sun, in our cold winter seasons, it went hard with the good lad to depart from us; and when he took leave of me he could not cease from assuring me that in his own land he would do all that in him lay to find the brother of his beloved mistress. thus they fared forth to the levant; and this once again we were doomed to vain hopes. kunz found not him he sought, but a wild swiss soldier who had fallen into the hands of the saracens. him he ransomed, as being a christian man, for a small sum of money; and as for akusch he left him at joppa, whereas his folk were egyptians and he deemed he had found some track of them there. kunz did not go thither with him, inasmuch as in alexandria all had been done that might be done to discover and ransom a frankish captive. nor was akusch idle there, and moreover fate had brought another child of nuremberg to that place. ursula had become the wife of the marchese anselmo giustiniani, by special favor of the great council, and had come with him to egypt, whither he was sent by the republic as consul. there she now dwelt with her noble lord, and in many letters to my granduncle she warmly declared to him that, so far as in her lay, all should be done to discover where the lover of her youth might be. her husband was the most powerful frank in all the sultan's dominions, and it was a joy to her to see with what diligence he made search for the lost youth. herdegen, indeed, had illrepaid her childish love, yet she knew of no nobler revenge than to lay him under the debt of thanks to her and her husband for release and ransom. these words doubtless came from the bottom of her heart; she were no true woman if she could not forgive a man in misfortune for the sins of a happier time. and above all she was ever of a rash and lawless mind, and truthful even to the scorn of modesty and good manners, rather than crafty and smooth of tongue. yet she likewise failed to find the vanished wanderer, and the weeks and months grew to be years while we waited in vain. it was on the twentysecond day of march in the second twelve month after herdegen's departing that the treasures of the realm, and among them a nail from the cross and the point of the spear wherewith they pierced the lord's side, were to be brought into the town in a solemn procession, and i, with many others, rode forth to meet it. they were brought hither from blindenberg on the danube, and the emperor sent them in token of his grace, that we might hold them in safe keeping within our strong walls. they had been brought thus far right privily, under the feint that the waggon wherein they were carried bore wine vats, and a great throng gathered with shouts of joy to hail these precious things. prisoners were set free in honor of their coming; and for my own part i mind the day full well, by reason that i put off my black mourning weed and went forth in a colored holiday garb for the first time in a long while. if i had, in truth, been able by good courage to shake off in due time the oppressing weight of my grief, i owed it in no small measure to the forest-whither we went forth, now as heretofore, to sojourn in the spring and autumn seasons--and to its magic healing. how many a time have i rested under its well-known trees and silently looked back on the past. and, when i mind me of those days, i often ask myself whether the real glad times themselves or those hours of calmer joy in remembrance were indeed the better. as i sat in the woods, thinking and dreaming, there was plenty for the eye to see and the ear to hear. the clouds flew across in silence, and the soft green at my feet, with all that grew on tree and bush, in the grass, and by the brink of the pool, made up a peaceful world, innocently fair and full of precious charm. here there was nought to remind me of the stir of mankind, with its haste and noise and fighting and craving, and that was a delight; nor did the woodland sounds.--the song of birds, the hum of chafers and bees, the whisper of leaves, and all the rush and rustle of the forest were its mother-tongue. yet, not so! there was in truth one human soul of whom i was ever minded while thinking and dreaming in these woods through whom i had first known the joy of loving, and that was the youth whose home was here, for whose return my aunt longed day and night, whose favorite songs i was ever bidden to sing to my uncle when he would take the oars in his strong old hands of an evening, and row us on the pool-he who peradventure had long since followed my lover, and was dead in some far-off land. ann, who was ever diligent, took less pleasure in idle dreaming; she would ever carry a book or some broidery in her hand. or she would abide alone with my aunt; and whereas my aunt now held her to be her fellow in sorrow, and might talk with her of the woe of thinking of the dearest on earth as far away and half lost, they grew closer to each other, and there was bitter grief when our duty took us back to the town once more. at home likewise herdegen was ever in our minds, nevertheless the sunshine was as bright and the children's faces as dear as heretofore, and we could go about the tasks of the hour with fresh spirit. if now and again grief cast a darker shade over ann, still the star of hope shone with more comfort for her than for me and cousin maud; and it was but seldom that you might mark that she had any sorrow. truly there were many matters besides her every-day duties, and her errands within and without the house to beguile her of her fears for her lost lover. first of all there came her stepfather's brother, his eminence cardinal bernhardi--for to this dignity had his holiness raised the bishop--from rome to nuremberg, where he lodged in the house of his fathers. now this high prelate was such a man as i never met the like of, and his goodly face, beardless indeed, but of a manly brown, with its piercing, great eyes, i weened was as a magic book, having the power to compel others, even against their will, to put forth all that was in them of grace and good gifts. yet was he not grave nor gloomy, but of a happy cheer, and ready to have his jest with us maidens; only in his jests there would ever be a covert intent to arouse thought, and whensoever i quitted his company i deemed i had profited somewhat in my soul. he likewise vouchsafed the honor of knowing him to the magister; and whereas he brought tidings of certain greek manuscripts which had been newly brought into italy, master peter came home as one drunk with wine, and could not forbear from boasting how he had been honored by having speech with such a pearl among humanists. my lord cardinal was right well pleased to see his home once more; but what he loved best in it was ann. nay, if it had lain with him, he would have carried her to rome with him. but for all that she was fain to look up to such a man with deep respect, and wait lovingly on his behests, yet would she not draw back from the duty she had taken upon her to care for her brothers and sisters, and chiefly for the deaf and dumb boy. and she deemed likewise that she was as a watchman at his post; it was at nuremberg that all was planned for seeking herdegen, and hither must the first tidings come that could be had of him. the old grand dame also was more than ever bound up in her, and so soon as my lord cardinal was aware that it would greatly grieve his old mother to lose her he renounced his desire. as for me, i was dwelling in a right happy life with cousin maud; never had i been nearer to her heart. so long as she conceived that her comforting could little remedy my woe, she had left me to myself; and as soon as i was fain to use my hands again, and sing a snatch as i went up and down the house, meseemed her old love bloomed forth with double strength. meseemed i could but show her my thankfulness, and my ear and heart were at all times open when she was moved to talk of her bestbeloved herdegen, and reveal to me all the wondrous adventures he had gone through in her imagination. and this befell most evenings, from the hour when we unclothed till long after we had gone to rest; and i was fain to keep my eyes open while, for the twentieth time, she would expound to me her far-fetched visions: that the mamelukes of egypt, who were all slaves and whose sultan was chosen from among themselves, had of a surety set herdegen on the throne, seeing him to be the goodliest and noblest of them all. and perchance he would not have refused this honor if he might thereby turn them from their heathenness and make of them good christians. nay, nor was it hard for her to fancy ann arrayed in silk and gems as a sultana. and then, when i fell asleep in listening to these fancies, which she loved to paint in every detail, behold my dreams would be of turks and heathen; and of bloody battles by land and sea. no man may tell his dreams fasting; but as soon as i had eaten my first mouthful she would bid me tell her all, to the veriest trifle, and would solemnly seek the interpretation of every vision. chapter viii. my lord cardinal had departed from nuremberg some long while, by reason that he was charged by his holiness the pope with a mission which took him through cologne and flanders to england. inasmuch as he was not suffered to have ann herself in his company, he conceived the wish to possess her likeness in a picture; and he sent hither to that end a master of good fame, of the guild of painters in venice. we owed this good limner thanks for many a pleasant hour. sir giacomo bellini was a youth of right merry wit, knowing many italian ditties, and who made good pastime for us while we sat before him; for i likewise must be limned, inasmuch as cousin maud would have it so, and the painter's eye was greatly pleased by my yellow hair. whereas he could speak never a word of german, it was our part to talk with him in italian, and this exercise to me came not amiss. also i could scarce have had a better master to teach me than giacomo bellini, who set himself forthwith to win my heart and turn my head; nay, and he might have done so, but that he confessed from the first that he had a fair young wife in venice, albeit he was already craving for some new love. thus through him again i learned how light a touch is needed to overthrow a man's true faith; and when i minded me of herdegen and ann, and of this giacomo--who was nevertheless a goodly and well-graced man--and his young wife, meseemed that the woman who might win the love of a highly-gifted soul must ofttimes pay for that great joy with much heaviness and heartache. howbeit, i mind me in right true love of the mirthful spirit and manifold sportiveness which marked our fellowship with the italian limner; and after that i had once given him plainly and strongly to understand that the heart of a nuremberg damsel was no light thing or plaything, and her very lips a sanctuary which her husband should one day find pure, all went well betwixt us. the picture of ann, the first he painted, showed her as saint cecelia hearkening to music which sounds from heaven in her ears. two sweet angel babes floated on thin clouds above her head, singing hymns to a mandoline and viol. thus had my lord cardinal commanded, and the work was so excellent that, if the saint herself vouchsafed to look down on it out of heaven, of a certainty it was pleasing in her eyes. as to mine own presentment; at first i weened that i would be limned in my peach-colored brocade gown with silver dolphins thereon, by reason that i had worn that weed in the early morn after the dance, when hans spoke his last loving farewell at the door of our house. but whereas one cold day i went into master giacomo's work-chamber in a red hood and a green cloak bordered with sable fur, he would thenceforth paint me in no other guise. at first he was fain to present me as going forth to church; then he deemed that he might not show forth my very look and seeming if i were limned with downcast head and eyes. therefor he gave me the falcon on my hand which had erewhile been my lover's gift. my eyes were set on the distance as though i watched for a heron; thus i seemed in truth like one hunting--"chaste diana," quoth the painter, minding him of the reproofs i had given him so often. but it would be a hard task to tell of all the ways whereby the painter would provoke me to reprove him. when the likeness was no more than half done, he painted his own merry face to the falcon on my wrist gazing up at me with silly languor. thereupon, when he presently quitted us, i took the red chalk and wrote his wife's name on a clear place in front of the face and beneath it the image of a birch rod; and on the morrow he brought with him a right pleasant sonnet, which i scarce had pardoned had he not offered it so humbly and read it in so sweet a voice. and, being plainly interpreted, it was as follows: "upon olympus, where the gods do dwell who with almighty will rule earth and heaven, lo! i behold the chiefest of them all jove, on his throne with juno at his side. a noble wedded pair. in all the world the eye may vainly seek nor find their like. the nations to his sanctuary throng, and kings, struck dumb, cast down their golden crowns. "yet even these are not for ever one. the god flies from the goddess.--and a swan does devoir now, the slave of leda's charms. "thus i behold the beams of thy bright eye, and bid my home farewell,--i, hapless wight, fly like the god, fair maid, to worship thee !" albeit i suffered him to recite these lines to the end i turned from him with a countenance of great wrath, and tore the paper whereon they were writ in two halves which i flung behind the stove. nor did i put away my angry and offended mien until he had right humbly besought my forgiveness. yet when i had granted it, and he presently quitted the chamber, i did, i confess, gather up the torn paper and bestow it in my girdle-poke. nay, meseems that i had of intent rent it only in twain, to the end that i might the better join it again. thus to this day it lieth in my chest, with other relics of the past; yet i verily believe that another sonnet, which sir giacomo found on the morrow, laid on his easel, was not so treasured by him. it was thus: "there was one hans, and he was fain to try, like to olympian jove, the magic arts of witchcraft upon some well-favored maid. bold the adventure, but the prize how sweet! 'farewell, good wife,' quoth he, 'or e'er the dawn hath broke i must be forward on my way. like jupiter i will be blessed and bless with love; and in the image of a swan.' "the magic spell hath changed him. with a wreath about his head he deems he lacketh nought of what may best beguile a maiden's soul. "thus to fair leda flies the hapless wight.- with boisterous mirth the dame beholds the bird. 'a right fine goose! thou'lt make a goodly roast.'" howbeit giacomo would not leave this verse without reply; and to this day, if you look close into the picture, you may see a goose's head deep in shade among the shrubs in the back part of it, but clearly to be discerned. notwithstanding many such little quarrels we liked each other well, and i may here note that when, in the following year, which was the year of our lord one thousand four hundred and twenty-six, a little son was born to him, since grown to be a right famous painter, known as giambellini-which is to say giovanni, or hans, bellini, i, margery schopper, stood his sponsor at the font. yea and i was ever a true godsib to him, and that painter might indeed thank my kith and kin when he was charged with a certain office in the fondaco in venice, which is worth some hundreds of ducats yearly to him, to this day. thus were the portraits ended, and when i behold my own looking from the wide frame with so mirthful and yet so longing a gaze, meseems that giacomo must have read the book of my soul and have known right well how to present that he saw therein; at that time in truth i was a happy young creature, and the aching and longing which would now and again come over me, in part for him who was gone, and in part i wist not for what, were but the shadow which must ever fall where there is light. and verily i had good cause to be thankful and of good cheer; i was in health as sound as a trout in the brook, and had good chances for making the most of those humble gifts and powers wherewith i was blessed. as to herdegen, it was no small comfort to us to learn that my lord cardinal bernhardi had taken that matter in hand, and had bidden all the priests and friars in the levant to make enquiry for tidings of him. the good prelate was to be nine months journeying abroad, and whereas five months were now spent we were rejoicing in hope of his homecoming; but there was one in nuremberg who looked for it even more eagerly than we did, and that was my grand-uncle im iloff. the old knight had, as i have said, done us thank-worthy service as our guardian; yet had he never been dear to me, and i could not think of him but with silent wrath. howbeit he was now in so sad and cruel a plight that a heart of stone must have melted to behold him. thus pity led me to him, although it was a penance to stay in his presence. the old baron,--for of this title likewise he could boast, since he had poured a great sum into the emperor's treasury,--this old man, who of yore had but feigned a false and evil show of repentance--as that he would on certain holy days wash the feet of beggar folk who had first been cleansed with care, now in sickness and the near terror of death was in terrible earnest, and of honest intent would fain open the gates of heaven by pious exercises. he had to be sure at the bidding of master ulsenius the leech, exchanged the coffin wherein he had been wont to sleep for a common bedstead of wood; yet in this even he might get no rest, and was fain to pass his sleepless nights in his easy chair, resting his aching feet in a cradle which, with his wonted vain-glory, he caused to be made of the shape and color of a pearl shell. but his nights in the coffin, and mockery of death, turned against him; he had ever been pale, and now he wore the very face of a corpse. the blood seemed frozen in his veins, and he was at all times so cold that the great stove and the wide hearth facing him were fed with mighty logs day and night. in this fearful heat the sweat stood on my brow so soon as i crossed the threshold, and if i tarried in the chamber i soon lacked breath. the sick man's speech was scarce to be heard, and as to all that master ulsenius told us of the seat of his ill, and of how it was gnawing him to death i would fain be silent. instead of that lenten mockery of the foot washing he now would do the hardest penance, and there was scarce a saint in the calendar to whom he had not offered gifts or ever he died. a dominican friar was ever in his chamber, telling the rosary for him and doing him other ghostly service, especially in the night season, when he was haunted by terrible restlessness. nothing eased him as a remedy against this so well as the presence of a woman to his mind. but of all those to whom, on many a christmas eve, he had made noble gifts, few came a second time after they had once been in that furnace; or, if they did, it would be no more than to come and depart forthwith. cousin maud could endure to stay longest with him; albeit afterwards she would need many a glass of strong waters to strengthen her heart. as for me, each time when i came home from my grand-uncle's with pale cheeks she would forbid me ever to cross his threshold more: but when his bidding was brought me she likewise was moved to compassion, and suffered me to obey. nevertheless, if i had not been more than common strong, thank the saints, long sitting with the sick man would of a certainty have done me a mischief, for body and soul had much to endure. meseemed that pain had loosened the tongue of that hitherto wordless old man, and whereas he had ever held his head high above all men, he would now abase himself before the humblest. he would stay any man or woman who would tarry, to tell of all his sufferings, and of what he endured in mind and body. his confessor had indeed forbidden him to complain of the evil wherewith heaven had punished him, but none could hinder him from bewailing the evil he had committed in his sinfulness and vanity. and his selfaccusings were so manifold and fearful, that i was fain to believe his declaration that all he had ever thought or done that was good was, as it were, buried; and that nought but the ill he had suffered and committed was left and still had power over him. the death-stroke he had dealt all unwittingly, in heedless passion, rose before his soul day and night as an accursed and bloody deed; and every moment embittered by his wife's unfaith, even to the last hour when, on her death-bed, she cursed him, he lived through again, night after night. whereupon he would clasp his thin hands, through which you might see the light, over his tear-stained face and would not be still or of better cheer till i could no longer hide my own great grief for him. howbeit, when i had heard the same tale again and again it ceased from touching me so deeply; so that at last, instead of such deep compassion, it moved me only to dull gloom and, i will confess, to unspeakable weariness. the tears came not to my eyes, and the only use for my kerchief was to hide my yawning and vinaigrette. thus it fell that the old penitent took no pleasure in my company, and at last weeks might pass while he bid me not to his presence. now, when the pictures were ended, whereas he heard that they were right good likenesses, and moreover was told that my lord cardinal was minded to come home within no long space, he fell into a strange tumult and desired to behold those pictures both of me and of ann. at this i marvelled not: he had long since learned to think of councillor pernbart's step-daughter in all kindness; nay, he had desired me to beg her to forgive a dying old man. we were well-disposed to do his will, and the pernharts no less; on a certain wednesday the pictures were carried to his house, and on the morrow, being thursday, i would go and know whether he were content. and behold my likeness was set in a corner where he scarce could see it; but that of ann was face to face with him and, as i entered the chamber, his eyes were fixed thereon as though ravished by the vision of a saint from heaven. and he was so lost in thought that he looked not away till the dominican brother spoke to him. thereupon he hastily greeted me, and went on to ask of me whether i duly minded that he had been a faithful and thankworthy guardian. and when i answered yes he whispered to me, with a side-look at the friar, that of a surety my lord cardinal must hold ann full dear, if he would bid so famous a master to nuremberg that he might possess her image. now inasmuch as i wist not yet to what end he sought to beguile me by these questions, i confirmed his words with all prudence; and then he glanced again at the monk, and whispered hastily in my ear, and so low that i scarce might hear him: "that fellow is privily drinking up all my old cyprus wine and malvoisie. and the other priests, the plebian here--do you know their worldly and base souls? they take up no cross, neither mortify the flesh by holy fasting, but cherish and feed it as the lost heathen do. are they holy men following in the footsteps of the crucified lord? all that brings them to me is a care for my oblations and gifts. i know them, i know them all, the whole lot of them here in nuremberg. as the city is, so are the pastors thereof! which of them all mortifies himself? is there any high court held here? to win the blessing of a truly lordly prelate, a man must journey to bamberg or to wurzburg. of what avail with the blessed virgin and the saints are such as these ruddy friars? fleischmann, hellfeld, nay the dominican prior himself--what are they? why, at the diet they walked after the bishop of chiemsee and eichstadt. in the matters of the city--its rights, alliances, and dealings--they had indeed a hand; there is nought so dear to them--in especial to fleischmann--as politics, and they are overjoyed if they may but be sent on some embassy. aye, and they have done me some service, as a merchant trader, whensoever i have desired the safe conduct of princes and knights; but as to charging them with the safe conduct of my soul, the weal or woe of my immortal spirit!--no, no, never! aye, margery, for i have been a great sinner. greater power and more mighty mediation are needed to save and deliver me, and behold, my margery, meseems--hear me margery--meseems a special ruling of heaven hath sent.... when is it that his eminence cardinal bernhardi will return from england?" hereupon i saw plainly what was in the wind. i answered him that his eminence purposed to return hither in three or four months' time; he sighed deeply: "not for so long--three months, do you say?" "or longer," quoth i, hastily; but he, forgetting the friar, cried out as though he knew better than i "no, no, in three months. so you said." then he spoke low again, and went on in a confident tone: "so long as that i can hold out, by the help of the saints, if i.... yea, for i have enough left to make some great endowment. my possessions, margery, the estate which is mine own--no man can guess what a well-governed tradinghouse may earn in half a century.--yes, i tell you, margery, i can hold out and wait. two, or at most three months; they will soon slip away. the older we grow and the duller is life, the swifter do the days fly." and verily i had not the heart to tell him that he might have to take much longer patience, and, whereas i noted how hard he found it to speak out that which weighed on his mind, i gave him such help as i might; and then he freely confessed that what he most desired on earth was to receive absolution and the viaticum from the hands of the cardinal. meseemed he believed that his eminence's prayers would serve him better in heaven than those of our simple priests, who had not even gained a bishop's cope; just as the good word of a prince elector gains the emperor's ear sooner than the petition of a town councillor. likewise it soothed his pride, doubtless, to think that he might turn his back on this world under the good guidance of a prelate in the purple. hereupon i promised that his case should be brought to the cardinal's knowledge by ann, and then he gave me to understand that it was his desire that ann should come to see him, inasmuch as that her presentment only had brought him more comfort than the strongest of master ulsenius' potions. he could not be happy to die without her forgiveness, and without blessing her by hand and word. and he pointed to my likeness, and said that, albeit it was right well done, he could bear no more to see it; that it looked forth so full of health and hope, that to him it seemed as though it mocked his misery, and he straitly desired me to send ann to him forthwith; the saints would grant her a special grace for every hour she delayed not her coming. thereupon i departed; ann was ready to do the dying man's bidding, and when i presently went with her into his presence he gazed on her as he had on her portrait, as it were bewitched by her person and manners; and ever after, if she were absent for more than a day or two, he bid her come to him, with prayers and entreaties. and he found means to touch her heart as he had mine; yet, whereas i, ere long, wearied of his complaining, ann's compassion failed not; instead of yawning and being helpless to comfort him, she with great skill would turn his thoughts from himself and his sufferings. then they would often talk of herdegen, and of how to come upon some trace of him, and whereas the old man had in former days left such matters to other folks, he now showed a right wise and keen experience in counselling the right ways and means. hitherto he had trusted to ursula's good words and commended us to the same confidence; now, however, he remembered on a sudden how ill-disposed she had ever been to my lost brother, and whereas it was the season of the year when the trading fleet should set sail from venice for alexandria in the land of egypt, he sent forth a messenger to kunz, charging him to take ship himself and go thither to seek his brother. this filled ann and me likewise with fresh hope and true thankfulness. yet, in truth, as for my grand-uncle, he owed much to ann; her mere presence was as dew on his withered heart, and the hope she kept alive in him, that her uncle, my lord cardinal, would ere long reach home and gladly fulfil his desires, gave him strength and will to live on, and kept the feeble spark of life burning. chapter ix. the month of october had come; the forest claimed us once more, and indeed at that season i was needed at the forest lodge. a pressing bidding had likewise come to ann; yet, albeit her much sitting in my grand-uncle's hot chamber had been visited on her with many a headache, she had made her attendance on him one of her duties and nought could move her to be unfaithful. moreover, it was known to us that by far the greater half of the venetian galleons had sailed from the lido between the 8th and 25th of the past month, and were due to be at home again by the middle of october or early in november. a much lesser fleet went forth from venice late in the year and came to anchor there again, loaded with spices, in the month of march or not later than april. hence now was the time when we might most surely look for tidings from the levant, and ann would not be out of the way in case any such might come to nuremberg. i rode forth on saint dionysius' day, the 9th day of october, alone with cousin maud; other guests were not long in following us and among them my brothers-in-law and the young loffelholz pair; elsa ebner having wed, some months since, with young jorg loffelholz. uncle christian would come later and, if she would consent, would bring ann with him, for he held himself bound to give his "little watchman" some fresh air. also he was a great friend in the pernharts' house, and aught more happy and pleasant than his talks with the old dame can scarce be conceived of. never had the well-beloved home in the forest been more like to a pigeon cote. every day brought us new guests, many of them from the city; still, none had any tidings yet of the venice ships or of our kunz, who should come home with them. and at this my heart quaked for fear, in despite of the hunting-sports, and of many a right merry supper; and aunt jacoba was no better. the weeks flew past, the red and yellow leaves began to fall, the scarlet berries of the mountain ash were shrivelled, and the white rime fell of nights on the meadows and moor-land. one day i had ridden forth with my uncle conrad, hawking, and when we came home in the dusk i could add a few birds to the gentlemen's booty. all the guests at that time present were standing in the courtyard talking, many a one lamenting or boasting of the spite or favor of saint hubert that day, when the hounds, who were smelling about the game, suddenly uplifted their voices, and the gate-keeper's horn blew a merry blast, as though to announce some right welcome guest. the housekeeper's face was seen at aunt jacoba's window, and so soon as tidings were brought of who it as that came, the dog-keeper's whips hastily silenced the hounds and drove them into the kennel. the servingmen carried off the game, and when the courtyard was presently cleared, behold, a strange procession came in. first a long wain covered in by a tilt so high i trove that meseemed many a town gate might be over low to let it pass; and it was drawn by four right small little horses, with dark matted coats and bright, wilful eyes. a few hounds of choice breed ran behind it. from within the hangings came a sharp, shrill screaming as were of many gaudy parrots. in front of this waggon two men rode, unlike in stature and mien, and a loutish fellow led the horses. now, we all knew this wain right well. heretofore, in the life-time of old lorenz waldstromer, the father of my uncle conrad, it had been wont to come hither once or twice a year, and was ever made welcome; if it should happen to come in the month of august it was at that season filled with noble falcons, to be placed on board ships at venice, inasmuch as the sultan of egypt and his emirs were so fain to buy them that they would give as much as a hundred and fifty sequins for he finest and best. old jordan kubbeling of brunswick, the father of he man who had now come hither, was wont to send the birds to alexandria by the hand of dealers, to sell them for him there; but his son seyfried, who was to this day called young kubbeling, albeit he was nigh on sixty, would carry his feathered wares thither himself. verily he was not suffered to sell any other goods in the land, inasmuch as the republic set strait bounds to the dealings of german traders. if such an one would have aught from the levant he may get it only through the merchants' hall or fondaco in venice; and much less is a german suffered to carry his wares, of what kind soever, out of venice into the east, inasmuch as every german trader is bound to sell by the hand of the syndicate all which his native land can produce or make in venice itself. and in no other wise may a german traffic in any matters, great or small, with the venice traders; and all this is done that the republic may lose nought of the great taxes they set on all things. as to seyfried kubbeling, the great council, by special grace, and considering that none but he could carry his birds over seas in good condition, had granted to him to go with them to the land of egypt. for many and many a year had the kubbelings brought falcons to the waldstromers, and whensoever my uncle needed such a bird, or if he had to provide one for our lord constable and prince elector the duke of bavaria, or any other great temporal or spiritual prince, it was to be had from seyfried--or young kubbeling. to be sure no man better knew where to choose a fine bird, and while he journeyed between brunswick, italy, and the levant, his sons and brothers went as far as to denmark, and from thence to iceland in the frozen seas, where the royal falcon breeds. yet are there right noble kinds likewise to be found in the harz mountains, nigh to their native country. the man who was ever kubbeling's fellow, going with him to the levant now, as, erewhile to the far north, was uhlwurm, who, albeit he had been old jordan's serving-man, was held by seyfried as his equal; and whoso would make one his guest must be fain to take the other into the bargain. this was ever gladly done at the forest-lodge; uhlwurm was a man of few words, and the hunting-lads and kennel-men held him to be a wise man, who knew more than simply which side his bread was buttered. at any rate he was learned in healing all sick creatures, and in especial falcons, horses, and hounds, by means of whispered spells, the breath of his mouth, potions, and electuaries; and i myself have seen him handle a furious old she-wolf which had been caught in a trap, so that no man dared go nigh her, as though it were a tame little dog. he was taller than his master by a head and a half, and he was ever to be seen in a hood, on which an owl's head with its beak and ears was set. verily the whole presence of the man minded me of that nightbird; and when i think of his master seyfried, or young kubbeling, i often remember that he was ever wont to wear three wild-cats' skins, which he laid on his breast and on each leg, as a remedy against pains he had. and the falcon-seller, who was thick-set and broad-shouldered, was in truth not unlike a wildcat in his unkempt shagginess, albeit free from all craft and guile. his whole mien, in his yellow leather jerkin slashed with green, his high boots, and ill-shaven face covered with short, grey bristles, was that of a woodsman who has grown strange to man in the forest wilds; howbeit we knew from many dealings that he was honest and pitiful, and would endure hard things to be serviceable and faithful to those few whom he truly loved. all the creatures he brought with him were for sale; even the iceland ponies, which he but seldom led home again, by reason that they were in great favor with the junkers and damsels of high degree in the castles where he found shelter; and my uncle believed that his profits and savings must be no small matter. scarce had kubbeling and his fellow entered the court-yard, when the house wife appeared once more at my aunt's window, and bid him come up forthwith to her mistress. but the brunswicker only replied roughly and shortly: "first those that need my help." and he spoke thus of a wounded man, whom he had picked up, nigh unto death, by the road-side. while, with uhlwurm's help, he carefully lifted the youth from under the tilt, my uncle, who had long been hoping for his advent, gave him a questioning look. the other understood, and shook his head sadly to answer him no. and then he busied himself with the stricken man, as he growled out to my uncle: "i crossed the pond to alexandria, but of your man--you know who-not a claw nor a feather. as to the schopper brothers on the other hand ....but first let us try to get between this poor fellow and the grave. hold on, uhlwurm!" and he was about to lift the sick man in doors. howbeit, i went up to the brunswicker, who in his rough wise had ever liked me well, and whereas meseemed he had seen my brothers, i besought him right lovingly to give me tidings of them; but he only pointed to the helpless man and said that such tidings as he had to give i should hear only too soon; and this i deemed was so forbidding and so dismal that i made up my mind to the worst; nay, and my fears waxed all the greater as he laid his big hand on my sleeve, as it might be to comfort me, inasmuch as that he had never yet done this save when he heard tell of my hans' untimely end. and then, since he would have none of my help in attending on the sick man, i ran up to my aunt to tell her with due care of the tidings i had heard; but my uncle had gone before me, and in the doorway i could see that he had just kissed his beloved wife's brow. i could read in both their faces that they were bereft of another hope, yet would my aunt go below and herself speak with young kubbeling. my uncle would fain have hindered her, but she paid no heed to his admonitions, and while her tiring-woman arrayed her with great care to appear at table, she thanked the saints for that ann was far away on this luckless day. thus the hours sped between our homecoming from the chase and the evening meal, and we presently met all our guests in the refectory. aunt jacoba, as was her wont, sat on her couch on which she was carried, at the upper end of the table near the chimneyplace, next to which a smaller table was spread, where kubbeling and uhlwurm took their seats as though they had never sat elsewhere in their lives; and in truth old jordan had taken his meals in that same place, and whenever they came to the lodge the serving people knew right well what was due to them and their fellows. and whereas they did not sit at the upper table, it was only by reason that old jordan, sixty years ago, had deemed it a burthensome honor, and more than his due; and young kubbeling would in all things do as his father had done before him. my seat was where i might see them, and an empty chair stood between me and my aunt; this was left for master ulsenius, the leech. this good man loved not to ride after dark, by reason of highway robbers and plunderers, and some of us were somewhat ill at ease at his coming so late. notwithstanding this, the talk was not other than cheerful; new guests had come to us from the town at noon, and they had much to tell. tidings had come that the sultan of egypt had fallen upon the island of cyprus, and that the mussulmans had beaten king janus, who ruled over it, and had carried him beyond seas in triumph to old cairo, a prisoner and loaded with chains. hereupon we were instructed by that learned man, master eberhard windecke, who was well-read in the history of all the world--he had come to nuremberg as a commissioner of finance from his majesty, and uncle tucher had brought him forth to the forest-he, i say, instructed us that the forefather of this king janus of cyprus had seized upon the crown of jerusalem at the time of the crusades, during the lifetime of the mighty sultan saladin, by poison and perjury, and had then bartered it with the english monarch richard coeur de lion, in exchange for the kingdom of cyprus. that ancestor of king janus was by name guy de lusignan, and the sins of the fathers, so master windecke set forth with flowers of eloquence, were ever visited on the children, unto the third and fourth generation. i, like most of the assembled company, had hearkened with due respect to this discourse; yet had i not failed to note with what restless eyes my aunt watched the two men when, after hardly staying their hunger and thirst, they forthwith quitted the hall to tend the sick man; she truly --as i would likewise--would rather have heard some present tidings than this record of sins of the lusignans dead and gone. presently the two men came back to their seats, and when master windecke, who, in speaking, had forgotten to eat, fell to with double good will, uncle conrad gravely bid kubbeling to out with what he had to say; and yet the man, who was lifting the leg of a black-cock to his mouth, would reply no more than a rough, "all in good time, my lord." thus we had to wait; nor was it till the brunswicker had cracked his last nut with his strong teeth, and the evening cup had been brought round, that he broke silence and told us in short, halting sentences how he had sailed from venice to alexandria in the land of egypt, and all that had befallen his falcons. then he stopped, as one who has ended his tale, and uhlwurm said in a deep voice, and with a sweep of his hand as though to clear the crumbs from the table "gone!"--and that "gone" was well-nigh the only word that ever i heard from the lips of that strange old man. as he went on with his tale kubbeling made free with the wine, and albeit it had no more effect on him than clear water, still meseemed he talked on for his own easement; only when he told how and where he had vainly sought the banished gotz he looked grievously at my aunt's face. and kunz, who had crossed the sea in the same ship with him, had helped him in that search. when i then asked him whether kunz had not likewise come home with him to venice, and kubbeling had answered me no, uhlwurm said once more, or ever his master had done speaking, "gone!" in his deep, mournful voice, and again swept away crumbs, as it might be, in the air. hereupon so great a fear fell upon me that meseemed a sharp steel bodkin was being thrust into my heart; but kubbeling had seen me turn pale, and he turned upon uhlwurm in high wrath, and to the end that i might take courage he cried: "no, no, i say no. what does the old fool know about it! it is only by reason that the galley tarried for junker schopper and weighed anchor half a day later, that he forbodes ill. the delay was not needed. and who can tell what young masters will be at? they get a fancy in their green young heads, and it must be carried out whether or no. he swore to me with a high and solemn oath that he would not rest till he had found some trace of his brother, and if he kept the galleon waiting for that reason, what wonder? is it aught to marvel at? and you, mistress margery, have of a surety known here in the forest whither a false scent may lead.--junker kunz! whither he may have gone to seek his brother, who can tell? not i, and much less uhlwurm. and young folks flutter hither and thither like an untrained falcon; and if master kunz, who is so much graver and wiser than others of his green youth, finds no one to open his eyes, then he may--i do not say for certain, but peradventure, for why should i frighten you all?--he may, i say, hunt high and low to all eternity. the late junker herdegen. . . ." and again i felt that sharp pang through my heart, and i cried in the anguish of my soul: "the late junker--late junker, did you say? how came you to use such a word? by all you hold sacred, kubbeling, torture me no more. confess all you know concerning my elder brother!" this i cried out with a quaking voice, but all too soon was i speechless again, for once more that dreadful "gone!" fell upon my ear from uhlwurm's lips. i hid my face in my hands, and sitting thus in darkness, i heard the bird-dealer, in real grief now, repeat uhlwurm's word of ill-omen: "gone." yet he presently added in a tone of comfort: "but only perchance--not for certain, mistress margery." albeit he was now willing to tell more, he was stopped in the very act. neither he nor i had seen that some one had silently entered the hall with my uncle christian and master ulsenius, had come close to us, and had heard uhlwurm's and kubbeling's last words. this was ann; and, as she answered to the brunswicker "i would you were in the right with that 'perchance'. how gladly would i believe it!" i took my hands down from my face, and behold she stood before me in all her beauty, but in deep mourning black, and was now, as i was, an unwedded widow. i ran to meet her, and now, as she clung to me first and then to my aunt, she was so moving a spectacle that even uhlwurm wiped his wet cheeks with his finger-cloth. all were now silent, but young kubbeling ceased not from wiping the sweat of anguish from his brow, till at last he cried: "'perchance' was what i said, and 'perchance' it still shall be; aye, by the help of the saints, and i will prove it. . . ." at this ann uplifted her bead, which she had hidden in my aunt's bosom, and cousin maud let drop her arms in which she held me clasped. the learned master windecke made haste to depart, as he could ill-endure such touching matters, while uncle conrad enquired of ann what she had heard of herdegen's end. hereupon she told us all in a low voice that yestereve she had received a letter from my lord cardinal, announcing that he had evil tidings from the christian brethren in egypt. she was to hold herself ready for the worst, inasmuch as, if they were right, great ill had befallen him. howbeit it was not yet time to give up all hope, and he himself would never weary of his search: young kubbeling, who had meanwhile sent uhlwurm with the leech to see the sick man and then taken his seat again with the wine-cup before him, had nevertheless kept one ear open, and had hearkened like the rest to what ann had been saying; then on a sudden he thrust away his glass, shook his big fist in wrath, and cried out, to the door, as it were, through which uhlwurm had departed, "that croaker, that death-watch, that bird of ill-omen! if he looks up at an apple-tree in blossom and a bird is piping in the branches, all he thinks of is how soon the happy creature will be killed by the cat! 'gone! gone' indeed; what profits it to say gone! he has befogged even my brain at last with his black vapors. but now a light shines within me; and lend me an ear, young mistress, and all you worshipful lords and ladies; for i said 'perchance' and i mean it still." we listened indeed; and there was in his voice and mien a confidence which could not fail to give us heart. my lord cardinal's assurance that we were not to rest satisfied with the evil tidings he had received, kubbeling had deemed right, and what was right was to him a fact. therefore had he racked his brain till the sweat stood on his brow, and all he had ever known concerning herdegen had come back to his mind and this he now told us in his short, rude way, which i should in vain try to set down. he said that, since the day when they had landed in egypt, he had never more set eyes on kunz, but that he himself had made enquiry for herdegen. anselmo giustiniani was still the republic's consul there, and lodging at the venice fondaco with ursula his wife; but the serving men had said that they had never heard of schopper of nuremberg; nor was it strange that kunz's coming should be unknown to them, inasmuch as, to be far from ursula, he had found hospitality with the genoese and not with the venetians. when, on the eve of sailing for home, the brunswicker had again waited on the authorities at the fondaco, to procure his leave to depart and fetch certain moneys he had bestowed there, he had met mistress ursula; and whereas she knew him and spoke to him, he seized the chance to make enquiry concerning herdegen. and it was from her mouth, and from none other, that he had learned that the elder junker schopper had met a violent death; and, when he had asked where and how, she had answered him that it was in one of those love-makings which were ever the aim and business of his life. thus he might tell all his kith and kin in nuremberg henceforth to cease their spying and prying, which had already cost her more pains and writing than enough. this discourse had but ill-pleased kubbeling, yet had he not taken it amiss, and had only said that she would be doing kunz--who had come to egypt with him--right good service, if she would give him more exact tidings of how his brother had met his end. "whereupon," said the bird-seller, "she gave me a look the like of which not many could give; for inasmuch as the lady is, for certain, over eyes and ears in love with junker kunz......" but i stopped him, and said that in this he was of a certainty mistaken; howbeit he laughed shortly and went on. "which of us saw her? i or you? but love or no love--only listen till the end. mistress ursula for sure knew not till then that junker kunz was in alexandria, and so soon as she learnt it she began to question me. she must know the day and hour when he had cast anchor there, wherefor he had chosen to lodge in the genoa fondaco, when i last had seen him, nay, and of what stuff and color his garments were made. she went through them all, from the feather in his hat to his hose. as for me, i must have seemed well nigh half witted, and i told her at last that i had no skill in such matters, but that i had ever seen him of an evening in a white mantle with a peaked hood. hereupon the blood all left her face, and with it all her beauty. she clapped her hand to her forehead like one possessed or in a fit, as though caught in her own snare, and she would have fallen, if i had not held her upright. and then, on a sudden, she stood firm on her feet, bid me depart right roughly, and pointed to the door; and i was ready and swift enough in departing. when i was telling of all this to uhlwurm, who had stayed without, and what i had heard concerning junker herdegen, he had nought to say but that accursed 'gone!' and how that dazes me, old mole that i am, you yourselves have seen. but the demeanor of mistress tetzel of nuremberg, i have never had it out of my mind since, day or night, nor again, yesterday." he rubbed his damp brow, drank a draught, and took a deep breath; he was not wont to speak at such length. but whereas we asked him many questions of these matters, he turned again to us maidens, and said "grant me a few words apart from the matter you see, in time a man gets an eye for a falcon, and sees what its good points are, and if it ails aught. he learns to know the breed by its feathers, and breastbone, and the color of its legs, and many another sign, and its temper by its eye and beak;--and it is the same with knowing of men. all this i learned not of myself, but from my father, god rest him; and like as you may know a falcon by the beak, so you may know a man or a woman by the mouth. and as i mind me of mistress ursula's face, as i saw it then, that is enough for me. aye, and i will give my best iceland gerfalcon for a lame crow if every word she spoke concerning the death of junker herdegen was not false knavery. she is a goodly woman and of wondrous beauty; yet, as i sat erewhile, thinking and gazing into the wurzburg wine in my cup, i remembered her red lips and white teeth, as she bid me exhort his kin at home to seek the lost man no more. and i will plainly declare what that mouth brought to my mind; nought else than the muzzle of the she-wolf you caught and chained up. that was how she showed her tusks when uhlwurm wheedled her after his wise, and she feigned to be his friend albeit she thirsted to take him by the throat.--false, i say, false, false was every word that came to my ears out of that mouth! i know what i know; she is mad for the sake of one of the schoppers, and if it be not kunz then it is the other, and if it be not with love then it is with hate. make the sign of the cross, say i; she would put one or both of them out of the world, as like as not. for certain it is that she would fain have had me believe that the elder junker schopper had already come to a bad end, and it is no less certain that she had some foul purpose in hand." the old man coughed, wiped his brow, and fell back in his seat; we, indeed, knew not what to think of his discourse, and looked one at the other with enquiry. jung kubbeling was the last man on earth we could have weened would read hearts. only uncle christian upheld him, and declared that the future would ere long confirm all that wise old jordan's son had foretold from sure signs. the dispute waxed so loud that even our silent chaplain put in his word, to express his consent to the brunswicker's opinion of ursula, and to put forward fresh proofs why, in spite of her statement, herdegen might yet be in the land of the living. at this moment the door flew open, and the housekeeper--who was wont to be a right sober-witted widow--rushed into the refectory, followed by my aunt's waiting-maid, both with crimson cheeks and so full of their matter that they forgot the reverence due to our worshipful guests, and it was hard at first to learn what had so greatly disturbed them. so soon as this was clear, cousin maud, and ann and i at her heels, ran off to the chamber where master ulsenius still tarried with the sick traveller, inasmuch as that if the women were not deceived, the poor fellow was none other than eppelein, herdegen's faithful henchman. the tiringwoman likewise, a smart young wench, believed that it was he; and her opinion was worthy to be trusted by reason that she was one of the many maids who had looked upon eppelein with favor. we presently were standing by the lad's bedside; master ulsenius had just done with bandaging his head and body and arms; the poor fellow had been indeed cruelly handled, and but for the brunswicker's help he must have died. that kubbeling should not have known him, although they had often met in past years, was easy to explain; for i myself could scarce have believed that the pale, hollow-eyed man who lay there, to all seeming dying, was our brisk and nimble-witted eppelein. yet verily he it was, and ann flung herself on her knees by the bed, and it was right piteous to hear her cry: "poor, faithful eppelein!" and many other good words in low and loving tones. yet did he not hear nor understand, inasmuch as he was not in his senses. for the present there was nought of tidings to be had from him, and this was all the greater pity by reason that the thieves had stripped off his clothes, even to his boots, and thus, if he were the bearer of any writing, he might now never deliver it. yet he had come with some message. when the men left us there ann bent over him and laid a wet kerchief on his hot head, and he presently opened his eyes a little way, and pointed with his left hand, which was sound, to the end of the bed-place where his feet lay, and murmured, scarce to be heard and as though he were lost: "the letter, oh, the letter!" but then he lost his senses; and presently he said the same words again and again. so his heart and brain were full of one thing, and that was the letter which some one--and who else than his well-beloved master--had straitly charged him to deliver rightly. every word he might speak in his fever might give us some important tidings, and when at midnight my aunt bid us go to bed, ann declared it to be her purpose to keep watch by eppelein all night, and i would not for the world have quitted her at such a moment. and whereas she well knew master ulsenius, and had already lent a helping hand of her own free will to old uhlwurm, the tending the sick man was wholly given over to her; and i sat me down by the fire, gazing sometimes at the leaping flames and flying sparks, and sometimes at the sick-bed and at all ann was doing. then i waxed sleepy, and the hours flew past while i sat wide awake, or dreaming as i slept for a few minutes. then it was morning again, and there was somewhat before my eyes whereof i knew not whether it were happening in very truth, or whether it were still a dream, yet meseemed it was so pleasant that i was still smiling when the housekeeper came in, and that chased sleep away. i thought i had seen ann lead ugly old uhlwurm to the window, and stroke down his rough cheeks with her soft small hand. this being all unlike her wonted timid modesty, it amused me all the more, and the old man's demeanor likewise had made me smile; he was surly, and notwithstanding courteous to her and had said to her i know not what. now, when i was wide-awake, ann had indeed departed, and the house-wife had seen her quit the house and walk towards the stables, following old uhlwurm. hereupon a strange unrest fell upon me, and when kubbeling presently answered to my questioning that old uhlwurm had craved leave to be absent till noon, to the end that he might go to the very spot where they had found eppelein, and make search for that letter which he doubtless had had on his person, i plainly saw wherefor ann had beguiled the old man. etext editor's bookmarks: forty or fifty, when most women only begin to be wicked shadow which must ever fall where there is light woman who might win the love of a highly-gifted soul (pays for it) this ebook was produced by david widger <widger@cecomet.net> [note: there is a short list of bookmarks, or pointers, at the end of the file for those who may wish to sample the author's ideas before making an entire meal of them. d.w.] the sisters by georg ebers volume 2. chapter vii. in the very midst of the white wall with its bastions and ramparts, which formed the fortifications of memphis, stood the old palace of the kings, a stately structure built of bricks, recently plastered, and with courts, corridors, chambers and halls without number, and veranda-like outbuildings of gayly-painted wood, and a magnificent pillared banquetinghall in the greek style. it was surrounded by verdurous gardens, and a whole host of laborers tended the flower-beds and shady alleys, the shrubs and the trees; kept the tanks clean and fed the fish in them; guarded the beast-garden, in which quadrupeds of every kind, from the heavy-treading elephant to the light-footed antelope, were to be seen, associated with birds innumerable of every country and climate. a light white vapor rose from the splendidly fitted bath-house, loud barkings resounded from the dog-kennels, and from the long array of open stables came the neighing of horses with the clatter and stamp of hoofs, and the rattle of harness and chains. a semicircular building of new construction adjoining the old palace was the theatre, and many large tents for the bodyguard, for ambassadors and scribes, as well as others, serving as banqueting-halls for the various court-officials, stood both within the garden and outside its enclosing walls. a large space leading from the city itself to the royal citadel was given up to the soldiers, and there, by the side of the shady court-yards, were the houses of the police-guard and the prisons. other soldiers were quartered in tents close to the walls of the palace itself. the clatter of their arms and the words of command, given in greek, by their captain, sounded out at this particular instant, and up into the part of the buildings occupied by the queen; and her apartments were high up, for in summer time cleopatra preferred to live in airy tents, which stood among the broadleaved trees of the south and whole groves of flowering shrubs, on the level roof of the palace, which was also lavishly decorated with marble statues. there was only one way of access to this retreat, which was fitted up with regal splendor; day and night it was fanned by currents of soft air, and no one could penetrate uninvited to disturb the queen's retirement, for veteran guards watched at the foot of the broad stair that led to the roof, chosen from the macedonian "garde noble," and owing as implicit obedience to cleopatra as to the king himself. this select corps was now, at sunset, relieving guard, and the queen could hear the words spoken by the officers in command and the clatter of the shields against the swords as they rattled on the pavement, for she had come out of her tent into the open air, and stood gazing towards the west, where the glorious hues of the sinking sun flooded the bare, yellow limestone range of the libyan hills, with their innumerable tombs and the separate groups of pyramids; while the wonderful coloring gradually tinged with rose-color the light silvery clouds that hovered in the clear sky over the valley of memphis, and edged them as with a rile of living gold. the queen stepped out of her tent, accompanied by a young greek girl--the fair zoe, daughter of her master of the hunt zenodotus, and cleopatra's favorite lady-in-waiting--but though she looked towards the west, she stood unmoved by the magic of the glorious scene before her; she screened her eyes with her hand to shade them from the blinding rays, and said: "where can cornelius be staying! when we mounted our chariots before the temple he had vanished, and as far as i can see the road in the quarters of sokari and serapis i cannot discover his vehicle, nor that of eulaeus who was to accompany him. it is not very polite of him to go off in this way without taking leave; nay, i could call it ungrateful, since i had proposed to tell him on our way home all about my brother euergetes, who has arrived to-day with his friends. they are not yet acquainted, for euergetes was living in cyrene when publius cornelius scipio landed in alexandria. stay! do you see a black shadow out there by the vineyard at kakem; that is very likely he; but no--you are right, it is only some birds, flying in a close mass above the road. can you see nothing more? no!--and yet we both have sharp young eyes. i am very curious to know whether publius scipio will like euergetes. there can hardly be two beings more unlike, and yet they have some very essential points in common." "they are both men," interrupted zoe, looking at the queen as if she expected cordial assent to this proposition. "so they are," said cleopatra proudly. "my brother is still so young that, if he were not a king's son, he would hardly have outgrown the stage of boyhood, and would be a lad among other epheboi,--[youths above 18 were so called]--and yet among the oldest there is hardly a man who is his superior in strength of will and determined energy. already, before i married philometor, he had clutched alexandria and cyrene, which by right should belong to my husband, who is the eldest of us three, and that was not very brotherly conduct--and indeed we had other grounds for being angry with him; but when i saw him again for the first time after nine months of separation i was obliged to forget them all, and welcome him as though he had done nothing but good to me and his brother--who is my husband, as is the custom of the families of pharaohs and the usage of our race. he is a young titan, and no one would be astonished if he one day succeeded in piling pelion upon ossa. i know well enough how wild he can often be, how unbridled and recalcitrant beyond all bounds; but i can easily pardon him, for the same bold blood flows in my own veins, and at the root of all his excesses lies power, genuine and vigorous power. and this innate pith and power are just the very thing we most admire in men, for it is the one gift which the gods have dealt out to us with a less liberal hand than to men. life indeed generally dams its overflowing current, but i doubt whether this will be the case with the stormy torrent of his energy; at any rate men such as he is rush swiftly onwards, and are strong to the end, which sooner or later is sure to overtake them; and i infinitely prefer such a wild torrent to a shallow brook flowing over a plain, which hurts no one, and which in order to prolong its life loses itself in a misty bog. he, if any one, may be forgiven for his tumultuous career; for when he pleases my brother's great qualities charm old and young alike, and are as conspicuous and as remarkable as his faults--nay, i will frankly say his crimes. and who in greece or egypt surpasses him in grasp and elevation of mind?" you may well be proud of him," replied zoe. not even publius scipio himself can soar to the height reached by euergetes." "but, on the other hand, euergetes is not gifted with the steady, calm self-reliance of cornelius. the man who should unite in one person the good qualities of those two, need yield the palm, as it seems to me, not even to a god!" "among us imperfect mortals he would indeed be the only perfect one," replied zoe. "but the gods could not endure the existence of a perfect man, for then they would have to undertake the undignified task of competing with one of their own creatures." "here, however, comes one whom no one can accuse!" cried the young queen, as she hastened to meet a richly dressed woman, older than herself, who came towards her leading her son, a pale child of two years old. she bent down to the little one, tenderly but with impetuous eagerness, and was about to clasp him in her arms, but the fragile child, which at first had smiled at her, was startled; he turned away from her and tried to hide his little face in the dress of his nurse--a lady of rank-to whom he clung with both hands. the queen threw herself on her knees before him, took hold of his shoulder, and partly by coaxing and partly by insistence strove to induce him to quit the sheltering gown and to turn to her; but although the lady, his wet-nurse, seconded her with kind words of encouragement, the terrified child began to cry, and resisted his mother's caresses with more and more vehemence the more passionately she tried to attract and conciliate him. at last the nurse lifted him up, and was about to hand him to his mother, but the wilful little boy cried more than before, and throwing his arms convulsively round his nurse's neck he broke into loud cries. in the midst of this rather unbecoming struggle of the mother against the child's obstinacy, the clatter of wheels and of horses' hoofs rang through the court-yard of the palace, and hardly had the sound reached the queen's ears than she turned away from the screaming child, hurried to the parapet of the roof, and called out to zoe: "publius scipio is here; it is high time that i should dress for the banquet. will that naughty child not listen to me at all? take him away, praxinoa, and understand distinctly that i am much dissatisfied with you. you estrange my own child from me to curry favor with the future king. that is base, or else it proves that you have no tact, and are incompetent for the office entrusted to you. the office of wet-nurse you duly fulfilled, but i shall now look out for another attendant for the boy. do not answer me! no tears! i have had enough of that with the child's screaming." with these words, spoken loudly and passionately, she turned her back on praxinoa--the wife of a distinguished macedonian noble, who stood as if petrified--and retired into her tent, where branched lamps had just been placed on little tables of elegant workmanship. like all the other furniture in the queen's dressing-tent these were made of gleaming ivory, standing out in fine relief from the tent-cloth which was sky-blue woven with silver lilies and ears of corn, and from the tiger-skins which covered all the cushions, while white woollen carpets, bordered with a waving scroll in blue, were spread on the ground. the queen threw herself on a seat in front of her dressing-table, and sat staring at herself in a mirror, as if she now saw her face and her abundant, reddish-fair hair for the first time; then she said, half turning to zoe and half to her favorite athenian waiting-maid, who stood behind her with her other women: "it was folly to dye my dark hair light; but now it may remain so, for publius scipio, who has no suspicion of our arts, thought this color pretty and uncommon, and never will know its origin. that egyptian headdress with the vulture's head which the king likes best to see me in, the young greek lysias and the roman too, call barbaric, and so every one must call it who is not interested in the egyptians. but to-night we are only ourselves, so i will wear the chaplet of golden corn with sapphire grapes. do you think, zoe, that with that i could wear the dress of transparent bombyx silk that came yesterday from cos? but no, i will not wear that, for it is too slight a tissue, it hides nothing and i am now too thin for it to become me. all the lines in my throat show, and my elbows are quite sharp--altogether i am much thinner. that comes of incessant worry, annoyance, and anxiety. how angry i was yesterday at the council, because my husband will always give way and agree and try to be pleasant; whenever a refusal is necessary i have to interfere, unwilling as i am to do it, and odious as it is to me always to have to stir up discontent, disappointment, and disaffection, to take things on myself and to be regarded as hard and heartless in order that my husband may preserve undiminished the doubtful glory of being the gentlest and kindest of men and princes. my son's having a will of his own leads to agitating scenes, but even that is better than that philopator should rush into everybody's arms. the first thing in bringing up a boy should be to teach him to say 'no.' i often say 'yes' myself when i should not, but i am a woman, and yielding becomes us better than refusal--and what is there of greater importance to a woman than to do what becomes her best, and to seem beautiful? "i will decide on this pale dress, and put over it the net-work of gold thread with sapphire knots; that will go well with the head-dress. take care with your comb, thais, you are hurting me! now--i must not chatter any more. zoe, give me the roll yonder; i must collect my thoughts a little before i go down to talk among men at the banquet. when we have just come from visiting the realm of death and of serapis, and have been reminded of the immortality of the soul and of our lot in the next world, we are glad to read through what the most estimable of human thinkers has said concerning such things. begin here, zoe." cleopatra's companion, thus addressed, signed to the unoccupied waitingwomen to withdraw, seated herself on a low cushion opposite the queen, and began to read with an intelligent and practised intonation; the reading went on for some time uninterrupted by any sound but the clink of metal ornaments, the rustle of rich stuffs, the trickle of oils or perfumes as they were dropped into the crystal bowls, the short and whispered questions of the women who were attiring the queen, or cleopatra's no less low and rapid answers. all the waiting-women not immediately occupied about the queen's person-perhaps twenty in all, young and old-ranged themselves along the sides of the great tent, either standing or sitting on the ground or on cushions, and awaiting the moment when it should be their turn to perform some service, as motionless as though spellbound by the mystical words of a magician. they only made signs to each other with their eyes and fingers, for they knew that the queen did not choose to be disturbed when she was being read to, and that she never hesitated to cast aside anything or anybody that crossed her wishes or inclinations, like a tight shoe or a broken lutestring. her features were irregular and sharp, her cheekbones too strongly developed, and the lips, behind which her teeth gleamed pearly whitethough too widely set--were too full; still, so long as she exerted her great powers of concentration, and listened with flashing eyes, like those of a prophetess, and parted lips to the words of plato, her face had worn an indescribable glow of feeling, which seemed to have come upon her from a higher and better world, and she had looked far more beautiful than now when she was fully dressed, and when her women crowded round leer--zoe having laid aside the plato--with loud and unmeasured flattery. cleopatra delighted in being thus feted, and, in order to enjoy the adulation of a throng, she would always when dressing have a great number of women to attend her toilet; mirrors were held up to her on every side, a fold set right, and the jewelled straps of her sandals adjusted. one praised the abundance of her hair, another the slenderness of her form, the slimness of her ankles, and the smallness of her tiny hands and feet. one maiden remarked to another--but loud enough to be heard-on the brightness of her eyes which were clearer than the sapphires on her brow, while the athenian waiting-woman, thais, declared that cleopatra had grown fatter, for her golden belt was less easy to clasp than it had been ten days previously. the queen presently signed to zoe, who threw a little silver ball into a bowl of the same metal, elaborately wrought and decorated, and in a few minutes the tramp of the body-guard was audible outside the door of the tent. cleopatra went out, casting a rapid glance over the roof--now brightly illuminated with cressets and torches--and the white marble statues that gleamed out in relief against the dark clumps of shrubs; and then, without even looking at the tent where her children were asleep, she approached the litter, which had been brought up to the roof for her by the young macedonian nobles. zoe and thais assisted her to mount into it, and her ladies, waiting-women, and others who had hurried out of the other tents, formed a row on each side of the way, and hailed their mistress with loud cries of admiration and delight as she passed by, lifted high above them all on the shoulders of her bearers. the diamonds in the handle of her feather-fan sparkled brightly as cleopatra waved a gracious adieu to her women, an adieu which did not fail to remind them how infinitely beneath her were those she greeted. every movement of her hand was full of regal pride, and her eyes, unveiled and untempered, were radiant with a young woman's pleasure in a perfect toilet, with satisfaction in her own person, and with the anticipation of the festive hours before her. the litter disappeared behind the door of the broad steps that led up to the roof, and thais, sighing softly, said to herself, "if only for once i could ride through the air in just such a pretty shell of colored and shining mother-of-pearl, like a goddess! carried aloft by young men, and hailed and admired by all around me! high up there the growing selene floats calmly and silently by the tiny stars, and just so did she ride past in her purple robe with her torch-bearers and flames and lights-past us humble creatures, and between the tents to the banquet--and to what a banquet, and what guests! everything up here greets her with rejoicing, and i could almost fancy that among those still marble statues even the stern face of zeno had parted its lips, and spoken flattering words to her. and yet poor little zoe, and the fair-haired lysippa, and the black-haired daughter of demetrius, and even i, poor wretch, should be handsomer, far handsomer than she, if we could dress ourselves with fine clothes and jewels for which kings would sell their kingdoms; if we could play aphrodite as she does, and ride off in a shell borne aloft on emerald-green glass to look as if it were floating on the waves; if dolphins set with pearls and turquoises served us for a footstool, and white ostrich-plumes floated over our heads, like the silvery clouds that float over athens in the sky of a fine spring day. the transparent tissue that she dared not put on would well become me! if only that were true which zoe was reading yesterday, that the souls of men were destined to visit the earth again and again in new forms! then perhaps mine might some day come into the world in that of a king's child. i should not care to be a prince, so much is expected of him, but a princess indeed! that would be lovely!" these and such like were thais' dreams, while zoe stood outside the tent of the royal children with her cousin, the chief-attendant of prince philopator, carrying on an eager conversation in a low tone. the child's nurse from time to time dried her eyes and sobbed bitterly as she said: "my own baby, my other children, my husband and our beautiful house in alexandria--i left them all to suckle and rear a prince. i have sacrificed happiness, freedom, and my nights'-sleep for the sake of the queen and of this child, and how am i repaid for all this? as if i were a lowborn wench instead of the daughter and wife of noble men; this woman, half a child still, scarcely yet nineteen, dismisses me from her service before you and all her ladies every ten days! and why? because the ungoverned blood of her race flows in her son's veins, and because he does not rush into the arms of a mother who for days does not ask for him at all, and never troubles herself about him but in some idle moment when she has gratified every other whim. princes distribute favor or disgrace with justice only so long as they are children. the little one understands very well what i am to him, and sees what cleopatra is. if i could find it in my heart to ill-use him in secret, this mother--who is not fit to be a mother--would soon have her way. hard as it would be to me so soon to leave the poor feeble little child, who has grown as dear to my soul as my own--aye and closer, even closer, as i may well say--this time i will do it, even at the risk of cleopatra's plunging us into ruin, my husband and me, as she has done to so many who have dared to contravene her will." the wet-nurse wept aloud, but zoe laid her hand on the distressed woman's shoulder, and said soothingly: "i know you have more to submit to from cleopatra's humors than any of us all, but do not be overhasty. tomorrow she will send you a handsome present, as she so often has done after being unkind; and though she vexes and hurts you again and again, she will try to make up for it again and again till, when this year is over, your attendance on the prince will be at an end, and you can go home again to your own family. we all have to practise patience; we live like people dwelling in a ruinous house with to-day a stone and to-morrow a beam threatening to fall upon our heads. if we each take calmly whatever befalls us our masters try to heal our wounds, but if we resist may the gods have mercy on us! for cleopatra is like a strung bow, which sets the arrow flying as soon as a child, a mouse, a breath of air even touches it--like an over-full cup which brims over if a leaf, another drop, a single tear falls into it. we should, any one of us, soon be worn out by such a life, but she needs excitement, turmoil and amusement at every hour. she comes home late from a feast, spends barely six hours in disturbed slumber, and has hardly rested so long as it takes a pebble to fall to the ground from a crane's claw before we have to dress her again for another meal. from the council-board she goes to hear some learned discourse, from her books in the temple to sacrifice and prayer, from the sanctuary to the workshops of artists, from pictures and statues to the audience-chamber, from a reception of her subjects and of foreigners to her writing-room, from answering letters to a procession and worship once more, from the sacred services back again to her dressing-tent, and there, while she is being attired she listens to me while i read the most profound works--and how she listens! not a word escapes her, and her memory retains whole sentences. amid all this hurry and scurry her spirit must need be like a limb that is sore from violent exertion, and that is painfully tender to every rough touch. we are to her neither more nor less than the wretched flies which we hit at when they trouble us, and may the gods be merciful to those on whom this queen's hand may fall! euergetes cleaves with the sword all that comes in his way. cleopatra stabs with the dagger, and her hand wields the united power of her own might and of her yielding husband's. do not provoke her. submit to what you cannot avert; just as i never complain when, if i make a mistake in reading, she snatches the book from my hand, or flings it at my feet. but i, of course, have only myself to fear for, and you have your husband and children as well." praxinoa bowed her head at these words in sad assent, and said: "thank you for those words! i always think only from my heart, and you mostly from your head. you are right, this time again there is nothing for me to do but to be patient; but when i have fulfilled the duties here, which i undertook, and am at home again, i will offer a great sacrifice to asclepias and hygiea, like a person recovered from a severe illness; and one thing i know: that i would rather be a poor girl, grinding at a mill, than change with this rich and adored queen who, in order to enjoy her life to the utmost, carelessly and restlessly hurries past all that our mortal lot has best to offer. terrible, hideous to me seems such an existence with no rest in it! and the heart of a mother which is so much occupied with other things that she cannot win the love of her child, which blossoms for every hired nurse, must be as waste as the desert! rather would i endure anything--everything--with patience than be such a queen!" chapter viii. "what! no one to come to meet me?" asked the queen, as she reached the foot of the last flight of porphyry steps that led into the ante-chamber to the banqueting-hall, and, looking round, with an ominous glance, at the chamberlains who had accompanied her, she clinched her small fist. "i arrive and find no one here!" the "no one" certainly was a figure of speech, since more than a hundred body-guards-macedonians in rich array of arms-and an equal number of distinguished court-officials were standing on the marble flags of the vast hall, which was surrounded by colonnades, while the star-spangled night-sky was all its roof; and the court-attendants were all men of rank, dignified by the titles of fathers, brothers, relatives, friends and chief-friends of the king. these all received the queen with a many-voiced "hail!" but not one of them seemed worthy of cleopatra's notice. this crowd was less to her than the air we breathe in order to live--a mere obnoxious vapor, a whirl of dust which the traveller would gladly avoid, but which he must nevertheless encounter in order to proceed on his way. the queen had expected that the few guests, invited by her selection and that of her brother euergetes to the evening's feast, would have welcomed her here at the steps; she thought they would have seen her--as she felt herself--like a goddess borne aloft in her shell, and that she might have exulted in the admiring astonishment of the roman and of lysias, the corinthian: and now the most critical instant in the part she meant to play that evening had proved a failure, and it suggested itself to her mind that she might be borne back to her roof-tent, and be floated down once more when she was sure of the presence of the company. but there was one thing she dreaded more even than pain and remorse, and that was any appearance of the ridiculous; so she only commanded the bearers to stand still, and while the master of the ceremonies, waiving his dignity, hurried off to announce to her husband that she was approaching, she signed to the nobles highest in rank to approach, that she might address a few gracious words to them, with distant amiability. only a few however, for the doors of thyia wood leading into the banqueting hall itself, presently opened, and the king with his friends came forward to meet cleopatra. "how were we to expect you so early?" cried philometor to his wife. "is it really still early?" asked the queen, "or have i only taken you by surprise, because you had forgotten to expect me?" "how unjust you are!" replied the king. "must you now be told that, come as early as you will, you always come too late for my desires." "but for ours," cried lysias, "neither too early nor too late, but at the very right time--like returning health and happiness, or the victor's crown." "health as taking the place of sickness?" asked cleopatra, and her eyes sparkled keenly and merrily. "i perfectly understand lysias," said publius, intercepting the greek. "once, on the field of mars, i was flung from my horse, and had to lie for weeks on my couch, and i know that there is no more delightful sensation than that of feeling our departed strength returning as we recover. he means to say that in your presence we must feel exceptionally well." "nay rather," interrupted lysias, "our queen seems to come to us like returning health, since so long as she was not in our midst we felt suffering and sick for longing. thy presence, cleopatra, is the most effectual remedy, and restores us to our lost health." cleopatra politely lowered her fan, as if in thanks, thus rapidly turning the stick of it in her hand, so as to make the diamonds that were set in it sparkle and flash. then she turned to the friends, and said: "your words are most amiable, and your different ways of expressing your meaning remind me of two gems set in a jewel, one of which sparkles because it is skilfully cut, and reflects every light from its mirrorlike facets, while the other shines by its genuine and intrinsic fire. the genuine and the true are one, and the egyptians have but one word for both, and your kind speech, my scipio--but i may surely venture to call you publius--your kind speech, my publius seems to me to be truer than that of your accomplished friend, which is better adapted to vainer ears than mine. pray, give me your hand." the shell in which she was sitting was gently lowered, and, supported by publius and her husband, the queen alighted and entered the banquetinghall, accompanied by her guests. as soon as the curtains were closed, and when cleopatra had exchanged a few whispered words with her husband, she turned again to the roman, who had just been joined by eulaeus, and said: "you have come from athens, publius, but you do not seem to have followed very closely the courses of logic there, else how could it be that you, who regard health as the highest good--that you, who declared that you never felt so well as in my presence--should have quitted me so promptly after the procession, and in spite of our appointment? may i be allowed to ask what business--" "our noble friend," answered eulaeus, bowing low, but not allowing the queen to finish her speech, "would seem to have found some particular charm in the bearded recluses of serapis, and to be seeking among them the key-stone of his studies at athens." "in that he is very right," said the queen. "for from them he can learn to direct his attention to that third division of our existence, concerning which least is taught in athens--i mean the future--" "that is in the hands of the gods," replied the roman. "it will come soon enough, and i did not discuss it with the anchorite. eulaeus may be informed that, on the contrary, everything i learned from that singular man in the serapeum bore reference to the things of the past." "but how can it be possible," said eulaeus, "that any one to whom cleopatra had offered her society should think so long of anything else than the beautiful present?" "you indeed have good reason," retorted publius quickly, "to enter the lists in behalf of the present, and never willingly to recall the past." "it was full of anxiety and care," replied eulaeus with perfect selfpossession. "that my sovereign lady must know from her illustrious mother, and from her own experience; and she will also protect me from the undeserved hatred with which certain powerful enemies seem minded to pursue me. permit me, your majesty, not to make my appearance at the banquet until later. this noble gentleman kept me waiting for hours in the serapeum, and the proposals concerning the new building in the temple of isis at philae must be drawn up and engrossed to-day, in order that they may be brought to-morrow before your royal husband in council and your illustrious brother euergetes--" "you have leave, interrupted cleopatra." as soon as eulaeus had disappeared, the queen went closer up to publius, and said: "you are annoyed with this man--well, he is not pleasant, but at any rate he is useful and worthy. may i ask whether you only feel his personality repugnant to you, or whether actual circumstances have given rise to your aversion--nay, if i have judged rightly, to a very bitterly hostile feeling against him?" "both," replied publius. "in this unmanly man, from the very first, i expected to find nothing good, and i now know that, if i erred at all, it was in his favor. to-morrow i will ask you to spare me an hour when i can communicate to your majesty something concerning him, but which is too repulsive and sad to be suitable for telling in an evening devoted to enjoyment. you need not be inquisitive, for they are matters that belong to the past, and which concern neither you nor me." the high-steward and the cup-bearer here interrupted this conversation by calling them to table, and the royal pair were soon reclining with their guests at the festal board. oriental splendor and greek elegance were combined in the decorations of the saloon of moderate size, in which ptolemy philometor was wont to prefer to hold high-festival with a few chosen friends. like the great reception-hall and the men's hall-with its twenty doors and lofty porphyry columns--in which the king's guests assembled, it was lighted from above, since it was only at the sides that the walls--which had no windows--and a row of graceful alabaster columns with corinthian acanthus-capitals supported a narrow roof; the centre of the hall was quite uncovered. at this hour, when it was blazing with hundreds of lights, the large opening, which by day admitted the bright sunshine, was closed over by a gold net-work, decorated with stars and a crescent moon of rock-crystal, and the meshes were close enough to exclude the bats and moths which at night always fly to the light. but the illumination of the king's banqueting-hall made it almost as light as day, consisting of numerous lamps with many branches held up by lovely little figures of children in bronze and marble. every joint was plainly visible in the mosaic of the pavement, which represented the reception of heracles into olympus, the feast of the gods, and the astonishment of the amazed hero at the splendor of the celestial banquet; and hundreds of torches were reflected in the walls of polished yellow marble, brought from hippo regius; these were inlaid by skilled artists with costly stones, such as lapis lazuli and malachite, crystals, blood-stone, jasper, agates and chalcedony, to represent fruit-pieces and magnificent groups of game or of musical instruments; while the pilasters were decorated with masks of the tragic and comic muses, torches, thyrsi wreathed with ivy and vine, and pan-pipes. these were wrought in silver and gold, and set with costly marbles, and they stood out from the marble background like metal work on a leather shield, or the rich ornamentation on a sword-sheath. the figures of a dionysiac procession, forming the frieze, looked down upon the feasters--a fine relievo that had been designed and modelled for ptolemy soter by the sculptor bryaxis, and then executed in ivory and gold. everything that met the eye in this hall was splendid, costly, and above all of a genial aspect, even before cleopatra had come to the throne; and she--here as in her own apartments--had added the busts of the greatest greek philosophers and poets, from thales of miletus down to strato, who raised chance to fill the throne of god, and from hesiod to callimachus; she too had placed the tragic mask side by side with the comic, for at her table--she was wont to say--she desired to see no one who could not enjoy grave and wise discourse more than eating, drinking, and laughter. instead of assisting at the banquet, as other ladies used, seated on a chair or at the foot of her husband's couch, she reclined on a couch of her own, behind which stood busts of sappho the poetess, and aspasia the friend of pericles. though she made no pretensions to be regarded as a philosopher nor even as a poetess, she asserted her right to be considered a finished connoisseur in the arts of poetry and music; and if she preferred reclining to sitting how should she have done otherwise, since she was fully aware how well it became her to extend herself in a picturesque attitude on her cushions, and to support her head on her arm as it rested on the back of her couch; for that arm, though not strictly speaking beautiful, always displayed the finest specimens of alexandrian workmanship in gem-cutting and goldsmiths' work. but, in fact, she selected a reclining posture particularly for the sake of showing her feet; not a woman in egypt or greece had a smaller or more finely formed foot than she. for this reason her sandals were so made that when she stood or walked they protected only the soles of her feet, and her slender white toes with the roseate nails and their polished white half-moons were left uncovered. at the banquet she put off her shoes altogether, as the men did; hiding her feet at first however, and not displaying them till she thought the marks left on her tender skin by the straps of the sandals had completely disappeared. eulaeus was the greatest admirer of these feet; not, as he averred, on account of their beauty, but because the play of the queen's toes showed him exactly what was passing in her mind, when he was quite unable to detect what was agitating her soul in the expression of her mouth and eyes, well practised in the arts of dissimulation. nine couches, arranged three and three in a horseshoe, invited the guests to repose, with their arms of ebony and cushions of dull olive-green brocade, on which a delicate pattern of gold and silver seemed just to have been breathed. the queen, shrugging her shoulders, and, as it would seem, by no means agreeably surprised at something, whispered to the chamberlain, who then indicated to each guest the place he was to occupy. to the right of the central group reclined the queen, and her husband took his place to the left; the couch between the royal pair, destined for their brother euergetes, remained unoccupied. on one of the three couches which formed the right-hand angle with those of the royal family, publius found a place next to cleopatra; opposite to him, and next the king, was lysias the corinthian. two places next to him remained vacant, while on the side by the roman reclined the brave and prudent hierax, the friend of ptolemy euergetes and his most faithful follower. while the servants strewed the couches with rose leaves, sprinkled perfumed waters, and placed by the couch of each guest a small table-made of silver and of a slab of fine, reddish-brown porphyry, veined with white-the king addressed a pleasant greeting to each guest, apologizing for the smallness of the number. "eulaeus," he said, "has been forced to leave us on business, and our royal brother is still sitting over his books with aristarchus, who came with him from alexandria; but he promised certainly to come." "the fewer we are," replied lysias, bowing low, "the more honorable is the distinction of belonging to so limited a number of your majesty's most select associates." "i certainly think we have chosen the best from among the good," said the queen. "but even the small number of friends i had invited must have seemed too large to my brother euergetes, for he--who is accustomed to command in other folks' houses as he does in his own--forbid the chamberlain to invite our learned friends--among whom agatharchides, my brothers' and my own most worthy tutor, is known to you--as well as our jewish friends who were present yesterday at our table, and whom i had set down on my list. i am very well satisfied however, for i like the number of the muses; and perhaps he desired to do you, publius, particular honor, since we are assembled here in the roman fashion. it is in your honor, and not in his, that we have no music this evening; you said that you did not particularly like it at a banquet. euergetes himself plays the harp admirably. however, it is well that he is late in coming as usual, for the day after tomorrow is his birthday, and he is to spend it here with us and not in alexandria; the priestly delegates assembled in the bruchion are to come from thence to memphis to wish him joy, and we must endeavor to get up some brilliant festival. you have no love for eulaeus, publius, but he is extremely skilled in such matters, and i hope he will presently return to give us his advice." "for the morning we will have a grand procession," cried the king. "euergetes delights in a splendid spectacle, and i should be glad to show him how much pleasure his visit has given us." the king's fine features wore a most winning expression as he spoke these words with heart-felt warmth, but his consort said thoughtfully: "aye! if only we were in alexandria--but here, among all the egyptian people--" chapter ix. a loud laugh re-echoing from the marble walls of the state-room interrupted the queen's speech; at first she started, but then smiled with pleasure as she recognized her brother euergetes, who, pushing aside the chamberlains, approached the company with an elderly greek, who walked by his side. "by all the dwellers on olympus! by the whole rabble of gods and beasts that live in the temples by the nile!" cried the new-comer, again laughing so heartily that not only his fat cheeks but his whole immensely stout young frame swayed and shook. "by your pretty little feet, cleopatra, which could so easily be hidden, and yet are always to be seen--by all your gentle virtues, philometor, i believe you are trying to outdo the great philadelphus or our syrian uncle antiochus, and to get up a most unique procession; and in my honor! just so! i myself will take a part in the wonderful affair, and my sturdy person shall represent eros with his quiver and bow. some ethiopian dame must play the part of my mother aphrodite; she will look the part to perfection, rising from the white sea-foam with her black skin. and what do you think of a pallas with short woolly hair; of the charities with broad, flat ethiopian feet; and an egyptian, with his shaven head mirroring the sun, as phoebus apollo?" with these words the young giant of twenty years threw himself on the vacant couch between his brother and sister, and, after bowing, not without dignity, to the roman, whom his brother named to him, he called one of the young macedonians of noble birth who served at the feast as cup-bearers, had his cup filled once and again and yet a third time, drinking it off quickly and without setting it down; then he said in a loud tone, while he pushed his hands through his tossed, light brown hair, till it stood straight up in the air from his broad temples and high brow: "i must make up for what you have had before i came.--another cup-full diocleides." "wild boy!" said cleopatra, holding up her finger at him half in jest and half in grave warning. "how strange you look!" "like silenus without the goat's hoofs," answered euergetes. "hand me a mirror here, diocleides; follow the eyes of her majesty the queen, and you will be sure to find one. there is the thing! and in fact the picture it shows me does not displease me. i see there a head on which besides the two crowns of egypt a third might well find room, and in which there is so much brains that they might suffice to fill the skulls of four kings to the brim. i see two vulture's eyes which are always keen of sight even when their owner is drunk, and that are in danger of no peril save from the flesh of these jolly cheeks, which, if they continue to increase so fast, must presently exclude the light, as the growth of the wood encloses a piece of money stuck into a rift in a treeor as a shutter, when it is pushed to, closes up a window. with these hands and arms the fellow i see in the mirror there could, at need, choke a hippopotamus; the chain that is to deck this neck must be twice as long as that worn by a well-fed egyptian priest. in this mirror i see a man, who is moulded out of a sturdy clay, baked out of more unctuous and solid stuff than other folks; and if the fine creature there on the bright surface wears a transparent robe, what have you to say against it, cleopatra? the ptolemaic princes must protect the import trade of alexandria, that fact was patent even to the great son of lagus; and what would become of our commerce with cos if i did not purchase the finest bombyx stuffs, since those who sell it make no profits out of you, the queen--and you cover yourself, like a vestal virgin, in garments of tapestry. give me a wreath for my head--aye and another to that, and new wine in the cup! to the glory of rome and to your health, publius cornelius scipio, and to our last critical conjecture, my aristarchus-to subtle thinking and deep drinking!" "to deep thinking and subtle drinking!" retorted the person thus addressed, while he raised the cup, looked into the wine with his twinkling eyes and lifted it slowly to his nose--a long, well-formed and slightly aquiline nose--and to his thin lips. "oh! aristarchus," exclaimed euergetes, and he frowned. "you please me better when you clear up the meaning of your poets and historians than when you criticise the drinking-maxims of a king. subtle drinking is mere sipping, and sipping i leave to the bitterns and other birds that live content among the reeds. do you understand me? among reeds, i say-whether cut for writing, or no." "by subtle drinking," replied the great critic with perfect indifference, as he pushed the thin, gray hair from his high brow with his slender hand. "by subtle drinking i mean the drinking of choice wine, and did you ever taste anything more delicate than this juice of the vines of anthylla that your illustrious brother has set before us? your paradoxical axiom commends you at once as a powerful thinker and as the benevolent giver of the best of drinks." "happily turned," exclaimed cleopatra, clapping her hands, "you here see, publius, a proof of the promptness of an alexandrian tongue." "yes!" said euergetes, "if men could go forth to battle with words instead of spears the masters of the museum in alexander's city, with aristarchus at their head, they might rout the united armies of rome and carthage in a couple of hours." "but we are not now in the battle-field but at a peaceful meal," said the king, with suave amiability. "you did in fact overhear our secret euergetes, and mocked at my faithful egyptians, in whose place i would gladly set fair greeks if only alexandria still belonged to me instead of to you.--however, a splendid procession shall not be wanting at your birthday festival." "and do you really still take pleasure in these eternal goose-step performances?" asked euergetes, stretching himself out on his couch, and folding his hands to support the back of his head. "sooner could i accustom myself to the delicate drinking of aristarchus than sit for hours watching these empty pageants. on two conditions only can i declare myself ready and willing to remain quiet, and patiently to dawdle through almost half a day, like an ape in a cage: first, if it will give our roman friend publius cornelius scipio any pleasure to witness such a performance--though, since our uncle antiochus pillaged our wealth, and since we brothers shared egypt between us, our processions are not to be even remotely compared to the triumphs of roman victors--or, secondly, if i am allowed to take an active part in the affair." "on my account, sire," replied publius, "no procession need be arranged, particularly not such a one as i should here be obliged to look on at." "well! i still enjoy such things," said cleopatra's husband. "wellarranged groups, and the populace pleased and excited are a sight i am never tired of." "as for me," cried cleopatra, "i often turn hot and cold, and the tears even spring to my eyes, when the shouting is loudest. a great mass of men all uniting in a common emotion always has a great effect. a drop, a grain of sand, a block of stone are insignificant objects, but millions of them together, forming the sea, the desert or the pyramids, constitute a sublime whole. one man alone, shouting for joy, is like a madman escaped from an asylum, but when thousands of men rejoice together it must have a powerful effect on the coldest heart. how is it that you, publius scipio, in whom a strong will seems to me to have found a peculiarly happy development, can remain unmoved by a scene in which the great collective will of a people finds its utterance?" "is there then any expression of will, think you," said the roman, "in this popular rejoicing? it is just in such circumstances that each man becomes the involuntary mimic and duplicate of his neighbor; while i love to make my own way, and to be independent of everything but the laws and duties laid upon me by the state to which i belong." "and i," said euergetes, "from my childhood have always looked on at processions from the very best places, and so it is that fortune punishes me now with indifference to them and to everything of the kind; while the poor miserable devil who can never catch sight of anything more than the nose or the tip of a hair or the broad back of those who take part in them, always longs for fresh pageants. as you hear, i need have no consideration for publius scipio in this, willing as i should be to do so. now what would you say, cleopatra, if i myself took a part in my procession--i say mine, since it is to be in my honor; that really would be for once something new and amusing." "more new and amusing than creditable, i think," replied cleopatra dryly. "and yet even that ought to please you," laughed euergetes. "since, besides being your brother, i am your rival, and we would sooner see our rivals lower themselves than rise." "do not try to justify yourself by such words," interrupted the king evasively, and with a tone of regret in his soft voice. "we love you truly; we are ready to yield you your dominion side by side with ours, and i beg you to avoid such speeches even in jest, so that bygones may be bygones." "and," added cleopatra, "not to detract from your dignity as a king and your fame as a sage by any such fool's pranks." "madam teacher, do you know then what i had in my mind? i would appear as alcibiades, followed by a train of flute-playing women, with aristarchus to play the part of socrates. i have often been told that he and i resemble each other--in many points, say the more sincere; in every point, say the more polite of my friends." at these words publius measured with his eye the frame of the royal young libertine, enveloped in transparent robes; and recalling to himself, as he gazed, a glorious statue of that favorite of the athenians, which he had seen in the ilissus, an ironical smile passed over his lips. it was not unobserved by euergetes and it offended him, for there was nothing he liked better than to be compared to the nephew of pericles; but he suppressed his annoyance, for publius cornelius scipio was the nearest relative of the most influential men of rome, and, though he himself wielded royal power, rome exercised over him the sovereign will of a divinity. cleopatra noticed what was passing in her brother's mind, and in order to interrupt his further speech and to divert his mind to fresh thoughts, she said cheerfully: "let us then give up the procession, and think of some other mode of celebrating your birthday. you, lysias, must be experienced in such matters, for publius tells me that you were the leader in all the games of corinth. what can we devise to entertain euergetes and ourselves?" the corinthian looked for a moment into his cup, moving it slowly about on the marble slab of the little table at his side, between an oyster pasty and a dish of fresh asparagus; and then he said, glancing round to win the suffrages of the company: "at the great procession which took place under ptolemy philadelphus-agatharchides gave me the description of it, written by the eye-witness kallixenus, to read only yesterday--all kinds of scenes from the lives of the gods were represented before the people. suppose we were to remain in this magnificent palace, and to represent ourselves the beautiful groups which the great artists of the past have produced in painting or sculpture; but let us choose those only that are least known." "splendid," cried cleopatra in great excitement, who can be more like heracles than my mighty brother there--the very son of alcmene, as lysippus has conceived and represented him? let us then represent the life of heracles from grand models, and in every case assign to euergetes the part of the hero." "oh! i will undertake it," said the young king, feeling the mighty muscles of his breast and arms, "and you may give me great credit for assuming the part, for the demi-god who strangled the snakes was lacking in the most important point, and it was not without due consideration that lysippus represented him with a small head on his mighty body; but i shall not have to say anything." "if i play omphale will you sit at my feet?" asked cleopatra. "who would not be willing to sit at those feet?" answered euergetes. "let us at once make further choice among the abundance of subjects offered to us, but, like lysias, i would warn you against those that are too well-known." "there are no doubt things commonplace to the eye as well as to the ear," said cleopatra. "but what is recognized as good is commonly regarded as most beautiful." "permit me," said lysias, "to direct your attention to a piece of sculpture in marble of the noblest workmanship, which is both old and beautiful, and yet which may be known to few among you. it exists on the cistern of my father's house at corinth, and was executed many centuries since by a great artist of the peloponnesus. publius was delighted with the work, and it is in fact beautiful beyond description. it is an exquisite representation of the marriage of heracles and hebe--of the hero, raised to divinity, with sempiternal youth. will your majesty allow yourself to be led by pallas athene and your mother alcmene to your nuptials with hebe?" "why not?" said euergetes. "only the hebe must be beautiful. but one thing must be considered; how are we to get the cistern from your father's house at corinth to this place by to-morrow or next day? such a group cannot be posed from memory without the original to guide us; and though the story runs that the statue of serapis flew from sinope to alexandria, and though there are magicians still at memphis--" "we shall not need them," interrupted publius, "while i was staying as a guest in the house of my friend's parents--which is altogether more magnificent than the old castle of king gyges at sardis--i had some gems engraved after this lovely group, as a wedding-present for my sister. they are extremely successful, and i have them with me in my tent." "have you a sister?" asked the queen, leaning over towards the roman. "you must tell me all about her." "she is a girl like all other girls," replied publius, looking down at the ground, for it was most repugnant to his feelings to speak of his sister in the presence of euergetes. "and you are unjust like all other brothers," said cleopatra smiling, "and i must hear more about her, for"--and she whispered the words and looked meaningly at publius--"all that concerns you must interest me." during this dialogue the royal brothers had addressed themselves to lysias with questions as to the marriage of heracles and hebe, and all the company were attentive to the greek as he went on: "this fine work does not represent the marriage properly speaking, but the moment when the bridegroom is led to the bride. the hero, with his club on his shoulder, and wearing the lion's skin, is led by pallas athene, who, in performing this office of peace, has dropped her spear and carries her helmet in her hand; they are accompanied by his mother alcmene, and are advancing towards the bride's train. this is headed by no less a personage than apollo himself, singing the praises of hymenaeus to a lute. with him walks his sister artemis and behind them the mother of hebe, accompanied by hermes, the messenger of the gods, as the envoy of zeus. then follows the principal group, which is one of the most lovely works of greek art that i am acquainted with. hebe comes forward to meet her bridegroom, gently led on by aphrodite, the queen of love. peitho, the goddess of persuasion, lays her hand on the bride's arm, imperceptibly urging her forward and turning away her face; for what she had to say has been said, and she smiles to herself, for hebe has not turned a deaf ear to her voice, and he who has once listened to peitho must do what she desires." "and hebe?" asked cleopatra. "she casts down her eyes, but lifts up the arm on which the hand of peitho rests with a warning movement of her fingers, in which she holds an unopened rose, as though she would say; 'ah! let me be--i tremble at the man'--or ask: 'would it not be better that i should remain as i am and not yield to your temptations and to aphrodite's power?' oh! hebe is exquisite, and you, o queen! must represent her!" "i!" exclaimed cleopatra. "but you said her eyes were cast down." "that is from modesty and timidity, and her gait must also be bashful and maidenly. her long robe falls to her feet in simple folds, while peitho holds hers up saucily, between her forefinger and thumb, as if stealthily dancing with triumph over her recent victory. indeed the figure of peitho would become you admirably." "i think i will represent peitho," said the queen interrupting the corinthian. "hebe is but a bud, an unopened blossom, while i am a mother, and i flatter myself i am something of a philosopher--" "and can with justice assure yourself," interrupted aristarchus, "that with every charm of youth you also possess the characters attributed to peitho, the goddess, who can work her spells not only on the heart but on the intellect also. the maiden bud is as sweet to look upon as the rose, but he who loves not merely color but perfume too--i mean refreshment, emotion and edification of spirit--must turn to the full-blown flower; as the rose--growers of lake moeris twine only the buds of their favorite flower into wreaths and bunches, but cannot use them for extracting the oil of imperishable fragrance; for that they need the expanded blossom. represent peitho, my queen! the goddess herself might be proud of such a representative." "and if she were so indeed," cried cleopatra, "how happy am i to hear such words from the lips of aristarchus. it is settled--i play peitho. my companion zoe may take the part of artemis, and her grave sister that of pallas athene. for the mother's part we have several matrons to choose from; the eldest daughter of epitropes appears to me fitted for the part of aphrodite; she is wonderfully lovely." "is she stupid too?" asked euergetes. "that is also an attribute of the ever-smiling cypria." "enough so, i think, for our purpose," laughed cleopatra. "but where are we to find such a hebe as you have described, lysias? the daughter of alimes the arabarch is a charming child." "but she is brown, as brown as this excellent wine, and too thoroughly egyptian," said the high-steward, who superintended the young macedonian cup-bearers; he bowed deeply as he spoke, and modestly drew the queen's attention to his own daughter, a maiden of sixteen. but cleopatra objected, that she was much taller than herself, and that she would have to stand by the hebe, and lay her hand on her arm. other maidens were rejected on various grounds, and euergetes had already proposed to send off a carrier-pigeon to alexandria to command that some fair greek girl should be sent by an express quadriga to memphis--where the dark egyptian gods and men flourish, and are more numerous than the fair race of greeks--when lysias exclaimed: "i saw to-day the very girl we want, a hebe that might have stepped out from the marble group at my father's, and have been endued with life and warmth and color by some god. young, modest, rose and white, and just about as tall as your majesty. if you will allow me, i will not tell you who she is, till after i have been to our tent to fetch the gems with the copies of the marble." "you will find them in an ivory casket at the bottom of my clotheschest," said publius; "here is the key." "make haste," cried the queen, "for we are all curious to hear where in memphis you discovered your modest, rose and white hebe." chapter x. an hour had slipped by with the royal party, since lysias had quitted the company; the wine-cups had been filled and emptied many times; eulaeus had rejoined the feasters, and the conversation had taken quite another turn, since the whole of the company were not now equally interested in the same subject; on the contrary, the two kings were discussing with aristarchus the manuscripts of former poets and of the works of the sages, scattered throughout greece, and the ways and means of obtaining them or of acquiring exact transcripts of them for the library of the museum. hierax was telling eulaeus of the last dionysiac festival, and of the representation of the newest comedy in alexandria, and eulaeus assumed the appearance--not unsuccessfully--of listening with both ears, interrupting him several times with intelligent questions, bearing directly on what he had said, while in fact his attention was exclusively directed to the queen, who had taken entire possession of the roman publius, telling him in a low tone of her life--which was consuming her strength--of her unsatisfied affections, and her enthusiasm for rome and for manly vigor. as she spoke her cheeks glowed and her eyes sparkled, for the more exclusively she kept the conversation in her own hands the better she thought she was being entertained; and publius, who was nothing less than talkative, seldom interrupted her, only insinuating a flattering word now and then when it seemed appropriate; for he remembered the advice given him by the anchorite, and was desirous of winning the good graces of cleopatra. in spite of his sharp ears eulaeus could understand but little of their whispered discourse, for king euergetes' powerful voice sounded loud above the rest of the conversation; but eulaeus was able swiftly to supply the links between the disjointed sentences, and to grasp the general sense, at any rate, of what she was saying. the queen avoided wine, but she had the power of intoxicating herself, so to speak, with her own words, and now just as her brothers and aristarchus were at the height of their excited and eager question and answer--she raised her cup, touched it with her lips and handed it to publius, while at the same time she took hold of his. the young roman knew well enough all the significance of this hasty action; it was thus that in his own country a woman when in love was wont to exchange her cup with her lover, or an apple already bitten by her white teeth. publius was seized with a cold shudder--like a wanderer who carelessly pursues his way gazing up at the moon and stars, and suddenly perceives an abyss yawning; at his feet. recollections of his mother and of her warnings against the seductive wiles of the egyptian women, and particularly of this very woman, flashed through his mind like lightning; she was looking at him--not royally by any means, but with anxious and languishing gaze, and he would gladly have kept his eyes fixed on the ground, and have left the cup untouched; but her eye held his fast as though fettering it with ties and bonds; and to put aside the cup seemed to the most fearless son of an unconquered nation a deed too bold to be attempted. besides, how could he possibly repay this highest favor with an affront that no woman could ever forgive--least of all a cleopatra? aye, many a life's happiness is tossed away and many a sin committed, because the favor of women is a grace that does honor to every man, and that flatters him even when it is bestowed by the unloved and unworthy. for flattery is a key to the heart, and when the heart stands half open the voice of the tempter is never wanting to whisper: "you will hurt her feelings if you refuse." these were the deliberations which passed rapidly and confusedly through the young roman's agitated brain, as he took the queen's cup and set his lips to the same spot that hers had touched. then, while he emptied the cup in long draughts, he felt suddenly seized by a deep aversion to the over-talkative, overdressed and capricious woman before him, who thus forced upon him favors for which he had not sued; and suddenly there rose before his soul the image, almost tangibly distinct, of the humble waterbearer; he saw klea standing before him and looking far more queenly as, proud and repellent, she avoided his gaze, than the sovereign by his side could ever have done, though crowned with a diadem. cleopatra rejoiced to mark his long slow draught, for she thought the roman meant to imply by it that he could not cease to esteem himself happy in the favor she had shown him. she did not take her eyes off him, and observed with pleasure that his color changed to red and white; nor did she notice that eulaeus was watching, with a twinkle in his eyes, all that was going on between her and publius. at last the roman set down the cup, and tried with some confusion to reply to her question as to how he had liked the flavor of the wine. "very fine--excellent--" at last he stammered out, but he was no longer looking at cleopatra but at euergetes, who just then cried out loudly: "i have thought over that passage for hours, i have given you all my reasons and have let you speak, aristarchus, but i maintain my opinion, and whoever denies it does homer an injustice; in this place 'siu' must be read instead of 'iu'." euergetes spoke so vehemently that his voice outshouted all the other guests; publius however snatched at his words, to escape the necessity for feigning sentiments he could not feel; so he said, addressing himself half to the speaker and half to cleopatra: "of what use can it be to decide whether it is one or the other--'iu' or 'siu'. i find many things justifiable in other men that are foreign to my own nature, but i never could understand how an energetic and vigorous man, a prudent sovereign and stalwart drinker--like you, euergetes--can sit for hours over flimsy papyrus-rolls, and rack his brains to decide whether this or that in homer should be read in one way or another." "you exercise yourself in other things," replied euergetes. "i consider that part of me which lies within this golden fillet as the best that i have, and i exercise my wits on the minutest and subtlest questions just as i would try the strength of my arms against the sturdiest athletes. i flung five into the sand the last time i did so, and they quake now when they see me enter the gymnasium of timagetes. there would be no strength in the world if there were no obstacles, and no man would know that he was strong if he could meet with no resistance to overcome. i for my part seek such exercises as suit my idiosyncrasy, and if they are not to your taste i cannot help it. if you were to set these excellently dressed crayfish before a fine horse he would disdain them, and could not understand how foolish men could find anything palatable that tasted so salt. salt, in fact, is not suited to all creatures! men born far from the sea do not relish oysters, while i, being a gourmand, even prefer to open them myself so that they may be perfectly fresh, and mix their liquor with my wine." "i do not like any very salt dish, and am glad to leave the opening of all marine produce to my servants," answered publius. "thereby i save both time and unnecessary trouble." "oh! i know!" cried euergetes. "you keep greek slaves, who must even read and write for you. pray is there a market where i may purchase men, who, after a night of carousing, will bear our headache for us? by the shores of the tiber you love many things better than learning." "and thereby," added aristarchus, "deprive yourselves of the noblest and subtlest of pleasures, for the purest enjoyment is ever that which we earn at the cost of some pains and effort." "but all that you earn by this kind of labor," returned publius, "is petty and unimportant. it puts me in mind of a man who removes a block of stone in the sweat of his brow only to lay it on a sparrow's feather in order that it may not be carried away by the wind." "and what is great--and what is small?" asked aristarchus. "very opposite opinions on that subject may be equally true, since it depends solely on us and our feelings how things appear to us--whether cold or warm; lovely or repulsive--and when protagoras says that 'man is the measure of all things,' that is the most acceptable of all the maxims of the sophists; moreover the smallest matter--as you will fully appreciate --acquires an importance all the greater in proportion as the thing is perfect, of which it forms a part. if you slit the ear of a cart-horse, what does it signify? but suppose the same thing were to happen to a thoroughbred horse, a charger that you ride on to battle! "a wrinkle or a tooth more or less in the face of a peasant woman matters little, or not at all, but it is quite different in a celebrated beauty. if you scrawl all over the face with which the coarse finger of the potter has decorated a water-jar, the injury to the wretched pot is but small, but if you scratch, only with a needle's point, that gem with the portraits of ptolemy and arsinoe, which clasps cleopatra's robe round her fair throat, the richest queen will grieve as though she had suffered some serious loss. "now, what is there more perfect or more worthy to be treasured than the noblest works of great thinkers and great poets. "to preserve them from injury, to purge them from the errors which, in the course of time, may have spotted their immaculate purity, this is our task; and if we do indeed raise blocks of stone it is not to weight a sparrow's feather that it may not be blown away, but to seal the door which guards a precious possession, and to preserve a gem from injury. "the chatter of girls at a fountain is worth nothing but to be wafted away on the winds, and to be remembered by none; but can a son ever deem that one single word is unimportant which his dying father has bequeathed to him as a clue to his path in life? if you yourself were such a son, and your ear had not perfectly caught the parting counsels of the dyinghow many talents of silver would you not pay to be able to supply the missing words? and what are immortal works of the great poets and thinkers but such sacred words of warning addressed, not to a single individual, but to all that are not barbarians, however many they maybe. they will elevate, instruct, and delight our descendants a thousand years hence as they do us at this day, and they, if they are not degenerate and ungrateful will be thankful to those who have devoted the best powers of their life to completing and restoring all that our mighty forefathers have said, as it must have originally stood before it was mutilated, and spoiled by carelessness and folly. "he who, like king euergetes, puts one syllable in homer right, in place of a wrong one, in my opinion has done a service to succeeding generations--aye and a great service." "what you say," replied publius, "sounds convincing, but it is still not perfectly clear to me; no doubt because i learned at an early age to prefer deeds to words. i find it more easy to reconcile my mind to your painful and minute labors when i reflect that to you is entrusted the restoration of the literal tenor of laws, whose full meaning might be lost by a verbal error; or that wrong information might be laid before me as to one single transaction in the life of a friend or of a bloodrelation, and it might lie with me to clear him of mistakes and misinterpretation." "and what are the works of the great singers of the deeds of the heroesof the writers of past history, but the lives of our fathers related either with veracious exactness or with poetic adornments?" cried aristarchus. "it is to these that my king and companion in study devotes himself with particular zeal." "when he is neither drinking, nor raving, nor governing, nor wasting his time in sacrificing and processions," interpolated euergetes. "if i had not been a king perhaps i might have been an aristarchus; as it is i am but half a king--since half of my kingdom belongs to you, philometor--and but half a student; for when am i to find perfect quiet for thinking and writing? everything, everything in me is by halves, for i, if the scale were to turn in my favor"--and here he struck his chest and his forehead, "i should be twice the man i am. i am my whole real self nowhere but at high festivals, when the wine sparkles in the cup, and bright eyes flash from beneath the brows of the flute-players of alexandria or cyrene-sometimes too perhaps in council when the risk is great, or when there is something vast and portentous to be done from which my brother and you others, all of you, would shrink--nay perhaps even the roman. aye! so it is--and you will learn to know it." euergetes had roared rather than spoken the last words; his cheeks were flushed, his eyes rolled, while he took from his head both the garland of flowers and the golden fillet, and once more pushed his fingers through his hair. his sister covered her ears with her hands, and said: "you positively hurt me! as no one is contradicting you, and you, as a man of culture, are not accustomed to add force to your assertions, like the scythians, by speaking in a loud tone, you would do well to save your metallic voice for the further speech with which it is to be hoped you will presently favor us. we have had to bow more than once already to the strength of which you boast--but now, at a merry feast, we will not think of that, but rather continue the conversation which entertained us, and which had begun so well. this eager defence of the interests which most delight the best of the hellenes in alexandria may perhaps result in infusing into the mind of our friend publius scipio--and through him into that of many young romans--a proper esteem for a line of intellectual effort which he could not have condemned had he not failed to understand it perfectly. "very often some striking poetical turn given to a subject makes it, all at once, clear to our comprehension, even when long and learned disquisitions have failed; and i am acquainted with such an one, written by an anonymous author, and which may please you--and you too, aristarchus. it epitomizes very happily the subject of our discussion. the lines run as follows: "behold, the puny child of man sits by time's boundless sea, and gathers in his feeble hand drops of eternity. "he overhears some broken words of whispered mystery he writes them in a tiny book and calls it 'history!' "we owe these verses to an accomplished friend; another has amplified the idea by adding the two that follow: "if indeed the puny child of man had not gathered drops from that wide sea, those small deeds that fill his little span had been lost in dumb eternity. "feeble is his hand, and yet it dare seize some drops of that perennial stream; as they fall they catch a transient gleam- lo! eternity is mirrored there! "what are we all but puny children? and those of us who gather up the drops surely deserve our esteem no less than those who spend their lives on the shore of that great ocean in mere play and strife--" "and love," threw in eulaeus in a low voice, as he glanced towards publius. "your poet's verses are pretty and appropriate," aristarchus now said, "and i am very happy to find myself compared to the children who catch the falling drops. there was a time--which came to an end, alas! with the great aristotle--when there were men among the greeks, who fed the ocean of which you speak with new tributaries; for the gods had bestowed on them the power of opening new sources, like the magician moses, of whom onias, the jew, was lately telling us, and whose history i have read in the sacred books of the hebrews. he, it is true--moses i mean--only struck water from the rock for the use of the body, while to our philosophers and poets we owe inexhaustible springs to refresh the mind and soul. the time is now past which gave birth to such divine and creative spirits; as your majesties' forefathers recognized full well when they founded the museum of alexandria and the library, of which i am one of the guardians, and which i may boast of having completed with your gracious assistance. when ptolemy soter first created the museum in alexandria the works of the greatest period could receive no additions in the form of modern writings of the highest class; but he set us--children of man, gathering the drops--the task of collecting and of sifting them, of eliminating errors in them--and i think we have proved ourselves equal to this task. "it has been said that it is no less difficult to keep a fortune than to deserve it; and so perhaps we, who are merely 'keepers' may nevertheless make some credit--all the more because we have been able to arrange the wealth we found under hand, to work it profitably, to apply it well, to elucidate it, and to make it available. when anything new is created by one of our circle we always link it on to the old; and in many departments we have indeed even succeeded in soaring above the ancients, particularly in that of the experimental sciences. the sublime intelligence of our forefathers commanded a broad horizon--our narrower vision sees more clearly the objects that lie close to us. we have discovered the sure path for all intellectual labor, the true scientific method; and an observant study of things as they are, succeeds better with us than it did with our predecessors. hence it follows that in the provinces of the natural sciences, in mathematics, astronomy, mechanics and geography the sages of our college have produced works of unsurpassed merit. indeed the industry of my associates--" "is very great," cried euergetes. "but they stir up such a dust that all free-thought is choked, and because they value quantity above all things in the results they obtain, they neglect to sift what is great from what is small; and so publius scipio and others like him, who shrug their shoulders over the labors of the learned, find cause enough to laugh in their faces. out of every four of you i should dearly like to set three to some handicraft, and i shall do it too, one of these days--i shall do it, and turn them and all their miserable paraphernalia out of the museum, and out of my capital. they may take refuge with you, philometor, you who marvel at everything you cannot do yourself, who are always delighted to possess what i reject, and to make much of those whom i condemn--and cleopatra i dare say will play the harp, in honor of their entering memphis." "i dare say!" answered the queen, laughing bitterly. "still, it is to be expected that your wrath may fall even on worthy men. until then i will practise my music, and study the treatise on harmony that you have begun writing. you are giving us proof to-day of how far you have succeeded in attaining unison in your own soul." "i like you in this mood!" cried euergetes. "i love you, sister, when you are like this! it ill becomes the eagle's brood to coo like the dove, and you have sharp talons though you hide them never so well under your soft feathers. it is true that i am writing a treatise on harmony, and i am doing it with delight; still it is one of those phenomena which, though accessible to our perception, are imperishable, for no god even could discover it entire and unmixed in the world of realities. where is harmony to be found in the struggles and rapacious strife of the life of the cosmos? and our human existence is but the diminished reflection of that process of birth and decease, of evolution and annihilation, which is going on in all that is perceptible to our senses; now gradually and invisibly, now violently and convulsively, but never harmonyously. "harmony is at home only in the ideal world--harmony which is unknown even among the gods harmony, whom i may know, and yet may never comprehend--whom i love, and may never possess--whom i long for, and who flies from me. "i am as one that thirsteth, and harmony as the remote, unattainable well--i am as one swimming in a wide sea, and she is the land which recedes as i deem myself near to it. "who will tell me the name of the country where she rules as queen, undisturbed and untroubled? and which is most in earnest in his pursuit of the fair one: he who lies sleeping in her arms, or he who is consumed by his passion for her? "i am seeking what you deem that you possess.--possess--! "look round you on the world and on life--look round, as i do, on this hall of which you are so proud! it was built by a greek; but, because the simple melody of beautiful forms in perfect concord no longer satisfies you, and your taste requires the eastern magnificence in which you were born, because this flatters your vanity and reminds you, each time you gaze upon it, that you are wealthy and powerful--you commanded your architect to set aside simple grandeur, and to build this gaudy monstrosity, which is no more like the banqueting-hall of a pericles than i or you, cleopatra, in all our finery, are like the simply clad gods and goddesses of phidias. i mean not to offend you, cleopatra, but i must say this; i am writing now on the subject of harmony, and perhaps i shall afterwards treat of justice, truth, virtue; although i know full well that they are pure abstractions which occur neither in nature nor in human life, and which in my dealings i wholly set aside; nevertheless they seem to me worthy of investigation, like any other delusion, if by resolving it we may arrive at conditional truth. it is because one man is afraid of another that these restraints--justice, truth, and what else you will--have received these high-sounding names, have been stamped as characteristics of the gods, and placed under the protection of the immortals; nay, our anxious care has gone so far that it has been taught as a doctrine that it is beautiful and good to cloud our free enjoyment of existence for the sake of these illusions. think of antisthenes and his disciples, the dog-like cynics--think of the fools shut up in the temple of serapis! nothing is beautiful but what is free, and he only is not free who is forever striving to check his inclinations--for the most part in vain--in order to live, as feeble cowards deem virtuously, justly and truthfully. "one animal eats another when he has succeeded in capturing it, either in open fight or by cunning and treachery; the climbing plant strangles the tree, the desert-sand chokes the meadows, stars fall from heaven, and earthquakes swallow up cities. you believe in the gods--and so do i after my own fashion--and if they have so ordered the course of this life in every class of existence that the strong triumph over the weak, why should not i use my strength, why let it be fettered by those muchbelauded soporifics which our prudent ancestors concocted to cool the hot blood of such men as i, and to paralyze our sinewy fists. "euergetes--the well-doer--i was named at my birth; but if men choose to call me kakergetes--the evil-doer--i do not mind it, since what you call good i call narrow and petty, and what you call evil is the free and unbridled exercise of power. i would be anything rather than lazy and idle, for everything in nature is active and busy; and as, with aristippus, i hold pleasure to be the highest good, i would fain earn the name of having enjoyed more than all other men; in the first place in my mind, but no less in my body which i admire and cherish." during this speech many signs of disagreement had found expression, and publius, who for the first time in his life heard such vicious sentiments spoken, followed the words of the headstrong youth with consternation and surprise. he felt himself no match for this overbearing spirit, trained too in all the arts of argument and eloquence; but he could not leave all he had heard uncontroverted, and so, as euergetes paused in order to empty his refilled cup, he began: "if we were all to act on your principles, in a few centuries, it seems to me, there would be no one left to subscribe to them; for the earth would be depopulated; and the manuscripts, in which you are so careful to substitute 'siu' for 'iu', would be used by strong-handed mothers, if any were left, to boil the pot for their children--in this country of yours where there is no wood to burn. just now you were boasting of your resemblance to alcibiades, but that very gift which distinguished him, and made him dear to the athenians--i mean his beauty--is hardly possible in connection with your doctrines, which would turn men into ravening beasts. he who would be beautiful must before all things be able to control himself and to be moderate--as i learnt in rome before i ever saw athens, and have remembered well. a titan may perhaps have thought and talked as you do, but an alcibiades--hardly!" at these words the blood flew to euergetes' face; but he suppressed the keen and insulting reply that rose to his lips, and this little victory over his wrathful impulse was made the more easy as lysias, at this moment, rejoined the feasters; he excused himself for his long absence, and then laid before cleopatra and her husband the gems belonging to publius. they were warmly admired; even euergetes was not grudging of his praise, and each of the company admitted that he had rarely seen anything more beautiful and graceful than the bashful hebe with downcast eyes, and the goddess of persuasion with her hand resting on the bride's arm. "yes, i will take the part of peitho," said cleopatra with decision. "and i that of heracles," cried euergetes. "but who is the fair one," asked king philometor of lysias, whom you have in your eye, as fulfilling this incomparably lovely conception of hebe? while you were away i recalled to memory the aspect of every woman and girl who frequents our festivals, but only to reject them all, one after the other." "the fair girl whom i mean," replied lysias, "has never entered this or any other palace; indeed i am almost afraid of being too bold in suggesting to our illustrious queen so humble a child as fit to stand beside her, though only in sport." "i shall even have to touch her arm with my hand!" said the queen anxiously, and she drew up her fingers as if she had to touch some unclean thing. if you mean a flower-seller or a flute-player or something of that kind--" "how could i dare to suggest anything so improper?" lysias hastily interposed. "the girl of whom i speak may be sixteen years old; she is innocence itself incarnate, and she looks like a bud ready to open perhaps in the morning dew that may succeed this very night, but which as yet is still enfolded in its cup. she is of greek race, about as tall as you are, cleopatra; she has wonderful gazelle-like eyes, her little head is covered by a mass of abundant brown hair, when she smiles she has delicious dimples in her cheeks--and she will be sure to smile when such a peitho speaks to her!" "you are rousing our curiosity," cried philometor. "in what garden, pray, does this blossom grow?" "and how is it," added cleopatra, "that my husband has not discovered it long since, and transplanted it to our palace." "probably," answered lysias, "because he who possesses cleopatra, the fairest rose of egypt, regards the violets by the roadside as too insignificant to be worth glancing at. besides, the hedge that fences round my bud grows in a gloomy spot; it is difficult of access and suspiciously watched. to be brief: our hebe is a water-bearer in the temple of serapis, and her name is irene." chapter xi. lysias was one of those men from whose lips nothing ever sounds as if it were meant seriously. his statement that he regarded a serving girl from the temple of serapis as fit to personate hebe, was spoken as naturally and simply as if he were telling a tale for children; but his words produced an effect on his hearers like the sound of waters rushing into a leaky ship. publius had turned perfectly white, and it was not till his friend had uttered the name of irene that he in some degree recovered his composure; philometor had struck his cup on the table, and called out in much excitement: "a water-bearer of serapis to play hebe in a gay festal performance! do you conceive it possible, cleopatra?" "impossible--it is absolutely out of the question," replied the queen, decidedly. euergetes, who also had opened his eyes wide at the corinthian's proposition, sat for a long time gazing into his cup in silence; while his brother and sister continued to express their surprise and disapprobation and to speak of the respect and consideration which even kings must pay to the priests and servants of serapis. at length, once more lifting his wreath and crown, he raised his curls with both hands, and said, quite calmly and decisively; "we must have a hebe, and must take her where we find her. if you hesitate to allow the girl to be fetched it shall be done by my orders. the priests of serapis are for the most part greeks, and the high-priest is a hellene. he will not trouble himself much about a half-grown-up girl if he can thereby oblige you or me. he knows as well as the rest of us that one hand washes the other! the only question now is--for i would rather avoid all woman's outcries--whether the girl will come willingly or unwillingly if we send for her. what do you think, lysias?" "i believe she would sooner get out of prison to-day than to-morrow," replied lysias. "irene is a lighthearted creature, and laughs as clearly and merrily as a child at play--and besides that they starve her in her cage." "then i will have her fetched to-morrow!" said euergetes. "but," interrupted cleopatra, "asclepiodorus must obey us and not you; and we, my husband and i--" "you cannot spoil sport with the priests," laughed euergetes. "if they were egyptians, then indeed! they are not to be taken in their nests without getting pecked; but here, as i have said, we have to deal with greeks. what have you to fear from them? for aught i care you may leave our hebe where she is, but i was once much pleased with these representations, and to-morrow morning, as soon as i have slept, i shall return to alexandria, if you do not carry them into effect, and so deprive me, heracles, of the bride chosen for me by the gods. i have said what i have said, and i am not given to changing my mind. besides, it is time that we should show ourselves to our friends feasting here in the next room. they are already merry, and it must be getting late." with these words euergetes rose from his couch, and beckoned to hierax and a chamberlain, who arranged the folds of his transparent robe, while philometor and cleopatra whispered together, shrugging their shoulders and shaking their heads; and publius, pressing his hand on the corinthian's wrist, said in his ear: "you will not give them any help if you value our friendship; we will leave as soon as we can do so with propriety." euergetes did not like to be kept waiting. he was already going towards the door, when cleopatra called him back, and said pleasantly, but with gentle reproachfulness: "you know that we are willing to follow the egyptian custom of carrying out as far as possible the wishes of a friend and brother for his birthday festival; but for that very reason it is not right in you to try to force us into a proceeding which we refuse with difficulty, and yet cannot carry out without exposing ourselves to the most unpleasant consequences. we beg you to make some other demand on us, and we will certainly grant it if it lies in our power." the young colossus responded to his sister's appeal with a loud shout of laughter, waved his arm with a flourish of his hand expressive of haughty indifference; and then he exclaimed: "the only thing i really had a fancy for out of all your possessions you are not willing to concede, and so i must abide by my word--or i go on my way." again cleopatra and her husband exchanged a few muttered words and rapid glances, euergetes watching them the while; his legs straddled apart, his huge body bent forward, and his hands resting on his hips. his attitude expressed so much arrogance and puerile, defiant, unruly audacity, that cleopatra found it difficult to suppress an exclamation of disgust before she spoke. "we are indeed brethren," she said, "and so, for the sake of the peace which has been restored and preserved with so much difficulty, we give in. the best way will be to request asclepiodorus--" but here euergetes interrupted the queen, clapping his hands loudly and laughing: "that is right, sister! only find me my hebe! how you do it is your affair, and is all the same to me. to-morrow evening we will have a rehearsal, and the day after we will give a representation of which our grandchildren shall repeat the fame. nor shall a brilliant audience be lacking, for my complimentary visitors with their priestly splendor and array of arms will, it is to be hoped, arrive punctually. come, my lords, we will go, and see what there is good to drink or to listen to at the table in the next room." the doors were opened; music, loud talking, the jingle of cups, and the noise of laughter sounded through them into the room where the princes had been supping, and all the king's guests followed euergetes, with the exception of eulaeus. cleopatra allowed them to depart without speaking a word; only to publius she said: "till we meet again!" but she detained the corinthian, saying: "you, lysias, are the cause of this provoking business. try now to repair the mischief by bringing the girl to us. do not hesitate! i will guard her, protect her with the greatest care, rely upon me." "she is a modest maiden," replied lysias, "and will not accompany me willingly, i am sure. when i proposed her for the part of hebe i certainly supposed that a word from you, the king and queen, would suffice to induce the head of the temple to entrust her to you for a few hours of harmless amusement. pardon me if i too quit you now; i have the key of my friend's chest still in my possession, and must restore it to him." "shall we have her carried off secretly?" asked cleopatra of her husband, when the corinthian had followed the other guests. "only let us have no scandal, no violence," cried philometor anxiously. "the best way would be for me to write to asclepiodorus, and beg him in a friendly manner to entrust this girl--ismene or irene, or whatever the ill-starred child's name is--for a few days to you, cleopatra, for your pleasure. i can offer him a prospect of an addition to the gift of land i made today, and which fell far short of his demands." "let me entreat your majesty," interposed eulaeus, who was now alone with the royal couple, "let me entreat you not to make any great promises on this occasion, for the moment you do so asclepiodorus will attribute an importance to your desire--" "which it is far from having, and must not seem to have," interrupted the queen. "it is preposterous to waste so many words about a miserable creature, a water-carrying girl, and to go through so much disturbance-but how are we to put an end to it all? what is your advice, eulaeus?" "i thank you for that enquiry, noble princess," replied eulaeus. "my lord, the king, in my opinion, should have the girl carried off, but not with any violence, nor by a man--whom she would hardly follow so immediately as is necessary--but by a woman. "i am thinking of the old egyptian tale of 'the two brothers,' which you are acquainted with. the pharaoh desired to possess himself of the wife of the younger one, who lived on the mount of cedars, and he sent armed men to fetch her away; but only one of them came back to him, for batau had slain all the others. then a woman was sent with splendid ornaments, such as women love, and the fair one followed her unresistingly to the palace. "we may spare the ambassadors, and send only the woman; your lady in waiting, zoe, will execute this commission admirably. who can blame us in any way if a girl, who loves finery, runs away from her keepers?" "but all the world will see her as hebe," sighed philometor, "and proclaim us--the sovereign protectors of the worship of serapis--as violators of the temple, if asclepiodorus leads the cry. no, no, the high-priest must first be courteously applied to. in the case of his raising any difficulties, but not otherwise, shall zoe make the attempt." "so be it then," said the queen, as if it were her part to express her confirmation of her husband's proposition. "let your lady accompany me," begged eulaeus, "and prefer your request to asclepiodorus. while i am speaking with the high-priest, zoe can at any rate win over the girl, and whatever we do must be done to-morrow, or the roman will be beforehand with us. i know that he has cast an eye on irene, who is in fact most lovely. he gives her flowers, feeds his pet bird with pheasants and peaches and other sweetmeats, lets himself be lured into the serapeum by his lady-love as often as possible, stays there whole hours, and piously follows the processions, in order to present the violets with which you graciously honored him by giving them to his fair one--who no doubt would rather wear royal flowers than any others--" "liar!" cried the queen, interrupting the courtier in such violent excitement and such ungoverned rage, so completely beside herself, that her husband drew back startled. "you are a slanderer! a base calumniator! the roman attacks you with naked weapons, but you slink in the dark, like a scorpion, and try to sting your enemy in the heel. apelles, the painter, warns us--the grandchildren of lagus--against folks of your kidney in the picture he painted against antiphilus; as i look at you i am reminded of his demon of calumny. the same spite and malice gleam in your eyes as in hers, and the same fury and greed for some victim, fire your flushed face! how you would rejoice if the youth whom apelles has represented calumny as clutching by the hair, could but be publius! and if only the lean and hollow-eyed form of envy, and the loathsome female figures of cunning and treachery would come to your did as they have to hers! but i remember too the steadfast and truthful glance of the boy she has flung to the ground, his arms thrown up to heaven, appealing for protection to the goddess and the king--and though publius scipio is man enough to guard himself against open attack, i will protect him against being surprised from an ambush! leave this room! go, i say, and you shall see how we punish slanderers!" at these words eulaeus flung himself at the queen's feet, but she, breathing hurriedly and with quivering nostrils, looked away over his head as if she did not even see him, till her husband came towards her, and said in a voice of most winning gentleness: "do not condemn him unheard, and raise him from his abasement. at least give him the opportunity of softening your indignation by bringing the water-bearer here without angering asclepiodorus. carry out this affair well, eulaeus, and you will find in me an advocate with cleopatra." the king pointed to the door, and eulaeus retired, bowing deeply and finding his way out backwards. philometer, now alone with his wife, said with mild reproach: "how could you abandon yourself to such unmeasured anger? so faithful and prudent a servant--and one of the few still living of those to whom our mother was attached--cannot be sent away like a mere clumsy attendant. besides, what is the great crime he has committed? is it a slander which need rouse you to such fury when a cautious old man says in all innocence of a young one--a man belonging to a world which knows nothing of the mysterious sanctity of serapis--that he has taken a fancy to a girl, who is admired by all who see her, that he seeks her out, and gives her flowers--" "gives her flowers?" exclaimed cleopatra, breaking out afresh. "no, he is accused of persecuting a maiden attached to serapis--to serapis i say. but it is simply false, and you would be as angry as i am if you were ever capable of feeling manly indignation, and if you did not want to make use of eulaeus for many things, some of which i know, and others which you choose to conceal from me. only let him fetch the girl; and when once we have her here, and if i find that the roman's indictment against eulaeus--which i will hear to-morrow morning--is well founded, you shall see that i have manly vigor enough for both of us. come away now; they are waiting for us in the other room." the queen gave a call, and chamberlains and servants hurried in; her shell-shaped litter was brought, and in a few minutes, with her husband by her side, she was borne into the great peristyle where the grandees of the court, the commanders of the troops, the most prominent of the officials of the egyptian provinces, many artists and savants, and the ambassadors from foreign powers, were reclining on long rows of couches, and talking over their wine, the feast itself being ended. the greeks and the dark-hued egyptians were about equally represented in this motley assembly; but among them, and particularly among the learned and the fighting men, there were also several israelites and syrians. the royal pair were received by the company with acclamations and marks of respect; cleopatra smiled as sweetly as ever, and waved her fan graciously as she descended from her litter; still she vouchsafed not the slightest attention to any one present, for she was seeking publius, at first among those who were nearest to the couch prepared for her, and then among the other hellenes, the egyptians, the jews, the ambassadors--still she found him not, and when at last she enquired for the roman of the chief chamberlain at her side, the official was sent for who had charge of the foreign envoys. this was an officer of very high rank, whose duty it was to provide for the representatives of foreign powers, and he was now near at hand, for he had long been waiting for an opportunity to offer to the queen a message of leave-taking from publius cornelius scipio, and to tell her from him, that he had retired to his tent because a letter had come to him from rome. "is that true?" asked the queen letting her feather fan droop, and looking her interlocutor severely in the face. "the trireme proteus, coming from brundisium, entered the harbor of eunostus only yesterday," he replied; "and an hour ago a mounted messenger brought the letter. nor was it an ordinary letter but a despatch from the senate--i know the form and seal." "and lysias, the corinthian?" "he accompanied the roman." "has the senate written to him too?" asked the queen annoyed, and ironically. she turned her back on the officer without any kind of courtesy, and turning again to the chamberlain she went on, in incisive tones, as if she were presiding at a trial: "king euergetes sits there among the egyptians near the envoys from the temples of the upper country. he looks as it he were giving them a discourse, and they hang on his lips. what is he saying, and what does all this mean?" "before you came in, he was sitting with the syrians and jews, and telling them what the merchants and scribes, whom he sent to the south, have reported of the lands lying near the lakes through which the nile is said to flow. he thinks that new sources of wealth have revealed themselves not far from the head of the sacred river which can hardly flow in from the ocean, as the ancients supposed." "and now?" asked cleopatra. "what information is he giving to the egyptians?" the chamberlain hastened towards euergetes' couch, and soon returned to the queen--who meanwhile had exchanged a few friendly words with onias, the hebrew commander--and informed her in a low tone that the king was interpreting a passage from the timaeus of plato, in which solon celebrates the lofty wisdom of the priests of sais; he was speaking with much spirit, and the egyptians received it with loud applause. cleopatra's countenance darkened more and more, but she concealed it behind her fan, signed to philometor to approach, and whispered to him: "keep near euergetes; he has a great deal too much to say to the egyptians. he is extremely anxious to stand well with them, and those whom he really desires to please are completely entrapped by his portentous amiability. he has spoiled my evening, and i shall leave you to yourselves." "till to-morrow, then." "i shall hear the roman's complaint up on my roof-terrace; there is always a fresh air up there. if you wish to be present i will send for you, but first i would speak to him alone, for he has received letters from the senate which may contain something of importance. so, till to-morrow." etext editor's bookmarks: and what is great--and what is small behold, the puny child of man evolution and annihilation flattery is a key to the heart hold pleasure to be the highest good man is the measure of all things museum of alexandria and the library one hand washes the other prefer deeds to words what are we all but puny children? this ebook was produced by david widger <widger@cecomet.net> [note: there is a short list of bookmarks, or pointers, at the end of the file for those who may wish to sample the author's ideas before making an entire meal of them. d.w.] the emperor, part 1. by georg ebers volume 2. chapter v. pontius had gone to the steward's room, with a frowning brow, but it was with a smile on his strongly-marked lips, and a brisk step that he returned to his work-people. the foreman came to meet him with looks of enquiry as he said. "the steward was a little offended and with reason; but now we are capital friends and he will do what he can in the matter of lighting." in the hall of the muses he paused outside the screen, behind which pollux was working, and called out: "friend sculptor, listen to me, it is high time to have supper." "it is, indeed," replied pollux, "else it will be breakfast." "then lay aside your tools for a quarter of an hour and help me and the palace-steward to demolish the food that has been sent me." "you will need no second assistant if keraunus is there. food melts before him like ice before the sun." "then come and save him from an overloaded stomach." "impossible, for i am just now dealing most unmercifully with a bowl full of cabbage and sausages. my mother had cooked that food of the gods and my father has brought it in to his first-born son." "cabbage and sausages!" repeated the architect, and its tone betrayed that his hungry stomach would fain have made closer acquaintance with the savory mess. "come in here," continued pollux, "and be my guest. the cabbage has experienced the process which is impending over this palace--it has been warmed up." "warmed-up cabbage is better than freshly-cooked, but the fire over which we must try to make this palace enjoyable again, burns too hotly and must be too vigorously stirred. the best things have been all taken out, and cannot be replaced." "like the sausages, i have fished out of my cabbages," laughed the sculptor. "after all i cannot invite you to be my guest, for it would be a compliment to this dish if i were now to call it cabbage with sausages. i have worked it like a mine, and now that the vein of sausages is nearly exhausted, little remains but the native soil in which two or three miserable fragments remain as memorials of past wealth. but my mother shall cook you a mess of it before long, and she prepares it with incomparable skill." "a good idea, but you are my guest." "i am replete." "then come and spice our meal with your good company." "excuse me, sir; leave me rather here behind my screen. in the first place, i am in a happy vein, and on the right track; i feel that something good will come of this night's work." "and tomorrow--" "hear me out." "well." "you would be doing your other guest an ill-service by inviting me." "do you know the steward then?" "from my earliest youth, i am the son of the gatekeeper of the palace." "oh, ho! then you came from that pretty little lodge with the ivy and the birds, and the jolly old lady." "she is my mother--and the first time the butcher kills she will concoct for you and me a dish of sausages and cabbage without an equal." "a very pleasing prospect." "here comes a hippopotamus--on closer inspection keraunus, the steward." "are you his enemy?" "i, no; but he is mine--yes," replied pollux. "it is a foolish story. when we sup together don't ask me about it if you care to have a jolly companion and do not tell keraunus that i am here, it will lead to no good." "as you wish, and here are our lamps too." "enough to light the nether world," exclaimed pollux, and waving his hand to the architect in farewell he vanished behind the screens to devote himself entirely to his model. it was long past midnight, and the slaves who had set to work with much zeal had finished their labors in the hall of the muses. they were now allowed to rest for some hours on straw that had been spread for them in another wing of the building. the architect himself wished to take advantage of this time to refresh himself by a short sleep, for the exertions of the morrow, but between this intention and its fulfilment an obstacle was interposed, the preposterous dimensions namely of his guest. he had invited the steward on purpose to give him his fill of meat, and keraunus had shown himself amenable to encouragement in this respect. but after the last dish bad been removed the steward thought that good manners demanded that he should honor his entertainer by his illustrious presence, and at the same time the prefect's good wine loosened the tongue of the man, who was not usually communicative. first he spoke of the manifold infirmities which tormented him and endangered his life, and when pontius, to divert his talk into other channels, was so imprudent as to allude to the council of citizens, keraunus gave full play to his eloquence, and, while he emptied cup after cup of wine, tried to lay down the reasons which had made him and his friends decide on staking everything in order to deprive the members of the extensive community of jews in the city of their rights as citizens, and to expel them, if possible, from alexandria. so warm was his zeal that he totally forgot the presence of the architect, and his humble origin, and declared to be indispensable, that even the descendants of freed-slaves should be disenfranchised. pontius saw in the steward's inflamed eyes and cheeks that it was the wine which spoke within him, and he made no answer; and determined that the rest he needed should not be thus abridged, he rose from table and briefly excusing himself he retired to the room in which the couch had been prepared for him. after he had undressed he desired his slave to see what keraunus was about, and soon received the reassuring information that the steward was fast asleep and snoring. "only listen," said the slave, to confirm his report. "you can hear him grunting and snuffing as far as this. i pushed a cushion under his head, for otherwise, so full as he is, the stout gentleman might come to some harm." love is a plant which springs up for many who have never sown it, and grows into a spreading tree for many who have neither fostered nor tended it. how little had keraunus ever done to win the heart of his daughter, how much on the contrary which could not fail to overshadow and trouble her young life. and yet selene, whose youth--for she was but nineteen-needed repose and to whom the evening with the reprieve of sleep brought more pleasure than the morning with its load of cares and labor, sat by the three-branched lamp and watched, and tormented herself more and more as it grew later and later, at her father's long absence. about a week before the strong man had suddenly lost consciousness; only, it is true, for a few minutes, and the physician had told her that though he appeared to be in superabundant health, the attack indicated that he must follow his prescriptions strictly and avoid all kinds of excess. a single indiscretion, he had declared, might swiftly and suddenly cut the thread of his existence. after her father had gone out in obedience to the architect's invitation, selene had brought out her youngest brothers' and sisters' garments, in order to mend them. her sister arsinoe, who was her junior by two years, and whose fingers were as nimble as her own, might indeed have helped her, but she had gone to bed early and was sleeping by the children who could not be left untended at night. her female slave, who had been in her grandmother's service, ought to have assisted her; but the old half-blind negress saw even worse by lamp-light than by daylight, and after a few stitches could do no more. selene sent her to bed and sat down alone to her work. for the first hour she sewed away without looking up, considering, meanwhile, how she could best contrive to support the family till the end of the month on the few drachmae she could dispose of. as it got later she grew wearier and wearier, but still she sat at the work, though her pretty head often sank upon her breast. she must await her father's return, for a potion prepared by the physician stood waiting for him, and she feared he would forget it if she did not remind him. by the end of the second hour sleep overcame her, and she felt as if the chair she was sitting on was giving way under her, and as if it was sinking at first slowly and then quicker and quicker, into a deep abyss that opened beneath her. looking up for help in her dream, she could see nothing but her father's face, which looked aside with indifference. as her dream went on she called him and called him again, but for a long time he did not seem to hear her. at last he looked down at her and when he perceived her he smiled, but instead of helping her he picked up stones and clods from the edge of the gulf and threw them on her hands with which she had clutched the brambles and roots that grew out of the rift of the rocks. she entreated him to cease, implored him, shrieked to him to spare her, but not a muscle moved in the face above her; it seemed set in a vacant smile, and even his heart was dead too, for he ruthlessly flung down now a pebble, now a clod, one after the other, till her hands were losing their last feeble hold and she was on the point of falling into the fatal gulf below. her own cry of terror aroused her, but during the brief process of returning from her dream to actuality, she saw through swiftly parting mists--only for an instant, and yet quite plainly --the tall grass of a meadow, spangled with ox-eye daisies, white and gold, with violet-hued blue bells and scarlet poppies, among which she was lying--as in a soft green bed, while near the sward lay a sparkling blue lake and behind it rose beautiful swelling hills, with red cliffs, and green groves, and meadows bright in the clear sunshine. a clear sky, across which a soft breeze gently blew light silvery flakes of cloud, bent over the lovely but fleeting picture, which she could not compare with anything she had ever seen near her own home. she had only slept for a short time, but when, once more thoroughly awake, she rubbed her eyes, she thought her dream must have lasted for hours. one flame of the three-branched lamp had flickered into extinction and the wick of another was beginning to waste. she hastily put it out with a pair of tongs that hung by a chain, and then after pouring fresh oil into the lamp that was still burning she carried the light into her father's sleeping room. he had not yet returned. she was seized with a mortal terror. had the architect's wine bereft him of his senses? had he on his way back to his rooms been seized with a fresh attack of giddiness? in spirit she saw the heavy man incapable of raising himself, dying perhaps where he had fallen. no choice remained to her; she must go at once to the hall of the muses and see what had happened to her father, pick him up, give him help or-if he still were feasting--endeavor to tempt him back by any excuse she could find. everything was at stake; her father's life and with it maintenance and shelter for eight helpless creatures. the december night was stormy, a keen and bitter wind blew through the ill-closed opening in the roof of the room as selene, before she began her expedition, tied a handkerchief over her head and threw over her shoulders a white mantle which had been worn by her dead mother. in the long corridor which lay between her father's rooms and the front portion of the palace, she had to screen the flickering light of the little lamp with her left hand, carrying it in her right; the flame blown about by the draught and her own figure were mirrored here and there in the polished surface of the dark marble. the thick sandals she had tied on to her feet roused loud echoes in the empty rooms as they fell on the stone pavements, and terror possessed selene's anxious soul. her fingers trembled as they held the lamp and her heart beat audibly as, with bated breath, she went through the cupolaed hall in which ptolemy euergetes 'the fat' was said, some years ago, to have murdered his own son, and in which even a deep breath roused an echo. but even in this room she did not forget to look to the right and left for her father. she breathed a sigh of relief when she perceived a streak of light which shone through the gaping rift of a cracked sidedoor of the hall of the muses and fell in a broken reflection on the floor and the wall of the last room through which she had to pass. she now entered the large hall which was dimly lighted by the lamps behind the sculptor's screen, and by several tapers, now burnt down low. these were standing on a table knocked together out of blocks of wood and planks at the extreme end of the hall, and behind this her father was sound asleep. the deep notes brought out of the sleeper's broad chest, were echoed in a very uncanny way from the bare walls of the vast empty room, and she was frightened by them and still more by the long black shadows of the pillars, that lay, like barriers, across her path. she stood listening in the middle of the hall and soon recognized in the alarming tones a sound that was only too familiar. without a moment's hesitation she started to run, and hastened to the sleeper, shook him, pushed him, called him, sprinkled his forehead with water, and appealed to him by the tenderest names with which her sister arsinoe was wont to coax him. when, in spite of all this, he neither spoke nor stirred, she flung the full light of the lamp on his face. then she thought she perceived that a bluish tinge had overspread his bloated features, and she broke into the deep, agonized, weeping which, a few hours previously had touched the architect's heart. there was a sudden stir behind the screens which enclosed the sculptor and the work in progress. pollux had been working for a long time with zeal and pleasure, but at last the steward's snoring had begun to disturb him. the body of the muse had already taken a definite form and he could begin to work out the head with the earliest dawn of day. he now dropped his arms wearily, for as soon as he ceased to create with his whole heart and mind he felt tired, and saw plainly that without a model he could do nothing satisfactory with the drapery of his urania. so he pulled his stool up to a great chest full of gypsum to get a little repose by leaning against it. but sleep avoided the artist who was too much excited by his rapid night's work, and as soon as selene opened the door he sat upright and peeped through an opening between the frames of his place of retirement. when he saw the tall draped figure in whose hand a lamp was trembling, when he watched her cross the spacious hall, and then suddenly stand still, he was not a little startled, but this did not hinder him from noting every step of the nocturnal spectre with far more curiosity than alarm. then, when selene looked round her, and the lamp illuminated her face, be recognized the steward's daughter, and immediately knew what she must be seeking. her vain attempts to rouse the sleeper, though somewhat pathetic, had in them at the same time something irresistibly ludicrous, and pollux felt sorely tempted to laugh. but as soon as selene began to weep so bitterly he hastily pushed apart two of the laths of the screen, went up and called her name, at first softly not to frighten her, and then more loudly. when she turned her head he begged her warmly not to be alarmed far he was no ghost, only a very humble and ordinary mortal, in fact-as she might see--nothing more, alas! than the son of euphorian, the gatekeeper, good for nothing as yet, but treading the path to something better. "you, pollux?" asked the girl with surprise. "the very man. but you--can i help you?" "my poor father," sobbed selene. "he does not stir, he is immovable-and his face--oh! merciful gods." "a man who snores is not dead," said the sculptor. "but the doctor told him--" "he is not even ill! pontius only gave him stronger wine to drink than he is used to. let him be; he is sleeping with the pillow under his neck, as comfortably as a child. when he began just now to trumpet a little too loud i whistled as loud as a plover, for that often silences a snorer; but i could more easily have made those stone muses dance than have roused him." "if only we could get him to bed." "well, if you have four horses at hand." "you are as bad as you ever were!" "a little less so, selene, only you must become accustomed again to my way of speaking. this time i only mean that we two together are not strong enough to carry him away." "but what can i do, then? the doctor said--" "never mind the doctor. the complaint your father is suffering from is one i know well. it will be gone to-morrow, perhaps by sundown, and the only pain it will leave behind, he will feel under his wig. only leave him to sleep." "but it is so cold here." "take my cloak and cover him with that." "then you will be frozen." "i am used to it. how long has keraunus had dealings with the doctor?" selene related the accident that had befallen her father and how justified were her fears. the sculptor listened to her in silence and then said in a quite altered tone: "i am truly sorry to hear it. let us put some cold water on his forehead, and until the slaves come back again i will change the wet cloth every quarter of an hour. here is a jar and a handkerchief--good, they might have been left on purpose. perhaps, too, it will wake him, and if not the people shall carry him to his own rooms." "disgraceful, disgraceful!" sighed the girl. "not at all; the high-priest of serapis even is sometimes unwell. only let me see to it." "it will excite him afresh if he sees you. he is so angry with you--so very angry." "omnipotent zeus, what harm have i done you, fat father! the gods forgive the sins of the wise, and a man will not forgive the fault committed by a stupid lad in a moment of imprudence." "you mocked at him." "i set a clay head that was like him on the shoulders of the fat silenus near the gate, that had lost its own head. it was my first piece of independent work." "but you did it to vex my father." "certainly not, selene; i was delighted with the joke and nothing more." "but you knew how touchy he is." "and does a wild boy of fifteen ever reflect on the consequences of his audacity? if he had but given me a thrashing his annoyance would have discharged itself like thunder and lightning, and the air would have been clear again. but, as it was, he cut the face off the work with a knife, and deliberately trod the pieces under foot as they lay on the ground. he gave me one single blow--with his thumb--which i still feel, it is true, and then he treated me and my parents with such scorn, so coldly and hardly, with such bitter contempt--" "he never is really violent, but wrath seems to eat him inwardly, and i have rarely seen him so angry as he was that time." "but if he had only settled the account with me on the spot! but my father was by, and hot words fell like rain, and my mother added her share, and from that time there has been utter hostility between our little house and you up here. what hurt me most was that you and your sister were forbidden to come to see us and to play with me." "that has spoilt many pleasant hours for me, too." "it was nice when we used to dress up in my father's theatrical finery and cloaks." "and when you made us dolls out of clay.". "or when we performed the olympian games." "i was always the teacher when we played at school with our little brothers and sisters." "arsinoe gave you most trouble." "oh! and what fun when we went fishing!" "and when we brought home the fishes and mother gave us meal and raisins to cook them." "do you remember the festival of adonis, and how i stopped the runaway horse of that numidian officer?" "the horse had knocked over arsinoe, and when we got home mother gave you an almond-cake." "and your ungrateful sister bit a great piece out of it and left me only a tiny morsel. is arsinoe as pretty as she promised to become? it is two years since i last saw her; at our place we never have time to leave work till it is dark. for eight months i had to work for the master at ptolemais, and often saw the old folks but once in the month." "we go out very little, too, and we are not allowed to go into your parents' house. my sister--" "is she pretty?" "yes, i think she is. whenever she can get hold of a piece of ribbon she plaits it in her hair, and the men in the street turn round to look at her. she is sixteen now." "sixteen! what, little arsinoe! why, how long then is it since your mother died?" "four years and eight months." "you remember the date very exactly; such a mother is not easily forgotten, indeed. she was a good woman and a kinder i never met. i know, too, that she tried to mollify your father's feeling, but she could not succeed, and then she need must die!" "yes," said selene gloomily. "how could the gods decree it! they are often more cruel than the hardest hearted man." "your poor little brothers and sisters!" the girl bowed her head sadly and pollux stood for some time with his eyes fixed on the ground. then he raised his head and exclaimed: "i have something for you that will please you." "nothing ever pleases me now she is dead." "yes, yes indeed," replied the young sculptor eagerly. "i could not forget the good soul, and once in my idle moments i modelled her bust from memory. to-morrow i will bring it to you." "oh!" cried selene, and her large heavy eyes brightened with a sunny gleam. "now, is not it true, you are pleased?" "yes indeed, very much. but when my father learns that it is you who have given me the portrait--" "is he capable of destroying it?" "if he does not destroy it, he will not suffer it in the house as soon as he knows that you made it." pollux took the handkerchief from the steward's head, moistened it afresh, and exclaimed as he rearranged it on the forehead of the sleeping man: "i have an idea. all that matters is that my bust should serve to remind you often of your mother; the bust need not stand in your rooms. the busts of the women of the house of ptolemy stand on the rotunda, which you can see from your balcony, and which you can pass whenever you please; some of them are badly mutilated and must be got rid of. i will undertake to restore the berenice and put your mother's head on her shoulders. then you have only to go out and look at her. will that do?" "yes, pollux; you are a good man." "so i told you just now. i am beginning to improve. but time--time! if i am to undertake to repair berenice i must begin by saving the minutes." "go back to your work now; i know how to apply a wet compress only too well." with these words selene threw back her mantle over her shoulders so as to leave her hands free for use, and stood with her slender figure, her pale face, and the fine broadly-flowing folds of rich stuff, like a statue in the eyes of the young sculptor. "stop--stay so--just so," cried pollux to the astonished girl, so loudly and eagerly that she was startled. "your cloak hangs with a wonderfully-free flow from your shoulders--in the name of all the gods do not touch it. if only i might model from it i should in a few minutes gain a whole day for our berenice. i will wet the handkerchief at intervals in the pauses." without waiting for selene's answer the sculptor hastened into his nook and returned first with one of the lamps he worked by in each hand, and some small tools in his mouth, and then fetched his wax model which he placed on the outer side of the table, behind which the steward was sleeping. the tapers were put out, the lamps pushed aside, and raised or lowered, and when at last a tolerably suitable light was procured pollux threw himself on a stool, straddled his legs, craned his head forward as far as his neck would allow, looking, with his hooked nose, like a vulture that strives to descry his distant prey-cast his eyes down, raised them again to take in something fresh, and after a long gaze looked down again while his fingers and nails moved over the surface of the wax-figure, sinking into the plastic material, applying new pieces to apparently complete portions, removing others with a decided nip and rounding them off with bewildering rapidity to use them for a fresh purpose. he seemed to be seized with cramp in his hands, but still under his knotted brow his eye shone earnest, resolute and calm, and yet full of profound and speechless inspiration. selene had said not a word that permitted his using her as a model; but, as if his enthusiasm was infectious, she remained motionless, and when, as he worked, his gaze met hers she could detect the stern earnestness which at this moment possessed her eager companion. neither of them opened their lips for some time. at last he stood back from his work, stooping low to look first at selene and then at his statuette with keen examination from head to foot; and then, drawing a deep breath, and rubbing the wax over with his finger, he said: "there, that is how it must go! now i will wet your father's handkerchief and then we can go on again. if you are tired you can rest." she availed herself but little of this permission and presently he began work again. as he proceeded carefully to replace some folds of her drapery which had fallen out of place, she moved her foot as if to draw back, but he begged her earnestly to stand still and she obeyed his request. pollux now used his fingers and modelling tools more calmly; his gaze was less wistful and he began to talk again. "you are very pale," he said. "to be sure the lamp-light and a sleepless night have something to do with it." "i look just the same by daylight, but i am not ill." "i thought arsinoe would have been like your mother, but now i see many features of her face in yours again. the oval of their form is the same and, in both, the line of the nose runs almost straight to the forehead; you have her eyes and the same bend of the brow, but your mouth is smaller and more sharply cut, and she could hardly have made such a heavy knot of her hair. i fancy, too, that yours is lighter than hers." "as a girl she must have had still more hair, and perhaps she may have been as fair as i was--i am brown now." "another thing you inherit from her is that your hair, without being curly, lies upon your head in such soft waves." "it is easy to keep in order." "are not you taller than she was?" "i fancy so, but as she was stouter she looked shorter. will you soon have done?" "you are getting tired of standing?" "not very." "then have a little more patience. your face reminds me more and more of our early years; i should be glad to see arsinoe once more. i feel at this moment as if time had moved backwards a good piece. have you the same feeling?" selene shook her head. "you are not happy?" "no." "i know full well that you have very heavy duties to perform for your age." "things go as they may." "nay, nay. i know you do not let things go haphazard. you take care of your brothers and sisters like a mother." "like a mother!" repeated selene, and she smiled a bitter negative. "of course a mother's love is a thing by itself, but your father and the little ones have every reason to be satisfied with yours." "the little ones are perhaps, and helios who is blind, but arsinoe does what she can." "you certainly are not content, i can hear it in your voice, and you used formerly to be as merry and happy as your sister, though perhaps not so saucy." "formerly--" "how sadly that sounds! and yet you are handsome, you are young, and life lies before you." "but what a life!" "well, what?" asked the sculptor, and taking his hands from his work he looked ardently at the fair pale girl before him and cried out fervently: "a life which might be full of happiness and satisfied affection." the girl shook her head in negation and answered coldly: "'love is joy,' says the christian woman who superintends us at work in the papyrus factory, and since my mother died i have had no love. i enjoyed all my share of happiness once for all in my childhood, now i am content if only we are spared the worst misfortunes. otherwise i take what each day brings, because i can not do otherwise. my heart is empty, and if i ever feel anything keenly, it is dread. i have long since ceased to expect any thing good of the future." "girl!" exclaimed pollux. "why, what has been happening to you? i do not understand half of what you are saying. how came you in the papyrus factory?" "do not betray me," begged selene. "if my father were to hear of it." "he is asleep, and what you confide to me no one will ever hear of again." "why should i conceal it? i go every day with arsinoe for two hours to the manufactory, and we work there to earn a little money." "behind your father's back?" "yes, he would rather that we should starve than allow it. every day i feel the same loathing for the deceit; but we could not get on without it, for arsinoe thinks of nothing but herself, plays draughts with my father, curls his hair, plays with the children as if they were dolls, but it is my part to take care of them." "and you, you say, have no share of love. happily no one believes you, and i least of all. only lately my mother was telling me about you, and i thought you were a girl who might turn out just such a wife as a woman ought to be." "and now?" "now, i know it for certain." "you may be mistaken." "no, no! your name is selene, and you are as gentle as the kindly moonlight; names, even, have their significance." "and my blind brother who has never even seen the light is called helios!" answered the girl. pollux had spoken with much warmth, but selene's last words startled him and checked the effervescence of his feelings. finding he did not answer her bitter exclamation, she said, at first coolly, but with increasing warmth: "you are beginning to believe me, and you are right, for what i do for the children is not done out of love, or out of kindness, or because i set their welfare above my own. i have inherited my father's pride, and it would be odious to me if my brothers and sisters went about in rags, and people thought we were as poor and helpless as we really are. what is most horrible to me is sickness in the house, for that increases the anxiety i always feel and swallows up my last coin; the children must not perish for want of it. i do not want to make myself out worse than i am; it grieves me too to see them drooping. but nothing that i do brings me happiness--at most it moderates my fears. you ask what i am afraid of? --of everything, everything that can happen to me, for i have no reason to look forward to anything good. when there is a knock, it may be a creditor; when people look at arsinoe in the street, i seem to see dishonor lurking round her; when my father acts against the advice of the physician i feel as if we were standing already roofless in the open street. what is there that i can do with a happy mind? i certainly am not idle, still i envy the woman who can sit with her hands in her lap and be waited on by slaves, and if a golden treasure fell into my possession, i would never stir a finger again, and would sleep every day till the sun was high and make slaves look after my father and the children. my life is sheer misery. if ever we see better days i shall be astonished, and before i have got over my astonishment it will all be over." the sculptor felt a cold chill, and his heart which had opened wide to his old playfellow shrank again within him. before he could find the right words of encouragement which he sought, they heard in the hall, where the workmen and slaves were sleeping, the blast of a trumpet intended to awake them. selene started, drew her mantle more closely round her, begged pollux to take care of her father, and to hide the wine-jar which was standing near him from the work-people and then, forgetting her lamp, she went hastily toward the door by which she had entered. pollux hurried after her to light the way and while he accompanied her as far as the door of her rooms, by his warm and urgent words which appealed wonderfully to her heart, he extracted from her a promise to stand once more in her mantle as his model. a quarter of an hour later the steward was safe in bed and still sleeping soundly, while pollux, who had stretched himself on a mattress behind his screen, could not for a long time cease to think of the pale girl with her benumbed soul. at last sleep overcame him too, and a sweet dream showed him pretty little arsinoe, who but for him must infallibly have been killed by the numidian's restive horse, taking away her sister selene's almond-cake and giving it to him. the pale girl submitted quietly to the robbery and only smiled coldly and silently to herself. chapter vi. alexandria was in the greatest excitement. the emperor's visit now immediately impending had tempted the busy hive of citizens away from the common round of life in which, day after day, --swarming, hurrying, pushing each other on, or running each other down-they raced for bread and for the means of filling their hours of leisure with pleasures and amusements. the unceasing wheel of industry to-day had pause in the factories, workshops, storehouses and courts of justice, for all sorts and conditions of men were inspired by the same desire to celebrate hadrian's visit with unheard-of splendor. all that the citizens could command of inventive skill, of wealth, and of beauty was called forth to be displayed in the games and processions which were to fill up a number of days. the richest of the heathen citizens had undertaken the management of the pieces to be performed in the theatre, of the mock fight on the lake, and of the sanguinary games in the amphitheatre; and so great was the number of opulent persons that many more were prepared to pay for smaller projects, for which there was no opening. nevertheless the arrangements for certain portions of the procession, in which even the less wealthy were to take a share, the erection of the building in the hippodrome, the decorations in the streets, and the preparations for entertaining the roman visitors absorbed sums so large that they seemed extravagant even to the prefect titianus, who was accustomed to see his fellow-officials in rome squander millions. as the emperor's viceroy it behoved him to give his assent to all that was planned to feast his sovereign's eye and ear. on the whole, he left the citizens of the great town free to act as they would; but he had, more than once, to exert a decided opposition to their overdoing the thing; for though the emperor might be able to endure a vast amount of pleasure, what the alexandrians originally proposed to provide for him to see and hear would have exhausted the most indefatigable human energy. that which gave the greatest trouble, not merely to him, but also to the masters of the revels chosen by the municipality, were the never-dormant hostility between the heathen and the jewish sections of the inhabitants, and the processions, since no division chose to come last, nor would any number be satisfied to be only the third or the fourth. it was from a meeting, where his determined intervention had at last brought all these preliminaries to a decision beyond appeal, that titianus proceeded to the caesareum to pay the empress the visit which she expected of him daily. he was glad to have come to some conclusion, at any rate provisionally, with regard to these matters, for six days had slipped away since the works had been begun in the palace of lochias, and hadrian's arrival was nearing rapidly. he found sabina, as usual, on her divan, but on this occasion the empress was sitting upright on her cushions. she seemed quite to have got over the fatigues of the sea-voyage, and in token that she felt better she had applied more red to her cheeks and lips than three days ago, and because she was to receive a visit from the sculptors, papias and aristeas, she had had her hair arranged as it was worn in the statue of venus victrix, with whose attributes she had, five years previously--though not, it is true, without some resistance--been represented in marble. when a copy of this statue had been erected in alexandria, an evil tongue had made a speech which was often repeated among the citizens. "this aphrodite is triumphant to be sure, for all who see her make haste to fly; she should be called cypris the scatterer." titianus was still under the excitement of the embittered squabbles and unpleasing exhibitions of character at which he had just been present when he entered the presence of the empress, whom he found in a small room with no one but the chamberlain and a few ladies-in-waiting. to the prefect's respectful inquiries after her health, she shrugged her shoulders and replied: "how should i be? if i said well it would not be true; if i said ill, i should be surrounded with pitiful faces, which are not pleasant to look at. after all we must endure life. still, the innumerable doors in these rooms will be the death of me if i am compelled to remain here long." titianus glanced at the two doors of the room in which the empress was sitting, and began to express his regrets at their bad condition, which had escaped his notice; but sabina interrupted him, saying: "you men never do observe what hurts us women. our verus is the only man who can feel and understand--who can divine it, as i might say. there are five and thirty doors in my rooms! i had them counted-five and thirty! if they were not old and made of valuable wood i should really believe they had been made as a practical joke on me." "some of them might be supplemented with curtains." "oh! never mind--a few miseries, more or less in any life do not matter. are the alexandrians ready at last with their preparations?" "i am sure i hope so," said the prefect with a sigh. they are bent on giving all that is their best; but in the endeavor to outvie each other every one is at war with his neighbor, and i still feel the effects of the odious wrangling which i have had to listen to for hours, and that i have been obliged to check again and again with threats of 'i shall be down upon you.'" "indeed," said the empress with a pinched smile, as if she had heard some thing that pleased her. "tell me something about your meeting. i am bored to death, for verus, balbilla and the others have asked for leave of absence that they may go to inspect the work doing at lochias; i am accustomed to find that people would rather be any where than with me. can i wonder then that my presence is not enough to enable a friend of my husband's to forget a little annoyance--the impression left by some slight misunderstanding? but my fugitives are a long time away; there must be a great deal that is beautiful to be seen at lochias." the prefect suppressed his annoyance and did not express his anxiety lest the architect and his assistants should be disturbed, but began in the tone of the messenger in a tragedy: "the first quarrel was fought over the order of the procession." "sit a little farther off," said sabina pressing her jewelled right-hand on her ear, as if she were suffering a pain in it. the prefect colored slightly, but he obeyed the desire of caesar's wife and went on with his story, pitching his voice in a somewhat lower key than before: "well, it was about the procession, that the first breach of the peace arose." "i have heard that once already," replied the lady, yawning. "i like processions." "but," said the prefect, a man in the beginning of the sixties--and he spoke with some irritation, "here as in rome and every where else, where they are not controlled by the absolute will of a single individual, processions are the children of strife, and they bring forth strife, even when they are planned in honor of a festival of peace." "it seems to annoy you that they should be organized in honor of hadrian?" "you are in jest; it is precisely because i care particularly that they should be carried out with all possible splendor, that i am troubling myself about them in person, even as to details; and to my great satisfaction i have been able even to subdue the most obstinate; still it was scarcely my duty--" "i fancied that you not only served the state but were my husband's friend." "i am proud to call myself so." "aye--hadrian has many, very many friends since he has worn the purple. have you got over your ill temper titianus? you must have become very touchy. poor julia has an irritable husband!" "she is less to be pitied than you think," said titianus with dignity, "for my official duties so entirely claim my time that she is not often likely to know what disturbs me. if i have forgotten to dissimulate my vexation before you, i beg you to pardon me, and to attribute it to my zeal in securing a worthy reception for hadrian." "as if i had scolded you! but to return to your wife--as i understand she shares the fate i endure. we poor women have nothing to expect from our husbands, but the stale leavings that remain after business has absorbed the rest! but your story--go on with your story." "the worst moments i had at all were given me by the bad feeling of the jews towards the other citizens." "i hate all these infamous sects--jews, christians or whatever they are called! do they dare to grudge their money for the reception of caesar?" "on the contrary alabarchos, their wealthy chief, has offered to defray all the cost of the naumachia and his co-religionist artemion." "well, take their money, take their money." "the greek citizens feel that they are rich enough to pay all the expenses, which will amount to many millions of sesterces, and they wish to exclude the jews, if possible, from all the processions and games." "they are perfectly right." "but allow me to ask you whether it is just to prohibit half the population of alexandria doing honor to their emperor!" "oh! hadrian will, with pleasure, dispense with the honor. our conquering heroes have thought it redounded to their glory to be called africanus, germanicus and dacianus, but titus refused to be called judaicus when he had destroyed jerusalem." "that was because he dreaded the remembrance of the rivers of blood which had to be shed in order to break the fearfully obstinate resistance of that nation. the besieged had to be conquered limb by limb, and finger by finger, before they would make up their minds to yield." "again you are speaking half poetically, or have these people elected you as their advocate?" "i know them and make every effort to secure them justice, just as much as any other citizen of this country which i govern in the name of the empire and of caesar. they pay taxes as well as the rest of the alexandrians; nay more, for there are many wealthy men among them who are honorably prominent in trade, in professions, learning and art, and i therefore mete to them the same measure as to the other inhabitants of this city. their superstition offends me no more than that of the egyptians." "but it really is above all measure. at aelia capitolina which hadrian had decorated with several buildings, they refused to sacrifice to the statues of zeus and hera. that is to say they scorn to do homage to me and my husband!" "they are forbidden to worship any other divinity than their own god. aelia rose up on the very soil where their ruined jerusalem had stood, and the statues of which you speak stand in their holy places." "what has that to do with us?" "you know that even caius--[caligula]--could not reduce them by placing his statue in the holy of holies of their temple; and petronius, the governor, had to confess that to subdue them meant to exterminate them." "then let them meet with the fate they deserve, let them be exterminated!" cried sabina. "exterminated?" asked the prefect. "in alexandria they constitute nearly half of the citizens, that is to say several hundred thousand of obedient subjects, exterminated!" "so many?" asked the empress in alarm." but that is frightful. omnipotent jove! supposing that mass were to revolt against us! no one ever told me of this danger. in cyrenaica, and at salamis in cyprus, they killed their fellow-citizens by thousands." "they had been provoked to extremities and they were superior to their oppressors in force." "and in their own land one revolt after another is organized." "by reason of the sacrifices of which we were speaking." "tinnius rufus is at present the legate in palestine. he has a horribly shrill voice--but he looks like a man who will stand no trifling, and will know how to quell the venomous brood." "possibly" replied titianus. "but i fear that he will never attain his end by mere severity; and if he should he will have depopulated his province." "there are already too many men in the empire." "but never enough good and useful citizens." "outrageous contemners of the gods and useless citizens!" "here in alexandria, where many have accommodated themselves to greek habits of life and thought, and where all have adopted the greek tongue, they are undoubtedly good citizens, and wholly devoted to caesar." "do they take part in the rejoicings?" "yes, as far as the greek citizens will allow them." "and the arrangement of the water-fight?" "that will not be given over to them, but artemion will be permitted to supply the wild beasts for the games in the amphitheatre." "and he was not avaricious about it?" "so far from it that you will be astonished. the man must know the secret of midas, of turning stones into gold." "and are there many like him among your jews?" "a good number." "then i wish that they would attempt a revolt, for if this led to the destruction of the rich ones, their gold, at any rate, would remain." "meanwhile i will try and keep them alive, as being good rate-payers." "and does hadrian share your wish?" "without doubt." "your successor may perhaps bring him to another mind." "he always acts according to his own judgment, and for the present i am in office," answered titianus haughtily. "and may the god of the jews long preserve you in it!" retorted sabina scornfully. chapter vii. before titianus could open his lips to reply, the principal door of the room was opened cautiously but widely, and the praetor lucius aurelius verus, his wife domitia lucilla, the young balbilla and, last of all, annaeus florus, the historian, entered. all four were in the best spirits, and immediately after the preliminary greetings, were eager to report what they had seen at lochias; but sabina waved silence with her hand, and breathed out: "no, no; not at present. i feel quite exhausted. this long waiting, and then--my smelling-bottle, verus. leukippe, bring me a cup of water with some fruit-syrup--but not so sweet as usual." the greek slave-girl hastened to execute this command, and the empress, as she waved an elegant bottle carved in onyx, under her nostrils, went on: "it is a little eternity--is it not, titianus, that we have been discussing state affairs? you all know how frank i am and that i cannot be silent when i meet with perverse opinions. while you have been away i have had much to hear and to say; it would have exhausted the strength of the strongest. i only wonder you don't find me more worn out, for what can be more excruciating for a woman, that to be obliged to enter the lists for manly decisiveness against a man who is defending a perfectly antagonistic view? give me water, leukippe." while the empress drank the syrup with tiny sips twitching her thin lips over it, verus went up to the prefect and asked him in an under tone: "you were a long while alone with sabina, cousin?" yes," replied titianus, and he set his teeth as he spoke and clenched his fist so hard that the praetor could not misunderstand, and replied in a low voice: "she is much to be pitied, and particularly just now she has hours--" "what sort of hours?" asked sabina taking the cup from her lips. "these," replied verus quickly, "in which i am not obliged to occupy myself in the senate or with the affairs of state. to whom do i owe them but to you?" with these words he approached the mature beauty, and taking the goblet out of her hand with affectionate subservience, as a son might wait on his honored and suffering mother, he gave it to the greek slave. the empress bowed her thanks again and again to the praetor with much affability, and then said, with a slight infusion of cheerfulness in her tones: "well--and what is there to be seen at lochias?" "wonderful things," answered balbilla readily and clasping her little hands. "a swarm of bees, a colony of ants, have taken possession of the palace. hands black, white and brown--more than we could count, are busy there and of all the hundreds of workmen which are astir there, not one got in the way of another, for one little man orders and manages them all, just as the prescient wisdom of the gods guides the stars through the 'gracious and merciful night' so that they may never push or run against each other." "i must put in a word on behalf of pontius the architect," interposed verus. "he is a man of at least average height." "let us admit it to satisfy your sense of justice," returned balbilla. "let us admit it--a man of average height, with a papyrus-roll in his right-hand and a stylus in the left, controls them. now, does my way of stating it please you better?" "it can never displease me," answered the praetor. "let balbilla go on with her story," commanded the empress. "what we saw was chaos," continued the girl, "still in the confusion we could divine the elements of an orderly creation in the future; nay, it was even visible to the eye." "and not unfrequently stumbled over with the foot," laughed the praetor. "if it had been dark, and if the laborers had been worms, we must have trodden half of them to death--they swarmed so all over the pavement." "what were they doing?" "every thing," answered balbilla quickly. "some were polishing damaged pieces, others were laying new bits of mosaic in the empty places from which it had formerly been removed, and skilled artists were painting colored figures on smooth surfaces of plaster. every pillar and every statue was built round with a scaffolding reaching to the ceiling on which men were climbing and crowding each other just as the sailors climb into the enemy's ships in the naumachia." the girl's pretty cheeks had flushed with her eager reminiscence of what she had seen, and, as she spoke, moving her hands with expressive gestures, the tall structure of curls which crowned her small head shook from side to side. "your description begins to be quite poetical," said the empress, interrupting her young companion. "perhaps the muse may even inspire you with verse." "all the pierides," said the praetor, "are represented at lochias. we saw eight of them, but the ninth, that patroness of the arts, who protects the stargazer, the lofty urania, has at present, in place of a head--allow me to leave it to you to guess divine sabina?" "well--what?" "a wisp of straw." "alas," sighed the empress. "what do you say, florus? are there not among your learned and verse spinning associates certain men who resemble this urania?" "at any rate," replied florus, "we are more prudent than the goddess, for we conceal the contents of our heads in the hard nut of the skull, and under a more or less abundant thatch of hair. urania displays her straw openly." "that almost sounds," said balbilla laughing and pointing to her abundant locks, "as if i especially needed to conceal what is covered by my hair." "even the lesbian swan was called the fair-haired," replied florus. "and you are our sappho," said the praetor's wife, drawing the girl's arm to her bosom. "really! and will you not write in verse all that you have seen to-day?" asked the empress. balbilla looked down on the ground a minute and then said brightly: "it might inspire me, everything strange that i meet with prompts me to write verse." "but follow the counsel of apollonius the philologer," advised florus. "you are the sappho of our day, and therefore you should write in the ancient aeolian dialect and not attic greek." verus laughed, and the empress, who never was strongly moved to laughter, gave a short sharp giggle, but balbilla said eagerly: "do you think that i could not acquire it and do so? to-morrow morning i will begin to practise myself in the old aeolian forms." "let it alone," said domitia lucilla; "your simplest songs are always the prettiest." "no one shall laugh at me!" declared balbilla pertinaciously. "in a few weeks i will know how to use the aeolian dialect, for i can do anything i am determined to do--anything, anything." "what a stubborn little head we have under our curls!" exclaimed the empress, raising a graciously threatening finger. "and what powers of apprehension," added florus. "her master in language and metre told me his best pupil was a woman of noble family and a poetess besides--balbilla in short." the girl colored at the words, and said with pleased excitement: "are you flattering me or did hephaestion really say that?" "woe is me!" cried the praetor, "for hephaestion was my master too, and i am one of the masculine scholars beaten by balbilla. but it is no news to me, for the alexandrian himself told me the same thing as florus." "you follow ovid and she sappho," said florus; "you write in latin and she in greek. do you still always carry ovid's love-poems about with you?" "always," replied verus, "as alexander did his homer." "and out of respect for his master your husband endeavors, by the grace of venus, to live like him," added sabina, addressing herself to domitia lucilla. the tall and handsome roman lady only shrugged her shoulders slightly in answer to this not very kindly-meant speech; but verus said, while he picked up sabina's silken coverlet, and carefully spread it over her knees: "my happiest fortune consists in this: that venus victrix favors me. but we are not yet at the end of our story; our lesbian swan met at lochias with another rare bird, an artist in statuary." "how long have the sculptors been reckoned among birds?" asked sabina. "at the utmost can they be compared to woodpeckers." "when they work in wood," laughed verus. "our artist, however, is an assistant of papias, and handles noble materials in the grand style. on this occasion, however, he is building a statue out of a very queer mixture of materials." "verus may very well call our new acquaintance a bird," interrupted balbilla, "for as we approached the screen behind which he is working he was whistling a tune with his lips, so pure and cheery, and loud, that it rang through the empty hall above all the noise of the workmen. a nightingale does not pipe more sweetly. we stood still to listen till the merry fellow, who had no idea that we were by, was silent again; and then hearing the architect's voice, he called to him over the screen. 'now we must clap urania's head on; i saw it clearly in my mind and would have had it finished with a score of touches, but papias said he had one in the workshop. i am curious to see what sort of a sugarplum face, turned out by the dozen, he will stick on my torso--which will please me, at any rate, for a couple of days. find me a good model for the bust of the sappho i am to restore. a thousand gadflies are buzzing in my brain --i am so tremendously excited! what i am planning now will come to something!'" balbilla, as she spoke the last words, tried to mimic a man's deep voice, and seeing the empress smile she went on eagerly. "it all came out so fresh, from a heart full to bursting of happy vigorous creative joy, that it quite fired me, and we all went up to the screen and begged the sculptor to let us see his work." "and you found?" asked sabina. "he positively refused to let us into his retreat," replied the praetor; "but balbilla coaxed the permission out of him, and the tall young fellow seems to have really learnt something. the fall of the drapery that covers the muse's figure is perfectly thought out with reference to possibility--rich, broadly handled, and at the same time of surprising delicacy. urania has drawn her mantle closely round her, as if to protect herself from the keen night-air while gazing at the stars. when he has finished his muse, he is to repair some mutilated busts of women; he was fixing the head of a finished berenice to-day, and i proposed to him to take balbilla as the model for his sappho." "a good idea" said the empress. "if the bust is successful i will take him with me to rome." "i will sit to him with pleasure," said the girl. "the bright young fellow took my fancy." "and balbilla his," added the praetor's wife; he gazed at her as a marvel, and she promised him that, with your permission, she would place her face at his disposal for three hours to-morrow." "he begins with the head," interposed verus. "what a happy man is an artist such as he! he may turn about her head, or lay her peplum in folds without reproof or repulse, and to-day when we had to get past bogs of plaster, and lakes of wet paint, she scarcely picked up the hem of her dress, and never once allowed me--who would so willingly have supported her--to lift her over the worst places." balbilla reddened and said angrily: "really verus, in good earnest, i will not allow you to speak to me in that way, so now you know it once for all; i have so little liking for what is not clean that i find it quite easy to avoid it without assistance." "you are too severe," interrupted the empress with a hideous smile. "do not you think domitia lucilla, that she ought to allow your husband to be of service to her?" "if the empress thinks it right and fitting," replied the lady raising her shoulders, and with an expressive movement of her hands. sabina quite took her meaning, and suppressing another yawn she said angrily: "in these days we must be indulgent toward a husband who has chosen ovid's amatory poems as his faithful companion. what is the matter titianus?" while balbilla had been relating her meeting with the sculptor pollux, a chamberlain had brought in to the prefect an important letter, admitting of no delay. the state official had withdrawn to the farther side of the room with it, had broken the strong seal and had just finished reading it, when the empress asked her question. nothing of what went on around her escaped sabina's little eyes, and she had observed that while the governor was considering the document addressed to him he had moved uneasily. it must contain something of importance. "an urgent letter," replied titianus, "calls me home. i must take my leave, and i hope ere long to be able to communicate to you something agreeable." "what does that letter contain?" "important news from the provinces," said titianus. "may i inquire what?" "i grieve to say that i must answer in the negative. the emperor expressly desired that this matter should be kept secret. its settlement demands the promptest haste, and i am therefore unfortunately obliged to quit you immediately." sabina returned the prefect's parting salutations with icy coldness and immediately desired to be conducted to her private rooms to dress herself for supper. balbilla escorted her, and florus betook himself to the "olympian table," the famous eating-house kept by lycortas, of whom he had been told wonders by the epicures at rome. when verus was alone with his wife he went up in a friendly manner and said: "may i drive you home again?" domitia lucilla had thrown herself on a couch, and covered her face with her hands, and she made no reply. "may i?" repeated the praetor. as his wife persisted in her silence, he went nearer to her, laid his hand on her slender fingers that concealed her face, and said: "i believe you are angry with me!" she pushed away his hand, with a slight movement, and said: "leave me." "yes, unfortunately i must leave you. business takes me into the city and i will--" "you will let the young alexandrians, with whom you revelled through the night, introduce you to new fair ones--i know it." "there are in fact women here of incredible charm," replied verus quite coolly. white, brown, copper-colored, black--and all delightful in their way. i could never be tired of admiring them." "and your wife?" asked lucilla, facing him, sternly. "my wife? yes, my fairest. wife is a solemn title of honor and has nothing to do with the joys of life. how could i mention your name in the same hour with those of the poor children who help me to beguile an idle hour." domitia lucilla was used to such phrases, and yet on this occasion they gave her a pang. but she concealed it, and crossing her arms she said resolutely and with dignity: "go your way--through life with your ovid, and your gods of love, but do not attempt to crush innocence under the wheels of your chariot." "balbilla do you mean," asked the praetor with a loud laugh. "she knows how to take care of herself and has too much spirit to let herself get entangled in erotics. the little son of venus has nothing to say to two people who are such good friends as she and i are." "may i believe you?" "my word for it, i ask nothing of her but a kind word," cried he, frankly offering his hand to his wife. lucilla only touched it lightly with her fingers and said: "send me back to rome. i have an unutterable longing to see my children, particularly the boys." "it cannot be," said verus. "not at present; but in a few weeks, i hope." "why not sooner?" "do not ask me." "a mother may surely wish to know why she is separated from her baby in the cradle." "that cradle is at present in your mother's house, and she is taking care of our little ones. have patience, a little longer for that which i am striving after, for you, and for me, and not last, for our son, is so great, so stupendously great and difficult that it might well outweigh years of longing." verus spoke the last words in a low tone, but with a dignity which characterized him only in decisive moments, but his wife, even before he had done speaking, clasped his right-hand in both of hers and said in a low frightened voice: "you aim at the purple?" he nodded assent. "that is what it means then!" "what?" "sabina and you--" "not on that account only; she is hard and sharp to others, but to me she has shown nothing but kindness, ever since i was a boy." "she hates me." "patience, lucilla; patience! the day is coming when the daughter of nigrinus, the wife of caesar, and the former empress--but i will not finish. i am, as you know, warmly attached to sabina, and sincerely wish the emperor a long life." "and he will adopt." "hush!--he is thinking of it, and his wife wishes it." "is it likely to happen soon?" "who can tell at this moment what caesar may decide on in the very next hour. but probably his decision may be made on the thirtieth of december." "your birthday." "he asked what day it was, and he is certainly casting my horoscope, for the night when my mother bore me--" "the stars then are to seal our fate?" "not they alone. hadrian must also be inclined to read them in my favor." "how can i be of use to you?" "show yourself what you really are in your intercourse with the emperor" "i thank you for those words--and i beg you do not provoke me any more. if it might yet be something more than a mere post of honor to be the wife of verus, i would not ask for the new dignity of becoming wife to caesar." "i will not go into the town to-day; i will stay with you. now are you happy?" "yes, yes," cried she, and she raised her arm to throw it round her husband's neck, but he held her aside and whispered: "that will do. the idyllic is out of place in the race for the purple." chapter viii. titianus had ordered his charioteer to drive at once to lochias. the road led past the prefect's palace, his residence on the bruchiom, and he paused there; for the letter which lay hidden in the folds of his toga, contained news, which, within a few hours, might put him under the necessity of not returning home till the following morning. without allowing himself to be detained by the officials, subalterns, or lictors, who were awaiting his return to make communications, or to receive his orders, he went straight through the ante-room and the large public rooms for men, to find his wife in the women's apartments which looked upon the garden. he met her at the door of her room, for she had heard his step approaching and came out to receive him. "i was not mistaken," said the matron with sincere pleasure. "how pleasant that you have been released so early to-day. i did not expect you till supper was over." "i have come only to go again," replied titianus, entering his wife's room. "have some bread brought to me and a cup of mixed wine; why-really! here stands all i want ready as if i had ordered it. you are right, i was with sabina a shorter time than usual; but she exerted herself in that short time to utter as many sour words as if we had been talking for half a day. and in five minutes i must quit you again, till when?--the gods alone know when i shall return. it is hard even to speak the words, but all our trouble and care, and all poor pontius' zeal and pains-taking labor are in vain." as he spoke the prefect threw himself on a couch; his wife handed him the refreshment he had asked for, and said, as she passed her hand over his grey hair: "poor man! has hadrian then determined after all to inhabit the caesareum?" "no. leave us, syra--you shall see directly. please read me caesar's letter once more. here it is." julia unfolded the papyrus, which was of elegant quality, and began: "hadrian to his friend titianus, the governor of egypt. the deepest secrecy--hadrian greets titianus, as he has so often done for years at the beginning of disagreeable business letters, and only with half his heart. but to-morrow he hopes to greet the dear friend of his youth, his prudent vicegerent, not merely with his whole soul, but with hand and tongue. and "now to be more explicit, as follows: i come to-morrow morning, the fifteenth of december, towards evening, to alexandria, with none but antinous, the slave mastor, and my private secretary, phlegon. we land at lochias, in the little harbor, and you will know my ship by a large silver star at the prow. if night should fall before i arrive there, three red lanterns at the end of the mast shall inform you of the friend that is approaching. i have sent home the learned and witty men whom you sent to meet me, in order to detain me, and gain time for the restoration of the old nest in which i had a fancy to roost with minerva's birds--which have not, i hope, all been driven out of it--in order that sabina and her following may not lack entertainment, nor the famous gentlemen themselves be unnecessarily disturbed in their labors. i need them not. if perchance it was not you who sent them, i ask your pardon. an error in this matter would certainly involve some humiliation, for it is easier to explain what has happened than to foresee what is to come. or is the reverse the truth? i will indemnify the learned men for their useless journey by disputing this question with them and their associates in the museum. the rapid movement to which the philologer was prompted on my account will prolong his existence; he bristles with learning at the tip of every hair, and he sits still more than is good for him. "we shall arrive in modest disguise and will sleep at lochias; you know that i have rested more than once on the bare earth, and, if need be, can sleep as well on a mat as on a couch. my pillow follows at my heels--my big dog, which you know; and some little room, where i can meditate undisturbed on my designs for next year, can no doubt be found. "i entreat you to keep my secret strictly. to none--man nor woman--and i beseech you as urgently as friend or caesar ever besought a favor--let the least suspicion of my arrival be known. nor must the smallest preparation betray whom it is you receive. i cannot command so dear a friend as titianus, but i appeal to his heart to carry out my wishes. "i rejoice to see you again; what delight i shall find in the whirl of confusion that i hope to find at lochias. you shall take me to see the artists, who are, no doubt, swarming in the old castle, as the architect claudius venator from rome, who is to assist pontius with his advice. but this pontius, who carried out such fine works for herodes atticus, the rich sophist, met me at his house, and will certainly recognize me. tell him, therefore, what i propose doing. he is a serious and trustworthy man, not a chatterbox or scatter-brained simpleton who loses his head. thus you may take him into the secret, but not till my vessel is in sight. may all be well with you." "well, what do you say to that?" asked titianus, taking the letter from his wife's hand. "is it not more than vexatious--our work was going on so splendidly." "but," said julia thoughtfully and with a meaning smile. "perhaps it might not have been finished in time. as matters now stand it need not be complete, and hadrian will see the good intention all the same. i am glad about the letter, for it takes a great responsibility off your otherwise overloaded shoulders." "you always see the right side," cried the prefect. "it is well that i came home, for i can await caesar with a much lighter heart. let me lock up the letter, and then farewell. this parting is for some hours from you, and from all peace for many days." titianus gave her his hand. she held it firmly and said: "before you go i must confess to you that i am very proud." "you have every right to be." "but you have not said a word to me about keeping silence." "because you have kept other tests--still, to be sure, you are a woman, and a very handsome one besides." "an old grandmother, with grey hair!" "and still more upright and more charming than a thousand of the most admired younger beauties." "you are trying to convert my pride into vanity, in my old age." "no, no! i was only looking at you with an examining eye, as our talk led me to do, and i remembered that sabina had lamented that handsome julia was not looking well. but where is there another woman of your age with such a carriage, such unwrinkled features, so clear a brow, such deep kind eyes, such beautifully-polished arms--" "be quiet," exclaimed his wife. "you make me blush." "and may i not be proud that a grandmother, who is a roman, as my wife is, can find it so easy to blush? you are quite different from other women." "because you are different from other men." "you are a flatterer; since all our children have left us, it is as if we were newly married again." "ah! the apple of discord is removed." "it is always over what he loves best that man is most prompt to be jealous. but now, once more, farewell." titianus kissed his wife's forehead and hurried towards the door; julia called him back and said: "one thing at any rate we can do for caesar. i send food every day down to the architect at lochias, and to-day there shall be three times the quantity." "good; do so." "farewell, then." "and we shall meet again, when it shall please the gods and the emperor." ........................ when the prefect reached the appointed spot, no vessel with a silver star was to be seen. the sun went down and no ship with three red lanterns was visible. the harbor-master, into whose house titianus went, was told that he expected a great architect from rome, who was to assist pontius with his counsel in the works at lochias, and he thought it quite intelligible that the governor should do a strange artist the honor of coming to meet him; for the whole city was well aware of the incredible haste and the lavish outlay of means that were being given to the restoration of the ancient palace of the ptolemies as a residence for the emperor. while he was waiting, titianus remembered the young sculptor pollux, whose acquaintance he had made, and his mother in the pretty little gatehouse. well disposed towards them as he felt, he sent at once to old doris, desiring her not to retire to rest early that evening, since he, the prefect, would be going late to lochias. "tell her, too, as from yourself and not from me," titianus instructed the messenger, "that i may very likely look in upon her. she may light up her little room and keep it in order." no one at lochias had the slightest suspicion of the honor which awaited the old palace. after verus had quitted it with his wife and balbilla, and when he had again been at work for about an hour the sculptor pollux came out of his nook, stretching himself, and called out to pontius, who was standing on a scaffold: "i must either rest or begin upon something new. one cures me of fatigue as much as the other. do you find it so?" "yes, just as you do," replied the architect, as he continued to direct the work of the slave-masons, who were fixing a new corinthian capital in the place of an old one which had been broken. "do not disturb yourself," pollux cried up to him. "i only request you to tell my master papias when he comes here with gabinius, the dealer in antiquities, that he will find me at the rotunda that you inspected with me yesterday. i am going to put the head on to the berenice; my apprentice must long since have completed his preparations; but the rascal came into the world with two left-hands, and as he squints with one eye everything that is straight looks crooked to him, and--according to the law of optics--the oblique looks straight. at any rate, he drove the peg which is to support the new head askew into the neck, and as no historian has recorded that berenice ever had her neck on one side, like the old color-grinder there, i must see to its being straight myself. in about half an hour, as i calculate, the worthy queen will no longer be one of the headless women." "where did you get the new head?" asked pontius. "from the secret archives of my memory," replied pollux. "have you seen it?" "yes." "and do you like it?" "very much." "then it is worthy to live," sang the sculptor, and, as he quitted the hall, he waved his left-hand to the architect, and with his right-hand stuck a pink, which he had picked in the morning, behind his ear. at the rotunda his pupil had done his business better than his master could have expected, but pollux was by no means satisfied with his own arrangements. his work, like several others standing on the same side of the platform, turned its back on the steward's balcony, and the only reason why he had parted with the portrait of selene's mother, of which he was so fond, was that his playfellow might gaze at the face whenever she chose. he found, however, to his satisfaction, that the busts were held in their places on their tall pedestals only by their own weight, and he then resolved to alter the historical order of the portrait-heads by changing their places, and to let the famous cleopatra turn her back upon the palace, so that his favorite bust might look towards it. in order to carry out this purpose then and there, he called some slaves up to help him in the alteration. this gave rise, more than once, to a warning cry, and the loud talking and ordering on this spot, for so many years left solitary and silent, attracted an inquirer, who, soon after the apprentice had begun his work, had shown herself on the balcony, but who had soon retreated after casting a glance at the dirty lad, splashed from head to foot with plaster. this time, however, she remained to watch, following every movement of pollux as he directed the slaves; though, all the time and whatever he was doing, he turned his back upon her. at last the portrait-head had found its right position, shrouded still in a cloth to preserve it from the marks of workmen's hands. with a deep breath the artist turned full on the steward's house, and immediately a clear merry voice called out: "what, tall pollux! it really is tall pollux; how glad i am!" with these words the girl on the balcony loudly clapped her hands; and as the sculptor hailed her in return, and shouted: "and you are little arsinoe, eternal gods! what the little thing has come to!" she stood on tip-toe to seem taller, nodded at him pleasantly, and laughed out: "i have not done growing yet; but as for you, you look quite dignified with the beard on your chin, and your eagle's nose. selene did not tell me till to-day that you were living down there with the others." the artist's eyes were fixed on the girl, as if spellbound. there are poetic natures in which the imagination immediately transmutes every new thing that strikes the eyes or the intelligence, into a romance, or rapidly embodies it in verse; and pollux, like many of his calling, could never set his eyes on a fine human form and face, without instantly associating them with his art. "a galatea--a galatea without an equal!" thought he, as he stood with his eyes fixed on arsinoe's face and figure. "just as if she had this instant risen from the sea--that form is just as fresh, and joyous, and healthy; and her little curls wave back from her brow as if they were still floating on the water; and now as she stoops, how full and supple in every movement. it is like a daughter of nereus following the line of the as the waves as they rise into crests and dip again into watery valleys. she is like selene and her mother in the shape of her head and the greek cut of her face, but the elder sister is like the statue of prometheus before it had a soul, and arsinoe is like the master's work after the celestial fire coursed through her veins." the artist had felt and thought all this out in a few seconds, but the girl found her speechless admirer's silence too long, and exclaimed impatiently: "you have not yet offered me any proper greeting. what are you doing down there?" "look here," he replied, lifting the cloth from the portrait, which was a striking likeness. arsinoe leaned far over the parapet of the balcony, shaded her eyes with her hand and was silent for more than a minute. then she suddenly cried out loudly and exclaiming: "mother--it is my mother!" she flew into the room behind her. "now she will call her father and destroy all poor selene's comfort," thought pollux, as he pushed the heavy marble bust on which his gypsum head was fixed, into its right place. "well, let him come. we are the masters here now, and keraunus dare not touch the emperor's property." he crossed his arms and stood gazing at the bust, muttering to himself: "patchwork--miserable patchwork. we are cobbling up a robe for the emperor out of mere rags; we are upholsterers and not artists. if it were only for hadrian, and not for diotima and her children, not another finger would i stir in the place." the path from the steward's residence led through some passages and up a few steps to the rotunda, on which the sculptor was standing, but in little more than a minute from arsinoe's disappearance from the balcony she was by his side. with a heightened color she pushed the sculptor away from his work and put herself in the place where he had been standing, to be able to gaze at her leisure at the beloved features. then she exclaimed again: "it is mother--mother!" and the bright tears ran over her cheeks, without restraint from the presence of the artist, or the laborers and slaves whom she had flown past on her way, and who stared at her with as much alarm as if she were possessed. pollux did not disturb her. his heart was softened as he watched the tears running down the cheeks of this light-hearted child, and he could not help reflecting that goodness was indeed well rewarded when it could win such tender and enduring love as was cherished for the poor dead mother on the pedestal before him. after looking for some time at the sculptor's work arsinoe grew calmer, and turning to pollux she asked: "did you make it?" "yes," he replied, looking down. "and entirely from memory?" "to be sure." "do you know what?" "well." "this shows that the sibyl at the festival of adonis was right when she sang in the jalemus that the gods did half the work of the artist." "arsinoe!" cried pollux, for her words made him feel as if a hot spring were seething in his heart, and he gratefully seized her hand; but she drew it away, for her sister selene had come out on the balcony and was calling her. it was for his elder playfellow and not for arsinoe that pollux had set his work in this place, but, just now, her gaze fell like a disturbing chill on his excited mood. "there stands your mother's portrait," he called up to the balcony in an explanatory tone, pointing to the bust. "i see it," she replied coldly. "i will look at it presently more closely. come up arsinoe, father wants to speak to you." again pollux stood alone. as selene withdrew into the room, she gently shook her pale head, and said to herself: "'it was to be for me,' pollux said; something for me, for once--and even this pleasure is spoilt." chapter ix. the palace-steward, to whom selene had called up his younger daughter, had just returned from the meeting of the citizens; and his old black slave, who always accompanied him when he went out, took the saffroncolored pallium from his shoulders, and from his head the golden circlet, with which he loved to crown his curled hair when he quitted the house. keraunus still looked heated, his eyes seemed more prominent than usual and large drops of sweat stood upon his brow, when his daughter entered the room where he was. he absently responded to arsinoe's affectionate greeting with a few unmeaning words, and before making the important communication he had to disclose to his daughters, he walked up and down before them for some time, puffing out his fat cheeks and crossing his arms. selene was alarmed, and arsinoe had long been out of patience, when at last he began: "have you heard of the festivals which are to be held in caesar's honor?" selene nodded and her sister exclaimed: "of course we have! have you secured places for us on the seats kept for the town council?" "do not interrupt me," the steward crossly ordered his daughter. "there is no question of staring at them. all the citizens are required to allow their daughters to take part in the grand things that are to be carried out, and we all were asked how many girls we had." "and how are we to take part in the show?" cried arsinoe, joyfully clapping her hands. "i wanted to withdraw before the summons was proclaimed, but tryphon, the shipwright, who has a workshop down by the king's harbor, held me back and called out to the assembly that his sons said that i had two pretty young daughters. pray how did he know that?" with these words the steward lifted his grey brows and his face grew red to the roots of his hair. selene shrugged her shoulders, but arsinoe said: "tryphon's shipyard lies just below and we often pass it; but we do not know him or his sons. have you ever seen them selene? at any rate it is polite of him to speak of us as pretty." "nobody need trouble themselves about your appearance unless they want to ask my permission to marry you," replied the steward with a growl. "and what did you say to tryphon?" asked selene. "i did as i was obliged. your father is steward of a palace which at present belongs to rome and the emperor; hence i must receive hadrian as a guest in this, the dwelling of my fathers, and therefore i, less than any other citizen--cannot withhold my share in the honors which the city council has decreed shall be paid to him." "then we really may," said arsinoe, and she went up to her father to give him a coaxing pat. but keraunus was not in the humor to accept caresses; he pushed her aside with an angry: "leave me alone," and then went on: "if hadrian were to ask me 'where are your daughters on the occasion of the festival?' and if i had to reply, 'they were not among the daughters of the noble citizens,' it would be an insult to caesar, to whom in fact i feel very well disposed. all this i had to consider, and i gave your names and promised to send you to the great theatre to the assembly of young girls. there you will be met by the noblest matrons and maidens of the city, and the first painters and sculptors will decide to what part of the performance your air and appearance are best fitted." "but, father," cried selene, "we cannot show ourselves in such an assembly in our common garments, and where are we to find the money to buy new ones?" "we can quite well show ourselves by any other girls, in clean, white woollen dresses, prettily smartened with fresh ribbons," declared arsinoe, interposing between her father and her sister. "it is not that which troubles me," replied the steward; "it is the costumes, the costumes! it is only the daughters of the poorer citizens who will be paid by the council, and it would be a disgrace to be numbered among the poor--you understand me, children." "i will not take part in the procession," said selene resolutely, but arsinoe interrupted her. "it is inconvenient and horrible to be poor, but it certainly is no disgrace! the most powerful romans of ancient times, regarded it as honorable to die poor. our macedonian descent remains to us even if the state should pay for our costumes." "silence," cried the steward. "this is not the first time that i have detected this low vein of feeling in you. even the noble may submit to the misfortunes entailed by poverty, but the advantages it brings with it he can never enjoy unless he resigns himself to being so no longer." it had cost the steward much trouble to give due expression to this idea, which he did not recollect to have heard from another, which seemed new to him, and which nevertheless fully represented what he felt; and he slowly sank, with all the signs of exhaustion, into a couch which formed a divan round a side recess in the spacious sitting-room. in this room cleopatra might have held with antony those banquets of which the unequalled elegance and refinement had been enhanced by every grace of art and wit. on the very spot where keraunus now reclined the dining-couch of the famous lovers had probably stood; for, though the whole hall had a carefully-laid pavement, in this recess there was a mosaic of stones of various colors of such beauty and delicacy of finish that keraunus had always forbidden his children to step upon it. this, it is true, was less out of regard for the fine work of art than because his father had always prohibited his doing so, and his father again before him. the picture represented the marriage of peleus and thetis, and the divan only covered the outer border of the picture, which was decorated with graceful little cupids. keraunus desired his daughter to fetch him a cup of wine, but she mixed the juice of the grape with a judicious measure of water. after he had half drunk the diluted contents of the goblet, with many faces of disgust, he said: "would you like to know what each of your dresses will cost if it is to be in no respect inferior to those of the others?" "well," said arsinoe anxiously. "about seven hundred drachmae;--[$115 in 1880]--philinus, the tailor, who is working for the theatre, tells me it will be impossible to do anything well for less." "and you are really thinking of such insane extravagance," cried selene. "we have no money, and i should like to know the man who would lend us any more." the steward's younger daughter looked doubtfully at the tips of her fingers and was silent, but her eyes swimming in tears betrayed what she felt. keraunus was rejoiced at the silent consent which arsinoe seemed to accord to his desire to let her take part in the display at whatever cost. he forgot that he had just reproached her for her low sentiments, and said: "the little one always feels what is right. as for you, selene, i beg you to reflect seriously that i am your father, and that i forbid you to use this admonishing tone to me; you have accustomed yourself to it with the children and to them you may continue to use it. fourteen hundred drachmae certainly, at the first thought of it, seems a very large sum, but if the material and the trimming required are bought with judgment, after the festival we may very likely sell it back to the man with profit." "with profit!" cried selene bitterly, "not half is to be got for old things-not a quarter! and even if you turn me out of the house--i will not help to drag us into deeper wretchedness; i will take no part in the performances." the steward did not redden this time, he was not even violent; on the contrary, he simply raised his head and compared his daughters as they stood--not without an infusion of satisfaction. he was accustomed to love his daughters in his own way, selene as the useful one, and arsinoe as the beauty; and as on this occasion all he cared for was to satisfy his vanity, and as this end could be attained through his younger daughter alone, he said: "stay with the children then, for all i care. we will excuse you on the score of weak health, and certainly, child, you do look extremely pale. i would far rather find the means for the little one only." two sweet dimples again began to show in arsinoe's cheeks, but selene's lips were as white as her bloodless cheeks as she exclaimed: "but, father--father! neither the baker nor the butcher has had a coin paid him for the last two months, and you will squander seven hundred drachmae!" "squander!" cried keraunus indignantly, but still in a tone of disgust rather than anger. "i have already forbidden you to speak to me in that way. the richest of our noble youths will take part in the games; arsinoe is handsome and perhaps one of them may choose her for his wife. and do you call it squandering, when a father does his utmost to find a suitable husband for his daughter. after all, what do you know of what i may possess?" "we have nothing, so i cannot know of it," cried the girl beside herself. "indeed!" drawled keraunus with an embarrassed smile. "and is that nothing which lies in the cup board there, and stands on the cornice shelf? for your sakes i will part with these--the onyx fibula, the rings, the golden chaplet, and the girdle of course." "they are of mere silver-gilt!" selene interrupted, ruthlessly. "all my grandfather's real gold you parted with when my mother died." she had to be cremated and buried as was due to our rank," answered keraunus; "but i will not think now of those melancholy days." "nay, do think of them, father." "silence! all that belongs to my own adornment of course i cannot do without, for i must be prepared to meet caesar in a dress befitting my rank; but the little bronze eros there must be worth something, plutarch's ivory cup, which is beautifully carved, and above all, that picture; its former possessor was convinced that it had been painted by apelles himself herein alexandria. you shall know at once what these little things are worth, for, as the gods vouchsafed, on my way home i met, here in the palace, gabinius of nicaea, the dealer in such objects. he promised me that when he had done his business with the architect he would come to me to inspect my treasures, and to pay money down for anything that might suit him. if my apelles pleases him, he will give ten talents for that alone, and if he buys it for only the half or even the tenth of that sum, i will make you enjoy yourself for once, selene." "we will see," said the pale girl, shrugging her shoulders, and her sister exclaimed: "show him the sword too, that you always declared belonged to caesar, and if he gives you a good sum for it you will buy me a gold bracelet." "and selene shall have one, too. but i have the very slenderest hopes of the sword, for a connoisseur would hardly pronounce it genuine. but i have other things, many others. hark! that is gabinius, no doubt. quick, selene, throw the chiton round me again. my chaplet, arsinoe. a well-to-do man always gets a higher price than a poor one. i have ordered the slave to await him in the ante-room; it is always done in the best houses." the curiosity dealer was a small, lean man, who, by prudence and good luck, had raised himself to be one of the most esteemed of his class and a rich man. having matured his knowledge by industry, and experience, he knew better than any man how to distinguish what was good from what was indifferent or bad, what was genuine from what was spurious. no one had a keener eye; but he was abrupt in his dealings with those from whom he had nothing to gain. in circumstances where there was profit in view, he could, to be sure, be polite even to subservience and show inexhaustible patience. he commanded himself so far as to listen with an air of conviction to the steward as he told him in a condescending tone that he was tired of his little possessions, that he could just as well keep them as part with them; he merely wanted to show them to him as a connoisseur and would only part with them if a good round sum were offered for what was in fact idle capital. one piece after another passed through the dealer's slender fingers, or was placed before him that be might contemplate it; but the man spoke not, and only shook his head as he examined every fresh object. and when keraunus told him whence this or that specimen of his treasures had been obtained, he only murmured-"indeed" or "really," "do you think so?" after the last piece of property had passed through his hands, the steward asked: "well, what do you think of them?" the beginning of the sentence was spoken confidently, the end almost in fear, for the dealer only smiled and shook his head again before he said: "there are some genuine little things among them, but nothing worth speaking of. i advise you to keep them, because you have an affection for them, while i could get very little by them." keraunus avoided looking towards selene, whose large eyes, full of dread, had been fixed on the dealer's lips; but arsinoe, who had followed his movements with no less attention, was less easily discouraged, and pointing to her father's apelles, she said: and that picture, is that worth nothing?" "it grieves me that i cannot tell so fair a damsel that it is inestimably valuable," said the dealer, stroking his gray whiskers. "but we have here only a very feeble copy. the original is in the villa belonging to phinius on the lake of larius, and which he calls cothurnus. i have no use whatever for this piece." "and this carved cup?" asked keraunus. "it came from among the possessions of plutarch, as i can prove, and it is said to have been the gift of the emperor trajan." "it is the prettiest thing in your collection," replied gabinius; "but it is amply paid for with four hundred drachmae." "and this cylinder from cyprus, with the elegant incised work?" the steward was about to take up the polished crystal, but his hand was trembling with agitation and pushed instead of lifting it from the table. it rolled away on the floor and across the smooth mosaic picture as far as the couches. keraunus was about to stoop to pick it up, but his daughters both held him back, and selene cried out: "father, you must not; the physician strictly forbade it." while the steward pushed the girls away grumbling, the dealer had gone down on his knees to pick up the cylinder, but it seemed to cost the slightly-built man much less effort to stoop than to get up again, for some minutes had elapsed before he once more stood on his feet, in front of keraunus. his countenance had put on an expression of eager attention, and he once more took up the painting attributed to apelles, sat down with it on the couch, and appeared wholly absorbed in the contemplation of the picture, which hid his face from the bystanders. but his eye was not resting on the work before him, but on the marriagescene at his feet, in which he detected each moment some fresh and unique beauty. as the dealer sat there for some minutes with the little picture on his knee, the steward's face brightened, selene drew a deep breath, and arsinoe went up to her father to cling to his arm and whisper in his ear: "do not let him have the apelles cheap--remember my bracelet." gabinius now rose, glanced at the various objects lying on the table and said in a much shorter and more business-like tone than before: "for all these things i can give you--wait a minute--twenty-seventy-four hundred--four hundred and fifty--i can give you six hundred and fifty drachmae, not a sesterce more!" "you are joking," cried keraunus. "not a sesterce more," answered the other coldly. "i do not want to make anything, but you as a business man will understand that i do not wish to buy with a certain prospect of loss. as regards the apelles--" "well?" "it may be of some value to me, but only under certain conditions. the case is quite different as regards buying pictures. your two young damsels know of course that my line of business leads me to admire and value all that is beautiful, but still i must request you to leave me alone with your father for a little while. i want to speak with him about this curious painting." keraunus signed to his daughters, who immediately left the room. before the door was closed upon them the dealer called after them: "it is already growing dark, might i ask you to send me as bright a light as possible by one of your slaves." "what about the picture?" asked keraunus. "till the light is brought let us talk of something else," said gabinius. "then take a seat on the couch," said keraunus. "you will be doing me a pleasure and perhaps yourself as well." as soon as the two men were seated on the divan, gabinius began: "those little things which we have collected with particular liking, we do not readily part with--that i know by long experience. many a man who has come into some property after he has sold all his little antiquities has offered me ten times the price i have paid him to get them back again, generally in vain, unfortunately. now, what is true of others is true of you, and if you had not been in immediate need of money you would hardly have offered me these things." "i must entreat you," began the steward, but the dealer interrupted him, saying: "even the richest are sometimes in want of ready money; no one knows that better than i, for i--i must confess--have large means at my command. just at present it would be particularly easy for me to free you from all embarrassment." "there stands my apelles," exclaimed the steward. "it is yours if you make a bid that suits me." "the light--here comes the light!" exclaimed gabinius, taking from the slave's hand the three-branched lamp which selene had hastily supplied with a fresh wick, and he placed it, while he murmured to keraunus, "by your leave," down on the centre of the mosaic. the steward looked at the man on his left hand, with puzzled inquiry, but gabinius heeded him not but went down on his knees again, felt the mosaic over with his hand, and devoured the picture of the marriage of peleus with his eyes. "have you lost anything?" asked keraunus. "no-nothing whatever. there in the corner--now i am satisfied. shall i place the lamp there, on the table? so--and now to return to business." "i beg to do so, but i may as well begin by telling you that in my case it is a question not of drachmae but of attic talents."--[ the attic talent was worth about l200, or $1000 dollars in the 1880 exchange rate.] "that is a matter of course, and i will offer you five; that is to say a sum for which you could buy a handsome roomy house." once more the blood mounted to the steward's head; for a few minutes he could not utter a word, for his heart thumped violently; but presently be so far controlled himself as to be able to answer. this time at any rate, he was determined to seize fortune by the forelock and not to be taken advantage of, so he said: "five talents will not do; bid higher." "then let us say six." "if you say double that we are agreed." "i cannot put it beyond ten talents; why, for that sum you might build a small palace." "i stand out for twelve." "well, be it so, but not a sesterce more." "i cannot bear to part with my splendid work of art," sighed keraunus. "but i will take your offer, and give you my apelles." "it is not that picture i am dealing for," replied gabinius. "it is of trifling value, and you may continue to enjoy the possession of it. it is another work of art in this room that i wish to have, and which has hitherto seemed to you scarcely worth notice. i have discovered it, and one of my rich customers has asked me to find him just such a thing." "i do not know what it is." "does everything in this room belong to you?" "whom else should it belong to?" "then you may dispose of it as you please?" "undoubtedly." "very well, then--the twelve attic talents which i offer you are to be paid for the picture that is under our feet." "the mosaic! that? it belongs to the palace." "it belongs to your residence, and that, i heard you say yourself, has been inhabited for more than a century by your forefathers. i know the law; it pronounces that everything which has remained in undisputed possession in one family, for a hundred years, becomes their property." "this mosaic belongs to the palace." "i assert the contrary. it is an integral portion of your family dwelling, and you may freely dispose of it." "it belongs to the palace." "no, and again no; you are the owner. tomorrow morning early you shall receive twelve attic talents in gold, and, with the help of my son, later in the day i will take up the picture, pack it, and when it grows dark, carry it away. procure a carpet to cover the empty place for the present. as to the secrecy of the transaction--i must of course insist on it as strongly--and more so--than yourself." "the mosaic belongs to the palace," cried the steward, this time in a louder voice, "do you hear? it belongs to the palace, and whoever dares touch it, i will break his bones." as he spoke keraunus stood up, his huge chest panting, his cheeks and forehead dyed purple, and his fist, which he held in the dealer's face, was trembling. gabinius drew back startled, and said: "then you will not have the twelve talents!" "i will--i will!" gasped keraunus, "i will show you how i beat those who take me for a rogue. out of my sight, villain, and let me hear not another word about the picture, and the robbery in the dark, or i will send the prefect's lictors after you and have you thrown into irons, you rascally thief!" gabinius hurried to the door, but he there turned round once more to the groaning and gasping colossus, and cried out, as he stood on the threshold: "keep your rubbish! we shall have more to say to each other yet." when selene and arsinoe returned to the sitting-room they found their father breathing hard and sitting on the couch, with his head drooping forward. much alarmed, they went close up to him, but he exclaimed quite coherently: "water--a drink of water!--the thief!--the scoundrel!" though hardly pressed, it had not cost him a struggle or a pang to refuse what would have placed him and his children in a position of ease; and yet he would not have hesitated to borrow it, aye, or twice the sum, from rich or poor, though he knew full certainly that he would never be in a position to restore it. nor was he even proud of what he had done; it seemed to him quite natural in a macedonian noble. it was to him altogether out of the pale of possibility that he should entertain the dealer's proposition for an instant. but where was he to get the money for arsinoe's outfit? how could he keep the promise given at the meeting? he lay meditating on the divan for an hour; then he took a wax tablet out of a chest and began to write a letter on it to the prefect. he intended to offer the precious mosaic picture which had been discovered in his abode, to titianus for the emperor, but he did not bring his composition to an end, for he became involved in high-flown phrases. at last he doubted whether it would do at all, flung the unfinished letter back into the chest, and disposed himself to sleep. etext editor's bookmarks: a well-to-do man always gets a higher price than a poor one i must either rest or begin upon something new this ebook was produced by david widger <widger@cecomet.net> [note: there is a short list of bookmarks, or pointers, at the end of the file for those who may wish to sample the author's ideas before making an entire meal of them. d.w.] serapis by georg ebers volume 6. chapter xxv. the spacious hippodrome was filled with some thousands of spectators. at first many rows of seats had been left vacant, though usually on the eve of the great races, the people would set out soon after midnight and every place would be filled long before the games began; indeed the upper tiers of the tribune, which were built of wood and were free to all comers, with standing-room behind, were commonly so crowded early in the morning that the crush ended in a free fight. on this occasion, the storm of the previous night, the anxiety caused by the conflict round the serapeum, and the prevalent panic as to the approaching end of the world, kept great numbers away from their favorite diversion; but when the sky recovered its radiant blue, and when it became known that the statue of serapis had escaped uninjured in the siege of his sanctuary--when cynegius, the imperial legate, and evagrius, the city-prefect, had entered the theatre with much pomp, followed by several senators and ladies and gentlemen of rank-christians, heathen, and jews--the most timid took courage; the games had been postponed for an hour, and before the first team was led into the arched shed whence the chariots started, the seats, though less densely packed than usual, were amply filled. the number of chariots entered for competition was by no means smaller than on former occasions, for the heathen had strained every nerve to show their fellow-citizens of different creeds, and especially caesar's representative, that, in spite of persecution and in defiance of imperial edicts, they were still a power worthy of consideration. the christians, on their part, did their utmost to outdo the idolaters on the same ground where, not long since, they had held quite the second place. the bishop's epigram: that christianity had ceased to be the religion of the poor, was amply confirmed; the greater proportion of the places for senators, officials and rich citizens were occupied by its adherents, and the men and women who professed the faith were by no means behind their heathen peers in magnificence of dress and jewels. the horses, too, entered by the christians could not fail to please the connoisseur, as they punctually made their appearance behind the starting-place, though he might have felt more confidence--and not without reason--in the heathen steeds, and more particularly in their drivers, each of whom had won on an average nine races out of ten. the horses in the quadriga with which marcus, the son of mary, made his appearance in the arena had never before been driven in the hippodrome. demetrius, the owner's brother, had bred and trained them--four magnificent black arabs--and they excited much interest among the knowing judges who were wont to collect and lounge about the 'oppidum', as it was called, behind the 'carceres'--[the covered sheds or stalls in which the horses were brought to wait for the start.]--to inspect the racers, predict the winner, offer counsel to the drivers, and make bets. these perfect creatures were perhaps as fine as the famous team of golden bays belonging to iphicrates, which so often had proved victorious; but the agitatores, or drivers, attracted even more interest than the horses. marcus, though he knew how to handle the reins--he had already been seen in experimental races--could hardly hold his own against hippias, the handsome young heathen, who, like most of the drivers in the arena, was an agitator by profession. a story was told of his having driven over a bridge which was not quite as wide as the outside edges of his chariotwheels; and there were many witnesses to the feat he had performed of writing his mistress' name with his chariot-tracks in the sand of the hippodrome. the betting was freest and the wagers highest on hippias and the team belonging to iphicrates. some few backed marcus and his arabs, but for smaller sums; and when they compared the tall but narrow-shouldered figure of the young christian with the heroic breadth of hippias' frame, and his delicate features, dreamy blue eyes and downy black moustache with the powerful hermes-head of his rival, they were anxious about their money. if his brother now, the farmer demetrius--who was standing by the horses' heads--or some well-known agitator had held the reins, it would have been a pleasure and a profit to back such horses. marcus had been abroad, too, and men shrugged their shoulders over that, for it was not till the last few days that he had been seen exercising his horses in the hippodrome. time was going on, and the imperial envoy, who had been elected to preside as judge, at length took his place; demetrius whispered a few last words of advice to his brother and went back into the arena. he had secured a good place on the stone podium and on the shady side, though there were several seats vacant among those belonging to his family; but he did not care to occupy one of these, preferring to keep out of the way of his step-mother, who had made her appearance with a senator and his wife to whom she was related. he had not seen her for two days; his promise to karnis that he would try to find dada, had kept him fully occupied, and he had done his best in all earnest to discover the girl. the honest indignation with which this young creature had refused his splendid offers, in spite of the modest circumstances of her life, had roused his respect, and he had felt it an insult to himself and to his brother when gorgo had spoken of her with contempt. for his part, he had never met with any one more fascinating; he could not cease dreaming of her, and the thought that she might be swallowed up in the foul mire of a great city made him miserable. his brother had the first claim on her and he would not dispute it; while he had sought her unweariedly in every resort of the young and gay--nay even in canopus--he had only meant to place her in safety, as a treasure which runs a risk of being lost to the family, though, when at last its possession is secured, it becomes the property of the member who can prove the best right of ownership. but all his efforts had been in vain; and it was in an unhappy mood that he went at last to the hippodrome. there the bitter hostility and partyfeeling which he had everywhere observed during his present visit to his native city, were not less conspicuous than they had been in the streets. the competing chariots usually arrived at the amphitheatre in grand procession, but this had not been thought advisable in the prevailing excitement; they had driven into the oppidum singly and without any display; and the images of the gods, which in former days had always been placed on the spina before the games began, had long since fallen into disuse. [the spina was the division down the middle of the arena. at each end of it were placed the metae or goals, at a distance from it of about 13 feet. the spina was originally constructed of wood, subsequently it was of stone, and its height was generally about 29 feet. the spina in the circus of caracalla was more than 900 feet long.] all this was vexatious to demetrius, and when he had taken his seat it was in no pleasant temper that he looked round at the ranks of spectators. his step-mother was sitting on the stuffed bench covered with lion-skins which was reserved for the family. her tunic and skirt displayed the color blue of the christian charioteer, being made of bright blue and silver brocade of a beautiful pattern in which the cross, the fish, and the olive-branch were elegantly combined. her black hair was closely and simply smoothed over her temples and she wore no garland, but a string of large grey pearls, from which hung a chaplet of sapphires and opals, lying on her forehead. a veil fell over the back of her head and she sat gazing into her lap as if she were absorbed in prayer; her hands were folded and held a cross. this placid and demure attitude she deemed becoming to a christian matron and widow. everyone might see that she had not come for worldly pleasure, but merely to be present at a triumph of her fellow-christians--and especially her son--over the idolaters. everything about her bore witness to the faith, even the pattern on her dress and the shape of her ornaments; down to the embroidery on her silk gloves, in which a cross and an anchor were so designed as to form a greek x, the initial letter of the name of christ. her ambition was to appear simple and superior to all worldly vanities; still, all she wore must be rich and costly, for she was here to do honor to her creed. she would have regarded it as a heathen abomination to wear wreaths of fresh and fragrant flowers, though for the money which that string of pearls had cost she might have decked the circus with garlands from end to end, or have fed a hundred poor for a twelvemonth. it seems so much easier to cheat the omniscient creator of the universe than our fellow-fools! so dame maria sat there in sour and virtuous dignity, looking like the virgin mary as painters and sculptors were at that time wont to represent her; and her farmer-son shuddered whenever his eye fell on his stepmother. it did him good, by contrast, to hear a hearty peal of laughter that came up from the lowest ranks of the podium. when he had discovered the spot from whence it proceeded he could hardly believe his eyes, for there sat the long-sought dada, between an old man and a young woman, laughing as though something had just occurred to amuse her extremely. demetrius stretched his limbs with a feeling of relief and satisfaction; then he rose, and seeing his city agent seated just behind the girl, he begged him to change places with him, as he thought it advisable not to lose sight of the game now it was caught; the old man was very ready to oblige him and went up to the other seat with a meaning smile. for the first time since she could recollect anything dada had spent a sleepless night. whether the wind and thunder would have sufficed to keep her awake who can tell; but the thoughts that had whirled through her brain had been varied and exciting enough to rob her of sleep. her own people who were fighting for serapis--how were they faring; and agne --what had become of her? then her mind turned to the church, and the worthy old priest's sermon; to the races that she was to see--and the face and figure of the handsome young christian rose vividly and irresistibly before her fancy. of course--of course, she wished his horses to win; but it was strange enough that she, karnis' niece, should be on the side of the christians. stranger still that she had entirely ceased to believe in all the abuse which, from her earliest childhood, she had heard heaped on the followers of the crucified jew. it could only be that karnis had never been able to forgive them for having ruined his theatre at tauromenium, and so, perhaps, had never known them thoroughly. she had enjoyed many a happy hour at the festivals of the old gods; and they were no doubt beautiful and festive divinities, or terrible when they were wroth; still, in the depths of her soul there had for some time lurked a vague, sweet longing which found no fulfilment in any heathen temple. she knew no name for it and would have found it hard to describe, but in the church, listening to the prayers and hymns and the old deacon's discourse, it had for the first time been stilled; she had felt then and there that, helpless and simple as she was, and even if she were to remain parted from her foster parents, she need never feel abandoned, but could rest and hope in a supreme, loving, and helpful power. and indeed she needed such a protector; she was so easily beguiled. stephanion, a flute-player she had known in rome, had wheedled everything she had a fancy for out of poor dada, and when she had got into any mischief laid it all on dada's shoulders. there must be something particularly helpless about her, for everyone, as a matter of course, took her in hand and treated her like a child, or said things that made her angry. in the hippodrome, however, she forgot everything in the present pleasure, and was happy enough in finding herself in the lowest row of places, in the comfortable seats on the shady side, belonging to posidonius, the wealthy magian. this was quite different from her experience in rome, where once, in the circus maximus, she had stood in the second tier of the wooden gallery and had been squeezed and pushed, while no one had taken any notice of her and she had only seen the races from a distance, looking down on the heads of the men and horses. herse never would take her a second time, for, as they came out, they had been followed and spoken to by men, young and old; and after that her aunt had fancied she never could be safe, scenting danger at every turn, and would not allow her ever again to go out alone in the city. this was altogether a much finer place, for here she was parted from the race-course only by a narrow watercourse which, as it happened, was bridged over just in front of her; the horses would pass close to her; and besides, it was pleasant to be seen and to feel conscious of a thousand flattering glances centered on herself. even the great cynegius, caesar's envoy and deputy, who had often noticed her on board ship, turned again and again to look at her. he was carried in on a golden litter by ten huge negroes, preceded by twelve lictors bearing fasces wreathed with laurel; and he took his seat, robed in purple and embroidery, on a magnificent throne in the middle of the tribune above the starting sheds; however, dada troubled herself no more about the overdressed old man. her eyes were everywhere, and she made medius or his daughter name everybody and explain everything. demetrius was delighted with her eager enjoyment; presently, nudging the singer, she whispered to him with much satisfaction: "look how the people down below are craning their necks to look at us! my dress is so very pretty--i wonder where your friend posidonius gets these lovely roses. there are above a hundred buds in this garland across my shoulders and down to my girdle, i counted them in the litter as i came along. it is a pity they should die so soon; i shall dry the leaves and make scent of them." demetrius could not resist the temptation; he leaned forward and said over her shoulder: "there are hardly enough for that." at this unexpected address dada looked round, and she blushed as she recognized marcus' brother; he, however, hastened to assure her that he deeply regretted his audacious proposals of two days since, and the girl laughed, and said that he had come off worst, and that she might have sent him away a little more civilly perhaps; but the truth was she had been out of temper to begin with--any one would be cross that was treated as dame herse had treated her: hiding her shoes and leaving her a prisoner on the deck of a barge in the middle of a lake! then she introduced him to medius, and finally enquired about marcus and his horses, and whether he had any chance of winning the race. the countryman answered all her questions; and when, presently, a flowergirl came along the ranks of seats, selling wreaths of blue and red flowers and ribbands, demetrius bought two lovely olive-wreaths to fling to the winner--his brother he hoped. medius and his daughter wore red knots--the color of the heathen, and dada, following their example, had a similar bow on her shoulder; now, however, she accepted a blue ribband that demetrius bought for her and pinned it in the place of the red one as being the color of marcus, to the old singer's great annoyance. demetrius laughed loudly in his deep bass tones, declaring that his brother was already most anxious to win, and that, when he saw her with these ribbands he would strain every nerve, in gratitude for her partisanship. he could assure her that marcus thought of her constantly. "i am glad of that," she said simply; and she added that it was the same with her, for she had been thinking all night of marcus and his horses. medius could not help remarking that karnis and herse would take it very ill that she should display the christian color to-day of all days; to which she only replied that she was sorry for that, but that she liked blue better than red. the answer was so abrupt and short that it startled demetrius, who had hitherto seen dada gentle and pliant; and it struck him at once how deep an aversion the girl felt for her present protectors. there was music, as usual, in the towers at either end of the row of carceres; but it was less stirring and cheerful than of yore, for flutes, and several of the heathen airs had been prohibited. formerly, too, the hippodrome had been a place where lovers could meet and where many a love-affair had been brought to a happy climax; but to-day none of the daughters of the more respectable families were allowed to quit the women's apartments in their own homes, for danger was in the air; the course of events in the serapeum had kept many of the younger men from witnessing the races, and some mysterious influence seemed to weigh upon the gaiety and mirth of which the hippodrome on a gala day was usually the headquarters. wild excitement, expectation strung to the highest pitch, and partyfeeling, both for and against, had always, of course, been rife here; but to-day they were manifest in an acuter form--hatred had added its taint and lent virulence to every emotion. the heathen were oppressed and angered, their rights abridged and defied; they saw the christians triumphant at every point, and hatred is a protean monster which rages most fiercely and most venomously when it has lurked in the foul career of envy. the christians could hate, too, and they hated the idolaters who gloried with haughty self-sufficiency in their intellectual inheritance; the traditions of a brilliant past. they, who had been persecuted and contemned, now had the upper hand; they were in power, and the more insolently they treated their opponents, the more injustice they did them, and the less the victimized heathen were able to revenge themselves, the more bitterly did the christians detest the party they contemned as superstitious idolaters. in their care for the soul--the spiritual and divine part--the christians had hitherto neglected the graces of the body; thus the heathen had remained the undisputed masters of the palaestra and the hippodrome. in the gymnasium the christian refused even to compete, for the exhibition of his naked body he regarded as an abomination; but on the race-course he had lately been willing to display his horses, and many times had disputed the crown with the hereditary victors, so that, even here, the heathen felt his time-honored and undisputed supremacy endangered. this was intolerable--this must be averted--the mere thought of being beaten on this ground roused the idolaters to wrath and malice. they displayed their color in wreaths of scarlet poppies, pomegranate flowers and red roses, with crimson ribbands and dresses; white and green, the colors formerly adopted by the competitors, were abandoned; for all the heathen were unanimous in combining their forces against the common foe. the ladies used red sunshades and the very baskets, in which the refreshments were brought for the day, were painted red. the widow mary, on the other hand, and all the christians were robed in blue from head to foot, their sandals being tied with blue ribbands; and dada's blue shoulder-knot was in conspicuous contrast to her bright rosecolored dress. the vendors of food who wandered round the circus had eggs dyed blue and red, cakes with sugared icing and refreshing drinks in jars of both colors. when a christian and a heathen found themselves seated side by side, each turned a shoulder to the other, or, if they were forced to sit face to face, eyed each other with a scowl. cynegius did all he could to postpone the races as long as possible; he was anxious to wait till the comes had finished his task in the serapeum, so that the troops might be free to act in any emergency that might arise before the contests in the hippodrome were fairly ended. time did not hang heavy on his hands for the vast multitude here assembled interested him greatly, though he had frequently been a spectator of similar festivities in rome and constantinople; but this crowd differed in many particulars from the populace of those cities. in the topmost tiers of free seats black and brown faces predominated greatly over white ones; in the cushioned and carpeted ranks of the stone podium--the lower portion of the amphitheatre--mingled with greeks and egyptians, sat thousands of splendidly dressed men and women with strongly-marked semitic features: members of the wealthy jewish community, whose venerable head, the alabarch, a dignified patriarch in greek dress, sat with the chief members of the senate, near the envoy's tribune. the alexandrians were not a patient race and they were beginning to rebel against the delay, making no small noise and disturbance, when cynegius rose and with his white handkerchief waved the signal for the races to begin. the number of spectators had gradually swelled from fifty to sixty and to eighty thousand; and no less than thirty-six chariots were waiting behind the carceres ready to start. four 'missus' or races were to be run. in each of the three first twelve chariots were to start, and in the fourth only the leaders in the three former ones were to compete. the winner of the olive-wreath and palmbranch in this final heat would bear the honors of the day; his party would be victorious and he would quit the hippodrome in triumph. lots were now drawn in the oppidum to decide which shed each chariot was to start from, and in which naissus each was to run. it was marcus' fate to start among the first lot, and, to the horror of those who had backed his chances, hippias, the hero of the hippodrome, was his rival, with the four famous bays. heathen priests poured libations to poseidon, and phoebus apollo, the patron divinities of horses and of the hippodrome--for sacrifices of blood were prohibited; while christian presbyters and exorcists blessed the rival steeds in the name of the bishop. a few monks had crept in, but they were turned out by the heathen with bitter jeers, as unbidden intruders. cynegius repeated his signal. the sound of the tuba rang through the air, and the first twelve chariots were led into the starting-sheds. a few minutes later a machine was set in motion by which a bronze eagle was made to rise with outspread wings high into the air, from an altar in front of the carceres; this was the signal for the chariots to come forth from their boxes. they took up their positions close behind a broad chalk line, traced on the ground with diagonal slope, so as to reduce the disadvantage of standing outermost and having a larger curve to cover. until this moment only the privileged possessors of the seats over the carceres had been able, by craning backwards, to see the horses and drivers; now the competitors were visible to the multitude which, at their first appearance, broke out into vociferous applause. the agitatores had to exert all their strength to hold in the startled and eager teams, and make them stand even for a few short minutes; then cynegius signalled for the third time. a golden dolphin, which had been suspended from a beam, and on which the eye of every charioteer was fixed, dropped to the ground, a blast on the 'salpinx', or war-trumpet, was sounded, and forty-eight horses flew forth as though thrown forward by one impulsion. the strength of four fine horses whirled each light, two-wheeled chariot over the hard causeway as though it were a toy. the down-pour of the previous night had laid the dust; the bright sunshine sparkled and danced in rapidly-changing flashes, mirrored in the polished gilding of the bronze or the silver fittings of the elegantly-decorated, semicircular cars in which the drivers stood. five blue and seven red competitors had drawn the first lots. the eye rested with pleasure on the sinewy figures whose bare feet seemed rooted to the boards they stood on, while their eyes were riveted on the goal they were striving to reach, though--as the eye of the archer sees arrow, bow and mark all at once--they never lost sight of the horses they were guiding. a close cap with floating ribbands confined their hair, and they wore a short sleeveless tunic, swathed round the body with wide bands, as if to brace their muscles and add to their strength. the reins were fastened around the hips so as to leave the hands free, not only to hold them but also to ply the whip and use the goad. each charioteer had a knife in his girdle, to enable him to release himself, in case of accident, from a bond that might prove fatal. before long the bay team was leading alone. behind were two christian drivers, followed by three red chariots; marcus was last of all, but it was easy to see that it was by choice and not by necessity that he was hanging back. he was holding in his fiery team with all his strength and weight--his body thrown back, his feet firmly set with his knees against the silver bar of the chariot, and his hands gripping the reins. in a few minutes he came flying past dada and his brother, but he did not see them. he had not even caught sight of his own mother, while the professional charioteers had not failed to bow to cynegius and nod to their friends. he could only keep his eyes and mind fixed on his horses and on the goal. the multitude clapped, roared, shouted encouragement to their party, hissed and whistled when they were disappointed--venting their utmost indignation on marcus as he came past behind the others; but he either heard them not or would not hear. dada's heart beat so wildly that she thought it would burst. she could not sit still; she started to her feet and then flung herself back on her cushions, shouting some spurring words to marcus in the flash of time when he might perhaps hear them. when he had passed, her head fell and she said sadly enough: "poor fellow!--we have bought our wreaths for nothing after all, demetrius!" but demetrius shook his head and smiled. "nay," he said, "the boy has iron sinews in that slight body. look how he holds the horses in! he is saving their strength till they need it. seven times, child, seven times he has to go round this great circus and past the 'nyssa'. you will see, he will catch up what he has lost, yet. hippias, you see, is holding in his horses, too; it is his way of giving himself airs at starting. now he is close to the 'nyssa'--the 'kampter' --the 'meta' they call it at rome; the smaller the bend he can make round it the better for him, but it is risky work. there--you see!--they drive round from right to left and that throws most of the work on the lefthand beast; it has to turn almost in its own length. aura, our first horse, is as supple as a panther and i trained her to do it, myself.--now, look out there! that bronze figure of a rearing horse--the 'taraxippos' they call it--is put there to frighten the horses, and megaera, our third horse, is like a mad thing sometimes, though she can go like a stag; every time marcus gets her quietly past the taraxippos we are nearer to success.--look, look,=-the first chariot has got round the nyssa! it is hippias! yes, by zeus, he has done it! he is a detestable braggart, but he knows his business!" this was one of the decisive moments of the race. the crowd was silent; expectation was at the utmost pitch of tension, and dada's eyes were fixed spell-bound on the obelisk and on the quadrigas that whirled round the bourn. next to hippias came a blue team, and close behind were three red ones. the christian who had succeeded in reaching the nyssa second, boldly took his horses close round the obelisk, hoping to gain space and get past hippias; but the left wheel of his chariot grazed the granite plinth, the light car was overset, and the horses of the red chariot, whose noses were almost on his shoulder, could not be pulled up short in time. they fell over the christian's team which rolled on the ground; the red chariot, too, turned over, and eight snorting beasts lay struggling in the sand. the horses in the next chariot bolted as they were being driven past this mass of plunging and neighing confusion; they defied their driver's impotent efforts and galloped across the course back into the caiceres. the rest had time and space enough to beware of the wreck and to give it a wide berth, among them marcus. the melee at the meta had excited his steeds almost beyond control, and as they tore past the taraxippos the third horse, megaera, shied violently as demetrius had predicted. she flung herself on one side, thrust her hind quarters under the pole, and kicked desperately, lifting the chariot quite off the ground; the young charioteer lost his footing and slipped. dada covered her face with her hands, and his mother turned pale and knit her brows with apprehension. the youth was still standing; his feet were on the sand of the arena; but he had a firm grip on the right-hand spiral ornament that terminated the bar round the chariot. many a heart stood still with anxiety, and shouts of triumph and mockery broke from the red party; but in less than half a minute, by an effort of strength and agility, he had his knees on the foot-board, and then, in the winking of an eye, he was on his feet in the chariot, had gathered up the reins and was rushing onward. meanwhile, however, hippias had far outstripped all the rest, and as he flew past the carceres he checked his pace, snatched a cup from a lemonade-seller, tossed the contents down his throat with haughty audacity amid the plaudits of the crowd, and then dashed on again. a wide gap, indeed, still lay between him and marcus. by the time the competitors again came round to the nyssa, the slaves in attendance had cleared away the broken chariots and led off the horses. a christian still came next to hippias followed by a red agitator; marcus had gained on the others and was now fourth. in the third round the chariot of the red driver in front of marcus made too sharp a turn and ran up against the granite. the broken car was dragged on by the terrified beasts, and the charioter with it, till, by the time they were stopped, he was a corpse. in the fifth circuit the christian who till now had been second to hippias shared the same fate, though he escaped with his life; and then marcus drove past the startingsheds next to hippias. hippias had ceased to flout and dally. in spite of the delay that marcus had experienced from the taraxippos, the space that parted his bays from the black arabs had sensibly diminished, round after round; and the interest of the race now centered entirely in him and the young christian. never before had so passionate and reckless a contest been fought out on this venerable race-course, and the throng of spectators were carried away by the almost frenzied rivalry of the two drivers. not a creature in the upper tiers had been able to keep his seat; men and women alike had risen to their feet and were shouting and roaring to the competitors. the music in the towers might have ceased, so completely was it drowned by the tumult in the amphitheatre. only the ladies, in the best places above the starting-sheds, preserved their aristocratic calm; still, when the seventh and decisive round was begun, even the widow mary leaned forward a little and clasped her hands more tightly over the cross in her lap. each time that marcus had driven round the obelisk or past the taraxippos, dada had clutched her head with her hands and set her teeth in her lip; each time, as he happily steered clear of the fatal stone and whirled past the dreadful bronze statue, she had relaxed her grip and leaned back in her seat with a sigh of relief. her sympathy made her one with marcus; she felt as if his loss must be her death and his victory her personal triumph. during the sixth circuit hippias was still a long way ahead of the young christian; the distance which lay between marcus and the team of bays seemed to have become a fixed quantity, for, do what he could, he could not diminish it by a hand-breadth. the two agitatores had now completely altered their tactics; instead of holding their horses in they urged them onward, leaning over the front of their chariots, speaking to the horses, shouting at them with hoarse, breathless cries, and flogging them unsparingly. steamy sweat and lathering foam streaked the flanks of the desperate, laboring brutes, while clouds of dust were flung up from the dry, furrowed and trampled soil. the other chariots were left further and further behind those of hippias and marcus, and when, for the seventh and last time, these two were nearing the nyssa, the crowd for a moment held its breath, only to break out into louder and wilder cries, and then again to be hushed. it seemed as though their exhausted lungs found renewed strength to shout with double energy when their excitement had kept them silent for a while. dada spoke no more; pale and gasping, she sat with her eyes fixed on the tall obelisk and on the cloud of dust which, as the chariots neared the nyssa, seemed to grow denser. at about a hundred paces from the nyssa she saw, above the sandy curtain, the red cap of hippias flash past, and then--close behind it--the blue cap worn by marcus. then a deafening, thundering roar from thousands of throats went up to heaven, while, round the obelisk--so close to it that not a horse, not a wheel could have found room between the plinth and the driver-the blue cap came forward out of the cloud, and, behind it now--no longer in front, though not more than a length behind--came the red cap of hippias. when within a few feet of the nyssa, marcus had overtaken his antagonist, had passed the point with a bold and perilously close turn, and had left the bays behind him. demetrius saw it all, as though his eye had power to pierce the dustcloud, and now he, too, lost his phlegmatic calm. he threw up his arms as if in prayer and shouted, as though his brother could hear him: "well done, splendid boy! now for the kentron--the goad--drive it in, send it home if they die for it! give it them well!" dada, who could only guess what was happening, looked round at him, asking in tremulous tones: "has he passed him? is he gaining on him? will he win?" but demetrius did not answer; he only pointed to the foremost of the flying clouds on which the second was fast advancing, and cried in a frenzy of excitement: "death and hades! the other is catching him up. the dog, the sneak! if only the boy would use his goad. give it them, marcus! give it them, lad! never give in now! great father poseidon!--there--there!--no! i can hardly stand--yes, he is still in front, and now--now--this must settle it! thunder and lightning! they are close together again--may the dust choke him! no--it is all right; my arabs are in front! all is well, keep it up, lad, well done! we have won!" the horses were pulled up, the dust settled; marcus, the christian, had won the first missus. cynegius held out the crown to the victor, who bowed to receive it. then he waved his hand to his mother, who graciously waved hers in return, and he drove into the oppidurn and was lost to sight. hippias flung down his whip in a rage, but the triumphant shouts of the christians drowned the music, the trumpet-blasts and the angry murmurs of the defeated heathen. threatening fists were shaken in the air, while behind the carceres the drivers and owners of the red party scolded, squabbled and stormed; and hippias, who by his audacious swagger had given away the race to their hated foe--to the blues, the christians-narrowly escaped being torn in pieces. the tumult and excitement were unparalleled; but dada saw and heard nothing. she sat in a blissful dream, gazing into her lap, while tears of joyful reaction rolled down her cheeks. demetrius saw her tears and was glad; then, pointing out mary to the girl, he in formed her that she was the mother of marcus. and he registered a secret vow that, cost what it might, he would bring his victorious brother and this sweet child together. the second and third missus, like the first, were marked by serious accidents; both, however, were won for the red party. in the fourth, the decisive race, there were but three competitors: marcus and the two heathen winners. demetrius watched it with less anxiety; he knew that his arabs were far superior to the egyptian breed in staying power, and they also had the advantage of having had a longer rest. in fact, the final victory was adjudged to the young christian. long before it was decided dada had been impatiently fingering her wreaths, and could hardly wait any longer to fling them into marcus' chariot. when it was all over she might perhaps have an opportunity of speaking to him; and she thought how delightful his voice was and what fine, kind eyes he had. if only he were to bid her be his, she would follow him whither and wherever he desired, whatever karnis and herse might say to the contrary. she thought no one could be so glad of his success as she was; she felt as if she belonged to him, had always belonged to him, and only some spiteful trick of fate had come between them. there was a fresh blast of trumpets; the victor, in obedience to a timehonored custom, was to drive round the arena at a foot-pace and show his brave team to the multitude. he came nearer and nearer, and demetrius proposed that they should cross the little watercourse that parted the podium from the arena and follow the chariot, so as to give his brother the wreaths instead of flinging them to him. the girl colored and could say neither yes or no; but she rose, hung one of the olive-crowns on her arm with a happy, bashful smile, and handed the other to her new friend; then she followed him across the little bridge on to the race-course which, now that the games were over, was crowded with christians. the brothers exchanged pleased greetings from afar, but marcus did not see dada till she was close to him and stood, with a shy but radiant glance of intense delight, holding out the olive-wreath for his acceptance. he felt as though heaven had wrought a miracle in his favor. never before had he thought her half so lovely. she seemed to have grown since he had seen her last, to have gained a deeper and nobler expression; and he observed, too, the blue favors on her shoulder and among the roses that crowned her fair curls. gladness and surprise prevented his speaking; but he took the garland she offered him and, seizing her hands, stammered out: "thanks--thank you, dada." their eyes met, and as he gazed into her face he forgot where he was, did not even wonder why his brother had suddenly turned away and, beginning some long-winded speech, had rushed after a man who hastily covered his head and tried to escape; he did not notice that thousands of eyes were fixed on him, and among them his mother's; he could merely repeat: "thanks" and "dada"--the only words he could find. he would perhaps have gone on repeating them, but that he was interrupted; the 'porta libitinaria'--the gate through which the dead or injured were usually carried out, was thrown open, and a rabble of infuriated heathen rushed in, crying: "serapis is fallen! they have destroyed the image of serapis! the christians are ruining the sanctuaries of the gods!" a sudden panic seized the assembled multitude; the reds rushed down from their places into the arena to hear the details and ask questions--ready to fight for the god or to fly for safety. in an instant the victor's chariot was surrounded by an angry mob; dada clutched it for protection, and marcus, without pausing to reflect--indeed hardly master of his own actions--turned and lifted her into it by his side; then, urging his horses forward, he forced a way through the crowd, past the caiceres. he glanced anxiously up at the seats but could nowhere see his mother, so he guided the exhausted beasts, steaming with sweat and dappled with foam, through the open gate and out of the circus. his stable-slaves had run after him; he released himself from the reins on his hips and flung them to the grooms. then he helped dada to leap from the car. "will you come with me?" he asked her simply; and the girl's reply was: "wherever you bid me." at the news that serapis was overthrown dame mary had started from her seat with eager haste that ill-became her dignity and, under the protection of the body-guard in attendance on cynegius, had found her way to her litter. in the hippodrome the tumult rose to a riot; reds and blues rushed from the upper tiers, down the ranks of the podium and into the dusty racecourse; falling on each other tooth and nail like wild beasts; and the bloody fray--no uncommon termination to the day, even in more peaceful times--lasted till the imperial soldiery parted the unarmed combatants. the bishop was triumphant; his adherents had won the day at every point; nor was he sorry to learn that olympius, helladius, ainmonius and many other spiritual leaders of the heathen world had succeeded in escaping. they might come back; they might preach and harangue as much as they chose: their power was broken. the church had nothing now to fear from them, and their philosophy and learning would still and always be valuable in the mental training of her priests. chapter xxvi. the great hippodrome of alexandria was outside the canopic gate, on the northern side of the road leading to eleusis which to-day was crowded with passengers, all moving in the same direction. the tumult roused by the intelligence that serapis was overthrown made all the more peaceful and peace-loving of the spectators hurry homewards; and as these, for the most part, were of the richer classes, who came and went in litters or chariots, their conveyances left but scanty space on the wide causeway for foot passengers, still, there they were, in considerable numbers, all wending their way towards the city, and the heathen who came rushing towards the hippodrome behind the first heralds of the disaster, had great difficulty in making their way against the stream. marcus and dada allowed themselves to be carried onward by the throng which was tending towards the city-walls and the canopic gate. phabis, mary's old steward, whose duty it had been to help his young master to dress after the races were over, had snatched the agitator's cap from the youth's head and flung a cloak over his shoulders, hastily following him as he went off with the young girl by his side. the old man quite understood what was in the wind for he it was who had conducted dame herse to his mistress' presence. he had thought her a shrewd and kindhearted woman, and it now struck him that she must certainly have been in the right when she accused marcus of designs on her pretty niece. at the time he had refused to believe it, for he had never in his life detected his young master in any underhand or forbidden courses; but, after all, marcus was his father's son, and, in his younger days, the old man had often and often had to risk his skin in apelles' love-intrigues. and now it was the son's turn--and if he were to take his fancy for that pretty chit as seriously as he did most things, if he got the notion into his head of marrying the little singer--what a storm there was brewing between him and his mother! the old man did his best to keep up with marcus who did not see or heed him, for his eyes and attention were centered on the fair companion who was clinging to his arm, while he tried to force a passage through the mob, towards the gate. miracle on miracle seemed to him to have been wrought in his behalf; for heaven had not only sent him dada, but she was wearing blue ribbands; and when he asked her why, she had replied "for your sake, and because i like your faith." he was tired to death; but as soon as dada had put her hand through his arm he lead felt refreshed as if by magic. his swollen and blistered hands, to be sure, were painful and his shoulders ached and winced from stiffness; but as she pressed his arm to her side and looked up gladly in his face--telling him how happy she was while he responded: "and how i love you!"--he felt himself in heaven, and pain and discomfort were forgotten. the crush did not allow them to say more than a few words; but the things their eyes and lips could smile were sweeter and dearer than anything they had ever known before. they had got through the gate and were in the canopic way when dada suddenly perceived that his lips were white, and felt the arm tremble on which her hand was lying. she asked him what ailed him; he made no reply, but put his hand to his head, so she led him aside into the public garden that lay to their right between the little stadium and the maeandrian circus. in this pretty spot, fresh with verdure and spring flowers, she soon found a bench shaded by a semicircular screen of darktufted tamarisk, and there she made him lie down. he yielded at once, and his pale face and fixed gaze showed her that he was in a fainting state. indeed, he must be quite worn out by the terrible struggle of the race, and after it was over he had not given himself time to take a cup of drink or a scrap of food for refreshment. it was only too natural that his strength should fail him, so, without feeling at all alarmed but only very pitiful and anxious to help, she ran back to a fruit-stall which they had passed at the entrance to the garden from the street. how glad she was that she still had the four drachmae which she had coaxed out of karnis in the xenodochium that evening; she could buy whatever she liked for her lover. when she went back-loaded with oranges, apples, hard-boiled eggs, bread and salt, in the skirt of her dress that she gathered up with one hand, and with a flask of wine and water, and a gourdbowl in the other-she found him still lying unconscious. however, when she had moistened his forehead and lips he opened his eyes, and then she peeled him an orange as daintily as she could and begged him to try it, and as she was herself very hungry she took a hearty share. she was enchanted at making him her guest, and at finding that he enjoyed the simple meal and soon was quite revived. in fact, in a few minutes he had altogether recovered his strength and consciousness of satisfaction; and as he lay back with dada's hand in his, gazing happily and thankfully into her sweet eyes, a sense of peace, rest and bliss came over him such as he had never before known. he thought he had never tasted such delicious food, or such exquisite wine as the wretched mareotic from the fruitstall. he took the apple she had begun eating out of her hand and bit it where her white teeth had been; he made her drink first out of the gourd-cup, and, as one of the three eggs she had brought with her was bad, they had quite a little battle for the last, till he finally gave way and eat it. when they had finished dada's purchases to the last mouthful she asked him, for the first time, where he meant to take her, and be said he intended placing her in the house of his former tutor, eusebius, the deacon, where she would be a welcome guest and find her old companion agne. of this she was sincerely glad; and when, on hearing the title of deacon, she questioned marcus further, and identified eusebius as the worthy old man whose discourse in the basilica had so deeply impressed her, she told marcus how she had gone into the church, and how, from that hour, she had felt at peace. a quite new feeling had sprung up in her soul, and since then she had constantly longed to see him again and talk it all over with him:--the little she had learnt of christian doctrine did her heart good and had given her comfort and courage. the world was so beautiful, and there were many more good men than bad. it was a pleasure to love one's neighbor, and as for forgiving a wrong--that she had never found difficult. it must be good to live on earth if everyone loved his neighbor as she loved him and he loved her; and life could not be a great hardship if in every trouble there was some one who was always ready to hear our cry and help us, out of pure beneficence. her innocent talk was to marcus the greatest marvel of this day of miracles. the soul which he had dreamed that he was called to save had, of its own accord, turned to walk in the path of salvation; he went on to tell her of the things which he felt to be most sublime and glorious in his creed, and at length he confessed that, though he had always loved his neighbor for christ's sake, never till now had true and perfect love been revealed to him. no power on earth could now part him from her, and when she should have been baptized there would be no further difficulty; their love might last till, and beyond, death, through all the ages of eternity. and she listened to him, perfectly content; and said that she was his, wholly his, now, and for ever and ever. there were to-day but few people in the garden which was usually full in the afternoon, of idlers, and of children with their nurses; but the disturbance in the streets had kept these at home, and the idlers had found more to attract them at the hippodrome and in the crowded roads. this favored the lovers, who could sit hand in hand, looking into each other's eyes; and when old phabis, who had lost sight of them long since, at length discovered them in the park, he could see from his lurkingplace as he crept closer, that his young master, after glancing cautiously round, pressed a kiss on the little singer's hair, and then on her eyes and at last on her lips. the hours flew fast between serious talk and delightful dalliance, and when they tore themselves away from their quiet retreat it was already dusk. they soon found themselves in the canopic way, in the thick of the crowd which they were now occasionally obliged to meet, for those who were making homewards had long since dispersed, and thousands were still crowding to the hippodrome where a brisk fight was still going on. as they passed his mother's house marcus paused and, pointing it out to dada, told her that the day was not far distant when he should bring her home hither. but the girl's face fell. "oh no!" she exclaimed, in a low voice. "not here-not to this great palace in a street. let us live in a little house, quite quietly, by ourselves. a house with a garden, and a seat in the shade. your mother lives here!" and then she blushed scarlet and looked down. he guessed, however, what was passing in her mind, and bid her only to have patience, for as soon as she was a baptized christian eusebius would intercede for her. and he spoke warmly of his mother's piety and virtues, and asked dada if she had seen her at the races. "yes," she replied timidly; and when he went on to ask her if she had not thought mary very handsome and dignified, she answered frankly: "yes-very; but then she is so tall and grand-looking-she must wish for a daughter-in-law very different from a poor, forsaken orphan like me--a mere singer, looked down upon by every one! it is different with you; you are satisfied with me as i am, and you know that i love you. if i never find my uncle again i have no one on earth to care for me but you; but i want no other, for you are my one and only hope, and to live for you and with you is enough. only you must never leave me or i shall die! but you never can, for you told me that my soul was dearer to you than your own life; and so long as i have you and your love i shall grow better and better every day; but if you ever let me be parted from you i shall be utterly lost. yes, understand that once for all--ruined and lost, body and soul!--i do not know what it is that terrifies me, but do let us go on, away from this house. suppose your mother were to see us!" he did as she wished and tried to soothe her, praising his mother's virtues with the affectionate blindness of a son; but she only half listened to his eulogy, for, as they approached rhacotis the throng grew denser, they had no opportunities for conversation, they could think of nothing but battling their way through the crowd; still, they were happy. [the quarter of the city inhabited by the egyptians. it was the old town close to which alexander the great built his splendid new city.] they thus got to the street of the sun--one of the main arteries of the city cutting the canopic way at right angles--and they went down it towards the gate of helios in the south wall. the serapeum lay to their right, several streets leading to it from the street of the sun. to reach the house where eusebius lived they ought to have turned down the street of the acropolis, but a compact mass of frenzied creatures came storming down it from the serapeum, and towards them. the sun was now fast setting over the city of the dead on the western horizon. marcus tried to get out of the middle of the road and place dada in safety by the house at the corner, but in vain; the rabble that came crowding out of the side street was mad with excitement, and could think of nothing but the trophies it had snatched from the temple. several dozen men, black and white alike--and among them some monks and even women, had harnessed themselves to an enormous truck, commonly used for the carriage of beams, columns, and heavy blocks of stone, on which they had erected a huge but shapeless mass of wood, the core, and all that remained, of the image of serapis; this they were dragging through the streets. "to the hippodrome! burn it! down with the idols! look at the divine form of serapis! behold the god!" these were the cries that rent the air from a thousand throats, an earsplitting accompaniment to the surging storm of humanity. the monks had torn the desecrated block from the niche in the serapeum, hauled it through the courts on to the steps, and were now taking it to the arena where it was to be burnt. others of their kidney, and some of the christian citizens who had caught the destructive mania, had forced their way into the temple of anubis, hard by the serapeumn, where they had overthrown and wrecked the jackal-headed idols and the canopic gods --four huge jars with lids representing respectively a man's head, an ape's, a hawk's and a jackal's. they were now bearing these heads in triumph, while others were shouldering the limbs of broken statues of apollo, of athene, or of aphrodite, or carrying the fragments in baskets to cast them into the flames in the hippodrome after the wooden stock of the great serapis. the mob had broken off the noses of all the heads, had smeared the marble with pitch, or painted it grossly with the red paint they had found in the writing-rooms of the sera peum. every one who could get near enough to the remains of the statue, or to a fragment of a ruined idol, spit upon it, struck it or thrust at it; and not a heathen had, as yet, dared to interfere. behind the oak block of the image of serapis and the other trophies of victory, came an endless stream of men of all ages, of monks and of women, compelling a large carruca--[a four-wheeled chariot used in the city and for travelling.]--that had fallen into their hands, and which they had completely surrounded, to keep pace with them. the two fine horses that drew it had to be led by the bridle; they were trembling with terror and excitement and made repeated attempts to kick over the pole or to rear. in this vehicle was porphyrius, who had fully recovered consciousness, and by his side sat gorgo. constantine had not stirred from the side of the convalescent till apuleius had pronounced him out of all danger; but then the young officer's duty had called him away. the merchant had hailed the news of his daughter's, union with the companion of her childhood as a most satisfactory and long-expected event. a party of the prefect's guards had been charged to bring the carriage for porphyrius to the door of the temple, and the abbot of a monastery at arsinoe, who was well known to the prefect, undertook to escort them on their road home and protect them from the attacks of the raving mob. at the spot where the side street intersected the street of the sun, and where marcus and dada had been forced to stop, unable either to proceed or to return, a troop of armed heathen had given the christian rabble a check at the very moment when the carruca came up, and falling on the foe who had mocked and insulted their most sacred treasure, began a furious fray. quite close to the young lovers a heathen cut down a christian who was carrying the besmirched head of a muse. dada clung in terror to marcus, who was beginning to be seriously alarmed for her when, looking round for aid or refuge, he caught sight of his brother forcing his way through the throng, and gesticulating vehemently. the farmer was telegraphing to the occupants of the carruca as well, and when he at last reached marcus he briefly explained to him that the first thing to be done was to place dada in safety. only too glad to be out of the crush and danger, the girl nimbly climbed into the chariot, and, after hastily greeting the father and daughter, signed to marcus to follow her; but demetrius held his brother back, and it was hurriedly agreed that dada should be sent for that evening to the house of porphyrius. demetrius whispered a few words of enthusiastic praise of the little singer into gorgo's ear; then the carriage moved on again. many of the heathen who had collected round it recognized porphyrius, the noble friend of the great olympius, and cleared a passage for him, so that at last he got out of the gate uninjured, and turned into the quieter street of euergetes which led to the temple of isis, the ship-yard and the merchant's residence. but few words were exchanged in the chariot, for it was only step by step and with considerable difficulty that the horses could get along. it was now quite dark and the mob had spread even into this usually deserted quarter. a flaring glow that tinged the temple, the wharf and the deep sky itself with a gorgeous crimson glare, showed very plainly what the populace were employed in doing. the monks had set fire to the temple of isis and the flames had been driven by the northwest wind down into the ship-yard, where they had found ample food in the enormous timber stacks and the skeletons of ships. tall jets of rushing and crackling sparks were thrown skywards to mingle with the paler stars. porphyrius could see what danger his house was in; but thanks to the old steward's foresight and the indefatigable diligence of the slaves, it escaped the conflagration. the two brothers, meanwhile, had left the mob far behind them. demetrius was not alone, and as soon as he had introduced marcus to his companion, an abbot of friendly mien, the monk warmly expressed his pleasure at meeting another son of apelles, to whom he had once owed his life. demetrius then told his brother what his adventures had been during the last few hours, and where he had met this worthy father. while taking dada down into the arena to join marcus, he had caught sight of anubis, the egyptian slave who had been his father's companion in his last memorable journey to syria, and who, since the death of apelles, had totally disappeared, the countryman had instantly followed him, seized him--not without a struggle and some little danger--and then had him led off by the city-guard to the prison by the prefect's house. once secured he had been induced to speak, and his narrative proved beyond a doubt that apelles had perished in a skirmish with the saracens; the egyptian slave had only taken advantage of his master's death to make off with the money he had with him. he had found his way to crete, where he had purchased a plot of ground with his plunder; but then, craving to see his wife and children once more, he had come back to fetch them away to his new home. finally, to confirm the truth of his story, which--clearing him apparently of the murder of his master--did not invite implicit belief, he told demetrius that he had seen in alexandria, only the day before, a recluse who had been present when apelles fell, and demetrius had at once set out to find this monk, enquiring among those who had swarmed into the city. he had very soon been successful; kosnias, who since then had been elected abbot of the monastery to which he belonged, now again told marcus the story of his father's heroic courage in the struggle with the freebooters who had attacked his caravan. apelles, he said, had saved his life and that of two other anchorites, one of whom was in alexandria at this very time. they were travelling from hebron to aila, a party of seven, and had placed themselves under the protection of the alexandrian merchant's escort; everything had gone well till the infidel saracens had fallen upon them in the high land south of petra. four of the monks had been butchered out of hand; but apelles, with a few of the more resolute spirits in the company, had fought the heathen with the valor of a lion. he, kosmas, and his two surviving comrades had effected their escape, while apelles engaged the foe; but from a rocky height which they climbed in their flight they saw him fall, and from that hour they had always mentioned him in their prayers. it would be an unspeakable satisfaction to him to do his utmost to procure for such a man as apelles the rank he deserved in the list of martyrs for the faith. marcus, only too happy, wanted to hurry away at once to his mother and tell her what he had heard, but demetrius detained him. the bishop-he told his brother--had desired his immediate presence, to be congratulated on his victory; his first duty was to obey that mandate, and he should at once avail himself of its favorable opportunity to obtain for his deceased parent the honor he had earned. it rather startled marcus to find his brother taking its interest in a matter which, so lately, he had vehemently opposed; however, he proceeded at once to the episcopal palace, accompanied by the abbot, and half an hour later demetrius, who had awaited his return, met him coming out with sparkling eyes. the prelate, he said, had received him very graciously, had thanked him for his prowess and had bid him crave a reward. he at once had spoken of his father, and called the recluse to witness to the facts. the bishop had listened his story, and had ended by declaring himself quite willing to put the name of apelles on the list of the syrian martyrs. theophilus had been most unwilling hitherto to reject the petitions of so good and illustrious christian as mary; and now, after such ample testimony as to the manner of her husband's death, it was with sincere satisfaction that he bestowed this high mark of honor on the christian victor and his admirable mother. "so now," added the young man, "i shall fly home, and how happy my mother will be...." but demetrius would not allow him to finish his sentence. he laid his hand on the young man's shoulder saying: "patience, my dear fellow, patience! you must stay with me for the present, and not go to your mother till i have settled everything that is necessary. do not contradict me i entreat you, unless you want to deprive me of the happiness of remedying an injustice to your pretty dada. what you most desire for yourself and her is your mother's blessing--and do you think that will be easy to obtain? far from it, lad! but i can manage it for you; and i will, too, if only you will do as i bid you, and if the old heathen's niece can be induced to be baptized...." "she is a christian already!" exclaimed marcus eagerly. "well then, she can be yours to-morrow," demetrius went on calmly, "if you listen to the advice of your older and wiser brother. it cannot be very hard upon you, for you must own that if i had not fought it out with anubis--and the rascal bit all he could reach like a trapped fox--if i had not got him locked up and almost run my legs off in hunting down the worthy abbot, our father would never have enjoyed the promotion which he is at last to obtain. who would ever have believed that i should get any satisfaction out of this 'crown of martyrdom'? by the gods! it is by no means impossible, and i hope the manes of the deceased will forgive me for your sake. but it is getting late, so only one thing more: for my own share of the business all i claim is my right to tell your mother myself of all that has occurred; you, on your part, must go at once to eusebius and beg him to receive dada in his house. if he consents--and he certainly will--take him with you to our uncle porphyrius and wait there till i come; then, if all goes well, i will take you and dada to your mother--or, if not, we will go with eusebius." "dada to my mother!" cried marcus. "but what will she ......" "she will receive her as a daughter," interrupted his brother, "if you hold your tongue about the whole business till i give you leave to speak.--there, the tall gate-keeper is closing the episcopal palace, so nothing more can come out of there to-night. you are a lucky fellow --well good-bye till we meet again; i am in a hurry." the farmer went off, leaving marcus with a thousand questions still unasked. however, the young man did his bidding and went, hopeful though not altogether free from doubts, to find his old tutor and friend. chapter xxvii. while marcus carried out his brother's instructions dada was expecting him and eusebius with the greatest impatience. gorgo had charged her waiting-woman to conduct the girl into the music-room and to tell her that she would join her there if her father was in such a state as to allow of it. some refreshments were brought in to her, all delicate and tempting enough; but dada would not touch them, for she fancied that the merchant's daughter was avoiding her intentionally, and her heart ached with a sense of bereavement and loneliness. to distract her thoughts she wandered round the room, looking at the works of art that stood against the walls, feeling the stuffs with which the cushions were covered and striking a lute which was leaning against the pedestal of a muse. she only played a few chords, but they sufficed to call up a whole train of memories; she sank on a divan in the darkest corner she could find in the brilliantly-lighted room, and gave herself up to reviewing the many events of the last few days. it was all so bright, so delightful, that it hardly seemed real, and her hopes were so radiantly happy that for a moment she trembled to think of their fulfilment--but only for a moment; her young soul was full of confidence and elation, and if a doubt weighed it down for an instant it was soon cast off and her spirit rose with bold expectancy. her heart overflowed with happiness and thankfulness as she thought of marcus and his love for her; her fancy painted the future always by his side, and though her annoyance at gorgo's continued absence, and her dread of her lover's mother slightly clouded her gladness, the sense of peace and rapture constantly came triumphantly to the front. she forgot time as it sped, till at length gorgo made her appearance. she had not deliberately kept out of the little singer's way; on the contrary, she had been detained by her father, for not till now had she dared to tell him that his mother, the beloved mistress of his house, was no more. in the serapeum she had not mentioned it, by the physician's orders; and now, in addition, through the indiscretion of a friend, he had received some terrible tidings which had already been known for some hours in the city and which dealt him a serious blow. his two sons were in thessalonica, and a ship, just arrived from thence, brought the newsonly too well substantiated, that fifteen thousand of the inhabitants of that town had been treacherously assassinated in the circus there. this hideous massacre had been carried out by the imperial troops at caesar's command, the wretched citizens having been bidden to witness the races and then ruthlessly butchered. a general of the imperial army--a goth named botheric--had been killed by the mob, and the emperor had thus avenged his death. porphyrius knew only too well that his sons would never have been absent from any races or games. they certainly must have been among the spectators and have fallen victims to the sword of the slaughterer. his mother and two noble sons were snatched from him in a day; and he would again have had recourse to poison as a refuge from all, if a dim ray of hope had not permitted him to believe in their escape. but all the same he was sunk in despair, and behaved as though he had nothing on earth left to live for. gorgo tried to console him, encouraged his belief in her brothers' possible safety, reminded him that it was the duty of a philosopher to bear the strokes of fate with fortitude; but he would not listen to her, and only varied his lamentations with bursts of rage. at last he said he wished to be alone and reminded gorgo that she ought to go to dada. his daughter obeyed, but against her will; in spite of all that demetrius had said in the young girl's favor she felt a little shy of her, and in approaching her more closely she had something of the feeling of a fine lady who condescends to enter the squalid hovel of poverty. but her father was right: dada was her guest and she must treat her with kindness. outside the door of the music-room she dried away her tears for her brothers, for her emotion seemed to her too sacred to be confessed to a creature who boldly defied the laws laid down by custom for the conduct of women. from dada's appearance she felt sure that all those lofty ideas, which she herself had been taught to call "moral dignity" and "a yearning for the highest things," must be quite foreign to this girl with whom her cousin had condescended to intrigue. she felt herself immeasurably her superior; but it would be ungenerous to allow her to see this, and she spoke very kindly; but dada answered timidly and formally. "i am glad," gorgo began, "that accident brought you in our way;" and dada replied hastily: "i owe it to your father's kindness, and not to accident." "yes, he is very kind," said gorgo, ignoring dada's indignant tone. "and the last few hours have brought him terrible sorrows. you have heard, no doubt, that he has lost his mother; you knew her--she had taken quite a fancy to you, i suppose you know." "oh! forget it!" cried dada. "she was hard to win," gorgo went on, "but she liked you. do you not believe me? you should have seen how carefully she chose the dress you have on at this minute, and matched the ornaments to wear with it." "pray, pray say no more about it," dada begged. "she is dead, and i have forgiven her--but she thought badly, very badly of me." "it is very bad of you to speak so," interrupted gorgo, making no attempt to conceal her annoyance at the girl's reply. "she--who is dead-deserves more gratitude for her liberality and kindness!" dada shook her head. "no," she said firmly. "i am grateful, even for the smallest kindness; i have not often met with disinterested generosity. but she had an end in view--i must say it once for all. she wanted to make use of me to bring shame on marcus and grief on his mother. you surely must know it; for why should you have thought me too vile to sing with you if you did not believe that i was a good-for-nothing hussy, and quite ready to do your dead grandmother's bidding? everybody, of course, looked down upon us all and thought we must be wicked because we were singers; but you knew better; you made a distinction; for you invited agne to come to your house and sing with you.--no, unless you wish to insult me, say no more about my owing the dead lady a debt of gratitude!" gorgo's eyes fell; but presently she looked up again and said: "you do not know what that poor soul had suffered. mary, her son's widow, had been very cruel to her, had done her injuries she could never forgive--so perhaps you are right in your notion; but all the same, my grandmother had a great liking for you--and after all her wish is fulfilled, for marcus has found you and he loves you, too, if i am not mistaken!" "if you are not mistaken!" retorted dada. "the gods forefend!--yes, we have found each other, we love each other. why should i conceal it?" "and mary, his mother--what has she to say to it?" asked gorgo. "i do not know," replied dada abashed. "but she is his mother, you know!" cried gorgo severely. "and he will never--never--marry against her will. he depends on her for all that he has in the world." "then let her keep it!" exclaimed dada. "the smaller and humbler the home he gives me the better i shall like it. i want his love and nothing more. all--all he desires of me is right and good; he is not like other men; he does not care for nothing but my pretty face. i will do whatever he bids me in perfect confidence; and what he thinks about me you may judge for yourself, for he is going to put me in the care of his tutor eusebius." "then you have accepted his creed?" asked gorgo. "certainly i have," said dada. "i am glad of that for his sake," said the merchant's daughter. "and if the christians only did what their preachers enjoin on them one might be glad to become one. but they make a riot and destroy everything that is fine and beautiful. what have you to say to that--you, who were brought up by karnis, a true votary of the muses?" "i?" said dada. "there are bad men everywhere, and when they rise to destroy what is beautiful i am very sorry. but we can love it and cherish it all the same." "you are happy indeed if you can shut your eyes at the dictates of your heart!" retorted gorgo, but she sighed. "happy are they and much to be envied who can compel their judgment to silence when it is grief to hear its voice. i--i who have been taught to think, cannot abandon my judgment; it builds up a barrier between me and the happiness that beckons me. and yet, so long as truth remains the highest aim of man, i will bless the faculty of seeking it with all the powers of my mind. my betrothed husband, like yours, is a christian; and i would i could accept his creed as unflinchingly as you; but it is not in my nature to leap into a pool when i know that it is full of currents and whirlpools. --however, the present question has to do with you and not with me. marcus, no doubt, will be happy to have won you; but if he does not succeed in gaining his mother's consent he will not continue happy you may rely upon it. i know these christians! they cannot conceive of any possible joy in married life without their parents' blessing, and if marcus defies his mother he will torture his conscience and lead a deathin-life, as though he were under some heavy load of guilt." "for all that, and all that," dada insisted, "he can no more be happy without me than i can without him. i have never in my life paid court to any one, but i have always met with kindness. why then should i not be able to win his mother's heart? i will wager anything and everything that she will take kindly to me, for, after all, she must be glad when she sees her son happy. eusebius will speak for us and she will give its her blessing! but if it is not to be, if i may never be his wife honestly and in the face of the world, still i will not give him up, nor he me. he may deal with me as he will--as if he were my god and i were his slave!" "but, my poor child, do you know nothing of womanly honor and womanly dignity?" cried gorgo clasping her hands. "you complain of the lot of a singing-girl, and the cruel prejudices of the world--and what are you saying? let me have my way, you would say, or i scorn your morality?" "scorn!" exclaimed dada firing up. "do you say i scorn morality? no, indeed no. i am an insignificant little person; there is nothing proud or great about me, and as i know it full well i am quite humble; in all my life i never dared to think of scorn, even of a child. but here, in my heart, something was awoke to life--through marcus, only through him --something that makes me strong; and when i see custom and tradition in league against me because i am a singer, when they combine to keep me out of what i have a right to have--well, within these few hours i have found the spirit to defend myself, to the death if need be! what you call womanly honor i have been taught to hold as sacred as you yourself, and i have kept it as untainted as any girl living. not that i meant to do anything grand, but you have no idea of what it is when every man thinks he has a right to oppress and insult a girl and try to entrap her. you, and others like you, know nothing of small things, for you are sheltered by walls and privileges. we are every man's game, while they approach you as humbly as if you were goddesses.--besides! it is not only what i have heard from karnis, who knows the world and fine folks like you; i have seen it for myself at rome, in the senators' houses, where there were plenty of young lords and great men's daughters--for i have not gone through life with my eyes shut; with you love is like lukewarm water in a bath, but it catches us like fire. sappho of lesbos flung herself from the leucadian rock because phaon flouted her, and if i could save marcus from any calamity by doing the same, i would follow her example.--you have a lover, too; but your feeling for him, with all the 'intellect' and 'reflections,' and 'thought' of which you spoke, cannot be the right one. there is no but or if in my, love at any rate; and yet, for all that, my heart aches so sorely and beats so wildly, i will wait patiently with eusebius and submit to whatever i am bidden.--and in spite of it all you condemn me unheard, for you. . . . but why do you stand and look like that? you look just like you did that time when i heard you sing. by all the muses! but you, too, like us, have some fire in your veins, you are not one of the lukewarm sort; you are an artist, and a better one than i; and if you ever should feel the right love, then--then take care lest you break loose from propriety and custom--or whatever name you give to the sacred powers that subdue passion--even more wildly than i--who am an honest girl, and mean to remain so, for all the fire and flame in my breast!" gorgo remembered the hour in which she had, in fact, proffered to the man of her choice as a free gift, the love which, by every canon of propriety, she ought only to have granted to his urgent wooing. she blushed and her eyes fell before the humble little singer; but while she was considering what answer she could make men's steps were heard approaching, and presently eusebius and marcus entered the room, followed by gorgo's lover. constantine was in deep dejection, for one of his brothers had lost his life in the burning of his father's ship-yard, and as compared with this grief, the destruction of the timber stores which constituted the chief part of his wealth scarcely counted as a calamity. gorgo had met him with a doubtful and embarrassed air; but when she learnt of the blow that had fallen on him and his parents, she clung to him caressingly and tried to comfort him. the others sympathized deeply with his sorrow; but soon it was dada's turn to weep, for eusebius brought the news of her foster-parent's death in the fight at the serapeum, and of orpheus being severely wounded. the cheerful music-room was a scene of woe till demetrius came to conduct his brother and dada to the widow mary who was expecting them. he had arrived in a chariot, for he declared his legs would no longer carry him. "men," said he, "are like horses. a swift saddle-horse is soon tired when it is driven in harness and a heavy cart-horse when it is made to gallop. his hoofs were spoilt for city pavements, and scheming, struggling and running about the streets were too much for his country brains and wore him out, as trotting under a saddle would weary a ploughhorse. he thanked the gods that this day was over. he would not be rested enough till to-morrow to be really glad of all his success."--but in spite of this assertion he was radiant with overflowing satisfaction, and that in itself cheered the mourners whom he tried to encourage. when he said they must be going, gorgo kissed the little singer; indeed, as soon as she saw how deeply she was grieved, shedding bitter but silent tears, she had hastened to take her in her arms and comfort her like a sister. constantine, gorgo and old eusebius were left together, and the young girl was longing to unburden her over-full heart. she had agreed to her lover's request that she would at once accompany him to see his sorrowing parents; still, she could not appear before the old christian couple and crave their blessing in her present mood. recent events had embittered her happy belief in the creed into which she had thrown herself, and much as it pained her to add a drop to constantine's cup of sorrow, duty and honesty commanded that she should show him the secrets of her soul and the doubts and questionings which had begun to trouble her. the old priest's presence was a comfort to her; for her earnest wish was to become a christian from conviction; as soon as they were alone she poured out before them all the accusations she had to bring against the adherents of their faith: they had triumphed in ruining the creations of art; the temple of isis and the ship-yard lay in ashes, destroyed by christian incendiaries; their tears were not yet dry when they flowed afresh for the sons of porphyrius--christians themselves--who, unless some happy accident had saved them, must have perished with thousands of innocent sufferers--believers and infidels together--by the orders of the emperor whom constantine had always lauded as a wise sovereign and pious christian, as the defender of the faith, and as a faithful disciple of the redeemer. when, at last, she came to an end of her indictment she appealed to constantine and eusebius to defend the proceedings of their coreligionists, and to give her good grounds for confessing a creed which could sanction such ruthless deeds. neither the deacon nor his pupil attempted to excuse these acts; nay, constantine thought they were in plain defiance of that high law of love which the christian faith imposes on all its followers. the wicked servant, he declared, had committed crimes in direct opposition to the spirit and the letter of the master. but this admission by no means satisfied gorgo; she represented to the young christian that a master must be judged by the deeds of his servant; she herself had turned from the old gods only because she felt such intense contempt for their worshippers; but now it had been her lot to see--the deacon must pardon her for saying so--that many a christian far outdid the infidels in coarse brutality and cruelty. such an experience had filled her with distrust of the creed she was required to subscribe to--she was shaken to the very foundations of her being. eusebius had, till now, listened in silence; but as she ended he went towards her, and asked her gently whether she would think it right to turn the fertilizing nile from its bed and leave its shores dry, because, from time to time, it destroyed fields and villages in the excess of its overflow? "this day and its deeds of shame," he went on sadly, "are a blot on the pure and sublime book of the history of our faith, and every true christian must bitterly bewail the excesses of a frenzied mob. the church must no less condemn caesar's sanguinary vengeance; it casts a shade on his honor and his fair name, and his conscience no doubt will punish him for such a crime. far be it from me to defend deeds which nothing can justify. . ." but gorgo interrupted him. "all this," she said, "does not alter the fact that such crimes are just as possible and as frequent with you, as with those whom i am expected to give up, and who. . ." "but it is not merely on account of their ill deeds that you are giving them up, gorgo," constantine broke in. "confess, dear girl, that your wrath makes you unjust to yourself and your own heart. it was not out of aversion for the ruthless and base adherents of the old gods but--as i hope and believe--out of love for me that you consented to adopt my faith--our faith." "true, true," she exclaimed, coloring as she remembered the doubts dada had cast on the truth of her love. "true, out of love for you--love of love and of peace, i consented to become a christian. but with regard to the deeds committed by your followers, tell me yourself--and i appeal to you reverend father--what inspired them: love or hate." "hate!" said constantine gloomily; and eusebius added sorrowfully "in these dark days our faith is seen under an aspect that by no means fairly represents its true nature, noble lady; trust my words! have you not yourself seen, even in your short life, that what is highest and greatest can in its excess, be all that is most hideous? a noble pride, if not kept within bounds, becomes overweening ambition; the lovely grace of humility degenerates into an indolent sacrifice of opinion and will; high-hearted enterprise into a mad chase after fortune, in which we ride down everything that comes in the way of success. what is nobler than a mother's love, but when she fights for her child she becomes a raving megaera. in the same way the faith--the consoler of hearts--turns to a raging wild-beast when it stoops to become religious partisanship. if you would really understand christianity you must look neither down to the deluded masses, and those ambitious worldlings who only use it as a means to an end by inflaming their baser passions, nor up to the throne, where power translates the impulse of a disastrous moment into sinister deeds. if you want to know what true and pure christianity is, look into our homes, look at the family life of our fellow believers. i know them well, for my humble functions lead me into daily and hourly intercourse with them. look to them if you purpose to give your hand to a christian and make your home with him. there, my child, you will see all the blessings of the saviour's teaching, love and soberness, pitifulness to the poor and a real heart-felt eagerness to forgive injuries. i have seen a christian bestow his last crust on his hapless foe, on the enemy of his house, on the heathen or the jew, because they, too, are men, because our neighbor's woes should be as our own--i have seen them taken in and cherished as though they were fellow-christians.--there you will find a striving after all that is good, a never-fading hope in better days to come, even under the worst afflictions; and when death requires the sacrifice of all that is dearest, or swoops down on life itself, a firm assurance of the forgiveness of sins through christ. believe me, mistress, there is no home so happy as that of the christian; for he who really apprehends the saviour and understands his teaching need not mar his own joys in this life to the end that he may be a partaker of the bliss of the next. on the contrary: he who called the erring to himself, who drew little children to his heart, who esteemed the poor above the rich, who was a cheerful guest at wedding-feasts, who bid us gain interest on the spiritual talents in our care, who commanded us to remember him at a social meal, who opened hearts to love--he longed to release the life of the humblest creature from want and suffering. where love and peace reign must there not be happiness? and as he preached love and peace above all else, he cannot have desired that we should intentionally darken our lives on earth and load them with sorrow and miseries in order to will our share of heaven. the soul that is full of the happy confidence of being one with him and his love, is released from the bondage of sin and sorrow, even here below; for jesus has taken all the sins and pains of the world on himself; and if fate visits the christian with the heaviest blows he bears them in silence and patience. our lord is love itself; neither hatred nor envy are known to him as they are to the gods of the heathen; and when he afflicts us, it is as the wise and tender pastor of our souls, and for our good. the omniscient lord knows his own counsel, and the christian submits as a child does to a wise father whose loving kindness he can always trust; nay, he can even thank him for sorrow and pain as though they were pleasurable benefits." gorgo shook her head. "that all sounds very beautiful and good; it is required of the christian, and sometimes, no doubt, fulfilled; but the stoa demands the same virtues of its disciples. you, constantine, knew damon the stoic, and you will remember how strictly he enjoined on all that they should rise superior to pain and grief. and then, when his only daughter lost her sight--she was a great friend of mine--he behaved like one possessed. my father, too, has often spoken to you of philosophy as a help to contemning the discomforts of life, and bearing the sports of fate with a lofty mind; and now? you should see the poor man, reverend father. what good have all the teachings of the great master done him?" "but he has lost so much--so much!" sighed constantine thinking of his own loss; and eusebius shook his head. "in sorrow such as his, no philosophy, no mental effort can avail. the blows that wound the affections can only be healed by the affections, and not by the intellect and considerations of reason. faith, child! faith is the true herb of grace. the intellect is its foe; the feelings are its native soil where it finds constant nourishment; and however deep the bleeding wound of the mourner may be, faith can heal it and reconcile the sufferer to his loss. you have been taught to value a fine understanding, to measure everything by it, to build everything on its decisions. to you the knowledge you have attained to by argument and inference is supreme; but the creator has given us a heart as well as a brain; our affections, too, stir and grow in their own way, and the knowledge they can attain to, my child, is faith. you love--and love is part of your affections; and now take my advice; do not let that reasoning intelligence, which has nothing to do with love, have anything to say in the matter; cherish your love and nurture it from the rich stores of your heart; thus only can it thrive to beauty and harmony.--and this must suffice for to-day, for i have already kept the wounded waiting too long in the serapeum. if you desire it, another time i will show you christianity in all its depth and beauty, and your love for this good man will prepare the way and open your heart to my teaching. a day will come when you will be able to listen to the voice of your heart as gladly as you have hitherto obeyed the dictates of your intellect; something new will be born in you which you will esteem as a treasure above all you ever acquired by reason and thought. that day will assuredly dawn on you; for he whom you love has opened the path for you that leads to the gates of truth; and as you seek you will not fail to find.--and so farewell. when you crave a teacher you have only to come to him --and i know he will not have long to wait." gorgo looked thoughtfully at the old man as he went away and then went with constantine to see his parents. it was in total silence that they made their way along the short piece of road to the house of clemens. lights were visible in the viridarium and the curtains of the doorway were drawn back; as they reached the threshold constantine pointed to a bier which had been placed in the little court among the flower-beds; his parents were on their knees by the side of it. neither he nor gorgo ventured to disturb their wordless devotions, but presently the ship-master rose, drawing his fine, stalwart figure to its full height; then turning his kind, manly, grave face to his wife, who had also risen to her feet, he laid one hand on her still abundant white hair and held out the other which she took in hers. mariamne dried her eyes and looked up, in her husband's face as he said firmly and calmly: "the lord gave and the lord hath taken away!' she hid her face on his shoulder and responded sadly but fervently: "blessed be the name of the lord!" "yea--blessed!" repeated clemens emphatically but he passed his arm across his eyes. "for thirty-two years hath he lent him to us; and in our hearts . . . ." and he struck his broad breast, "in here, he will never die for you or for me. as for the rest--and there was a deal of property of our own and of other folks in these wood-piles--well, in time we shall get over that. we may bless the almighty for what we have left!" gorgo felt her lover's hand grasp hers more tightly and she understood what he meant; she clung closer to him and whispered softly: "yes, that is grand--that is the truth." chapter xxviii. in the great house in the canopic street it was late ere all was quiet for the night. even demetrius, in spite of his fatigue, broke through his rule of "early to bed"; he felt he must see the reaping of the harvest he had sown for his brother. it had been no easy task to persuade mary to accede to his importunities, but to his great joy he at last succeeded. he would have met with a rough dismissal if he had begun by praising dada and expressing his wish to see her married to marcus; he had gained his point inch by inch, very quietly; but when he had explained to her that it was in his hands to secure the martyr's crown for her husband she had turned suspicious and ironical, had made him swear that it was true, threatening him with punishments in this world and in the next; but he had let it all pass over his head, had solemnly sworn as she desired him, pledging not merely the salvation of his soul but his possessions in this world; till, at length, convinced that it really was in his power to gratify the dearest wish of her heart, she had yielded somewhat and altered her demeanor. still, he had not spoken a word to help her through her deliberations and bewilderment, but had left her to fight out the hard struggle with her own soul; not without some malicious enjoyment but also not without anxiety, till the first decisive question was put to him by his stepmother. she had heard that dada was quite resolved to be baptized, and having once more made sure of the fact that the girl was anxious to become a christian, she next asked: "and it was marcus who won her to the faith?" "he alone." "and you can swear that she is a pure-minded and well-conducted girl?" certainly, with the firmest conviction." "i saw her in the arena--she is pretty, uncommonly charming indeed--and marcus...?" "he has set his heart on the girl, and i am sure that his passion is sincere and unselfish. on the other hand i need hardly remind you that in this city there are many women, even among those of the first rank, whose birth and origin are far more doubtful than those of your son's little friend, for she, at any rate, is descended from free and respectable parents. her uncle's connections are among the best families in sicily; not that we need trouble ourselves about that, for the wife of philip's grandson would command respect even if she were only a freedwoman." "i know, i know," murmured mary, as though all this were of minor importance in her eyes; and then for some little time she remained silent. at last she looked up and exclaimed in a voice that betrayed the struggle still going on in her soul: "what have i to care for but my child's happiness? in the sight of god we are all equal--great and small alike; and i myself am but a weak woman, full of defects and sins--but for all that i could have wished that the only son of a noble house might have chosen differently. all i can say is that i must look upon this marriage as a humiliation laid upon me by the almighty--still, i give it my sanction and blessing, and i will do freely and with my whole heart if my son's bride brings as her marriage-portion the one thing which is the first and last aim of all my desires: the everlasting glory of apelles. the martyr's crown will open the gates of heaven to him--who was your father, too, demetrius. gain that and i myself will lead the singer to my son's arms." "that is a bargain!" cried demetrius--and soon after midnight he had retired to rest, after seeing mary fulfil her promise to give a parental blessing to the betrothed pair. a few weeks later dada and gorgo were both baptized, and both by the name of cecilia; and then, at mary's special entreaty, marcus' marriage was solemzed with much pomp by the bishop himself. still, and in spite of the lavish demonstrations of more than motherly affection which the widow showered her daughter-in-law, dada felt a stranger, and ill at ease in the great house in the canopic way. when demetrius, a few weeks after their marriage, proposed marcus that he should undertake the management of family estates in cyrenaica, she jumped at the suggestion; and marcus at once decided to act upon it when his brother promised to remain with him for the first year or two, helping him with his advice and instructions. their fears lest mary should oppose the project, proved unfounded; for, though the widow declared that life would be a burden to her without her children, she soon acceded to her son's wishes and admitted that they were kind and wise. she need not fear isolation, for, as the widow of the martyred apelles, she was the recognized leader of the christian sisterhood in the town, and preferred working in a larger circle than that of the family. she always spoke with enthusiasm to her visitors of her daughter-in-law cecilia, of her beauty, her piety and her gentleness; in fact, she did all she could to make it appear that she herself had chosen her son's wife. but she did not care to keep this "beloved daughter" with her in alexandria, for the foremost position in every department of social life was far more certain to be conceded to the noble widow of a "martyred witness" in the absence of the pretty little converted singer. so the young couple moved to cyrenaica, and dada was happy in learning to govern her husband's large estates with prudence and good sense. the gay singing-girl became a capable housewife, and the idle horse-loving marcus a diligent farmer. for three years demetrius staid with them as adviser and superintendent; even afterwards he frequently visited them, and for months at a time, and he was wont to say: "in alexandria i am heart and soul, a heathen, but in the house with your cecilia i am happy to be a christian." before they quitted the city a terrible blow fell on eusebius. the sermon he had delivered just before the overthrow of serapes, to soothe the excited multitude and guide them in the right way, had been regarded by the bishop of the zealot priests, who happened to be present, as blasphemous and as pandering to the infidels; theophilus, therefore, had charged his nephew cyril--his successor in the see--to verify the facts and enquire into the deacon's orthodoxy. it thus came to light that agne, an arian, was not only living under his roof, but had been trusted by him to nurse certain sick persons among the orthodox; the old man was condemned by cyril to severe acts of penance, but theophilus decided that he must be deprived of his office in the city, where men of sterner stuff were needed, and only allowed the charge of souls in a country congregation. it was a cruel blow to the venerable couple to be forced to quit the house and the little garden where they had been happy together for half a lifetime; however, the change proved to be to their advantage, for marcus invited his worthy teacher to be the spiritual pastor of his estates. the churches he built for his peasants were consecrated by eusebius, whose mild doctrine and kindly influence persuaded many laborers and slaves to be baptized and to join his flock of disciples. but the example and amiability of their young mistress was even more effectual than his preaching. men and women, slaves and free, all adored and respected her; to imitate her in all she did could only lead to honor and happiness, could only be right and good and wise. thus by degrees, and without the exertion of any compulsion, the temples and shrines on the martyr's inheritance were voluntarily abandoned, and fell into ruin and decay. it was the same on the property of constantine, which lay at no more than a day's journey from that of marcus; the two young couples were faithful friends and good neighbors. the estate which had come into constantine's possession had belonged to barkas, the libyan, who, with his troops, had been so anxiously and vainly expected to succor the serapeum. the state had confiscated his extensive and valuable lands, and the young officer, after retiring from the service, had purchased them with the splendid fortune left to gorgo by her grandmother. the two sons of porphyrius had, as it proved, been so happy as to escape in the massacre at thessalonica; and as they were christians and piously orthodox, the old man transferred to them, during his lifetime, the chief share of his wealth; so that henceforth he could live honestly--alienated from the church and a worshipper of the old gods, without anxiety as to his will. the treasures of art which constantine and gorgo found in the house of barkas they carefully preserved, though, ere long, few heathen were to be found even in this neighborhood which had formerly been the headquarters of rebellion on behalf of the old religion. papias was brought up with the children of marcus and dada cecilia, while his sister agne, finding herself relieved of all care on his account, sought and found her own way through life. orpheus, after seeing his parents killed in the fight at the serapeum, was carried, sorely wounded, to the sick-house of which eusebius was spiritual director. agne had volunteered to nurse him and had watched by his couch day and night. eusebius had also brought dada and papias to visit them, and dada had promised, on behalf of marcus, that agne and her brother should always be provided for, even in the event of the good deacon's death. the little boy was for the moment placed in eusebius' care, and it was a, cause of daily rejoicing to agne to hear from the kind old man of all the charming qualities he discovered in the child who was perfectly happy with the old folks, and who, though he was always delighted to see his sister, was quite content to part from her and return home with eusebius, or with dada, to whole he was devoted. orpheus recognized no one, neither agne nor the child--and when visitors had been to see him, in his fevered ravings he would talk more vehemently than ever of great apollo and other heathen divinities. then he would fancy that he was still fighting in the serapeum and butchering thousands of christian foes with his own hand. agne, whom he rarely recognized for a moment, would talk soothingly to him, and even try to say a few words about the saviour and the life to come; but he always interrupted her with blasphemous exclamations, and cursed and abused her. never had she gone through such anguish of soul as by his bed of suffering, and yet she could not help gazing at his face; and when she told herself that he must soon be no more, that the light of his eyes would cease to shine on hers, she felt as though the sun were about to be extinguished and the earth darkened for all time. however, his healthy vigor kept him lingering for many days and nights. on the last evening of his life he took agne for a muse, and calling to her to come to him seized her hand and sank back unconscious, never to move again. she stood there as the minutes slowly passed, waiting in agonized suspense till his hand should be cold in hers; and as she waited she overheard a dialogue between two deaconesses who were watching by a sleeping patient. one of them was telling the other that her sister's husband, a mason, had died an obdurate heathen and a bitter enemy of the christian church. then dorothea, his widow, had devoted herself to saving his soul; she left her children, abandoning them to the charity of the congregation, and had withdrawn to a cloister to pray in silence and unceasingly for the soul of her deceased husband. at first he used to appear to her in her dreams, with furious gestures, accompanied by centaurs and goat-footed creatures, and had desired her to go home to her children and leave his soil in peace, for that he was in very good quarters with the jolly devils; but soon after she had seen him again with scorched limbs, and he lead implored her to pray fervently for mercy on him, for that they were torturing him cruelly in hell. dorothea had then retired into the desert of kolzoum where she was still living in a cave, feeding on herbs, roots, and shell-fish thrown up on the sea-shore. she had schooled herself to do without sleep, and prayed day and night for her husband's soul; and she lead obtained strength never to think of anything but her own and her husband's salvation, and to forget her children completely. her fervid devotion had at length met with full reward; for some little time her husband had appeared to her in a robe of shining light and often attended by lovely angels. agne had not lost a word of this narrative, and when, next morning, she felt the cold hand of the dead youth and looked at his drawn and painstricken features, she shuddered with vague terrors: he, she thought, like dorothea's husband, must have hell-torments to endure. when she presently found herself alone with the corpse she bent over it and kissed the pale lips, and swore to herself that she would save his soul. that same evening she went back to eusebius and told him of her wish to withdraw to the desert of koizoum and become a recluse. the old man besought her to remain with him, to take charge of her little brother, and not to abandon him and his old wife; for that it was a no less lovely christian duty to be compassionate and helpful, and cherish the feeble in their old age. his wife added her entreaties and tears; but a sudden chill had gripped agne's heart; dry-eyed and rigid she resisted their prayers, and took leave of her benefactors and of papias. bare-foot and begging her way, she started for the south-east and reached the shores of the red sea. there she found the stonemason's widow, emaciated and haggard, with matted hair, evidently dying. agne remained with her, closed her eyes, and then lived on as dorothea had lived, in the same cave, till the fame of her sanctity spread far beyond the boundaries of egypt. when papias had grown to man's estate and was installed as steward to demetrius, he sought his sister many times and tried to persuade her to live with him in his new home; but she never would consent to quit her solitary cell. she would not have exchanged it for a king's palace; for orpheus appeared to her in nightly visions, radiant with the glories of heaven; and time was passing and the hour drawing near when she might hope to be with him once more. the widow mary, in her later years, made many pilgrimages to holy places and saintly persons, and among others to agne, the recluse; but she would never be induced to visit cyrenaica, whither she was frequently invited by her children and grandchildren; some more powerful excitant was needed to prompt her to face the discomforts of a journey. the old heathen cults had completely vanished from the greek capital long before her death. with it died the splendor and the power of the second city in the world; and of all the glories of the city of serapis nothing now remains but a mighty column--[known as pompey's pillar.]--towering to the skies, the last surviving fragment of the beautiful temple of the sovereign-god whose fall marked so momentous an epoch in the life of the human race. but, like this pillar, outward beauty--the sense of form that characterized the heathen mind--has survived through the ages. we can gaze up at the one and the other, and wherever the living truth--the spirit of christianity--has informed and penetrated that form of beauty, the highest hopes of old eusebius have been realized. their union is solemnized in christian art. etext editor's bookmarks: what have i to care for but my child's happiness? faith is the true herb of grace. the intellect is its foe this ebook was produced by david widger <widger@cecomet.net> [note: there is a short list of bookmarks, or pointers, at the end of the file for those who may wish to sample the author's ideas before making an entire meal of them. d.w.] an egyptian princess, part 1. by georg ebers volume 4. chapter xi. three days before the time fixed for the departure of nitetis, rhodopis had invited a large number of guests to her house at naukratis, amongst whom croesus and gyges were included. the two lovers had agreed to meet in the garden, protected by the darkness and the old slave, while the guests were occupied at the banquet. melitta, therefore, having convinced herself that the guests were thoroughly absorbed in conversation, opened the garden-gate, admitted the prince, brought sappho to him, and then retired, promising to warn them of any intruder by clapping her hands. "i shall only have you near me three days longer," whispered sappho. "do you know, sometimes it seems to me as if i had only seen you yesterday for the first time; but generally i feel as if you had belonged to me for a whole eternity, and i had loved you all my life." "to me too it seems as if you had always been mine, for i cannot imagine how i could ever have existed without you. if only the parting were over and we were together again!" "oh, believe me, that will pass more quickly than you fancy. of course it will seem long to wait--very long; but when it is over, and we are together again, i think it will seem as if we had never been parted. so it has been with me every day. how i have longed for the morning to come and bring you with it! but when it came and you were sitting by my side, i felt as if i had had you all the time and your hand had never left my head." "and yet a strange feeling of fear comes over me, when i think of our parting hour." "i do not fear it so very much. i know my heart will bleed when you say farewell, but i am sure you will come back and will not have forgotten me. melitta wanted to enquire of the oracle whether you would remain faithful; and to question an old woman who has just come from phrygia and can conjure by night from drawn cords, with incense, styrax, moon-shaped cakes, and wild-briar leaves; but i would have none of this, for my heart knows better than the pythia, the cords, or the smoke of sacrifice, that you will be true to me, and love me always." "and your heart speaks the truth." "but i have sometimes been afraid; and have blown into a poppy-leaf, and struck it, as the young girls here do. if it broke with a loud crack i was very happy, and cried, 'ah! he will not forget!' but if the leaf tore without a sound i felt sad. i dare say i did this a hundred times, but generally the leaf gave the wished-for sound, and i had much oftener reason to be joyful than sad." "may it be ever thus!" "it must be! but dearest, do not speak so loudly; i see knakias going down to the nile for water and he will hear us." "well, i will speak low. there, i will stroke back your silky hair and whisper in your ear 'i love you.' could you understand?" "my grandmother says that it is easy to understand what we like to hear; but if you had just whispered, 'i hate you,' your eyes would have told me with a thousand glad voices that you loved me. silent eyes are much more eloquent than all the tongues in the world." "if i could only speak the beautiful greek language as you do, i would.." "oh, i am so glad you cannot, for if you could tell me all you feel, i think you would not look into my eyes so lovingly. words are nothing. listen to the nightingale yonder! she never had the gift of speech and yet i think i can understand her." "will you confide her secret to me? i should like to know what gulgul, as we persians call the nightingale, has to talk about to her mate in the rose-bush. may you betray her secret?" "i will whisper it softly. philomel sings to her mate 'i love thee,' and he answers, (don't you hear him?), 'itys, ito, itys.'" "and what does that mean, 'ito, ito?'" "i accept it." "and itys?" "oh, that must be explained, to be rightly understood. itys is a circle; and a circle, i was always taught, is the symbol of eternity, having neither beginning nor end; so the nightingale sings, 'i accept it for eternity.'" "and if i say to you, 'i love thee?'" "then i shall answer gladly, like the sweet nightingale, 'i accept it for to-day, to-morrow, for all eternity!'" "what a wonderful night it is! everything so still and silent; i do not even hear the nightingale now; she is sitting in the acacia-tree among the bunches of sweet blossoms. i can see the tops of the palm-trees in the nile, and the moon's reflection between them, glistening like a white swan." "yes, her rays are over every living thing like silver fetters, and the whole world lies motionless beneath them like a captive woman. happy as i feel now, yet i could not even laugh, and still less speak in a loud voice." "then whisper, or sing!" "yes, that is the best. give me a lyre. thank you. now i will lean my head on your breast, and sing you a little, quiet, peaceful song. it was written by alkman, the lydian, who lived in sparta, in praise of night and her stillness. you must listen though, for this low, sweet slumbersong must only leave the lips like a gentle wind. do not kiss me any more, please, till i have finished; then i will ask you to thank me with a kiss: "now o'er the drowsy earth still night prevails, calm sleep the mountain tops and shady vales, the rugged cliffs and hollow glens; the wild beasts slumber in their dens; the cattle on the bill. deep in the sea the countless finny race and monster brood tranquil repose. even the busy bee forgets her daily toil. the silent wood no more with noisy hum of insect rings; and all the feathered tribe, by gentle sleep subdued, roost in the glade and hang their drooping wings." --translation by colonel mure. "now, dearest, where is my kiss?" "i had forgotten it in listening, just as before i forgot to listen in kissing." "you are too bad. but tell me, is not my song lovely?" "yes, beautiful, like everything else you sing." "and the greek poets write?" "yes, there you are right too, i admit." "are there no poets in persia?" "how can you ask such a question? how could a nation, who despised song, pretend to any nobility of feeling?" "but you have some very bad customs." "well?" "you take so many wives." "my sappho . . ." "do not misunderstand me. i love you so much, that i have no other wish than to see you happy and be allowed to be always with you. if, by taking me for your only wife, you would outrage the laws of your country, if you would thereby expose yourself to contempt, or even blame, (for who could dare to despise my bartja!) then take other wives; but let me have you, for myself alone, at least two, or perhaps even three years. will you promise this, bartja?" "i will." "and then, when my time has passed, and you must yield to the customs of your country (for it will not be love that leads you to bring home a second wife), then let me be the first among your slaves. oh! i have pictured that so delightfully to myself. when you go to war i shall set the tiara on your head, gird on the sword, and place the lance in your hand; and when you return a conqueror, i shall be the first to crown you with the wreath of victory. when you ride out to the chase, mine will be the duty of buckling on your spurs, and when you go to the banquet, of adorning and anointing you, winding the garlands of poplar and roses and twining them around your forehead and shoulders. if wounded, i will be your nurse; will never stir from your side if you are ill, and when i see you happy will retire, and feast my eyes from afar on your glory and happiness. then perchance you will call me to your side, and your kiss will say, 'i am content with my sappho, i love her still.'" "o sappho, wert thou only my wife now!--to-day! the man who possesses such a treasure as i have in thee, will guard it carefully, but never care to seek for others which, by its side, can only show their miserable poverty. he who has once loved thee, can never love another: i know it is the custom in my country to have many wives, but this is only allowed; there is no law to enjoin it. my father had, it is true, a hundred female slaves, but only one real, true wife, our mother kassandane." "and i will be your kassandane." "no, my sappho, for what you will be to me, no woman ever yet was to her husband." "when shall you come to fetch me?" "as soon as i can, and am permitted to do so." "then i ought to be able to wait patiently." "and shall i ever hear from you?" "oh, i shall write long, long letters, and charge every wind with loving messages for you." "yes, do so, my darling; and as to the letters, give them to the messenger who will bring nitetis tidings from egypt from time to time." "where shall i find him?" "i will see that a man is stationed at naukratis, to take charge of everything you send to him. all this i will settle with melitta." "yes, we can trust her, she is prudent and faithful; but i have another friend, who is dearer to me than any one else excepting you, and who loves me too better than any one else does, but you--" "you mean your grandmother rhodopis." "yes, my faithful guardian and teacher." "ah, she is a noble woman. croesus considers her the most excellent among women, and he has studied mankind as the physicians do plants and herbs. he knows that rank poison lies hidden in some, in others healing cordials, and often says that rhodopis is like a rose which, while fading away herself, and dropping leaf after leaf, continues to shed perfume and quickening balsam for the sick and weak, and awaits in patience the wind which at last shall waft her from us." "the gods grant that she may be with us for a long time yet! dearest, will you grant me one great favor?" "it is granted before i hear it." "when you take me home, do not leave rhodopis here. she must come with us. she is so kind and loves me so fervently, that what makes me happy will make her so too, and whatever is dear to me, will seem to her worthy of being loved." "she shall be the first among our guests." "now i am quite happy and satisfied, for i am necessary to my grandmother; she could not live without her child. i laugh her cares and sorrows away, and when she is singing to me, or teaching me how to guide the style, or strike the lute, a clearer light beams from her brow, the furrows ploughed by grief disappear, her gentle eyes laugh, and she seems to forget the evil past in the happy present." "before we part, i will ask her whether she will follow us home." "oh, how glad that makes me! and do you know, the first days of our absence from each other do not seem so very dreadful to me. now you are to be my husband, i may surely tell you everything that pains or pleases me, even when i dare not tell any one else, and so you must know, that, when you leave, we expect two little visitors; they are the children of the kind phanes, whom your friend gyges saved so nobly. i mean to be like a mother to the little creatures, and when they have been good i shall sing them a story of a prince, a brave hero, who took a simple maiden to be his wife; and when i describe the prince i shall have you in my mind, and though my little listeners will not guess it, i shall be describing you from head to foot. my prince shall be tall like you, shall have your golden curls and blue eyes, and your rich, royal dress shall adorn his noble figure. your generous heart, your love of truth, and your beautiful reverence for the gods, your courage and heroism, in short, every thing that i love and honor in you, i shall give to the hero of my tale. how the children will listen! and when they cry, 'oh, how we love the prince, how good and beautiful he must be! if we could only see him? then i shall press them close to my heart and kiss them as i kiss you now, and so they will have gained their wish, for as you are enthroned in my heart, you must be living within me and therefore near to them, and when they embrace me they will embrace you too." "and i shall go to my little sister atossa and tell her all i have seen on my journey, and when i speak of the greeks, their grace, their glorious works of art, and their beautiful women, i shall describe the golden aphrodite in your lovely likeness. i shall tell her of your virtue, your beauty and modesty, of your singing, which is so sweet that even the nightingale is silent in order to listen to it, of your love and tenderness. but all this i shall tell her belongs to the divine cypris, and when she cries, 'o aphrodite, could i but see thee!' i too shall kiss my sister." "hark, what was that? melitta surely clapped her hands. farewell, we must not stay! but we shall soon see each other again." "one more kiss!" "farewell!" melitta had fallen asleep at her post, overcome by age and weariness. her dreams were suddenly disturbed by a loud noise, and she clapped her hands directly to warn the lovers and call sappho, as she perceived by the stars that the dawn was not far off. as the two approached the house, they discovered that the noise which had awakened the old slave, proceeded from the guests, who were preparing for departure. urging her to make the greatest haste, melitta pushed the frightened girl into the house, took her at once to her sleeping-room, and was beginning to undress her when rhodopis entered. "you are still up, sappho?" she asked. "what is this, my child?" melitta trembled and had a falsehood ready on her lips, but sappho, throwing herself into her grandmother's arms, embraced her tenderly and told the whole story of her love. rhodopis turned pale, ordered melitta to leave the chamber, and, placing herself in front of her grandchild, laid both hands on her shoulders and said earnestly, "look into my eyes, sappho. canst thou look at me as happily and as innocently, as thou couldst before this persian came to us?" the girl raised her eyes at once with a joyful smile; then rhodopis clasped her to her bosom, kissed her and continued: "since thou wert a little child my constant effort has been to train thee to a noble maidenhood and guard thee from the approach of love. i had intended, in accordance with the customs of our country, to choose a fitting husband for thee shortly myself, to whose care i should have committed thee; but the gods willed differently. [the spartans married for love, but the athenians were accustomed to negotiate their marriages with the parents of the bride alone.] eros mocks all human efforts to resist or confine him; warm aeolian blood runs in thy veins and demands love; the passionate heart of thy lesbian forefathers beats in thy breast. [charaxus, the grandfather of our heroine, and brother of the poetess sappho, was, as a lesbian, an aeolian greek.] what has happened cannot now be undone. treasure these happy hours of a first, pure love; hold them fast in the chambers of memory, for to every human being there must come, sooner or later, a present so sad and desolate, that the beautiful past is all he has to live upon. remember this handsome prince in silence, bid him farewell when he departs to his native country, but beware of hoping to see him again. the persians are fickle and inconstant, lovers of everything new and foreign. the prince has been fascinated by thy sweetness and grace. he loves thee ardently now, but remember, he is young and handsome, courted by every one, and a persian. give him up that he may not abandon thee!" "but how can i, grandmother? i have sworn to be faithful to him for ever." "oh, children! ye play with eternity as if it were but a passing moment! i could blame thee for thus plighting thy troth, but i rejoice that thou regardest the oath as binding. i detest the blasphemous proverb: 'zeus pays no heed to lovers' oaths.' why should an oath touching the best and holiest feelings of humanity be regarded by the deity, as inferior in importance to asseverations respecting the trifling questions of mine and thine? keep thy promise then,--hold fast thy love, but prepare to renounce thy lover." "never, grandmother! could i ever have loved bartja, if i had not trusted him? just because he is a persian and holds truth to be the highest virtue, i may venture to hope that he will remember his oath, and, notwithstanding those evil customs of the asiatics, will take and keep me as his only wife." "but if he should forget, thy youth will be passed in mourning, and with an embittered heart . . ." "o, dear kind grandmother, pray do not speak of such dreadful things. if you knew him as well as i do, you would rejoice with me, and would tell me i was right to believe that the nile may dry up and the pyramids crumble into ruins, before my bartja can ever deceive me!" the girl spoke these words with such a joyful, perfect confidence, and her eyes, though filled with tears, were so brilliant with happiness and warmth of feeling, that rhodopis' face grew cheerful too. sappho threw her arms again round her grandmother, told her every word that bartja had said to her, and ended the long account by exclaiming: "oh, grandmother, i am so happy, so very happy, and if you will come with us to persia, i shall have nothing more to wish from the immortals." "that will not last long," said rhodopis. "the gods cast envious glances at the happiness of mortals; they measure our portion of evil with lavish hands, and give us but a scanty allowance of good. but now go to bed, my child, and let us pray together that all may end happily. i met thee this morning as a child, i part from thee to-night a woman; and, when thou art a wife, may thy kiss be as joyful as the one thou givest me now. to-morrow i will talk the matter over with croesus. he must decide whether i dare allow thee to await the return of the persian prince, or whether i must entreat thee to forget him and become the domestic wife of a greek husband. sleep well, my darling, thy grandmother will wake and watch for thee." sappho's happy fancies soon cradled her to sleep; but rhodopis remained awake watching the day dawn, and the sun rise, her mind occupied with thoughts which brought smiles and frowns across her countenance in rapid succession. the next morning she sent to croesus, begging him to grant her an hour's interview, acquainted him with every particular she had heard from sappho, and concluded her tale with these words: "i know not what demands may be made on the consort of a persian king, but i can truly say that i believe sappho to be worthy of the first monarch of the world. her father was free and of noble birth, and i have heard that, by persian law, the descent of a child is determined by the rank of the father only. in egypt, too, the descendants of a female slave enjoy the same rights as those of a princess, if they owe their existence to the same father." "i have listened to you in silence," answered croesus, "and must confess, that, like yourself, i do not know in this moment whether to be glad or sorry for this attachment. cambyses and kassandane (the king's and bartja's mother) wished to see the prince married before we left persia, for the king has no children, and should he remain childless, the only hope for the family of cyrus rests on bartja, as the great founder of the persian empire left but two sons,--cambyses, and him who is now the suitor of your granddaughter. the latter is the hope and pride of the entire persian nation, high and low; the darling of the people; generous, and noble, handsome, virtuous, and worthy of their love. it is indeed expected that the princes shall marry in their own family, the achaemenidae; but the persians have an unbounded predilection for everything foreign. enchanted with the beauty of your granddaughter, and rendered indulgent by their partiality for bartja, they would easily forgive this breach of an ancient custom. indeed, if the king gives his approval, no objection on the part of his subjects can be entertained. the history of iran too offers a sufficient number of examples, in which even slaves became the mothers of kings. the queen mother, whose position, in the eyes of the people, is nearly as high as that of the monarch himself, will do nothing to thwart the happiness of her youngest and favorite son. when she sees that he will not give up sappho,--that his smiling face, in which she adores the image of her great husband cyrus, becomes clouded, i verily believe she would be ready to sanction his taking even a scythian woman to wife, if it could restore him to cheerfulness. neither will cambyses himself refuse his consent if his mother press the point at a right moment." "in that case every difficulty is set aside," cried rhodopis joyfully. "it is not the marriage itself, but the time that must follow, which causes me uneasiness," answered croesus. "do you think then that bartja . . . ?" "from him i fear nothing. he has a pure heart, and has been so long proof against love, that now he has once yielded, he will love long and ardently." "what then do you fear?" "you must remember that, though the charming wife of their favorite will be warmly received by all his friends of his own sex, there are thousands of idle women in the harems of the persian nobles, who will endeavor, by every artifice and intrigue in their power, to injure the newly-risen star; and whose greatest joy it will be to ruin such an inexperienced child and make her unhappy." "you have a very bad opinion of the persian women." "they are but women, and will naturally envy her, who has gained the husband they all desired either for themselves or for their daughters. in their monotonous life, devoid of occupation, envy easily becomes hatred, and the gratification of these evil passions is the only compensation which the poor creatures can obtain for the total absence of love and loss of freedom. i repeat, the more beautiful sappho is, the more malicious they will feel towards her, and, even if bartja should love her so fervently as not to take a second wife for two or three years, she will still have such heavy hours to encounter, that i really do not know whether i dare congratulate you on her apparently brilliant future." "that is quite my own feeling. a simple greek would be more welcome to me than this son of a mighty monarch." in this moment knakias brought bartja into the room. he went to rhodopis at once, besought her not to refuse him the hand of her granddaughter, spoke of his ardent love, and assured her that his happiness would be doubled, if she would consent to accompany them to persia. then turning to croesus, he seized his hand and entreated forgiveness for having so long concealed his great happiness from one who had been like a father to him, at the same time begging him to second his suit with rhodopis. the old man listened to the youth's passionate language with a smile, and said: "ah, bartja, how often have i warned thee against love! it is a scorching fire." "but its flame is bright and beautiful." "it causes pain." "but such pain is sweet." "it leads the mind astray." "but it strengthens the heart." "oh, this love!" cried rhodopis. "inspired by eros, the boy speaks as if he had been all his life studying under an attic orator!" "and yet," answered croesus, "these lovers are the most unteachable of pupils. convince them as clearly as you will, that their passion is only another word for poison, fire, folly, death, they still cry, 'tis sweet,' and will not be hindered in their course." as he was speaking sappho came in. a white festal robe, with wide sleeves, and borders of purple embroidery, fell in graceful folds round her delicate figure, and was confined at the waist by a golden girdle. her hair was adorned with fresh roses, and on her bosom lay her lover's first gift, the flashing diamond star. she came up modestly and gracefully, and made a low obeisance to the aged croesus. his eyes rested long on the maidenly and lovely countenance, and the longer he gazed the kindlier became his gaze. for a moment he seemed to grow young again in the visions conjured up by memory, and involuntarily he went up to the young girl, kissed her affectionately on the forehead, and, taking her by the hand, led her to bartja with the words: "take her, thy wife she must be, if the entire race of the achaemenidae were to conspire against us!" "have i no voice in the matter?" said rhodopis, smiling through her tears. on hearing these words, bartja and sappho each took one of her hands, and gazed entreatingly into her face. she rose to her full stature, and like a prophetess exclaimed: "eros, who brought you to each other, zeus and apollo defend and protect you. i see you now like two fair roses on one stem, loving and happy in the spring of life. what summer, autumn and winter may have in store for you, lies hidden with the gods. may the shades of thy departed parents, sappho, smile approvingly when these tidings of their child shall reach them in the nether world." ................................. three days later a densely packed crowd was once more surging round the sais landing-place. this time they had assembled to bid a last farewell to their king's daughter, and in this hour the people gave clear tokens that, in spite of all the efforts of the priestly caste, their hearts remained loyal to their monarch and his house. for when amasis and ladice embraced nitetis for the last time with tears--when tachot, in presence of all the inhabitants of sais, following her sister down the broad flight of steps that led to the river, threw her arms round her neck once more and burst into sobs--when at last the wind filled the sails of the royal boat and bore the princess, destined to be the great king's bride, from their sight, few eyes among that vast crowd remained dry. the priests alone looked on at this sad scene with unmoved gravity and coldness; but when the south wind at last bore away the strangers who had robbed them of their princess, many a curse and execration followed from the egyptians on the shore; tachot alone stood weeping there and waving her veil to them. for whom were these tears? for the play-fellow of her youth, or for the handsome, beloved prince? amasis embraced his wife and daughter in the eyes of all his people; and held up his little grandson, prince necho, to their gaze, the sight eliciting cries of joy on all sides. but psamtik, the child's own father, stood by the while, tearless and motionless. the king appeared not to observe him, until neithotep approached, and leading him to his father, joined their hands and called down the blessing of the gods upon the royal house. at this the egyptians fell on their knees with uplifted hands. amasis clasped his son to his heart, and when the high-priest had concluded his prayer, the following colloquy between the latter and amasis took place in low tones: "let peace be between us for our own and egypt's sake!" "hast thou received nebenchari's letter?" "a samian pirate-vessel is in pursuit of phanes' trireme." "behold the child of thy predecessor hophra, the rightful heiress of the egyptian throne, departing unhindered to a distant land!" "the works of the greek temple now building in memphis shall be discontinued." "may isis grant us peace, and may prosperity and happiness increase in our land!" ............................ the greek colonists in naukratis had prepared a feast to celebrate the departure of their protector's daughter. numerous animals had been slaughtered in sacrifice on the altars of the greek divinities, and the nile-boats were greeted with a loud cry of "ailinos" on their arrival in the harbor. a bridal wreath, composed of a hoop of gold wound round with scented violets, was presented to nitetis by a troop of young girls in holiday dresses, the act of presentation being performed by sappho, as the most beautiful among the maidens of naukratis. on accepting the gift nitetis kissed her forehead in token of gratitude. the triremes were already waiting; she went on board, the rowers took their oars and began the keleusma. [the measure of the keleusma was generally given by a flute-player, the trieraules. aeschylus, persians 403. laert. diog. iv. 22. in the frogs of aristophanes the inhabitants of the marshes are made to sing the keleusma, v. 205. the melody, to the measure of which the greek boatmen usually timed their strokes.] ailinos rang across the water from a thousand voices. bartja stood on the deck, and waved a last loving farewell to his betrothed; while sappho prayed in silence to aphrodite euploia, the protectress of those who go down to the sea in ships. a tear rolled down her cheek, but around her lips played a smile of love and hope, though her old slave melitta, who accompanied her to carry her parasol, was weeping as if her heart would break. on seeing, however, a few leaves fall from her darling's wreath, she forgot her tears for a moment and whispered softly: "yes, dear heart, it is easy to see that you are in love; when the leaves fall from a maiden's wreath, 'tis a sure sign that her heart has been touched by eros. chapter xii. seven weeks after nitetis had quitted her native country, a long train of equipages and horsemen was to be seen on the king's highway from the west to babylon, moving steadily towards that gigantic city, whose towers might already be descried in the far distance. [the great road called the "king's road," of which we shall have more to say, was made by cyrus and carefully kept up by darius.] the principal object in this caravan was a richly-gilded, four-wheeled carriage, closed in at the sides by curtains, and above by a roof supported on wooden pillars. in this vehicle, called the harmamaxa, resting on rich cushions of gold brocade, sat our egyptian princess. [harmamaxa--an asiatic travelling carriage. the first mention of these is in xenophon's anabasis, where we find a queen travelling in such a vehicle. they were later adopted by the romans and used for the same object.] on either side rode her escort, viz.: the persian princes and nobles whom we have already learnt to know during their visit to egypt, croesus and his son. behind these, a long train, consisting of fifty vehicles of different kinds and six hundred beasts of burden, stretched away into the distance, and the royal carriage was preceded by a troop of splendidly-mounted persian cavalry. the high-road followed the course of the euphrates, passing through luxuriant fields of wheat, barley and sesame yielding fruit two, and sometimes even three, hundred-fold. slender date-palms covered with golden fruit were scattered in every direction over the fields, which were thoroughly irrigated by means of canals and ditches. it was winter, but the sun shone warm and bright from a cloudless sky. the mighty river swarmed with craft of all sizes, either transporting the products of upper armenia to the plains of mesopotamia, or the wares of greece and asia minor from thapsakus to babylon. [thapsakus--an important commercial town on the euphrates, and the point of observation from which eratosthenes took his measurements of the earth.] pumps and water-wheels poured refreshing streams over the thirsty land, and pretty villages ornamented the shores of the river. indeed every object gave evidence that our caravan was approaching the metropolis of a carefully governed and civilized state. nitetis and her retinue now halted at a long brick house, roofed with asphalte, and surrounded by a grove of plane-trees. [asphalte--nearly all authorities, ancient as well as modern, report that bitumen, which is still plentifully found in the neighborhood of babylon, was used by the babylonians as mortar. see, besides the accounts of ancient writers, w. vaux, 'nineveh and persepolis'. burnt bitumen was used by assyrians for cement in building.] here croesus was lifted from his horse, and approaching the carriage, exclaimed: "here we are at length at the last station! that high tower which you see on the horizon is the celebrated temple of bel, next to the pyramids, one of the most gigantic works ever constructed by human hands. before sunset we shall have reached the brazen gates of babylon. and now i would ask you to alight, and let me send your maidens into the house; for here you must put on persian apparel, to appear well-pleasing in the eyes of cambyses. in a few hours you will stand before your future husband. but you are pale! permit your maidens to adorn your cheeks with a color that shall look like the excitement of joy. a first impression is often a final one, and this is especially true with regard to cambyses. if, which i doubt not, you are pleasing in his eyes at first, then you have won his love for ever; but if you should displease him to-day he will never look kindly on you again, for he is rough and harsh. but take courage, my daughter, and above all, do not forget the advice i have given you." nitetis dried her tears as she answered: "how can i ever thank you, o croesus, my second father, my protector and adviser, for all your goodness? oh, forsake me not in the days to come! and if the path of my life should lead through grief and care, be near to help and guide me as you did on the mountain-passes of this long and dangerous journey. a thousand times i thank thee, o my father!" and, as she said these words, the young girl threw her arms around the old man's neck and kissed him tenderly. on entering the court-yard, a tall stout man, followed by a train of asiatic serving-maidens, came forward to meet them. this was boges, the chief of the eunuchs, an important official at the persian court. his beardless face wore a smile of fulsome sweetness; in his ears hung costly jewelled pendents; his neck, arms, legs and his effeminately long garments glittered all over with gold chains and rings, and his crisp, stiff curls, bound round by a purple fillet, streamed with powerful and penetrating perfumes. making a low and reverential obeisance before nitetis, and holding, the while, his fat hands overloaded with rings before his mouth, he thus addressed her: "cambyses, lord of the world, hath sent me to thee, o queen, that i may refresh thy heart with the dew of his salutations. he sendeth thee likewise by me, even by me the lowest of his servants, persian raiment, that thou, as befitteth the consort of the mightiest of all rulers, mayest approach the gates of the achaemenidae in median garments. these women whom thou seest are thy handmaidens, and only await thy bidding to transform thee from an egyptian jewel into a persian pearl." the master of the caravansary then appeared, bearing, in token of welcome, a basket of fruits arranged with great taste. nitetis returned her thanks to both these men in kind and friendly words; then entering the house laid aside the dress and ornaments of her native land, weeping as she did so, allowed the strangers to unloose the plait of hair which hung down at the left side of her head, and was the distinctive mark of an egyptian princess, and to array her in median garments. [in almost all the egyptian pictures, the daughters and sons of the pharaohs are represented with these locks of hair, plaited and reaching from the forehead to the neck. rosellini, mon. stor. ii. 123. lepsius, denkmaler. the daughter of rameses ii. is drawn thus, and we have examples of the same in many other pictures.] in the meantime, a repast had been commanded by the princes who accompanied her. eager and agile attendants rushed to the baggagewaggons, fetching thence, in a few moments, seats, tables, and golden utensils of all kinds. the cooks vied with them and with each other, and as if by magic, in a short space of time a richly-adorned banquet for the hungry guests appeared, at which even the flowers were not wanting. during the entire journey our travellers had lived in a similar luxury, as their beasts of burden carried every imaginable convenience, from tents of water-proof materials inwrought with gold, down to silver footstools; and in the vehicles which composed their train were not only bakers, cooks, cup-bearers and carvers, but perfumers, hair-dressers and weavers of garlands. beside these conveniences, a well-fitted up caravansary, or inn, was to be found about every eighteen miles along the whole route, where disabled horses could be replaced, the plantations around which afforded a refreshing shelter from the noonday heat, or their hearths a refuge from the snow and cold on the mountain-passes. the kingdom of persia was indebted for these inns (similar to the poststations of modern days) to cyrus, who had endeavored to connect the widely-distant provinces of his immense dominions by a system of wellkept roads, and a regular postal service. at each of these stations the horseman carrying the letter-bag was relieved by a fresh man on a fresh steed, to whom the letters were transferred, and who, in his turn, darted off like the wind, to be again replaced at a similar distance by another rider. these couriers, called angari, were considered the swiftest horsemen in the world. [herodotus v. 14. 49-52. persian milestones are still to be found among the ruins of the old king's road, which led from nineveh to ecbatana. the kurds call them keli-shin (blue pillars).] just as the banqueters, amongst whom boges had taken his seat, were rising from table, the door opened, and a vision appeared, which drew prolonged exclamation of surprise from all the persians present. nitetis, clad in the glorious apparel of a median princess, proud in the consciousness of her triumphant beauty, and yet blushing like a young girl at the wondering admiration of her friends, stood before them. the attendants involuntarily fell on their faces before her, according to the custom of the asiatics, and the noble achaemenidae bowed low and reverentially; for it seemed as if nitetis has laid aside all her former bashfulness and timidity with her simple egyptian dress, and with the splendid silken garments of a persian princess, flashing as they were with gold and jewels, had clothed herself in the majesty of a queen. the deep reverence paid by all present seemed agreeable to her, and thanking her admiring friends by a gracious wave of the hand, she turned to the chief of the eunuchs and said in a kind tone but mingled with a touch of pride; "thou hast performed thy mission well; i am content with the raiment and the slaves that thou hast provided and shall commend thy circumspection to the king, my husband. receive this gold chain in the meanwhile, as a token of my gratitude." the eunuch kissed the hem of her garment, and accepted the gift in silence. this man, hitherto omnipotent in his office, had never before encountered such pride in any of the women committed to his charge. up to the present time all cambyses' wives had been asiatics, and, well aware of the unlimited power of the chief of the eunuchs, had used every means within their reach to secure his favor by flattery and submission. boges now made a second obeisance before nitetis, of which, however, she took no notice, and turning to croesus said: "neither words nor gifts could ever suffice to express my gratitude to you, kindest of friends, for, if my future life at the court of persia prove, i will not venture to say a happy, but even a peaceful one, it is to you alone that i shall owe it. still, take this ring. it has never left my finger since i quitted egypt, and it has a significance far beyond its outward worth. pythagoras, the noblest of the greeks, gave it to my mother, when he was tarrying in egypt to learn the wisdom of our priests, and it was her parting gift to me. the number seven is engraved upon the simple stone. this indivisible number represents perfect health, both to soul and body for health is likewise one and indivisible. [seven, the "motherless" number, which has no factor below ten.] the sickness of one member is the sickness of all; one evil thought, allowed to take up its abode within our heart, destroys the entire harmony of the soul. when you see this seven therefore, let it recall my heart's wish that you may ever enjoy undisturbed bodily health, and long retain that loving gentleness which has made you the most virtuous, and therefore the healthiest of men. no thanks, my father, for even if i could restore to croesus all the treasures that he once possessed, i should still retrain his debtor. gyges, to you i give this lydian lyre; let its tones recall the giver to your memory. for you, zopyrus, i have a golden chain; i have witnessed that you are the most faithful of friends; and we egyptians are accustomed to place cords and bands in the hands of our lovely hathor, the goddess of love and friendship, as symbols of her captivating and enchaining attributes. as darius has studied the wisdom of egypt and the signs of the starry heavens, i beg him to take this circlet of gold, on which a skilful hand has traced the signs of the zodiac. [diodorus (i. 49.) tells, that in the tomb of osymandyas (palace of rameses ii. at thebes) there lay a circle of gold, one ell thick and 365 ells in circumference, containing a complete astronomical calendar. the circle of the zodiac from dendera, which is now in paris,--an astronomical ceiling painting, which was believed at the time of its discovery to be of great age, is not nearly so ancient as was supposed, dating only from the end of the ptolemaic dynasty. letronne was the first to estimate it correctly. see lepsius, chron. p.63. and lauth, 'les zodiaques de dendera'. munich 1865.] and lastly, to my dear brother-in-law bartja i commit the most precious jewel in my possession--this amulet of blue stone. my sister tachot hung it round my neck as i kissed her on the last night before we parted; she told me it could bring to its wearer the sweet bliss of love. and then, bartja, she wept! i do not know of whom she was thinking in that moment, but i hope i am acting according to her wishes in giving you her precious jewel. take it as a gift from tachot, and sometimes call to mind our games in the sais gardens." thus far she had been speaking greek, but now, addressing the attendants who remained standing in an attitude of deep reverence, she began in broken persian: "accept my thanks also. in babylon you shall receive a thousand gold staters." then turning to boges, she added: "let this sum be distributed among the attendants at latest by the day after to-morrow. take me to my carriage, croesus." the old king hastened to do her bidding, and as he was leading her thither she pressed his arm and whispered gently, "are you pleased with me, my father?" "i tell you, girl," the old man answered, "that no one but the king's mother can ever be your equal at this court, for a true and queenly pride reigns on your brow, and you have the power of using small means to effect great ends. believe me, the smallest gift, chosen and bestowed as you can choose and bestow, gives more pleasure to a noble mind than heaps of treasure merely cast down at his feet. the persians are accustomed to present and receive costly gifts. they understand already how to enrich their friends, but you can teach them to impart a joy with every gift. how beautiful you are to-day! are your cushions to your mind, or would you like a higher seat? but what is that? there are clouds of dust in the direction of the city. cambyses is surely coming to meet you! courage, my daughter. above all try to meet his gaze and respond to it. very few can bear the lightning glance of those eyes, but, if you can return it freely and fearlessly, you have conquered. fear nothing, my child, and may aphrodite adorn you with her most glorious beauty! my friends, we must start, i think the king himself is coming." nitetis sat erect in her splendid, gilded carriage; her hands were pressed on her throbbing heart. the clouds of dust came nearer and nearer, her eye caught the flash of weapons like lightning across a stormy sky. the clouds parted, she could see single figures for a moment, but soon lost them as the road wound behind some thickets and shrubs. suddenly the troop of horsemen appeared in full gallop only a hundred paces before her, and distinctly visible. her first impression was of a motley mass of steeds and men, glittering in purple, gold, silver and jewels. it consisted in reality of a troop of more than two hundred horsemen mounted on pure white nicaean horses, whose bridles and saddle-cloths were covered with bells and bosses, feathers, fringes, and embroidery. their leader rode a powerful coalblack charger, which even the strong will and hand of his rider could not always curb, though in the end his enormous strength proved him the man to tame even this fiery animal. this rider, beneath whose weight the powerful steed trembled and panted, wore a vesture of scarlet and white, thickly embroidered with eagles and falcons in silver. [curtius iii. 3. xenoph. cyrap, viii. 3. 7. aeschylus, persians 835. 836. the king's dress and ornaments were worth 12,000 talents, or l2,250,000 (estimate of 1880) according to plutarch, artaxerxes 24.] the lower part of his dress was purple, and his boots of yellow leather. he wore a golden girdle; in this hung a short dagger-like sword, the hilt and scabbard of which were thickly studded with jewels. the remaining ornaments of his dress resembled those we have described as worn by bartja, and the blue and white fillet of the achaemenidae was bound around the tiara, which surmounted a mass of thick curls, black as ebony. the lower part of his face was concealed by an immense beard. his features were pale and immovable, but the eyes, (more intensely black, if possible, than either hair or beard), glowed with a fire that was rather scorching than warming. a deep, fiery-red scar, given by the sword of a massagetan warrior, crossed his high forehead, arched nose and thin upper lip. his whole demeanor expressed great power and unbounded pride. nitetis' gaze was at once riveted by this man. she had never seen any one like him before, and he exercised a strange fascination over her. the expression of indomitable pride, worn by his features, seemed to her to represent a manly nature which the whole world, but she herself above all others, was created to serve. she felt afraid, and yet her true woman's heart longed to lean upon his strength as the vine upon the elm. she could not be quite sure whether she had thus pictured to herself the father of all evil, the fearful seth, or the great god ammon, the giver of light. the deepest pallor and the brightest color flitted by turns across her lovely face, like the light and shadow when clouds pass swiftly over a sunny noonday sky. she had quite forgotten the advice of her fatherly old friend, and yet, when cambyses brought his unruly, chafing steed to a stand by the side of her carriage, she gazed breathless into the fiery eyes of this man and felt at once that he was the king, though no one had told her so. the stern face of this ruler of half the known world relaxed, as nitetis, moved by an unaccountable impulse, continued to bear his piercing gaze. at last he waved his hand to her in token of welcome, and then rode on to her escort, who had alighted from their horses and were awaiting him, some having cast themselves down in the dust, and others, after the persian manner, standing in an attitude of deep reverence, their hands concealed in the wide sleeves of their robes. he sprang from his horse, an example which was followed at once by his entire suite. the attendants, with the speed of thought, spread a rich purple carpet on the highway, lest the foot of the king should come in contact with the dust of the earth, and then cambyses proceeded to salute his friends and relations by offering them his mouth to kiss. he shook croesus by the right hand, commanding him to remount and accompany him to the carriage, as interpreter between himself and nitetis. in an instant his highest office-bearers were at hand to lift the king once more on to his horse, and at a single nod from their lord, the train was again in motion. cambyses and croesus rode by the side of the carriage. "she is beautiful, and pleases me well," began the king. "interpret faithfully all her answers, for i understand only the persian, assyrian and median tongues." nitetis caught and understood these words. a feeling of intense joy stole into her heart, and before croesus could answer, she began softly in broken persian and blushing deeply: "blessed be the gods, who have caused me to find favor in thine eyes. i am not ignorant of the speech of my lord, for the noble croesus has instructed me in the persian language during our long journey. forgive, if my sentences be broken and imperfect; the time was short, and my capacity only that of a poor and simple maiden." [diodorus tells us that themistocles learnt the persian language during the journey to susa. we are not, therefore, requiring an impossibility of nitetis.] a smile passed over the usually serious mouth of cambyses. his vanity was flattered by nitetis' desire to win his approbation, and, accustomed as he was to see women grow up in idleness and ignorance, thinking of nothing but finery and intrigue, her persevering industry seemed to him both wonderful and praise worthy. so he answered with evident satisfaction: "i rejoice that we can speak without an interpreter. persevere in learning the beautiful language of my forefathers. croesus, who sits at my table, shall still remain your instructor." "your command confers happiness!" exclaimed the old man. "no more eager or thankful pupil could be found, than the daughter of amasis." "she justifies the ancient report of the wisdom of egypt," answered the king, "and i can believe that she will quickly understand and receive into her soul the religious instructions of our magi." nitetis dropped her earnest gaze. her fears were being realized. she would be compelled to serve strange gods. but her emotion passed unnoticed by cambyses, who went on speaking: "my mother kassandane will tell you the duties expected from my wives. tomorrow i myself will lead you to her. the words, which you innocently chanced to hear, i now repeat; you please me well. do nothing to alienate my affection. we will try to make our country agreeable, and, as your friend, i counsel you to treat boges whom i sent as my forerunner, in a kind and friendly manner. as head over the house of the women, you will have to conform to his will in many things." "though he be head over the house of the women," answered nitetis, "surely your wife is bound to obey no other earthly will than yours. your slightest look shall be for me a command; but remember that i am a king's daughter, that in my native land the weaker and the stronger sex have equal rights, and that the same pride reigns in my breast, which i see kindling in your eyes, my lord and king! my obedience to you, my husband and my ruler, shall be that of a slave, but i can never stoop to sue for the favor, or obey the orders of a venal servant, the most unmanly of his kind!" cambyses' wonder and satisfaction increased. he had never heard any woman speak in this way before, except his mother; the clever way in which nitetis acknowledged, and laid stress on, his right to command her every act, was very flattering to his self-love, and her pride found an echo in his own haughty disposition. he nodded approvingly and answered: "you have spoken well. a separate dwelling shall be appointed you. i, and no one else, will prescribe your rules of life and conduct. this day the pleasant palace on the hanging-gardens shall be prepared for your reception." "a thousand, thousand thanks," cried nitetis. "you little know the blessing you are bestowing in this permission. again and again i have begged your brother bartja to repeat the story of these gardens, and the love of the king who raised that verdant and blooming hill, pleased us better than all the other glories of your vast domains." "to-morrow," answered the king, "you can enter your new abode. but tell me now how my messengers pleased you and your countrymen." "how can you ask? who could know the noble croesus without loving him? who could fail to admire the beauty of the young heroes, your friends? they have all become dear to us, but your handsome brother bartja especially, won all hearts. the egyptians have no love for strangers, and yet the gaping crowd would burst into a murmur of admiration, when his beautiful face appeared among them." at these words the king's brow darkened; he struck his horse so sharply that the creature reared, and then turning it quickly round he gallopped to the front and soon reached the walls of babylon. ........................... though nitetis had been brought up among the huge temples and palaces of egypt, she was still astonished at the size and grandeur of this gigantic city. its walls seemed impregnable; they measured more than seventy-five feet --[fifty ells. the greek ell is equal to one foot and a half english.]-in height and their breadth was so great, that two chariots could conveniently drive abreast upon them. these mighty defences were crowned and strengthened by two hundred and fifty high towers, and even these would have been insufficient, if babylon had not been protected on one side by impassable morasses. the gigantic city lay on both shores of the euphrates. it was more than forty miles in circumference, and its walls enclosed buildings surpassing in size and grandeur even the pyramids and the temples of thebes. [these numbers and measurements are taken partly from herodotus, partly from diodorus, strabo and arrian. and even the ruins of this giant city, writes lavard, are such as to allow a very fair conclusion of its enormous size. aristotle (polit. iii. i.) says babylon's dimensions were not those of a city, but of a nation.] the mighty gates of brass, through which the royal train entered the city, had opened wide to receive this noble company. this entrance was defended on each side by a strong tower, and before each of these towers lay, as warder, a gigantic winged bull carved in stone, with a human head, bearded and solemn. nitetis gazed at these gates in astonishment, and then a joyful smile lighted up her face, as she looked up the long broad street so brightly and beautifully decorated to welcome her. the moment they beheld the king and the gilded carriage, the multitude burst into loud shouts of joy, but when bartja, the people's darling, came in sight, the shouts rose to thunder-peals and shrieks of delight, which seemed as if they would never end. it was long since the populace had seen cambyses, for in accordance with median customs the king seldom appeared in public. like the deity, he was to govern invisibly, and his occasional appearance before the nation to be looked upon as a festival and occasion of rejoicing. thus all babylon had come out to-day to look upon their awful ruler and to welcome their favorite bartja on his return. the windows were crowded with eager, curious women, who threw flowers before the approaching train, or poured sweet perfumes from above as they passed by. the pavement was thickly strewn with myrtle and palm branches, trees of different kinds had been placed before the housedoors, carpets and gay cloths hung from the windows, garlands of flowers were wreathed from house to house, fragrant odors of incense and sandalwood perfumed the air, and the way was lined with thousands of gaping babylonians dressed in white linen shirts, gaily-colored woollen petticoats and short cloaks, and carrying long staves headed with pomegranates, birds, or roses, of gold or silver. the streets through which the procession moved were broad and straight, the houses on either side, built of brick, tall and handsome. towering above every thing else, and visible from all points, rose the gigantic temple of bel. its colossal staircase, like a huge serpent, wound round and round the ever-diminishing series of stories composing the tower, until it reached the summit crowned by the sanctuary itself. [this temple of bel, which many consider may have been the tower of babel of genesis xi., is mentioned by herodotus i. 181. 182. 183. diodorus ii. 8. 9. (ktesias), strabo 738 and many other ancient writers. the people living in its neighborhood now call the ruins birs nimrod, the castle of nimrod. in the text we have reconstructed it as far as possible from the accounts of classical writers. the first story, which is still standing, in the midst of a heap of ruins, is 260 feet high. the walls surrounding the tower are said to be still clearly recognizable, and were 4000 feet long and 3000 broad. ] the procession approached the royal palace. this corresponded in its enormous size to the rest of the vast city. the walls surrounding it were covered with gaily-colored and glazed representations of strange figures made up of human beings, birds, quadrupeds and fishes; huntingscenes, battles and solemn processions. by the side of the river towards the north, rose the hanging-gardens, and the smaller palace lay toward the east on the other bank of the euphrates, connected with the larger one by the wondrous erection, a firm bridge of stone. our train passed on through the brazen gates of three of the walls surrounding the palace, and then halted. nitetis was lifted from her carriage by bearers; she was at last in her new home, and soon after in the apartments of the women's house assigned to her temporary use. cambyses, bartja and their friends already known to us, were still standing in the gaily-carpeted court of the palace, surrounded by at least a hundred splendid dignitaries in magnificent dresses, when suddenly a sound of loud female voices was heard, and a lovely persian girl richly dressed, her thick fair hair profusely wreathed with pearls, rushed into the court, pursued by several women older than herself. she ran up to the group of men; cambyses with a smile placed himself in her path, but the impetuous girl slipped adroitly past him, and in another moment was hanging on bartja's neck, crying and laughing by turns. the attendants in pursuit prostrated themselves at a respectful distance, but cambyses, on seeing the caresses lavished by the young girl on her newly-returned brother, cried: "for shame, atossa! remember that since you began to wear ear-rings you have ceased to be a child! [ear-rings were given to the persian girls in their fifteenth year, the marriageable age. vendid. farlard xiv. 66. at this age too boys as well as girls were obliged to wear the sacred cord, kuctl or kosti as a girdle; and were only allowed to unloose it in the night. the making of this cord is attended with many ceremonies, even among the persians of our own day. seventy-two threads must be employed, but black wool is prohibited.] it is right that you should rejoice to see your brother again, but a king's daughter must never forget what is due to her rank, even in her greatest joy. go back to your mother directly. i see your attendants waiting yonder. go and tell them, that as this is a day of rejoicing i will allow your heedless conduct to pass unpunished, but the next time you appear unbidden in these apartments, which none may enter without permission, i shall tell boges to keep you twelve days in confinement. remember this, thoughtless child, and tell our mother, bartja and i are coming to visit her. now give me a kiss. you will not? we shall see, capricious little one!" and so saying the king sprang towards his refractory little sister, and seizing both her hands in one of his own, bent back her charming head with the other and kissed her in spite of her resistance. she screamed from the violence of his grasp, and ran away crying to her attendants, who took her back to her apartments. when atossa had disappeared, bartja said; "you were too rough with the little one, cambyses. she screamed with pain!" once more the king's face clouded, but suppressing the harsh words which trembled on his lips, he only answered, turning towards the house: "let us come to our mother now; she begged me to bring you as soon as you arrived. the women, as usual, are all impatience. nitetis told me your rosy cheeks and fair curls had bewitched the egyptian women too. i would advise you to pray betimes to mithras for eternal youth, and for his protection against the wrinkles of age!" "do you mean to imply by these words that i have no virtues which could make an old age beautiful?" asked bartja. "i explain my words to no one. come." "but i ask for an opportunity of proving, that i am inferior to none of my nation in manly qualities." "for that matter, the shouts of the babylonians today will have been proof enough, that deeds are not wanted from you, in order to win their admiration." "cambyses!" "now come! we are just on the eve of a war with the massagetae; there you will have a good opportunity of proving what you are worth." a few minutes later, and bartja was in the arms of his blind mother. she had been waiting for her darling's arrival with a beating heart, and in the joy of hearing his voice once more, and of being able to lay her hands again on that beloved head, she forgot everything else--even her first-born son who stood by smiling bitterly, as he watched the rich and boundless stream of a mother's love flowing out to his younger brother. cambyses had been spoiled from his earliest infancy. every wish had been fulfilled, every look regarded as a command; and thus he grew up totally unable to brook contradiction, giving way to the most violent anger if any of his subjects (and he knew no human beings who were not his subjects) dared to oppose him. his father cyrus, conqueror of half the world--the man whose genius had raised persia from a small nation to the summit of earthly greatness--who had secured for himself the reverence and admiration of countless subjugated tribes--this great king was incapable of carrying out in his own small family-circle the system of education he had so successfully adopted towards entire countries. he could see nought else in cambyses but the future king of persia, and commanded his subjects to pay him an unquestioning obedience, entirely forgetful of the fact that he who is to govern well must begin by learning to obey. cambyses had been the first-born son of kassandane, the wife whom cyrus had loved and married young; three daughters followed, and at last, fifteen years later, bartja had come into the world. their eldest son had already outgrown his parents' caresses, when this little child appeared to engross all their care and love. his gentle, affectionate and clinging nature made him the darling of both father and mother: cambyses was treated with consideration by his parents, but their love was for bartja. cambyses was brave; he distinguished himself often in the field, but his disposition was haughty and imperious; men served him with fear and trembling, while bartja, ever sociable and sympathizing, converted all his companions into loving friends. as to the mass of the people, they feared the king, and trembled when he drew near, notwithstanding the lavish manner in which he showered rich gifts around him; but they loved bartja, and believed they saw in him the image of the great cyrus the "father of his people." cambyses knew well that all this love, so freely given to bartja, was not to be bought. he did not hate his younger brother, but he felt annoyed that a youth who had as yet done nothing to distinguish himself, should be honored and revered as if he were already a hero and public benefactor. whatever annoyed or displeased him he considered must be wrong; where he disapproved he did not spare his censures, and from his very childhood, cambyses' reproofs had been dreaded even by the mighty. the enthusiastic shouts of the populace, the overflowing love of his mother and sister, and above all, the warm encomiums expressed by nitetis, had excited a jealousy which his pride had never allowed hitherto. nitetis had taken his fancy in a remarkable degree. this daughter of a powerful monarch, like himself disdaining everything mean and inferior, had yet acknowledged him to be her superior, and to win his favor had not shrunk from the laborious task of mastering his native language. these qualities, added to her peculiar style of beauty, which excited his admiration from its rare novelty, half egyptian half greek, (her mother having been a greek), had not failed to make a deep impression on him. but she had been liberal in her praise of bartja; that was enough to disturb cambyses' mind and prepare the way for jealousy. as he and his brother were leaving the women's apartments, cambyses adopted a hasty resolution and exclaimed: "you asked me just now for an opportunity of proving your courage. i will not refuse. the tapuri have risen; i have sent troops to the frontier. go to rhagae, take the command and show what you are worth." "thanks, brother," cried bartja. "may i take my friends, darius, gyges and zopyrus with me?" "that favor shall be granted too. i hope you will all do your duty bravely and promptly, that you may be back in three months to join the main army in the expedition of revenge on the massagetae. it will take place in spring." "i will start to-morrow." "then farewell." "if auramazda should spare my life and i should return victorious, will you promise to grant me one favor?" "yes, i will." "now, then, i feel confident of victory, even if i should have to stand with a thousand men against ten thousand of the enemy." bartja's eyes sparkled, he was thinking of sappho. "well," answered his brother, "i shall be very glad if your actions bear out these glowing words. but stop; i have something more to say. you are now twenty years of age; you must marry. roxana, daughter of the noble hydarnes, is marriageable, and is said to be beautiful. her birth makes her a fitting bride for you." "oh! brother, do not speak of marriage; i . . ." "you must marry, for i have no children." "but you are still young; you will not remain childless. besides, i do not say that i will never marry. do not be angry, but just now, when i am to prove my courage, i would rather hear nothing about women." "well, then, you must marry roxana when you return from the north. but i should advise you to take her with you to the field. a persian generally fights better if he knows that, beside his most precious treasures, he has a beautiful woman in his tent to defend." "spare me this one command, my brother. i conjure thee, by the soul of our father, not to inflict on me a wife of whom i know nothing, and never wish to know. give roxana to zopyrus, who is so fond of women, or to darius or bessus, who are related to her father hydarnes. i cannot love her, and should be miserable . . ." cambyses interrupted him with a laugh, exclaiming: "did you learn these notions in egypt, where it is the custom to be contented with one wife? in truth, i have long repented having sent a boy like you abroad. i am not accustomed to bear contradiction, and shall listen to no excuses after the war. this once i will allow you to go to the field without a wife. i will not force you to do what, in your opinion, might endanger your valor. but it seems to me that you have other and more secret reasons for refusing my brotherly proposal. if that is the case, i am sorry for you. however, for the present, you can depart, but after the war i will hear no remonstrances. you know me." "perhaps after the war i may ask for the very thing, which i am refusing now--but never for roxana! it is just as unwise to try to make a man happy by force as it is wicked to compel him to be unhappy, and i thank you for granting my request." "don't try my powers of yielding too often!--how happy you look! i really believe you are in love with some one woman by whose side all the others have lost their charms." bartja blushed to his temples, and seizing his brother's hand, exclaimed: "ask no further now, accept my thanks once more, and farewell. may i bid nitetis farewell too, when i have taken leave of our mother and atossa?" cambyses bit his lip, looked searchingly into bartja's face, and finding that the boy grew uneasy under his glance, exclaimed abruptly and angrily: "your first business is to hasten to the tapuri. my wife needs your care no longer; she has other protectors now." so saying he turned his back on his brother and passed on into the great hall, blazing with gold, purple and jewels, where the chiefs of the army, satraps, judges, treasurers, secretaries, counsellors, eunuchs, door-keepers, introducers of strangers, chamberlains, keepers of the wardrobe, dressers, cupbearers, equerries, masters of the chase, physicians, eyes and ears of the king, ambassadors and plenipotentiaries of all descriptions--were in waiting for him. [the "eyes and ears" of the king may be compared to our police ministers. darius may have borrowed the name from egypt, where such titles as "the 2 eyes of the king for upper egypt, the 2 ears of the king for lower egypt" are to be found on the earlier monuments, for instance in the tomb of amen en, heb at abd el qurnah. and in herodotus ii. 114. the boy cyrus calls one of his playfellows "the eye of the king," herod. (i, 100.)] the king was preceded by heralds bearing staves, and followed by a host of fan, sedan and footstool-bearers, men carrying carpets, and secretaries who the moment he uttered a command, or even indicated a concession, a punishment or a reward, hastened to note it down and at once hand it over to the officials empowered to execute his decrees. in the middle of the brilliantly-lighted hall stood a gilded table, which looked as if it must give way beneath the mass of gold and silver vessels, plates, cups and bowls which were arranged with great order upon it. the king's private table, the service on which was of immense worth and beauty, was placed in an apartment opening out of the large hall, and separated from it by purple hangings. these concealed him from the gaze of the revellers, but did not prevent their every movement from being watched by his eye. it was an object of the highest ambition to be one of those who ate at the king's table, and even he to whom a portion was sent might deem himself a highly-favored man. as cambyses entered the hall, nearly every one present prostrated themselves before him; his relations alone, distinguished by the blue and white fillet on the tiara, contented themselves with a deferential obeisance. after the king had seated himself in his private apartment, the rest of the company took their places, and then a tremendous revel began. animals, roasted whole, were placed on the table, and, when hunger was appeased, several courses of the rarest delicacies followed, celebrated in later times even among the greeks under the name of "persian dessert." [herodotus (i. 133.) writes that the persians fancied the greeks' hunger was never satisfied, because nothing special was brought to the table at the end of the meal.] slaves then entered to remove the remains of the food. others brought in immense jugs of wine, the king left his own apartment, took his seat at the head of the table, numerous cup-bearers filled the golden drinkingcups in the most graceful manner, first tasting the wine to prove that it was free from poison, and soon one of those drinking-bouts had begun under the best auspices, at which, a century or two later, alexander the great, forgot not only moderation but even friendship itself. cambyses was unwontedly silent. the suspicion had entered his mind, that bartja loved nitetis. why had he, contrary to all custom, so decidedly refused to marry a noble and beautiful girl, when his brother's childlessness rendered marriage an evident and urgent duty for him? why had he wished to see the egyptian princess again before leaving babylon? and blushed as he expressed that wish? and why had she, almost without being asked, praised him so warmly? it is well that he is going, thought the king; at least he shall not rob me of her love. if he were not my brother i would send him to a place from whence none can return. after midnight he broke up the banquet. boges appeared to conduct him to the harem, which he was accustomed to visit at this hour, when sufficiently sober. "phaedime awaits you with impatience," said the eunuch. "let her wait!" was the king's answer. "have you given orders that the palace on the hanging-gardens shall be set in order?" "it will be ready for occupation to-morrow." "what apartments have been assigned to the egyptian princess?" "those formerly occupied by the second wife of your father cyrus, the deceased amytis." "that is well. nitetis is to be treated with the greatest respect, and to receive no commands even from yourself, but such as i give you for her." boges bowed low. "see that no one, not even croesus, has admission to her before my..... before i give further orders." "croesus was with her this evening." "what may have been his business with my wife?" "i do not know, for i do not understand the greek language, but i heard the name of bartja several times, and it seemed to me that the egyptian had received sorrowful intelligence. she was looking very sad when i came, after croesus had left, to inquire if she had any commands for me." "may ahriman blast thy tongue," muttered the king, and then turning his back on the eunuch he followed the torch-bearers and attendants, who were in waiting to disrobe him, to his own private apartments. at noon on the following clay, bartja, accompanied by his friends and a troop of attendants, started on horseback for the frontier. croesus went with the young warriors as far as the city gates, and as their last farewells and embraces were being exchanged, bartja whispered to his old friend: "if the messenger from egypt should have a letter for me in his bag, will you send it on?" "shall you be able to decipher the greek writing?" "gyges and love will help me!" "when i told nitetis of your departure she begged me to wish you farewell, and tell you not to forget egypt." "i am not likely to do that." "the gods take thee into their care, my son. be prudent, do not risk your life heedlessly, but remember that it is no longer only your own. exercise the gentleness of a father towards the rebels; they did not rise in mere self-will, but to gain their freedom, the most precious possession of mankind. remember, too, that to shew mercy is better than to shed blood; the sword killeth, but the favor of the ruler bringeth joy and happiness. conclude the war as speedily as possible, for war is a perversion of nature; in peace the sons outlive the fathers, but in war the fathers live to mourn for their slain sons. farewell, my young heroes, go forward and conquer!" chapter xiii. cambyses passed a sleepless night. the feeling of jealousy, so totally new to him, increased his desire to possess nitetis, but he dared not take her as his wife yet, as the persian law forbade the king to marry a foreign wife, until she had become familiar with the customs of iran and confessed herself a disciple of zoroaster. [zoroaster, really zarathustra or zerethoschtro, was one of the `greatest among founders of new religions and lawgivers. his name signified "golden star" according to anquetil du perron. but this interpretation is as doubtful, as the many others which have been attempted. an appropriate one is given in the essay by kern quoted below, from zara golden, and thwistra glittering; thus "the gold glittering one." it is uncertain whether he was born in bactria, media or persia, anquetil thinks in urmi, a town in aderbaijan. his father's name was porosehasp, his mother's dogdo, and his family boasted of royal descent. the time of his birth is very,--spiegel says "hopelessly"--dark. anquetil, and many other scholars would place it in the reign of darius, a view which has been proved to be incorrect by spiegel, duncker and v. schack in his introduction.] according to this law a whole year must pass before nitetis could become the wife of a persian monarch? but what was the law to cambyses? in his eyes the law was embodied in his own person, and in his opinion three months would be amply sufficient to initiate nitetis in the magian mysteries, after which process she could become his bride. to-day his other wives seemed hateful, even loathsome, to him. from cambyses' earliest youth his house had been carefully provided with women. beautiful girls from all parts of asia, black-eyed armenians, dazzlingly fair maidens from the caucasus, delicate girls from the shores of the ganges, luxurious babylonian women, golden-haired persians and the effeminate daughters of the median plains; indeed many of the noblest achaemenidae had given him their daughters in marriage. phaedime, the daughter of otanes, and niece of his own mother kassandane, had been cambyses' favorite wife hitherto, or at least the only one of whom it could be said that she was more to him than a purchased slave would have been. but even she, in his present sated and disgusted state of feeling, seemed vulgar and contemptible, especially when he thought of nitetis. the egyptian seemed formed of nobler, better stuff than they all. they were flattering, coaxing girls; nitetis was a queen. they humbled themselves in the dust at his feet; but when he thought of nitetis, he beheld her erect, standing before him, on the same proud level as himself. he determined that from henceforth she should not only occupy phaedime's place, but should be to him what kassandane had been to his father cyrus. she was the only one of his wives who could assist him by her knowledge and advice; the others were all like children, ignorant, and caring for nothing but dress and finery: living only for petty intrigues and useless trifles. this egyptian girl would be obliged to love him, for he would be her protector, her lord, her father and brother in this foreign land. "she must," he said to himself, and to this despot to wish for a thing and to possess it seemed one and the same. "bartja had better take care," he murmured, "or he shall know what fate awaits the man who dares to cross my path." nitetis too had passed a restless night. the common apartment of the women was next to her own, and the noise and singing there had not ceased until nearly midnight. she could often distinguish the shrill voice of boges joking and laughing with these women, who were under his charge. at last all was quiet in the wide palace halls and then her thoughts turned to her distant home and her poor sister tachot, longing for her and for the beautiful bartja, who, croesus had told her, was going to-morrow to the war and possibly to death. at last she fell asleep, overcome by the fatigue of the journey and dreaming of her future husband. she saw him on his black charger. the foaming animal shied at bartja who was lying in the road, threw his rider and dragged him into the nile, whose waves became blood-red. in her terror she screamed for help; her cries were echoed back from the pyramids in such loud and fearful tones that she awoke. but hark! what could that be? that wailing, shrill cry which she had heard in her dream,--she could hear it still. hastily drawing aside the shutters from one of the openings which served as windows, she looked out. a large and beautiful garden, laid out with fountains and shady avenues, lay before her, glittering with the early dew. [the persian gardens were celebrated throughout the old world, and seem to have been laid out much less stiffly than the egyptian. even the kings of persia did not consider horticulture beneath their notice, and the highest among the achaemenidae took an especial pleasure in laying out parks, called in persian paradises. their admiration for well-grown trees went so far, that xerxes, finding on his way to greece a singularly beautiful tree, hung ornaments of gold upon its branches. firdusi, the great persian epic poet, compares human beauty to the growth of the cypress, as the highest praise he can give. indeed some trees were worshipped by the persians; and as the tree of life in the hebrew and egyptian, so we find sacred trees in their paradise.] no sound was to be heard except the one which had alarmed her, and this too died away at last on the morning breeze. after a few minutes she heard cries and noise in the distance, then the great city awaking to its daily work, which soon settled down into a deep, dull murmur like the roaring of the sea. nitetis was by this time so thoroughly awakened from the effect of the fresh morning air, that she did not care to lie down again. she went once more to the window and perceived two figures coming out of the house. one she recognized as the eunuch boges; he was talking to a beautiful persian woman carelessly dressed. they approached her window. nitetis hid herself behind the half-opened shutter and listened, for she fancied she heard her own name. "the egyptian is still asleep." said boges. "she must be much fatigued by the journey. i see too that one of her windows is still firmly closed." "then tell me quickly," said the persian. "do you really think that this stranger's coming can injure me in any way?" "certainly, i do, my pretty one." "but what leads you to suppose this?" "she is only to obey the king's commands, not mine." "is that all?" "no, my treasure. i know the king. i can read his features as the magi read the sacred books." "then we must ruin her." "more easily said than done, my little bird." "leave me alone! you are insolent." "well, but nobody can see us, and you know you can do nothing without my help." "very well then, i don't care. but tell me quickly what we can do." "thanks, my sweet phaedime. well, for the present we must be patient and wait our time. that detestable hypocrite croesus seems to have established himself as protector of the egyptian; when he is away, we must set our snares." the speakers were by this time at such a distance, that nitetis could not understand what they said. in silent indignation she closed the shutter, and called her maidens to dress her. she knew her enemies now--she knew that a thousand dangers surrounded her, and yet she felt proud and happy, for was she not chosen to be the real wife of cambyses? her own worth seemed clearer to her than ever before, from a comparison with these miserable creatures, and a wonderful certainty of ultimate victory stole into her heart, for nitetis was a firm believer in the magic power of virtue. "what was that dreadful sound i heard so early?" she asked of her principal waiting-woman, who was arranging her hair. "do you mean the sounding brass, lady?" "scarcely two hours ago i was awakened by a strange and frightful sound." "that was the sounding brass, lady. it is used to awaken the young sons of the persian nobles, who are brought up at the gate of the king. you will soon become accustomed to it. we have long ceased even to hear it, and indeed on great festivals, when it is not sounded, we awake from the unaccustomed stillness. from the hanging-gardens you will be able to see how the boys are taken to bathe every morning, whatever the weather may be. the poor little ones are taken from their mothers when they are six years old, to be brought up with the other boys of their own rank under the king's eye." "are they to begin learning the luxurious manners of the court so early?" "oh no! the poor boys lead a terrible life. they are obliged to sleep on the hard ground, to rise before the sun. their food is bread and water, with very little meat, and they are never allowed to taste wine or vegetables. indeed at times they are deprived of food and drink for some days, simply to accustom them to privations. when the court is at ecbatana or pasargadae, and the weather is bitterly cold, they are sure to be taken out to bathe, and here in susa, the hotter the sun, the longer and more difficult the marches they are compelled to take." [the summer residences of the kings cf persia, where it is sometimes very cold. ecbatana lies at the foot of the high elburs (orontes) range of mountains in the neighborhood of the modern hamadan; pasargadae not far from rachmet in the highlands of iran] "and these boys, so simply and severely brought up, become in after life such luxurious men?" "yes, that is always the case. a meal that has been waited for is all the more relished when it comes. these boys see splendor and magnificence around them daily; they know how rich they are in reality, and yet have to suffer from hunger and privation. who can wonder, if, when at last they gain their liberty, they plunge into the pleasures of life with a tenfold eagerness? but on the other hand, in time of war, or when going to the chase, they never murmur at hunger or thirst, spring with a laugh into the mud regardless of their thin boots and purple trousers, and sleep as soundly on a rock as on their beds of delicate arabian wool. you must see the feats these boys perform, especially when the king is watching them! cambyses will certainly take you if you ask him." "i know those exercises already. in egypt the girls as well as the boys are kept to such gymnastic exercises. my limbs were trained to flexibility by running, postures, and games with hoops and balls. "how strange! here, we women grow up just as we please, and are taught nothing but a little spinning and weaving. is it true that most of the egyptian women can read and write?" "yes, nearly all." "by mithras, you must be a clever people! scarcely any of the persians, except the magi and the scribes, learn these difficult arts. the sons of the nobles are taught to speak the truth, to be courageous, obedient, and to reverence the gods; to hunt, ride, plant trees and discern between herbs; but whoever, like the noble darius, wishes to learn the art of writing, must apply to the magi. women are forbidden to turn their minds to such studies.--now your dress is complete. this string of pearls, which the king sent this morning, looks magnificent in your raven-black hair, but it is easy to see that you are not accustomed to the full silk trousers and high-heeled boots. if, however, you walk two or three times up and down the room you will surpass all the persian ladies even in your walk!" at this moment a knock was heard and boges entered. he had come to conduct nitetis to kassandane's apartments, where cambyses was waiting for her. the eunuch affected an abject humility, and poured forth a stream of flattering words, in which he likened the princess to the sun, the starry heavens, a pure fount of happiness, and a garden of roses. nitetis deigned him not a word in reply, but followed, with a beating heart, to the queen's apartment. in order to keep out the noonday sun and produce a salutary half-light for the blind queen's eyes, her windows were shaded by curtains of green indian silk. the floor was covered with a thick babylonian carpet, soft as moss under the foot. the walls were faced with a mosaic of ivory, tortoise-shell, gold, silver, malachite, lapis-lazuli, ebony and amber. the seats and couches were of gold covered with lions' skins, and a table of silver stood by the side of the blind queen. kassandane was seated in a costly arm-chair. she wore a robe of violet-blue, embroidered with silver, and over her snow-white hair lay a long veil of delicate lace, woven in egypt, the ends of which were wound round her neck and tied in a large bow beneath her chin. she was between sixty and seventy years old; her face, framed, as it were, into a picture by the lace veil, was exquisitely symmetrical in its form, intellectual, kind and benevolent in its expression. the blind eyes were closed, but those who gazed on her felt that, if open, they would shine with the gentle light of stars. even when sitting, her attitude and height showed a tall and stately figure. indeed her entire appearance was worthy the widow of the great and good cyrus. on a low seat at her feet, drawing long threads from a golden spindle, sat the queen's youngest child atossa, born to her late in life. cambyses was standing before her, and behind, hardly visible in the dim light, nebenchari, the egyptian oculist. as nitetis entered, cambyses came towards her and led her to his mother. the daughter of amasis fell on her knees before this venerable woman, and kissed her hand with real affection. "be welcome here!" exclaimed the blind queen, feeling her way to the young girl's head, on which she laid her hand, "i have heard much in your praise, and hope to gain in you a dear and loving daughter." nitetis kissed the gentle, delicate hand again, saying in a low voice: "o how i thank you for these words! will you, the wife of the great cyrus, permit me to call you mother? my tongue has been so long accustomed to this sweet word; and now after long weeks of silence, i tremble with joy at the thought that i may say 'my mother' once more! i will indeed try to deserve your love and kindness; and you--you will be to me all that your loving countenance seems to promise? advise and teach me; let me find a refuge at your feet, if sometimes the longing for home becomes too strong, and my poor heart too weak to bear its grief or joy alone. oh, be my mother! that one word includes all else!" the blind queen felt the warm tears fall on her hand; she pressed her lips kindly on the weeping girl's forehead, and answered: "i can understand your feelings. my apartments shall be always open to you, my heart ready to welcome you here. come when you will, and call me your mother with the same perfect confidence with which i, from my whole heart, name you my daughter. in a few months you will be my son's wife, and then the gods may grant you that gift, which, by implanting within you the feelings of a mother, will prevent you from feeling the need of one." "may ormuszd hear and give his blessing!" said cambyses. "i rejoice, mother, that my wife pleases you, and i know that when once she becomes familiar with our manners and customs she will be happy here. if nitetis pay due heed, our marriage can be celebrated in four months." "but the law--" began his mother. "i command--in four months, and should like to see him who dare raise an objection. farewell! nebenchari, use your best skill for the queen's eyes, and if my wife permit, you, as her countryman, may visit her to-morrow. farewell! bartja sends his parting greetings. he is on the road to the tapuri." atossa wiped away a tear in silence, but kassandane answered: "you would have done well to allow the boy to remain here a few months longer. your commander, megabyzus, could have subdued that small nation alone." "of that i have no doubt," replied the king, "but bartja desired an opportunity of distinguishing himself in the field; and for that reason i sent him." "would he not gladly have waited until the war with the massageta; where more glory might be gained?" asked the blind woman. "yes," said atossa, "and if he should fall in this war, you will have deprived him of the power of fulfilling his most sacred duty, of avenging the soul of our father!" "be silent!" cried cambyses in an overbearing tone, "or i shall have to teach you what is becoming in women and children. bartja is on far too good terms with fortune to fall in the war. he will live, i hope, to deserve the love which is now so freely flung into his lap like an alms." "how canst thou speak thus?" cried kassandane. "in what manly virtue is bartja wanting? is it his fault, that he has had no such opportunity of distinguishing himself in the field as thou hast had? you are the king and i am bound to respect your commands, but i blame my son for depriving his blind mother of the greatest joy left to her in her old age. bartja would have gladly remained here until the massagetan war, if your selfwill had not determined otherwise." "and what i will is good!" exclaimed cambyses interrupting his mother, and pale with anger, "i desire that this subject be not mentioned again." so saying, he left the room abruptly and went into the reception-hall, followed by the immense retinue which never quitted him, whithersoever he might direct his steps. an hour passed, and still nitetis and the lovely atossa were sitting side by side, at the feet of the queen. the persian women listened eagerly to all their new friend could tell them about egypt and its wonders. "oh! how i should like to visit your home!" exclaimed atossa. "it must be quite, quite different from persia and everything else that i have seen yet. the fruitful shores of your great river, larger even than the euphrates, the temples with their painted columns, those huge artificial mountains, the pyramids, where the ancient kings be buried--it must all be wonderfully beautiful. but what pleases me best of all is your description of the entertainments, where men and women converse together as they like. the only meals we are allowed to take in the society of men are on new year's day and the king's birthday, and then we are forbidden to speak; indeed it is not thought right for us even to raise our eyes. how different it is with you! by mithras! mother, i should like to be an egyptian, for we poor creatures are in reality nothing but miserable slaves; and yet i feel that the great cyrus was my father too, and that i am worth quite as much as most men. do i not speak the truth? can i not obey as well as command? have i not the same thirst and longing for glory? could not i learn to ride, to string a bow, to fight and swim, if i were taught and inured to such exercises?" the girl had sprung from her seat while speaking, her eyes flashed and she swung her spindle in the air, quite unconscious that in so doing she was breaking the thread and entangling the flax. "remember what is fitting," reminded kassandane. "a woman must submit with humility to her quiet destiny, and not aspire to imitate the deeds of men." "but there are women who lead the same lives as men," cried atossa. "there are the amazons who live on the shores of the thermodon in themiscyra, and at comana on the iris; they have waged great wars, and even to this day wear men's armor." "who told you this?" "my old nurse, stephanion, whom my father brought a captive from sinope to pasargadae." "but i can teach you better," said nitetis. "it is true that in themiscyra and comana there are a number of women who wear soldier's armor; but they are only priestesses, and clothe themselves like the warlike goddess they serve, in order to present to the worshippers a manifestation of the divinity in human form. croesus says that an army of amazons has never existed, but that the greeks, (always ready and able to turn anything into a beautiful myth), having seen these priestesses, at once transformed the armed virgins dedicated to the goddess into a nation of fighting women." "then they are liars!" exclaimed the disappointed girl. "it is true, that the greeks have not the same reverence for truth as you have," answered nitetis, "but they do not call the men who invent these beautiful stories liars; they are called poets." "just as it is with ourselves," said kassandane. "the poets, who sing the praises of my husband, have altered and adorned his early life in a marvellous manner; yet no one calls them liars. but tell me, my daughter, is it true that these greeks are more beautiful than other men, and understand art better even than the egyptians?" "on that subject i should not venture to pronounce a judgment. there is such a great difference between the greek and egyptian works of art. when i went into our own gigantic temples to pray, i always felt as if i must prostrate myself in the dust before the greatness of the gods, and entreat them not to crush so insignificant a worm; but in the temple of hera at samos, i could only raise my hands to heaven in joyful thanksgiving, that the gods had made the earth so beautiful. in egypt i always believed as i had been taught: 'life is asleep; we shall not awake to our true existence in the kingdom of osiris till the hour of death;' but in greece i thought: 'i am born to live and to enjoy this cheerful, bright and blooming world.'" "ah! tell us something more about greece," cried atossa; "but first nebenchari must put a fresh bandage on my mother's eyes." the oculist, a tall, grave man in the white robes of an egyptian priest, came forward to perform the necessary operation, and after being kindly greeted by nitetis, withdrew once more silently into the background. at the same time a eunuch entered to enquire whether croesus might be allowed to pay his respectful homage to the king's mother. the aged king soon appeared, and was welcomed as the old and tried friend of the persian royal family. atossa, with her usual impetuosity, fell on the neck of the friend she had so sorely missed during his absence; the queen gave him her hand, and nitetis met him like a loving daughter. "i thank the gods, that i am permitted to see you again," said croesus. "the young can look at life as a possession, as a thing understood and sure, but at my age every year must be accepted as an undeserved gift from the gods, for which a man must be thankful." "i could envy you for this happy view of life," sighed kassandane. "my years are fewer than yours, and yet every new day seems to me a punishment sent by the immortals." "can i be listening to the wife of the great cyrus?" asked croesus. "how long is it since courage and confidence left that brave heart? i tell you, you will recover sight, and once more thank the gods for a good old age. the man who recovers, after a serious illness, values health a hundred-fold more than before; and he who regains sight after blindness, must be an especial favorite of the gods. imagine to yourself the delight of that first moment when your eyes behold once more the bright shining of the sun, the faces of your loved ones, the beauty of all created things, and tell me, would not that outweigh even a whole life of blindness and dark night? in the day of healing, even if that come in old age, a new life will begin and i shall hear you confess that my friend solon was right." "in what respect?" asked atossa. "in wishing that mimnermos, the colophonian poet, would correct the poem in which he has assigned sixty years as the limit of a happy life, and would change the sixty into eighty." "oh no!" exclaimed kassandane. "even were mithras to restore my sight, such a long life would be dreadful. without my husband i seem to myself like a wanderer in the desert, aimless and without a guide." "are your children then nothing to you, and this kingdom, of which you have watched the rise and growth?" "no indeed! but my children need me no longer, and the ruler of this kingdom is too proud to listen to a woman's advice." on hearing these words atossa and nitetis seized each one of the queen's hands, and nitetis cried: "you ought to desire a long life for our sakes. what should we be without your help and protection?" kassandane smiled again, murmuring in a scarcely audible voice: "you are right, my children, you will stand in need of your mother." "now you are speaking once more like the wife of the great cyrus," cried croesus, kissing the robe of the blind woman. "your presence will indeed be needed, who can say how soon? cambyses is like hard steel; sparks fly wherever he strikes. you can hinder these sparks from kindling a destroying fire among your loved ones, and this should be your duty. you alone can dare to admonish the king in the violence of his passion. he regards you as his equal, and, while despising the opinion of others, feels wounded by his mother's disapproval. is it not then your duty to abide patiently as mediator between the king, the kingdom and your loved ones, and so, by your own timely reproofs, to humble the pride of your son, that he may be spared that deeper humiliation which, if not thus averted, the gods will surely inflict." "you are right," answered the blind woman, "but i feel only too well that my influence over him is but small. he has been so much accustomed to have his own will, that he will follow no advice, even if it come from his mother's lips." "but he must at least hear it," answered croesus, "and that is much, for even if he refuse to obey, your counsels will, like divine voices, continue to make themselves heard within him, and will keep him back from many a sinful act. i will remain your ally in this matter; for, as cambyses' dying father appointed me the counsellor of his son in word and deed, i venture occasionally a bold word to arrest his excesses. ours is the only blame from which he shrinks: we alone can dare to speak our opinion to him. let us courageously do our duty in this our office: you, moved by love to persia and your son, and i by thankfulness to that great man to whom i owe life and freedom, and whose son cambyses is. i know that you bemoan the manner in which he has been brought up; but such late repentance must be avoided like poison. for the errors of the wise the remedy is reparation, not regret; regret consumes the heart, but the effort to repair an error causes it to throb with a noble pride." "in egypt," said nitetis, "regret is numbered among the forty-two deadly sins. one of our principal commandments is, 'thou shalt not consume thine heart.'" [in the ritual of the dead (indeed in almost every papyrus of the dead) we meet with a representation of the soul, whose heart is being weighed and judged. the speech made by the soul is called the negative justification, in which she assures the 42 judges of the dead, that she has not committed the 42 deadly sins which she enumerates. this justification is doubly interesting because it contains nearly the entire moral law of moses, which last, apart from all national peculiarities and habits of mind, seems to contain the quintessence of human morality--and this we find ready paragraphed in our negative justification. todtenbuch ed. lepsius. 125. we cannot discuss this question philosophically here, but the law of pythagoras, who borrowed so much from egypt, and the contents of which are the same, speaks for our view. it is similar in form to the egyptian.] "there you remind me," said croesus "that i have undertaken to arrange for your instruction in the persian customs, religion and language. i had intended to withdraw to barene, the town which i received as a gift from cyrus, and there, in that most lovely mountain valley, to take my rest; but for your sake and for the king's, i will remain here and continue to give you instruction in the persian tongue. kassandane herself will initiate you in the customs peculiar to women at the persian court, and oropastes, the high-priest, has been ordered by the king to make you acquainted with the religion of iran. he will be your spiritual, and i your secular guardian." at these words nitetis, who had been smiling happily, cast down her eyes and asked in a low voice: "am i to become unfaithful to the gods of my fathers, who have never failed to hear my prayers? can i, ought i to forget them?" "yes," said kassandane decidedly, "thou canst, and it is thy bounden duty, for a wife ought to have no friends but those her husband calls such. the gods are a man's earliest, mightiest and most faithful friends, and it therefore becomes thy duty, as a wife, to honor them, and to close thine heart against strange gods and superstitions, as thou wouldst close it against strange lovers." "and," added croesus, "we will not rob you of your deities; we will only give them to you under other names. as truth remains eternally the same, whether called 'maa', as by the egyptians, or 'aletheia' as by the greeks, so the essence of the deity continues unchanged in all places and times. listen, my daughter: i myself, while still king of lydia, often sacrificed in sincere devotion to the apollo of the greeks, without a fear that in so doing i should offend the lydian sun-god sandon; the ionians pay their worship to the asiatic cybele, and, now that i have become a persian, i raise my hands adoringly to mithras, ormuzd and the lovely anahita. pythagoras too, whose teaching is not new to you, worships one god only, whom he calls apollo; because, like the greek sungod, he is the source of light and of those harmonies which pythagoras holds to be higher than all else. and lastly, xenophanes of colophon laughs at the many and divers gods of homer and sets one single deity on high--the ceaselessly creative might of nature, whose essence consists of thought, reason and eternity. [a celebrated freethinker, who indulged in bold and independent speculations, and suffered much persecution for his ridicule of the homeric deities. he flourished at the time of our history and lived to a great age, far on into the fifth century. we have quoted some fragments of his writings above. he committed his speculations also to verse.] "in this power everything has its rise, and it alone remains unchanged, while all created matter must be continually renewed and perfected. the ardent longing for some being above us, on whom we can lean when our own powers fail,--the wonderful instinct which desires a faithful friend to whom we can tell every joy and sorrow without fear of disclosure, the thankfulness with which we behold this beautiful world and all the rich blessings we have received--these are the feelings which we call piety-devotion. "these you must hold fast; remembering, however, at the same time, that the world is ruled neither by the egyptian, the persian, nor the greek divinities apart from each other, but that all these are one; and that one indivisible deity, how different soever may be the names and characters under which he is represented, guides the fate of men and nations." the two persian women listened to the old man in amazement. their unpractised powers were unable to follow the course of his thoughts. nitetis, however, had understood him thoroughly, and answered: "my mother ladice was the pupil of pythagoras, and has told me something like this already; but the egyptian priests consider such views to be sacrilegious, and call their originators despisers of the gods. so i tried to repress such thoughts; but now i will resist them no longer. what the good and wise croesus believes cannot possibly be evil or impious! let oropastes come! i am ready to listen to his teaching. the god of thebes, our ammon, shall be transformed into ormuzd,--isis or hathor, into anahita, and those among our gods for whom i can find no likeness in the persian religion, i shall designate by the name of 'the deity.'" croesus smiled. he had fancied, knowing how obstinately the egyptians clung to all they had received from tradition and education, that it would have been more difficult for nitetis to give up the gods of her native land. he had forgotten that her mother was a greek, and that the daughters of amasis had studied the doctrines of pythagoras. neither was he aware how ardently nitetis longed to please her proud lord and master. even amasis, who so revered the samian philosopher, who had so often yielded to hellenic influence, and who with good reason might be called a free-thinking egyptian, would sooner have exchanged life for death, than his multiform gods for the one idea "deity." "you are a teachable pupil," said croesus, laying his hand on her head, "and as a reward, you shall be allowed either to visit kassandane, or to receive atossa in the hanging-gardens, every morning, and every afternoon until sunset." this joyful news was received with loud rejoicings by atossa, and with a grateful smile by the egyptian girl. "and lastly," said croesus, "i have brought some balls and hoops with me from sais, that you may be able to amuse yourselves in egyptian fashion." "balls?" asked atossa in amazement; "what can we do with the heavy wooden things?" "that need not trouble you," answered croesus, laughing. "the balls i speak of are pretty little things made of the skins of fish filled with air, or of leather. a child of two years old can throw these, but you would find it no easy matter even to lift one of those wooden balls with which the persian boys play. are you content with me, nitetis?" [in persia games with balls are still reckoned among the amusements of the men. one player drives a wooden hall to the other, as in the english game of cricket. chardin (voyage en perse. iii. p. 226.) saw the game played by 300 players.] "how can i thank you enough, my father?" "and now listen to my plan for the division of your time. in the morning you will visit kassandane, chat with atossa, and listen to the teaching of your noble mother." here the blind woman bent her head in approval. "towards noon i shall come to teach you, and we can talk sometimes about egypt and your loved ones there, but always in persian. you would like this, would you not?" nitetis smiled. "every second day, oropastes will be in attendance to initiate you in the persian religion." "i will take the greatest pains to comprehend him quickly." "in the afternoon you can be with atossa as long as you like. does that please you too?" "o croesus!" cried the young girl and kissed the old man's hand. etext editor's bookmarks: a first impression is often a final one assigned sixty years as the limit of a happy life at my age every year must be accepted as an undeserved gift cambyses had been spoiled from his earliest infancy devoid of occupation, envy easily becomes hatred easy to understand what we like to hear eros mocks all human efforts to resist or confine him eyes are much more eloquent than all the tongues in the world for the errors of the wise the remedy is reparation, not regret greeks have not the same reverence for truth he who is to govern well must begin by learning to obey in war the fathers live to mourn for their slain sons inn, was to be found about every eighteen miles lovers are the most unteachable of pupils the beautiful past is all he has to live upon the gods cast envious glances at the happiness of mortals unwise to try to make a man happy by force war is a perversion of nature ye play with eternity as if it were but a passing moment zeus pays no heed to lovers' oaths this ebook was produced by david widger <widger@cecomet.net> [note: there is a short list of bookmarks, or pointers, at the end of the file for those who may wish to sample the author's ideas before making an entire meal of them. d.w.] barbara blomberg by georg ebers volume 7. chapter i. through the storm, which lashed her face with whirling clouds of dust and drops of rain, barbara reached the little prebrunn castle. the marquise had not yet left her litter. the wind had extinguished two of the torches. one bearer walked in front of barbara with his, and the gale blew the smoking flame aside. but, ere she had reached the gate, a man who had been concealed behind the old elm by the path stepped forward to meet her. she started back and, as he called her by name, she recognised the young wittenberg theologian, erasmus eckhart. sincerely indignant, she ordered him to go away at once, but her first words were interrupted by the shrill voice of the marquise, who had now left her litter, and with loud shrieks ordered the steward to seize the burglar. erasmus, however, trusted to his strength and nimbleness and, instead of promptly taking flight, entreated barbara to listen to him a moment. not until, far from allowing herself to be softened, she, too, threatened him, did he attempt to escape, but both litters were in his way, and when he had successfully passed around them the gardener, suddenly emerging from the darkness, seized him. but the sturdy young fellow knew how to defend his liberty, and had already released himself from his assailant when other servants grasped him. above the roar of the storm now rose the shrieks of the marquise, the shouts of "stop thief!" from the men, and erasmus's protestations that he was no robber, coupled with an appeal to jungfrau blomberg, who knew him. barbara now stated that he was the son of a respectable family, and had by no means come here to steal the property of others; but the marquise, though she probably correctly interpreted the handsome young fellow's late visit, vehemently insisted upon his arrest. she treated barbara's remonstrance with bitter contempt; and when cassian, the almoner's servant, appeared and declared that he had already caught this rascal more than once strolling in a suspicious manner near the castle, and that he himself was here so late only because his beloved bride, in her mistress's absence, was afraid of the robber and his companions, barbara's entreaties and commands were disregarded, and erasmus's hands were bound. by degrees the noise drew most of the inmates of the castle out of doors, and among them frau lerch. lastly, several halberdiers, who were coming from the lindenplatz and had heard the screams in the garden, appeared, chained the prisoner, and took him to the prebrunn jail. but scarcely had erasmus been led away when the priests of the household also came out and asked what had happened. in doing this barbara's caution in not calling erasmus by name proved to have been futile, for cassian had recognised him, and told the ecclesiastics what he knew. the chaplain then asserted that, as the property of the prince abbot of berchtesgaden, the house and garden were under ecclesiastical jurisdiction, and committed the further disposal of the burglar's fate to the dominican whom the almoner had placed there. for the present he might remain in secular custody. early the following morning he must be brought before the spanish dominicans who had come with the emperor, and from whom greater severity might be expected than from the ratisbon brotherhood, by whom monastic discipline had been greatly relaxed. meanwhile the wind had subsided, and the storm had burst with thunder, lightning, and torrents of rain. priests and laymen retreated into the house, and so did barbara and the marquise. the latter had exposed herself to the tempest only long enough to emphasize the necessity of delivering the heretical night-bird to the spanish dominicans very early the next morning, and to show barbara that she did not overlook the significance of the incidents under the lindens. with a disagreeable blending of tenderness and malice, she congratulated the young girl on the applause she had received as a dancer, the special favour which she had enjoyed from the duke of saxony, and the arrest of the dangerous burglar, which would also be a gratification to his majesty. with these words the old aristocrat, coughing slightly, tripped up the stairs; but barbara, without vouchsafing an answer to this speech, whose purpose she clearly understood, turned her back upon her and went to her own room. she had desired no gift in return when, to save this contemptible woman's son and his child, she sacrificed her lover's precious memento; but the base reward for the kind deed added a burning sense of pain to the other sorrows which the day had brought. what a shameful crime was ingratitude! none could be equally hateful to eternal justice, for--she now learned it by her own experience--ingratitude repaid kindness with evil instead of with good, and paralyzed the disappointed benefactor's will to perform another generous deed. when she entered her sleeping-room the courage which she had summoned during the walk, and the hope to which she had yielded, appeared to be scattered and blown away as if by a gust of wind. besides, she could not conceal from herself that she had drawn the nails from the planks of her wrecked ship of life with her own hand. did it not seem as if she had intentionally done precisely what she ought most studiously to have left undone? her sale of the star had been only an unfortunate act of weakness, but the dance, the luckless dance! not once only, several times charles had stated plainly enough how unpleasant it was to him even to hear the amusement mentioned. she had behaved as if she desired to forfeit his favour. and why, in heaven's name, why? to arouse his jealousy? fool that she was! this plant took root only in a heart filled with love and his? because she perceived that his love was dying, she had awakened this fatal passion. was it not as if she had expected to make a water-lily blossom in the sands of the desert? true, still another motive had urged her to this mad act. she knew not what name to give it, yet it was only too possible that, in spite of her recent experiences, it might overpower her again on the morrow. surprised at herself, she struck her brow with her hand, and when frau lerch, who was just combing her wet hair, perceived it, she sobbed aloud, exclaiming: "poor, poor young gentleman, and the hiltners, who love him as if he were their own son! such a terrible misfortune! old fool that i am! the first time he asked admittance to show you the tablature, and you did not want to receive him, i persuaded you to do so. then he fared like all the others whose heads you have turned with your singing. holy virgin! if the hiltners learn that you and i let him be bound without making any real protest. it will fall heaviest upon me; you can believe that, for fran hiltner and jungfrau martina, since the young girl has gone to dances, have been among my best customers. now they will say: frau lerch, who used to be a good little woman, left the young fellow in the lurch when his life was at stake, for they will take him to the spanish dominicans. they belong, to the holy inquisition, and think no more of burning people at the stake than we do of a few days in prison." here barbara interrupted her with the remark that erasmus could be convicted of no crime, and the holy inquisition had no authority in ratisbon. but frau lerch knew better. that was all very well during the emperor's absence, but now that his majesty resided in the city the case was different. erasmus had been arrested on ecclesiastical ground, the chaplain had ordered him to be delivered to the spaniards early the next morning and, ere the syndic could interpose, the rope would already be twisted for him, for with these gentlemen the executioner stood close beside the judge. besides, she had heard of a pamphlet against the pope, which the young theologian had had published, that had aroused great indignation among the priesthood. if he fell into the hands of the dominicans, he would be lost, as surely as she hoped to be saved. if he were only in the custody of the city, of course a better result might be hoped. here she stopped with a shriek, dropping the comb, for the thundercloud was now directly over the city, and a loud peal, following close upon the flash of lightning, shook the house; but barbara scarcely heeded the dazzling glare and the rattling panes. she had risen with a face as white as death. she knew what severe sentences could be pronounced by the council of the inquisition, and the thought that the keenest suffering should be inflicted upon the hiltners through her, to whom they had showed so much kindness, seemed unendurable. besides, what she had just said to herself concerning ingratitude returned to her mind. and then, inquisition and the rack were two ideas which could scarcely be separated from one another. what might not be extorted from the accused by the torture! in any case, the almoner's suspicion would obtain fresh nourishment, and her lover had told her more than once--what a special dislike he felt for women who, with their slender intelligence, undertook to set themselves above the eternal truths of the holy church. and the jealousy which, fool that she was, she had desired to arouse in her lover, what abundant nourishment it would derive from the events which had occurred on her return from the festival! but even these grave fears were overshadowed by the thought of dr. hiltner's wife and daughter. with what fair-mindedness the former in the convivium had made her cause her own, how touching had been martina's effort to approach her, and how ill that very day she had requited their loyal affection! erasmus was as dear as a beloved son to these good women, and frau lerch's reproach that her intercession for him was but lukewarm had not been wholly groundless. the next day these friends who, notwithstanding the difference in their religious belief, had treated her more kindly than any one in ratisbon, would hear this and condemn her. that should not be! she would not suffer them to think of her as she did of the shameless old woman whose footsteps she still heard over her head. she must not remain idly here, and what her impetuous nature so passionately demanded must be carried into execution, though reason and the loud uproar of the raging storm opposed it. fran lerch had just finished arranging her hair and handed her her nightcoif, when she started up and, with the obstinate positiveness characteristic of her, declared that she was going at once to the hiltners to inform the syndic of what had happened here. erasmus was still in the hands of the town guards, and perhaps it would be possible for the former to withdraw the prisoner from ecclesiastical jurisdiction. frau lerch clasped her hands in horror, exclaiming: "holy virgin, child! have you gone crazy? go out in this weather? whoever is not killed by lightning will drown in the puddles." but with that violent peal of thunder the storm had reached its height, and when the next flash of lightning came the thunder did not follow until some time after, though the rain continued to beat as heavily against the panes. yet even had the tempest continued to rage with full fury, barbara would not have been dissuaded from the resolution which she had once formed. true, her attempt to persuade frau lerch to accompany her remained futile. her frail body, the dressmaker protested, was not able to undertake such a walk through the storm. if she yielded, it would be her death. it would kill barbara, also, and this crazy venture would be too dearly paid for at the cost of two human lives. barbara's angry remark that if she would not run the risk of getting wet for the sake of compassion, she might on account of the hiltners' good custom, finally made the excited woman burst into piteous crying; yet in the midst of it she brought barbara's dress and old thick cloak and, as she put them on the girl, exclaimed, "but i tell you, child, you'll turn back again when you get halfway there, and all you bring home will be a bad illness." "whoever can execute the gagliarde to dance herself into misery," replied barbara impatiently, "will not find it difficult to take a walk through the rain to save some one else from misfortune. the cloak!" "she will go," sobbed frau lerch. "the servants must still obey you. at least order the litter. this crazy night pilgrimage can not remain concealed." "then let people talk about it," replied barbara firmly and, after having the cloak clasped and the hood drawn over her head, she went out. frau lerch, who had the key, opened the door for her amid loud lamentations and muttered curses; but when the girl had vanished in the darkness, she turned back, saying fiercely through her set teeth: "rush on to ruin, you headstrong creature! if i see aright, the magnificence here is already tottering. go and get wet! i've made my profit, and the two unfinished gowns can be added to the account. the lord is my witness that i meant well. but will she ever do what sensible people advise? always running her head against the wall. whoever will not hear, must feel." she hastened back into the house as she spoke to escape the pouring rain, but barbara paid little heed to the wet, and waded on through the mire of the road. the force of the storm was broken, the wind had subsided, distant flashes of lightning still illumined the northern horizon, and the night air was stiflingly sultry. no one appeared in the road, and yet some belated pedestrian might run against her at any moment, for the dense darkness shrouded even the nearest objects. but she knew the way, and had determined to follow the danube and go along the woodlands to the tanner's pit, whence the hiltner house was easily reached. in this way she could pass around the gate, which otherwise she would have been obliged to have opened. but ere gaining the river she was to learn that she had undertaken a more difficult task than she expected. her father had never allowed her to go out after dark, unaccompanied, even in the neighbourhood, and the terrors of night show their most hideous faces to those who are burdened by anxious cares. several times she sank so deep into the mud that her shoe stuck fast in it, and she was obliged to force it on again with much difficulty. as she walked on and a strange, noise reached her from the woodyard on her left, when she constantly imagined that she heard another step following hers like an audible shadow, when drunken raftsmen came toward her, hoarsely singing an obscene song, she pressed against a fence in order not to be seen by the dissolute fellows. but now a light came wavering toward her, looking like a shining bird flying slowly, or a hell-hound, with glowing eyes, and at the sight it seemed to her impossible to wander on all alone. but the mysterious light proved to be only a lantern in the hand of an old woman who had been to fetch a doctor, so she summoned up fresh courage, though she told herself that here near the lumber yards she might easily encounter raftsmen and guards watching the logs and planks piled on the banks of the river, fishermen, and sailors. already she heard the rushing of the swollen danube, and horrible tales returned to her memory of hapless girls who had flung themselves into the waves here to put an end to lives clouded by disgrace and fear. then a shiver ran through her, and she asked herself what her father would say if he could see her wading alone through the water. perhaps the fatigues of the long journey had thrown him upon a sick-bed; perhaps he had even--at the fear she felt as though her heart would stop beating --succumbed to them. then he knew how matters stood with her, the sin she had committed, and the shame she had brought upon him that she might enjoy undisturbed a happiness which was already changing into bitter sorrow. meanwhile it seemed as if she was gazing into his rugged, soldierly face, reddish-brown, with rolling eyes, as it looked when disfigured by anger, and she raised her hands as if to hold him back; but only for a few minutes, for she perceived that her excited imagination was terrifying her with a delusion. drawing a long breath, she pushed her dank hair back into her hood and pressed her hand upon her heart. then she was calm a while, but a new terror set it throbbing again. close beside her--this time at her right --the loud laughter of men's harsh voices echoed through the darkness. barbara involuntarily stopped, and when she collected her thoughts and looked around her, her features, distorted by anxiety and terror, smoothed again, and she instantly knocked with her little clinched hand upon the door of the hut from whose open windows the laughter had issued. it stood close to the river bank, and the tiny dwelling belonged to the prior of berchtesgaden's fisherman and boatman, who kept the distinguished prelate's gondolas and boats in order, and acted as rower to the occupants of the little prebrunn castle. she had often met this man when he brought fish for the kitchen, and he had gone with the boats in the water excursions which she had sometimes taken with gombert and appenzelder or with malfalconnet and several pages. she had treated him kindly, and made him generous gifts. all was still in the house after her knock, but almost instantly the deep voice of the fisherman valentin, who had thrust his bearded face and red head out of the window, asked who was there. the answer received an astonished "can it be!" but as soon as she informed him that she needed a companion, he shouted something to the others, put on his fisherman's cap, stepped to barbara's side, and led the way with a lantern which stood lighted on the table. the road was so softened that, in spite of the light which fell on the ground, it was impossible to avoid the pools and muddy places. but the girl had become accustomed to the wet and the wading. besides, the presence of her companion relieved her from the terrors with which the darkness and the solitude had tortured her. instead of watching for new dangers, she listened while valentin explained how it happened that she found him still awake. he had helped hang the banners and lamps tinder the lindens, and when the storm arose he assisted in removing the best pieces. in return a jug of wine, with some bread and sausages, had been given to him, and he had just begun to enjoy them with two comrades. the hiltner house was soon reached. nothing had troubled barbara during the nocturnal walk since the fisherman had accompanied her. her heart was lighter as she rapped with the knocker on the syndic's door; but, although she repeated the summons several times, not a sound was heard in the silent house. valentin had seen the hiltners' two men-servants with the litters under the lindens, and barbara thought that perhaps the maids might have gone to the scene of the festival to carry headkerchiefs and cloaks to the ladies before the outbreak of the storm. that the deaf old grandmother did not hear her was easily understood. the hiltners could not have returned, so she must wait. first she paced impatiently to and fro in the rain, then sat upon a curbstone which seemed to be protected from the shower by the roof. but ever and anon a larger stream of water poured down upon her from the jaws of a hideous monster in which the gutter ended than from the black clouds, and, dripping wet, she at last leaned against the door, which was better shielded by the projecting lintel, while the fisherman inquired about the absent occupants of the house. thus minute after minute passed until the first and then the second quarter of an hour ended. when the third commenced, barbara thought she had waited there half the night. the rain began to lessen, it is true, but the sultry night grew cooler, and a slight chill increased her discomfort. yet she did not move from the spot. here, in front of the house in which estimable women had taken her to their hearts with such maternal and sisterly affection, barbara had plainly perceived that she, who had never ceased to respect herself, would forever rob herself of this right if she did not make every effort in her power to save erasmus from the grave peril in which he had become involved on her account. during this self-inspection she did not conceal from herself that, while singing his own compositions to him, she had yielded to the unfortunate habit of promising more with her eyes than she intended to perform. how could this vain, foolish sport have pleased her after she had yielded herself, soul and body, to the highest and greatest of men! anne mirl woller had often been reproved by her mother, in her presence, for her freedom of manner. but who had ever addressed such a warning to her? now she must atone for her heedlessness, like many other things which her impetuous will demanded and proved stronger than the reason which forbade it. it was a wonder that baron malfalconnet and maestro gombert had not sued more urgently for her favour. if she was honest, she could not help admitting that her lover--and such a lover!--was justified in wishing many things in her totally different. but she was warned now, and henceforth these follies should be over--wholly and entirely over! if only he would refrain from wounding her with that irritating sharpness, which made her rebellious blood boil and clouded her clear brain! he was indeed the emperor, to whom reverence was due; but during the happy hours which tenderly united them he himself desired to be nothing but the man to whom the heart of the woman he loved belonged. she must keep herself worthy of him, nothing more, and this toilsome errand would prevent her from sullying herself with an ugly sin. during these reflections the chill had become more and more unendurable, yet she thought far less of the discomfort which it caused her than of increased danger to erasmus from the hiltners' long absence. the third quarter of an hour was already drawing to an end when valentin came hurrying up and told barbara that they were on the way. he had managed to speak to the syndic, and told him who was waiting for him. a young maid-servant, running rapidly, came first to open the house and light the lamps. she was followed, quite a distance in advance of the others, by dr. hiltner. the fisherman's communication had made him anxious. he, too, had heard that barbara was the emperor's favourite. besides, more than one complaint of her offensive arrogance had reached him. but, for that very reason, the wise man said to himself, it must be something of importance that led her to him at this hour and in such weather. at first he answered her greeting with cool reserve, but when she explained that she had come, in spite of the storm, because the matter concerned the weal or woe of a person dear to him, and he saw that she was dripping wet, he honestly regretted his long delay, and in his manly, resolute manner requested her to follow him into the house; but barbara could not be persuaded to do so. to give the thunderstorm time to pass and take his wife and daughter home dry, he had entered a tavern near the lindens and there engaged in conversation with several friends over some wine. whenever he urged returning, the young people--she knew why--objected. but at last they had started, and bernhard trainer had accompanied the hiltners, in order to woo martina on the way. her parents had seen this coming, and willingly confided their child's happiness to him. the betrothed couple now came up also, and saw with surprise the earnest zeal with which martina's father was discussing something, they knew not what, with the singer on whose account they had had their first quarrel. the lover had condemned barbara's unprecedented arrogance during the dance so severely that martina found it unendurable to listen longer. frau sabina, too, did not know how to interpret barbara's presence; but one thing was certain in her kindly heart--this was no place for such conversation. how wet the poor girl must be! the wrong which barbara had done her child was not taken into consideration under these circumstances and, with maternal solicitude, she followed her husband's example, and earnestly entreated barbara to change her clothes in her house and warm herself with a glass of hot black currant wine. but barbara could not be induced to do so, and hurriedly explained to the syndic what he lacked the clew to understand. in a few minutes she had made him acquainted with everything that it was necessary for him to know. dr. hiltner, turning to his wife, and mean while looking his future son-in-law steadily in the eye, exclaimed, "we are all, let me tell you, greatly indebted to this brave girl." frau sabina's heart swelled with joy, and to martina, too, the praise which her father bestowed on barbara was a precious gift. the mother and daughter had always espoused her cause, and now it again proved that they had done well. "so i was right, after all," whispered the young girl to her lover. "and will prove so often," he answered gaily. but when, a short time after, he proposed to barbara's warm advocate to accompany the singer home, martina preferred to detain him, and invited him to stay in the house with her a little while longer. these incidents had occupied only a brief period, and dr. hiltner undertook to escort the young girl himself. to save time, he questioned her about everything which he still desired to know, but left her before she turned into the lane leading to the little castle, because he was aware that she, who belonged to the emperor's household, might he misjudged if she were seen in his company. shortly after, he had freed erasmus from imprisonment and sent him, in charge of one of the council's halberdiers, beyond the gate. he was to remain concealed outside the city until the syndic recalled him. the young theologian willingly submitted, after confessing to his fosterfather how strongly love for barbara had taken possession of him. this act might arouse strong hostility to the syndic, but he did not fear it. moreover, the emperor had showed at the festival plainly enough his withdrawal of the good opinion which he had formerly testified upon many an occasion. this was on account of his religion, and where that was concerned there was no yielding or dissimulation on either side. barbara returned home soothed. frau lerch was waiting for her, and with many tokens of disapproval undressed her. yet she carefully dried her feet and rubbed them with her hands, that she might escape the fever which she saw approaching. barbara accepted with quiet gratitude the attention bestowed upon her, but, though she closed her eyes, the night brought no sleep, for sometimes she shivered in a chill, sometimes a violent headache tortured her. chapter ii. sleep also deserted the emperor's couch. after his return from the festival he tried to examine several documents which the secretary gastelii had laid ready for him on the writing-table, but he could not succeed. his thoughts constantly reverted to barbara and her defiant rebellion against the distinct announcement of his will. had the duke of saxony, so much his junior and, moreover, a far handsomer and perhaps more generous prince, won her favour, and therefore did she perhaps desire to break the bond with him? why not? she was a woman, and a capricious one, too, and of what would not such a nature be capable? besides, there was something else. jamnitzer, the nuremberg goldsmith, had intrusted a casket of jewels to adrian to keep during his absence. they were intended for the diadems which the emperor was to give his two nieces for bridal presents. the principal gems among them were two rubies and a diamond. on the gold of the old-fashioned setting were a p and an l, the initial letters of his motto "plus ultra." he had once had it engraved upon the back of the star which he bestowed upon barbara. his keen eye and faithful memory could not be deceived-jamnitzer's jewels had been broken from that costly ornament. from time immemorial it had belonged to the treasures of his family, and he had already doubted whether it was justifiable to give it away. was it conceivable that barbara had parted with this, his first memento, sold it, "turned it into money"?--the base words wounded his chivalrous soul like the blow of a scourge. she was a passionate, defiant, changeful creature, it is true, yet her nature was noble, hostile to baseness, and what a wealth of the purest and deepest feeling echoed in her execution of solemn songs! this induced him to reject as impossible the suspicion that she could have stooped to anything so unworthy. still, it was not easily banished. a long series of the sorest disappointments had rendered him distrustful, and he remembered having asked her several times for the star in vain. perhaps it had been stolen from her, and jamnitzer had obtained it from the thief himself or from the receiver. this thought partially soothed him, especially as, if correct, it would be possible for him to recover the ornament. but he was an economical manager, and to expend thousands of ducats for such a thing just at this time, when immense sums were needed for the approaching war, seemed to him more than vexatious. besides, the high price which he had paid for the saxon's aid rendered him uneasy. he had ceded two large bishoprics to his protestant ally, and this act of liberality, which, it is true, had been approved and supported by granvelle, could no longer be undone. moreover, if he drew the sword, he must maintain the pretence that it was not done for the sake of religion, but solely to chastise the insubordinate protestant princes, headed by the elector john frederick of saxony and philip of hesse, who had seriously angered him. in ten days the reichstag would be opened in ratisbon and, in spite of his special invitation, these princes, who had refused to recognise the council of trent, had excused their absence upon trivial pretexts--the hessian, who on other occasions, attended by his numberless servants in green livery, had made three times as great a display as he, the emperor, on the pretext that the journey to ratisbon would be too expensive. maurice now had his imperial word and he the duke's; but since that evening charles thought he had noticed something which lessened his confidence in the saxon. it was not only jealousy which showed him this young, clever, brave, and extremely ambitious prince in a more unfavourable light than before. he knew men, and thought that he had perceived in him signs of the most utter selfishness. as maurice, to gain two bishoprics, and perhaps later the elector's hat, abandoned his coreligionists, his cousin and his father-in-law, he would also desert him if his own advantage prompted him to do so. true, such an ally was useful for many things, but he could not be trusted implicitly a single hour. maurice certainly had not remained ignorant of barbara's relation to him, the emperor, and yet, in the sovereign's very presence, he had courted her favour with such defiant boldness that charles struck the writingtable with his fist as he thought of his manner to the singer. would maurice impose greater moderation upon himself in political affairs? yet perhaps he judged the saxon too severely, and made him suffer for another's sin. the man's conduct is governed by the woman's, and he had seen how barbara, as it were, gave maurice the right to sue thus boldly for her favour. was it conceivable that she loved him, after having wounded him, as if intentionally, by acts which she knew were detestable to him? if her heart was still his, how could she have so inconsiderately favoured in his presence another, younger man? angrily excited by the question, he rose from the writing-table. but ere he went to rest he thought of his hapless mother, whose birthday at this hour, beyond midnight, was now over, and, kneeling before the priedieu in his bedroom, he fervently commended her to the mercy of heaven. this woman had loved her husband so fondly that it was long ere she could resolve to part from his corpse, yet she was the heiress of the mightiest sovereigns; and what was this ratisbon girl whom he honoured with his affection? and yet! while her lips were still glowing from his kisses, she had carried on a reckless game with another, and was now robbing him of the repose of mind which he so urgently, needed. and the mother of the woman whose birthday had just passed, the proud queen isabella, the conqueror of the moors--what would she have said had she been condemned to see her grandson, the heir of so great an empire, ensnared by such bonds? he had proved, since he wielded the sceptre, that he did not lack strength of will, and he must show it again. he reminded himself indignantly that he was not only the ruler of many nations, but the head of perhaps the most illustrious family on earth. he thought of his royal brothers and sisters, his haughty son philip, his daughters, nephews, and nieces; and while pouring forth his soul in fervent prayer for his unfortunate mother, with her disordered intellect, he also besought the redeemer to free him from the evil of this love. three words from his lips would have sufficed to rid him of barbara forever, but--he felt it--that would not end the matter. he must also learn to forget her, and for that he needed the aid of the higher powers. he had once more yielded to worldly pleasure. the kiss of her beautiful soft lips had been sweet, the melody of her voice still more blissful. it had given him hours of rapture; but were these joys worth the long repentance which was already beginning? it was wise to sacrifice the transitory pleasures of earth to loftier purposes. one thing alone promised permanent duration even here--what he was achieving for the future greatness of his own name and that of his race. for them he was now going to war, and, by fighting against the heretics, the foes of god, he entered the strife, in a sense, as the instrument of heaven. thus, not only his duty as a sovereign, but care for his eternal salvation, compelled him to cast aside everything which might jeopardize the triumph of his good, nay, sacred cause; and what could imperil it more seriously than this late passion, which to-day had rendered it impossible to do his duty? firmly resolved to resign barbara before his brother ferdinand reached ratisbon with his family, he rose from the priedieu and sought his couch. but sleep fled from the anxious ruler; besides, the pain of the gout became more severe. after rising early, he went limping to mass, breakfasted, and began his work. many charts and plans had been placed on the writing-table for him, and beside them he found a letter from granvelle, in which he stated his views concerning the alliance with duke maurice, and what advantage might be derived from it. both as a whole and in detail charles approved them, and gladly left to the minister the final negotiations with the duke, who intended to leave ratisbon at noon. if he briefly ratified the terms which had been arranged with granvelle, and gave maurice his hand in farewell, he thought he would have satisfied amply the claims of the covetous man, of whose aid, however, he stood in need. after the thunderstorm the weather had grown cloudy and cool. perhaps the change had caused his increased suffering and unhappy mood. but the true reason was doubtless the resolution formed the night before, and which now by day seemed more difficult to execute than he had thought at the priedieu. he was still resolved to keep it, but earthly life appeared less short, and he could not conceal from himself that, without barbara's sunny cheerfulness, bewitching tenderness, and, alas! without her singing, his future existence would lack its greatest charm. his life would be like this gloomy day. put he would not relinquish what he had once firmly determined and proved to himself by reasoning to be the correct course. he could not succeed in burying himself in charts and plans as usual and, while imagining how life could be endured without the woman he loved, he pushed the papers aside. in days like these, when the old ache again attacked him, barbara and her singing had brightened the dreary gloom and lessened the pain, or she had caressed and sung it entirely away. he seemed to himself like a surly patient who throws aside the helpful medicine because it once tasted badly to him and was an annoyance to others. yet no. it contained poison also, so it was wise to put it away. but had not dr. mathys told him yesterday that the strongest remedial power was concealed in poisons, and that they were the most effective medicines? ought he not to examine once more the reasons which had led him to this last resolution? he bowed his head with an irresolution foreign to his nature, and when his greyhound touched his aching foot he pushed the animal angrily away. the confessor de soto found him in this mood at his first visit. ere he crossed the threshold he saw that charles was suffering and felt troubled by some important matter, and soon learned what he desired to know. but if charles expected the dominican to greet his decision with grateful joy, he was mistaken, for de soto had long since relinquished the suspicion which had prejudiced him against barbara and, on the contrary, with the bishop of arras, had reached the certainty that the love which united the monarch to the singer would benefit him. both knew the danger which threatened the sovereign from his tendency to melancholy, and now that he saw his efforts to urge the emperor to a war with the smalcalds crowned with success, he wished to keep alive in him the joyousness which barbara, and she alone, had aroused and maintained. so he used the convincing eloquence characteristic of him to shake the monarch's resolve, and lead him back to the woman he loved. the church made no objection to this bond of free love formed by a sovereign whom grave political considerations withheld from a second marriage. if his majesty's affection diminished the success of his work, the separation from so dear a being, who afforded him so much pleasure, would do this to a far greater degree. that barbara had allowed the bold saxon too much liberty on the dancing ground he did not deny, but took advantage of the opportunity to point out the unscrupulousness which characterized maurice, like all heretics. as for barbara, the warm blood and fresh love of pleasure of youth, qualities which to many were her special charm, had led her into the error of the luckless dance. but the emperor, who until then had listened to de soto' here interrupted him to confide the unfortunate suspicion which had been aroused in him the day before. the mention of this matter, however, was very opportune to the almoner, for he could easily turn it to the advantage of the suspected girl. the day before yesterday she had confessed to him the fate of the valuable star, and begged him, if her imprudent deed of charity should be discovered, to relieve her of the painful task of explaining to charles how she had been induced to sell a memento so dear to her. thereupon the confessor himself had ascertained from the marquise and the goldsmith jamnitzer that barbara had told him the whole truth. so in his eyes, and probably in those of a higher power, this apparently ignoble act would redound no little to the credit of the girl's heart. charles listened to this explanation with a silent shrug of the shoulders. such a deed could scarcely be otherwise regarded by the priest, but barbara's disregard of his first gift offended him far more than the excellent disposition evinced by the hasty act pleased him. she had flung the first tangible token of his love into the insatiable jaws of a worthless profligate, like a copper coin thrown as alms to a beggar. it grieved the soul of the economical manager and lover of rare works of art to have this ancient and also very valuable family heirloom broken to pieces. malfalconnet would not fail to utter some biting jest when he heard that charles must now, as it were, purchase this costly ornament of himself. he would have forgiven barbara everything else more easily than this mad casting away of a really royal gift. expressing his indignation to the almoner without reserve, he closed the interview with him. when charles was again alone he tried to rise, in order, while pacing up and down the room, to examine his resolution once more. but his aching foot prevented this plan and, groaning aloud, he sank back into his arm-chair. his heart had not been so sore for a long time, and it was barbara's fault. yet he longed for her. if she had laid her delicate white hand upon his brow, he said to himself, or had he been permitted to listen to even one of her deeply felt religious songs, it would have cheered his soul and even alleviated his physical suffering. several times he stretched his hand toward the bell to send for her; but she had offended him so deeply that he must at least let her feel how gravely she had erred, and that the lion could not be irritated unpunished, so he conquered himself and remained alone. the sense of offended majesty strengthened his power of resisting the longing for her. indignant with himself, he again drew the maps toward him. but like a cloth fluttering up and down between a picture and the beholder, memories of barbara forced themselves between him and the plans over which he was bending. this could not continue! perhaps, after all, her singing was the only thing which could restore his lost composure. he longed for it even more ardently than for her face. if he sent for her, he could show her by his manner what fruit her transgressions had borne. the rest would follow as a matter of course. now every fibre of his being yearned for the melody of her voice. obeying a hasty resolution, he rang the bell and ordered adrian to call quijada and command barbara to sing in the golden cross that afternoon. after the valet had replaced his aching foot in the right position, don luis appeared. without any further comment the emperor informed him that he had determined to sever the bond of love which united him to the singer. while speaking, he looked his friend sharply in the face, and when he saw, by his silent bow, that his decision called forth no deeper emotion in him, he carelessly added that, nevertheless, he intended to hear her sing that day, and perhaps many times more. perceiving a significant smile upon the lips of the faithful follower, and recognising the peril contained in the last resolve, he shook his finger at quijada, saying: "as if even the inmost recesses of your soul were concealed from me! you are asking yourself, why does charles deny me leave to visit villagarcia, and thereby cruelly prevent my being happy with my dear, beautiful young wife, after so long a separation, if he considers himself strong enough to turn his back, without further ceremony, upon the woman he loves, after seeing and hearing her again?" your majesty has read correctly," replied don luis, "yet my wish for a brief stay with doha magdalena de ulloa is very different from your majesty's desire." "how?" demanded charles in a sharp tone of inquiry. "is my strength of will, in your opinion, so far inferior to yours?" "your majesty can scarcely deem me capable of so presumptuous an error," replied quijada. "but your majesty is charles v, who has no superior save our lord in heaven. i, on the contrary, am only a castilian nobleman, and as such prize my honour as my highest treasure; but, above all other things, even above the lady of my heart, stands the king." "i might know that," cried the emperor, holding out his hand to his friend. "yet i refused you the leave of absence, you faithful fellow. the world calls this selfishness. but since it still needs me, it ought in justice to excuse me, for never have i needed you so much as during these decisive weeks, whether war is declared--and it will come to that-or not. think how many other things are also impending! besides, my foot aches, and my heart, this poor heart, bears a wound which a friend's careful hand will soothe. so you understand, luis, that the muchtormented charles can not do without you just now." quijada, with sincere emotion, bent over the monarch's hand and kissed it tenderly, but the emperor, for the first time, hastily stroked his bearded cheek, and said in an agitated tone, "we know each other." "yes, your majesty," cried the spaniard. "in the first place, i will not again annoy my master with the request for a leave of absence. dona magdalena must try how she can accommodate herself to widowhood while she has a living husband, if the holy virgin will only permit me to offer your majesty what you expect from me." "i will answer for that," the emperor was saying, when adrian interrupted him. the messenger had returned from prebrunn with the news that the singer had taken cold the day before, and could not leave the house. charles angrily exclaimed that he knew what such illness meant, and his under lip protruded so far that it was easy to perceive how deeply this fresh proof of barbara's defiance and vanity incensed him. but when the chamberlain said that the singer had been attacked by a violent fever, charles changed colour, and asked quickly in a tone of sincere anxiety: "and dr. mathys? has he seen her? no? then he must go to her at once, and i shall expect tidings as soon as he returns. perhaps the fever was seething in her blood yesterday." he had no time to make any further remarks about the sufferer, for one visitor followed another. shortly before noon the bishop of arras ushered in duke maurice, who wished to take leave of him. granvelle, in a businesslike manner, summed up the result of the negotiations, and charles made no objection; but after he had said farewell to the saxon prince, he remarked, with a smile which was difficult to interpret: "one thing more, my dear prince. the beautiful singer has suffered from the gagliarde, which she had the honour of dancing with you; she is lying ill of a fever. we will, however, scarcely regard it as an evil omen for the agreements which we concluded on the same day. with our custom of keeping our hands away from everything which our friendly ally claims as his right, our alliance, please god, will not fail to have good success." a faint flush crimsoned the intelligent face of the saxon duke, and an answer as full of innuendo as the emperor's address was already hovering on his lips, when the chief equerry's entrance gave him power to restrain it. count lanoi announced that his highness's travelling escort was ready, and the emperor, with an air of paternal affection, bade the younger sovereign farewell. as soon as the door had closed behind maurice, charles, turning to granvelle, remarked, "the saxon cousin returned our clasp of the hand some what coldly, but the means of rendering it warmer are ready." "the elector's hat," replied the bishop of arras. "i hope it will prevent him from making our heads hot, as the germans say, instead of his own." "if only our brains keep cool," replied the emperor. "it is needful in dealing with this young man." "he knows his machiavelli," added the statesman, "but i think the florentine did not write wholly in vain for us also." "scarcely," observed the emperor, smiling, and then rang the little bell to have his valet summon dr. mathys. the leech had returned from his visit to barbara, and feared that the burning fever from which she was suffering might indicate the commencement of inflammation of the lungs. charles started up and expressed the desire to be conveyed at once in the litter to prebrunn; but the physician declared that his majesty's visit would as certainly harm the feverish girl as going out in such weather would increase the gout in his royal master's foot. the monarch shrugged his shoulders, and seized the despatches and letters which had arrived. the persons about him suffered severely from his detestable mood, but the dull weather of this gloomy day appeared also to have a bad effect upon the confessor de soto, for his lofty brow was scarcely less clouded than the sky. he did not allude to barbara by a single word, yet she was the cause of his depression. after his conversation with the sovereign he had retired to his private room, to devote himself to the philological studies which he pursued during the greater portion of the day with equal zeal and success. but he had scarcely begun to be absorbed in the new copy of the best manuscript of apuleius, which had readied him from florence, and make notes in the first roman printed work of this author, when cassian interrupted him. he had missed the servant in the morning. now the fellow, always so punctual when he had not gazed too deeply into the wine-cup, stood before him in a singular plight, for he was completely drenched, and a disagreeable odour of liquor exhaled from him. the flaxen hair, which bristled around his head and hung over his broad, ugly face, gave him so unkempt and imbecile an appearance that it was repulsive to the almoner, and he harshly asked where he had been loitering. but cassian, confident that his master's indignation would soon change to approval and praise, rapidly began to relate what had occurred outside the little castle at prebrunn when the festival under the lindens was over. after helping to place the wittenberg theologian in custody, he had followed barbara at some distance during her nocturnal walk. while she waited in front of dr. hiltner's house and talked with the members of the syndic's family after their return, he had remained concealed in the shadow of a neighbouring dwelling, and did not move until the doctor had gone away with the singer. he cautiously glided behind them as far as the garden, witnessed the syndic's cordial farewell to his companion, and dogged the former to the prebrunn jail. here he had again been obliged to wait patiently a long while before the doctor came out into the open air with the prisoner. the rope had been removed from erasmus's hands, and cassian had remained at his heels until he stopped in the village of kager, on the nuremberg road. the young man had taken a lunch in the tavern there; the money for it was given him by the syndic. cassian had seen the gold pieces which had been placed in erasmus's hand, to pay his travelling expenses, glitter in the rosy light of dawn. in reply to the almoner's question whether he remembered any portion of the conversation between the syndic and the singer, cassian admitted that he had been obliged to keep too far away from them to hear it, but dr. hiltner's manner to the girl had been very friendly, especially when he took leave of her. the anything but grateful manner with which the almoner received this story was a great disappointment to the overzealous servant; nay, he secretly permitted himself to doubt his master's wisdom and energy when the latter remarked that the arrest of a man who had merely entered a stranger's garden was entirely unjustifiable, and that he was aware of the singer's acquaintanceship with the hiltners. with these words he motioned cassian to the door. when the prelate was again alone he gazed thoughtfully into vacancy. he understood human beings sufficiently well to know that barbara had not deceived him in her confession. in spite of the nocturnal walk with the head of the ratisbon heretics, she was faithful to the catholic church. erasmus's visit at night alone gave him cause for reflection, and suggested the doubt whether he might not have interceded too warmly for this peculiar creature and her excitable artist nature. chapter iii. silence pervaded the little castle in prebrunn; nay, there were days when a thick layer of straw in the road showed that within the house lay some one seriously ill, who must be guarded from every sound. in ratisbon and the golden cross, on the contrary, the noise and bustle constantly increased. on the twenty-eighth of may, king ferdinand arrived with his family to visit his brother charles. the reichstag would be opened on the fifth of june, and attracted to the danube many princes and nobles, but neither the elector john of saxony nor the landgrave philip of hesse, the heads of the smalcald league. king ferdinand's two daughters were to be married the first of july, and many a distinguished guest came to ratisbon in june. besides, several soldiers began to appear. the emperor charles's hours were filled to the brim with work and social obligations. the twinges of the gout had not wholly disappeared, but remained bearable. the quiet good-breeding of the two young archduchesses pleased the emperor, and their young brother maximilian's active mind and gay, chivalrous nature delighted him, though many a trait made him, as well as the confessor, doubt whether he did not incline more toward the evangelical doctrine than beseemed a son of his illustrious race. but charles himself, in his youth, had not been a stranger to such leanings. if maximilian was intrusted with the reins of government, he would perceive in what close and effective union stood the church and the state. far from rousing his opposition by reproaches, the shrewd uncle won his affection and merely sowed in his mind, by apt remarks, the seeds which in due time would grow and bear their fruit. the austrians watched with sincere admiration the actually exhausting industry of the illustrious head of their house, for he allowed himself only a few hours' sleep, and when granvelle had worked with him until he was wearied, he buried himself, either alone or with some officers of high rank, in charts of the seat of war, in making calculations, arranging the levying of recruits and military movements, and yet did not withdraw from the society of his viennese relatives and other distinguished guests. still, he did not forget barbara. the leech was daily expected to give a report of her health, and when, during the middle of june, dr. mathys expressed doubts of her recovery, it rendered him so anxious that his relatives noticed it, and attributed it to the momentous declaration of war which was on the eve of being made. when the sufferer at last began to recover, his selfishness was satisfied with the course of events. true, he thought of the late springtime of love which he had enjoyed as an exquisite gift of fortune, and when he remembered many a tender interview with barbara a bright smile flitted over his grave countenance. but, on the whole, he was glad that this love affair had come to so honourable an end. the last few weeks had claimed his entire time and strength so rigidly and urgently that he would have been compelled to refuse barbara's demands upon his love or neglect serious duties. besides, a meeting between barbara and his nephew and young nieces could scarcely have been avoided, and this would have cast a shadow upon the unbounded reverence and admiration paid him by the wholly inexperienced, childlike young archduchesses, which afforded him sincere pleasure. the confessor had taken care to bring this vividly before his mind. while speaking of barbara with sympathizing compassion, he represented her illness as a fresh token of the divine favour which heaven so often showed to the emperor charles, and laid special stress upon the disadvantages which the longer duration of this love affair-though in itself, pardonable, nay, even beneficial--would have entailed. queen mary's boy choir was to remain in ratisbon some time longer, and whenever the monarch attended their performances--which was almost dailythe longing for barbara awoke with fresh strength. even in the midst of the most arduous labour he considered the question how it might be possible to keep her near him--not, it is true, as his favourite, but as a singer, and his inventive brain hit upon a successful expedient. by raising her father to a higher rank, he might probably have had her received by his sister mary among her ladies in waiting, but then there would always have been an unwelcome temptation existing. if, on the other hand, barbara would decide to take the veil, an arrangement could easily be made for him to hear her often, and her singing might then marvellously beautify the old age, so full of suffering and destitute of pleasure, that awaited him. he realized more and more distinctly that it was less her rare beauty than the spell of her voice and of her art which had constrained him to this late passion. the idea that she would refuse to accept the fate to which he had condemned her was incomprehensible to his sense of power, and therefore did not occur to his mind. yet, especially when he was bearing pain, he did not find it difficult to silence even this wish for the future, for then memories of the last deeply clouded hours of their love bond forced themselves upon him. he saw her swinging like a bacchante in the dance with the young saxon duke; the star which had been thrown away appeared before his eyes, and his irritated soul commanded him never to see her again. but the suffering of a person whom we have once loved possesses a reconciling power, and he who usually forgot no insult, even after the lapse of years, was again disposed to forgive her, and reverted to the wish to continue to enjoy her singing. when, before their wedding day, he gave his nieces the diadems which jammtzer had made for them, his resentment concerning the ornament sold by barbara again awoke. he could no longer punish her for this "loveless" deed, as he called it, but he made the marquise feel severely enough his indignation for her abuse of the young girl's inexperience, for, without granting her a farewell audience, he sent her back to brussels, with letters to queen mary expressing his displeasure. instead of her skilful maid alphonsine, a clumsy swabian girl accompanied her--the former had married cassian. barbara heard nothing of all these things; her recovery was slow, and every source of anxiety was kept from her. she had never been ill before, and to be still at a time when every instinct urged her to battle for her life happiness and her love, to prove the power of her beauty and her art, put her slender stock of patience to the severest test. during the first few days she was perfectly conscious, and watched with keen suspense what was passing around her. it made her happy to find that charles sent his own physician to her but, on the other hand, she was deeply and painfully agitated by his failure to grant the entreaty which she sent by dr. mathys to let her see his face, even if only for a moment. gombert and appenzelder, massi, the wollers from the ark, dr. hiltner's wife and daughter, the boy singer hannibal, and many gentlemen of the court-nay, even the bishop of arras--came to inquire for her, and barbara had strictly enjoined frau lerch to tell her everything that concerned her; for every token of sympathy filled the place, as it were, of the applause to which she was accustomed. when, on the second day, she heard that old ursula had been there to ask about her for wolf, who was now convalescing, she passionately insisted upon seeing her, but, obedient to the physician's orders, frau lerch would not admit her. then barbara flew into such a rage that the foolish woman forgot to take the fever into account, and determined to return home. many motives drew her there, but especially her business; day and night her mind was haunted by the garments which, just at this time, before the commencement of the reichstag, other dressmakers were fashioning for her aristocratic customers. a certain feeling of shame had restrained her from leaving barbara directly after the beginning of her illness. besides, delay had been advisable, because the appearance of the emperor's physician proved that the monarch's love was not wholly dead. but barbara's outbreak now came at an opportune time, for yesterday, by the leech's suggestion, and with the express approval of the emperor, one of the dominican nuns, sister hyacinthe, had come from the convent of the holy cross and, with quiet dignity, assumed her office of nurse beside her charge's sick-bed. this forced fran lerch into a position which did not suit her, and as, soon after barbara's outbreak, dr. mathys sternly ordered her to adopt a more quiet and modest bearing, she declared that she would not bear such insult and abuse, hastily packed her property, and returned to the grieb with a much larger amount of luggage than she had brought with her. sister hyacinthe now ruled alone in the sickroom, and the calm face of the nun, whose cap concealed hair already turning gray, exerted as soothing an influence upon the patient as her low, pleasant voice. she was the daughter of a knightly race, and had taken the veil from a deep inward vocation, as one of the elect who, in following christ, forget themselves, in order to dedicate to her suffering neighbours all her strength and the great love which filled her heart. they were her world, and her sole pleasure was to satisfy the compassionate impulse in her own breast by severe toil, by tender solicitude, by night watching, and by exertions often continued to actual suffering. death, into whose face she had looked beside so many sickbeds, was to her a kind friend who held the key of the eternal home where the divine bridegroom awaited her. the events occurring in the world, whether peace reigned or the nations were at war with one another, affected her only so far as they were connected with her patient. her thoughts and acts, all her love and solicitude, referred solely to the invalid in her care. the departure of frau lerch was a relief to her mind, and it seemed an enigma that barbara, whose beauty increased her interest, and whom the physician had extolled as a famous singer, could have given her confidence, in her days of health, to this woman. sister hyacinthe's appearance beside her couch had at first perplexed barbara, because she had not asked for her; but the mere circumstance that her lover had sent her rendered it easy to treat the nun kindly, and the tireless, experienced, and invariably cheerful nurse soon became indispensable. on the whole, both the leech and sister hyacinthe could call barbara a docile patient, and she often subjected herself to a restraint irksome to her vivacious temperament, because she felt how much gratitude she owed to both. not until the fever reached its height did her turbulent nature assert its full power, and the experienced disciple of the art of healing had seen few invalids rave more wildly. the delusions that tortured her were by no means varied, for all revolved about the person of her imperial lover and her art. but under the most careful nursing her strong constitution resisted even the most violent attacks of the fever, and when june was drawing toward an end all danger seemed over. dr. mathys had already permitted her to sit out of doors, and informed the emperor that there was no further occasion for fear. the monarch expressed his gratification but, instead of asking more particularly about the progress of her convalescence, he hastily turned the conversation to his own health. dr. mathys regretted this for the sake of the beautiful neglected creature, who had won his sympathy, but it did not surprise him, for duty after duty now filled every hour of charles's day. besides, on the day after to-morrow, the fourth of july, the marriages of his two nieces were to take place, and he himself was to accompany the bridal procession and attend the wedding. on the fifth the reichstag would be opened, and the duke of alba, with several experienced colonels, had arrived as harbingers of the approaching war. where this stern and tried general appeared, thoughts of war began to stir, and already men equipped with helmets and armour began to be seen in unusual numbers in all the streets and squares of ratisbon. the emperor's room, too, had an altered aspect, for, instead of a few letters and despatches, his writing-table was now covered not only with maps and plans, but lists and tables referring to the condition of his army. what could the health of a half-convalescent girl now be to the man to whom even his most trusted friend would no longer have dared to mention her as his favourite? of course, dr. mathys told barbara nothing about the emperor's lack of interest, for any strong mental excitement might still be injurious to her. besides, he was a reserved man, who said little more to barbara than was necessary. toward the emperor charles he imposed a certain restraint upon himself; but the royal adept in reading human nature knew that in him he possessed one of the most loyal servants, and gave him his entire confidence. for his sake alone this wealthy scholar devoted himself to the laborious profession which so often kept him from library and laboratory. although his smooth, brown hair had turned gray long ago, he had never married, for he had decided in the emperor's favour-this charles knew also--whenever the choice presented itself to follow his royal patient during his journeys and expeditions or to find rest and comfort in a home of his own. the calm, kindly manner of this far-famed physician very soon gained a great influence over the vivacious barbara. since she had felt sure of his good will, she had willingly obeyed him. though he was often obliged to shake his finger at her and tell her how much she herself could contribute toward regaining freedom of motion and the use of her voice, she really did nothing which he could seriously censure, and thus her recovery progressed in the most favourable manner until the wedding day was close at hand. she had already been permitted to receive visits from old acquaintances and, without saying much herself, listen to the news they brought. the little maltese, hannibal, had also appeared again, and the lively boy told her many things which gombert and appenzelder had not mentioned. the morning of the day before the princesses' marriage he informed her, among other things, that the bridal procession would march the following morning. it was to start from the cathedral square and go to prebrunn, where it would turn back and disband in front of the town hall. all the distinguished noblemen and ladies who had come to ratisbon to attend the wedding and the reichstag would show themselves to the populace on this occasion, and it was even said that the emperor intended to lead the train with his royal brother. it must pass by the garden; but the road could scarcely be seen from the little castle--the lindens, beeches, and elms were too tall and their foliage was too thick to permit it. this news destroyed barbara's composure. though she had slept well during the past few nights, on this one slumber deserted her. she could not help thinking constantly of the possibility that the emperor might be present in the procession, and to see her lover again was the goal of her longing. even in the morning, while the physician permitted her to remain in the open air because the clay was hot and still, the bridal procession was continually in her thoughts. yet she did not utter a word in allusion to it. at the noon meal she ate so little that sister hyacinthe noticed it, and anxiously asked if she felt worse; but barbara reassured her and, after a short rest in the house, she asked to be taken out again under the lindens where she had reclined in an armchair that morning. scarcely had she seated herself when all the bells in the city began to ring, and the heavy ordnance and howitzers shook the air with their thunder. what a festal alarum! how vividly it reminded her of the brilliant exhibitions and festivities which she had formerly attended! she listened breathlessly to the sounds from the city, and now a distant blare of trumpets drowned the dull roar of the ordnance and the sharp rattle of the culverins. the confused blending of many human voices reached her from beyond the garden wall. the road must be full of people. now single shrill trumpet notes echoed from afar amid the trombones and the dull roll of the drums, the noise increasing every moment. from a large, old beech tree close to the wall, into which a dozen lads had climbed, she already saw handkerchiefs waving and heard the shouts of clear, boyish voices. sister hyacinthe had just gone into the house, and like an illumination the thought darted through barbara's mind that the road could be seen from the little summer house which the reverend owner of the castle called his "frigidarium," because it was cool even during the warmest summer day. it was a small, towerlike building close to the garden wall, whose single inner room was designed to imitate a rock cave. the walls were covered with tufa and stalagmites, shells, mountain crystals, and corals, and from the lofty ceiling hung large stalactites. from one of the walls a fountain plashed into a large shell garlanded with green aquatic plants and tenanted by several goldfish and frogs. the single open window resembled a cleft in the rocks, and looked out upon the road. blocks of stone, flung one upon another without regard to order, formed steps from which to look out of doors. these stairs afforded a view of the road to the city. barbara had often used them when watching in the dusk of evening for her lover's litter or, at a still later hour, for the torch-bearers who preceded it. she could already walk firmly enough to mount the few rough steps which led to the opening in the rocks and, obeying the tameless yearning of her heart, she rose from the arm-chair and walked as rapidly as her feeble strength permitted toward the frigidarium. it was more difficult to traverse the path, illumined by the hot july sun, than she had expected; but the pealing of the bells and the roar of the cannon continued, and now it was drowned by the fanfare of the trumpets and the shouts of the people. all this thundering, ringing, clashing, chiming, and cheering was a greeting to him for the sight of whom her whole being so ardently longed; and when, halfway down the path, she felt the need of resting on a bench under a weeping ash, she did not obey it, but forced herself to totter on. drops of perspiration covered her forehead when she entered the frigidarium, but there the most delicious coolness greeted her. here, too, however, she could allow herself no rest, for the boys in the top of the beech, and some neighbouring trees, were already shouting their clear voices hoarse and waving caps and branches. with trembling knees she forced herself to climb one after another of the blocks that formed the staircase. when a slight faintness attacked her, a stalactite afforded her support, and it passed as quickly as it came. now she had reached her goal. the rock on which she stood gave her feet sufficient support, as it had done many times before. barbara needed a few minutes in this wonderfully cool atmosphere to recover complete self-control. only the wild pulsation of her heart still caused a painful feeling; but if she was permitted to see the object of her love once more, the world might go to ruin and she with it. now she gazed from the lofty window over the open country. she had come just at the right time. imperial halberdiers and horse guards, galloping up and down, kept the centre of the road free. on the opposite side of the highway which she overlooked was a dense, countless multitude of citizens, peasants, soldiers, monks, women, and children, who with difficulty resisted the pressure of those who stood behind them, shoulder to shoulder, head to head. barbara from her lofty station saw hats, barets, caps, helmets, women's caps and coifs, fair and red hair on uncovered heads and, in the centre of many, the priestly tonsure. then a column of dust advanced along the road from which the fanfare resounded like the scream of the hawk from the gray fog. a few minutes later, the cloud vanished; but the shouts of the multitude increased to loud cheers when the heralds who rode at the head of the procession appeared and raised their long, glittering trumpets to their lips. behind them, on spirited stallions, rode the wedding marshals, members of royal families, in superb costumes with bouquets of flowers on their shoulders. now the tumult died away for a few minutes, and barbara felt as though her heart stood still, for the two stately men on splendid chargers who now, after a considerable interval, followed them, were the royal brothers, the emperor charles and king ferdinand. the man for whom barbara's soul longed, as well as her eyes, rode on the side toward her. he was still half concealed by dust, but it could be no one else, for now the outburst of enthusiasm, joy, and reverence from the populace reached its climax. it seemed as though the very trees by the wayside joined in the limitless jubilation. the greatness of the sovereign, the general, and the happy head of the family, made the protestants around him forget with what perils this monarch threatened their faith and thereby themselves; and he, too, the defender and loyal son of the church, appeared to thrust aside the thought that the people who greeted him with such impetuous delight, and shared the two-fold festival of his family with such warm devotion, were heretics who deserved punishment. at least he saluted with gracious friendliness the throng that lined both sides of the road, and as he passed by the garden of the little castle he even smiled, and glanced toward the building as though a pleasant memory had been awakened in his mind. at this moment barbara gazed into the emperor's face. those were the features which had worn so tender an expression when, for the first time, he had uttered the never-to-be-forgotten "because i long for love," and her yearning heart throbbed no less quickly now than on that night. the wrong and suffering which he had inflicted upon her were forgotten. she remembered nothing save that she loved him, that he was the greatest and, to her, the dearest of all men. it was perfectly impossible for him to see her, but she did not think of that; and when he looked toward her with such joyous emotion, and the cheers of the populace, like a blazing fire which a gust of wind fans still higher, outstripped, as it were, themselves, she could not have helped joining in the huzzas and shouts and acclamations around her though she had been punished with imprisonment and death. and clinging more firmly to the stalactite, barbara rose on tiptoe and mingled her voice with the joyous cheers of the multitude. in the act her breath failed, and she felt a sharp pain in her chest, but she heeded the suffering as little as she did the weakness of her limbs. the physical part of her being seemed asleep or dead. nothing was awake or living except her soul. nothing stirred within her breast save the rapture of seeing him again, the indescribable pleasure of showing that she loved him. already she could no longer see his face, already the dust had concealed him and his charger from her eyes, yet still, filled with peerless happiness, she shouted "charles!" and again and again "charles!" it seemed to her as though the air or some good spirit insist bear the cry to him and assure him of her ardent, inextinguishable love. the charming royal brides, radiant in their jewels, their betrothed husbands, and the lords and ladies of their magnificent train passed barbara like shadows. the procession of german, spanish, hungarian, bohemian, and italian dignitaries swam in a confused medley before her eyes. the glittering armour of the princes, counts, and barons, the gems on the heads, the robes, and the horses' trappings of the ladies and the magyar magnates flashed brightly before her, the red hats and robes of the cardinals gleamed out, but usually everything that her eyes beheld mingled in a single motley, shining, moving, many-limbed body. the end of the procession was now approaching, and physical weakness suddenly asserted itself most painfully. barbara felt only too plainly that it was time to leave her post of observation; her feet would scarcely carry her and, besides, she was freezing. she had entered the damp cave chamber in a thin summer gown, and it now seemed to be continually growing colder and colder. climbing down the high steps taxed her like a difficult, almost impossible task, and perhaps she might not have succeeded in accomplishing it unaided; but she had scarcely commenced the descent when she heard her name called, and soon after sister hyacinthe entered the frigidarium and, amid no lack of kindly reproaches, helped her to reach the open air. when even in the warm sunshine the chill did not pass away, barbara saw that the sister was right, yet she was far from feeling repentant. during the night a violent attack of fever seized her, and her inflamed throat was extremely painful. when dr. mathys came to her bedside he already knew from the nun the cause of this unfortunate relapse, and he understood only too well what had induced barbara to commit the grave imprudence. reproof and warnings were useless here; the only thing he could do was to act, and renew the conflict with the scarcely subdued illness. thanks to his indefatigable zeal, to the girl's strong constitution, and to the watchful care of the nurse, he won the victory a second time. yet he could not rejoice in a complete triumph, for the severe inflammation of the bronchial tubes had caused a hoarseness which would yield to none of his remedies. it might last a long time, and the thought that the purity of his patient's voice was perhaps forever destroyed occasioned sincere regret. true, he opposed the girl when she expressed this fear; but as july drew to its close, and her voice still remained husky, he scarcely hoped to be able to restore the old melody. in other respects he might consider barbara cured, and intrust her entire convalescence to her own patience and caution. perhaps the ardent desire to regain the divine gift of song would protect her from perilous ventures like this last one, and even more certainly the hope which she had confided to the nun and then to him also. the physician noticed, with warm sympathy, how deeply this mysterious expectation had influenced her excitable nature, ever torn by varying emotions, and the excellent man was ready to aid her as a friend and intercessor. unfortunately, just at this time the pressure of business allowed the emperor little leisure to listen to the voice of the heart. the day before yesterday the elector john frederick of saxony and the landgrave philip of hesse had been banned, and with this the war began. already twelve troops of spaniards who had served in hungary, and other bands of soldiers had entered ratisbon; cannon came up the danube from austria, and the city, had gained a warlike aspect. to disturb the emperor in his work as a general at such a time, with a matter which must agitate him so deeply, was hazardous, and few would have been bold enough to bring it before the overburdened monarch; but the leech's interest in barbara was so warm and sincere that he allowed himself to be persuaded to act the mediator between her and the man who had interfered so deeply in the destiny of her life. for the first time he saw her weep, and her winning manner seemed to him equally touching, whether she yielded to anxious distress of mind or to joyous hopes. his intercession in her behalf would permit no delay, for the emperor's departure to join the troops was close at hand. firmly resolved to plead the cause of the unfortunate girl, whose preservation, he might say, was his work, yet with slight hope of success, he crossed the threshold of the imperial apartments. when the physician informed the sovereign that barbara might be considered saved for the second time, the latter expressed his pleasure by a warm "we are indebted to you for it again "; but when mathys asked if he did not intend to hasten barbara's recovery by paying her a visit, though only for a few moments, the emperor looked into the grave countenance of the physician, in whom he noticed an embarrassment usually foreign to him, and said firmly, "unfortunately, my dear mathys, i must deny myself this pleasure." the other bowed with a sorrowful face, for barbara's dearest wish had been refused. but the emperor saw what was passing in the mind of the man whom he esteemed, and in a lighter tone added: "so even your invulnerable dragon hide was not proof against the shafts--you know! if i see aright, something else lies near your heart. my refusal--that is easily seen--annoys you; but, much as i value your good opinion, mathys, it is firm. the more difficult i found it to regain my peace of mind, the more foolish it would be to expose it to fresh peril. now, if ever, i must shun every source of agitation. think! with the banning, the general's work begins. how you look at me! well, yes! you, too, know how easy it is for the man who has most to do to spare a leisure hour which the person without occupation does not find, and neither of us is accustomed to deceive the other. besides, it would be of little avail. so, to cut the matter short, i am unwilling to see barbara again and awaken false hopes in her mind! but even these plain words do not seem to satisfy you." "by your majesty's permission," replied the leech, "deeply as i regret it for the invalid's sake, i believe, on the contrary, that you are choosing the right course. but i have only discharged the first part of my patient's commission. though i have no pleasant tidings to take back to her, i am still permitted to tell her the truth. but your majesty, by avoiding an interview with the poor girl, will spare yourself a sad, nay, perhaps a painful hour." "did the disease so cruelly mar this masterpiece of the creator?" asked the emperor. "with so violent a fever it was only too natural," replied the physician. "time and what our feeble skill can do will improve her condition, i hope, but--and this causes the poor girl the keenest suffering--the unfortunate inflammation of the bronchial tubes most seriously injures the tone of her clear voice." "ah!" exclaimed the startled emperor with sincere compassion. "do everything in your power, mathys, to purify this troubled spring of melody. i will repay you with my warmest gratitude, for, though the romans said that cupid conquered through the eyes, yet barbara's singing exerted a far more powerful influence over my heart than even her wonderful golden hair. restore the melting tones of her voice and, though the bond of love which rendered this month of may so exquisitely beautiful to us must remain severed, i will not fail to remember it with all graciousness." "that, your majesty, can scarcely be avoided," the physician here remarked with an embarrassment which was new in him to charles, "for the continuance of the memory of the spring days which your majesty recalls with such vivid pleasure seems to be assured. yet, if it pleases heaven, as i have learned to-day for the first time, to call a living being into existence for this purpose----" "if i understand you correctly," cried the emperor, starting up, "i am to believe in hopes----" "in hopes," interrupted the physician with complete firmness, "which must not alarm your majesty, but render you happy. this new branch of the illustrious trunk of your royal race i, who am only 30 a plain man, hail with proud joy, and half the world, i know, will do so with me." charles, with brows contracted in a gloomy frown, gazed for a long time into vacancy. the leech perceived how mighty a conflict between contradictory emotions would be waged in his breast, and silently gave him time to collect his thoughts. at last, rising from his arm-chair, the emperor struck the table with his open hand, and said: "whether the lord our god awoke this new life for our punishment or our pleasure the future will teach. what more must be done in this matter? you know my custom in regard to such important affairs. they are slept upon and maturely considered. only there is one point," and as he uttered the words his voice assumed an imperious tone, "which is already irrevocably decided. the world must not suspect what hope offers itself to me and another. tell her, mathys, we wish her happiness; but if her maternal heart expects that i will do her child the honour of calling it mine, i must require her to keep silence, and intrust the newborn infant's destiny, from the first hour of its birth, to my charge." here he hesitated, and, after looking the physician in the face, went on: "you again think that harsh, mathys--i see it in your expression--but, as my friend, you yourself can scarcely desire the world to see the emperor charles performing the same task with a barbara blomberg. she is free to choose. either i will rear the child, whether it is a boy or a girl, as my own, as i did my daughter, duchess margaret of parma, or she will refuse to give me the child from its birth and i must deny it recognition. i have already shared far too much with that tempting creature; i can not permit even this new dispensation to restore my severed relationship with the singer. if barbara's maternal love is unselfish, the choice can not be difficult for her. that the charge of providing for this new life will fall upon me is a matter of course. tell her this, mathys, and if in future--but no. we will confide this matter to quijada." as the door closed behind the physician, charles stood motionless. deep earnestness furrowed his brow, but suddenly an expression of triumphant joy flashed over his face, and then yielded to a look of grateful satisfaction. soon, however, his lofty brow clouded again, and his lower lip protruded. some idea which excited his indignation must have entered his mind. he had just been thinking with the warmest joy of the gift of fate of which the physician had told him, but now the reasons which forbade his offering it a sincere welcome crowded upon the thinker. if heaven bestowed a son upon him, would not only the church, but also the law, which he knew so well, refuse to recognise his rights? a child whose mother had offended him, whose grandfather was a ridiculous, impoverished old soldier, whose cousins---yet for what did he possess the highest power on earth if he would not use it to place his own child, in spite of every obstacle, at the height of earthly grandeur? what need he care for the opinion of the world? and yet, yet---then there was a great bustle below. the loud tramping of horses' hoofs was heard. a troop of lombardy cavalry in full armour appeared on the haidplatz--fresh re-enforcements for the war just commencing. the erect figure of the duke of alba, a man of middle height, followed by several colonels, trotted toward it. the standard-bearer of the lombards lowered the banner with the picture of the madonna before the duke, and the emperor involuntarily glanced back into the room at the lovely madonna and child by the master hand of giovanni bellini which his royal sister had hung above his writing table. how grave and lovely, yet how full of majesty, the christ-child looked, how touching a grace surrounded the band of angels playing on violins above the purest of mothers! then the necessity of appealing to her in prayer seized upon him, and with fervent warmth he besought her to surround with her gracious protection the young life which owed its existence to him. he did not think of the child's mother. was he still angry with her? did she seem to him unworthy of being commended to the protection of the queen of heaven? barbara was now no more to him than a cracked bell, and the child which she expected to give him, no matter to what high' honours he raised it, would bear a stain that nothing could efface, and this stain would be called "his mother." no deviation from the resolve which he had expressed to the physician was possible. the child could not be permitted to grow up amid barbara's surroundings. to prevent this she must submit to part from her son or her daughter, and to take the veil. in the convent she could remember the happiness which had once raised her to its loftiest height. she could and must atone for her sin and his by prayers and pious exercises. to return to the low estate whence he had raised her must appear disgraceful to herself. how could one who had once dined at the table of the gods still relish the fare of mortals? even now it seemed inconceivable to him that she could oppose his will. yet if she did, he would withdraw his aid. he no longer loved her. in this hour she was little more to him than the modest casket to which was confided a jewel of inestimable value, an object of anxiety and care. the determination which he had confided to his physician was as immovable as everything which he had maturely considered. don luis quijada should provide for its execution. chapter iv. dr. mathys had himself carried in the litter from the golden cross to barbara. this errand was a disagreeable one, for, though the emperor's remark that he had yielded to the rare charm of this woman was not true, his kindly heart had become warmly attached to barbara. for the first time he saw in her the suffering which often causes a metamorphosis in certain traits in a sick person's character extend their transforming power to the entire nature. passionate love for her art gave her the ability to maintain with punctilious exactness the silence which he had been compelled to impose upon her, and the once impetuous, obstinate creature obeyed his directions and wishes with the patience of a docile child. the manner in which, after he permitted her to speak, she had disclosed in a low whisper her happy yet disquieting secret, hovered before him now as one of the most pathetic incidents in a life full of varied experiences. how touchingly deep misery and the greatest rapture, gloomy anxiety and radiant joy, bitter dread and sweet anticipation, despairing helplessness and firm confidence had looked forth at him from the beautiful face whose noble outlines were made still more delicate by the illness through which she had passed! he could not have refused even a more difficult task to this petitioner. now he was returning from the emperor, and he felt like a vanquished general. in what form was he to clothe the bad news which he was bringing to the convalescent girl? poor child! how heavily she had to atone for her sin, and how slight was his own and every other influence upon the man, great even in his selfishness, who had had the power to render him a messenger of joy! while the physician was approaching the little castle, she of whom he was so eagerly thinking awaited his return with feverish suspense. yet she was obliged at this very time to devote herself to a visitor. true, he was the only person whom she would not have refused to see at this hour. wolf hartschwert was with her. his first errand after the period of severe suffering through which he had passed was to barbara, earnestly as old ursel had endeavoured to prevent him. he had found her under a linden tree in the garden. how they had met again! wolf, pale and emaciated, advanced toward her, leaning on a cane, while barbara, with slightly flushed cheeks, reclined upon the pillows which sister hyacinthe had just arranged for her. her head seemed smaller, her features had become more delicate and, in spite of the straw hat which protected her from the dazzling sunshine, he perceived that her severe illness had cost her her magnificent golden hair. still wavy, it now fell only to her neck, and gave her the appearance of a wonderfully handsome boy. the hand she extended to him was transparently thin, and when he clasped it in his, which was only a little larger, and did not seem much stronger, and she had hoarsely whispered a friendly greeting, his eyes filled with tears. for a time both were silent. barbara was the first to find words and, raising her large eyes beseechingly to his, said: "if you come to reproach me--but no! you look pale, as though you had only partially recovered yourself, yet kind and friendly. perhaps you do not know that it was through my fault that all these terrible things have befallen you." here a significant smile told her that he was much better informed than she supposed, and, lowering her eyes in timid embarrassment, she asked, "then you know who it was for whom this foolish heart----" here her breath failed, and while she pressed her hand upon her bosom, wolf said softly: "if you had only trusted me before! many things would not have happened, and much suffering might have been spared. you did wrong, wawerl, certainly, but my guilt is the greater, and we were both punished--oh, how sorely!" barbara, amid low sobbing, nodded assent, but he eagerly continued: "quijada confided everything to me, and if he--you know--now forgets all other matters in the war and the anxieties of the general, and, you need my counsel and aid, we will let what came between us he buried, and think that we are brother and sister." the girl held out her hand to him, saying: "how long you have been a brother to me! but, as for your advice--holy virgin!--i know now less than ever how i am to fare; but i shall soon learn. i can say no more. it must be a severe trial to listen to me. such a raven's croak from the throat which usually gave you pleasure, and to which you gladly listened! shall i myself ever grow accustomed to this discord? and you? answer honestly--i should like to know whether it is very, very terrible to hear." "you are still hoarse," was the reply. "such things pass away in a few weeks, and it will again be a pleasure to hear you sing." "do you really think so?" she cried with sparkling, eyes. "firmly and positively," answered the young knight in a tone of most honest conviction; but she repeated in joyous excitement, "firmly and positively," and then eagerly continued: "oh, if you should be right, wolf, how happy and grateful i would be, in spite of everything! but i can talk no longer now. come again to-morrow, and then the oftener the better." "unfortunately, that can not be, gladly as i would do so," he answered sadly, extending his hand in farewell. "in a few days i shall return to brussels." "to remain with the regent?" asked barbara eagerly. "no," he answered firmly. "after a short stay with her majesty, i shall enter the service of don luis quijada, or rather of his wife." "o-o-oh!" she murmured slowly. "the world seems wholly strange to me after my long illness. i must first collect my thoughts, and that is now utterly impossible. to-morrow, wolf! won't you come to-morrow? then i shall know better what is before me. thanks, cordial thanks, and if tomorrow i deny myself to every one else, i will admit you." after wolf had gone, barbara gazed fixedly into vacancy. what did the aspiring young musician seek with a nobleman's wife in a lonely spanish castle? were his wings broken, too, and did he desire only seclusion and quiet? but the anxiety which dominated her mind prevented her pursuing the same thought longer. dr. mathys had promised to tell her the result of his conversation with the emperor as soon as possible, and yet he had not returned. fool that she was! even on a swift steed he could not have traversed the road back to the castle if he had been detained only half an hour in the golden cross. it was impatience which made the minutes become quarters of an hour. she would have liked to go to the cool frigidarium again to watch for the physician's litter; but she was warned, and had accustomed herself to follow the doctor's directions as obediently as a dutiful child. besides, sister hyacinthe no longer left her alone out of doors, and possessed a reliable representative, who had won barbara's confidence and affection, in frau lamperi, the garde-robiere, whom the queen of hungary had not yet summoned. so she remained under the linden, and dr. mathys did not put her newly won virtue of patience, which he prized so highly, to too severe a trial. fran lamperi had watched for him, and hastily announced that his litter had already passed the reichart pottery. now barbara did not turn her eyes from the garden door through which the man she ardently longed to see usually came, and when it opened and the stout, broad-shouldered leech, with his peaked doctor's hat, long staff, and fine linen kerchief in his right hand advanced toward her, she motioned to the nun and the maid to leave them, and pressed her left hand upon her heart, for her emotion at the sight of him resembled the feeling of the prisoner who expects the paper with which the judge enters his cell to contain his death-warrant. she thought she perceived her own in the physician's slow, almost lagging step. his gait was always measured; but if he had had good news to bring, he would have approached more rapidly. a sign, a gesture, a shout would have informed her that he was bearing something cheering. but there was nothing of this kind. he did not raise his hat until he stood directly in front of her, and while mopping his broad, clamp brow and plump cheeks with his handkerchief, she read in his features the confirmation of her worst fears. now in his grave voice, which sounded still deeper than usual, he uttered a curt "well, it can't be helped," and shrugged his shoulders sorrowfully. this gesture destroyed her last hope. unable to control herself longer, she cried out in the husky voice whose hoarse tone was increased by her intense agitation: "i see it in your face, doctor; i must be prepared for the worst." "would to heaven i could deny it!" he answered in a hollow tone; but barbara urged him to speak and conceal nothing from her, not even the harshest news. the leech obeyed. with sincere compassion he saw how her face blanched at his information that, owing to the pressure of duties which the commencement of the war imposed upon him, his majesty would be unable to visit her here. but when, to sweeten the bitter potion, he had added that when her throat was well again, and her voice had regained its former melody, the monarch would once more gladly listen to her, he was startled; for, instead of answering, she merely shrugged her shoulders contemptuously, while her face grew corpselike in its pallor. he would have been best pleased to end his report here, but she could not be spared the suffering to which she was doomed, and pity demanded that the torture should be ended as quickly as possible. so, to raise her courage, he began with the emperor's congratulations, and while her eves were sparkling brightly and her pale cheeks were crimsoned by a fleeting flush, he went on, as considerately as he could, to inform her of the emperor's resolution, not neglecting while he did so to place it in a milder light by many a palliating remark. barbara, panting for breath, listened to his report without interrupting him; but as the physician thought he perceived in the varying expression of her features and the wandering glance with which she listened tokens that she did not fully understand what the emperor required of her, he summed up his communications once more. "his majesty," he concluded, "was ready to recognise as his own the young life to be expected, if she would keep the secret, and decide to commit it to his sole charge from its arrival in the world; but, on the other hand, he would refuse this to her and to the child if she did not agree to impose upon herself sacrifice and silence." at this brief, plain statement barbara had pressed her hands upon her temples and stretched her head far forward toward the physician. now she lowered her right hand, and with the question, "so this is what i must understand?" impetuously struck herself a blow on the forehead. the patient man again raised his voice to make the expression of the monarch's will still plainer, but she interrupted him after the first few words with the exclamation: "you can spare yourself this trouble, for the meaning of the man whose message you bear is certainly evident enough. what my poor intellect fails to comprehend is only--do you hear?--is only where the faithless traitor gains the courage to make me so unprecedented a demand. hitherto i was only not wicked enough to know that there-there was such an abyss of abominable hard-heartedness, such fiendish baseness, such----" here an uncontrollable fit of coughing interrupted her, but dr. mathys would have stopped her in any case; it was unendurable to him to listen longer while the great man who was the emperor, and whom he also honoured as a man, was reviled with such savage recklessness. as in so many instances, charles's penetration had been superior to his; for he had not failed to notice to what tremendous extremes this girl's hasty temper could carry her. what burning, almost evil passion had flamed in her eyes while uttering these insults! how perfectly right his majesty was to withdraw from all association with a woman of so irresponsible a nature! he repressed with difficulty the indignation which had overpowered him until her coughing ceased, then, in a tone of stern reproof, he declared that he could not and ought not to listen to such words. she whom the emperor charles had honoured with his love would perhaps in the future learn to recognise his decision as wise, though it might offend her now. when she had conquered the boundless impetuosity which so ill beseemed her, she herself would probably perceive how immeasurably deep and wide was the gulf which separated her from the sacred person of the man who, next to god, was the highest power on earth. not only justice but duty would command the head of the most illustrious family in the world to claim the sole charge of his child, that it might be possible to train it unimpeded to the lofty position of the father, instead of the humble one of the mother. hitherto barbara had remained silent, but her breath had come more and more quickly, the tremor of the nostrils had increased; but at the physician's last remark she could control herself no longer, and burst forth like a madwoman: "and you pretend to be my friend, pretend to be a fairminded man? you are the tool, the obedient echo of the infamous wretch who now stretches his robber hand toward my most precious possession! ay, look at me as though my frank speech was rousing the greatest wrath in your cowardly soul! where was the ocean-deep gulf when the perjured betrayer clasped me in his arms, uttered vows of love, and called himself happy because his possession of me would beautify the evening of his life? now my voice has lost its melting music, and he sends his accomplice to leave the mute 'nightingale'--how often he has called me so!--to her fate." here she faltered, and her cheeks glowed with excitement as, with her clinched hand on her brow, she continued: "must everything be changed and overturned because this traitor is the emperor, and the betrayed only the child of a man who, though plain, is worthy of all honour, and who, besides, was not found on the highway, but belongs to the class of knights, from whom even the proudest races of sovereigns descend? you trample my father and me underfoot, to exalt the grandeur of your master. you make him the idol, to humble me to a worm; and what you grant the she-wolf--the right of defence when men undertake to rob her of her young--you deny me, and, because i insist upon it, i must be a deluded, unbridled creature." here she sobbed aloud and covered her face with her hands; but dr. mathys had been obliged to do violence to his feelings in order not to put a speedy end to the fierce attack. her glance had been like that of an infuriated wild beast as the rage in her soul burst forth with elementary power, and the sharpness of her hoarse voice still pierced him to the heart. probably the man of honour whom she had so deeply-insulted felt justified in paying her in the same coin, but the mature and experienced physician knew how much he must place to the account of the physical condition of this unfortunate girl, and did not conceal from himself that her charges were not wholly unjustifiable. so he restrained himself, and when she had gained control over the convulsive sobbing which shook her bosom, he told her his intention of leaving her and not returning until he could expect a less hostile reception. meanwhile she might consider whether the emperor's decision was not worthy of different treatment. he would show his good will to her anew by concealing from his majesty what he had just heard, and what she, at no distant day, would repent as unjust and unworthy of her. then barbara angrily burst forth afresh: "never, never, never will that happen! neither years nor decades would efface the wrong inflicted upon me to-day. but oh, how i hate him who makes this shameful demand--yes, though you devour me with your eyes--hate him, hate him! i do so even more ardently than i loved him! and you? why should you conceal it? from kindness to me? perhaps so! yet no, no, no! speak freely! yes, you must, must tell him so to his face! do it in my name, abused, illtreated as i am, and tell him----" here the friendly man's patience gave out, and, drawing his little broad figure stiffly up, he said repellently: "you are mistaken in me, my dear. if you need a messenger, you must seek some one else. you have taken care to make me sincerely regret having discharged this office for your sake. besides, your recovery will progress without my professional aid; and, moreover, i shall leave ratisbon with my illustrious master in a few days." he turned his back upon her as he spoke. when toward evening the emperor asked him how barbara had received his decision, he shrugged his shoulders and answered: "as was to be expected. she thinks herself illused, and will not give up the child." "she will have a different view in the convent," replied the emperor. "quijada shall talk with her to-morrow, and de soto and the pious nuns here will show her where she belongs. the child--that matter is settled --will be taken from her." the execution of the imperial will began on the very next morning. first the confessor de soto appeared, and with convincing eloquence showed barbara how happily she could shape her shadowed life within the sacred quiet of the convent. besides, the helpless creature whose coming she was expecting with maternal love could rely upon the father's recognition and aid only on condition that she yielded to his majesty's expressed will. barbara, though with no little difficulty, succeeded in maintaining her composure during these counsels and the declaration of the servant of the holy church. faithful to the determination formed during the night, she imposed silence upon herself, and when de soto asked for a positive answer, she begged him to grant her time for consideration. soon after don luis quijada was announced. this time he did not appear in the dark spanish court costume, but in the brilliant armour of the lombard regiment whose command had been entrusted to him. when he saw barbara, for the first time after many weeks, he was startled. only yesterday she had seemed to wolf hartschwert peerlessly beautiful, but the few hours which had elapsed between the visit of the physician and the major-domo had sadly changed her. her large, bright eyes were reddened by weeping, and the slight lines about the corners of the mouth had deepened and lent her a severe expression. a hundred considerations had doubtless crowded upon her during the night, yet she by no means repented having showed the leech what she thought of the betrayer in purple and the demand which he made upon her. de soto's attempt at persuasion had only increased her defiance. instead of reflecting and thinking of her own welfare and of the future of the beloved being whose coming she dreaded, yet who seemed to her the most precious gift of heaven, she strengthened herself more and more in the belief that it was due to her own dignity to resist the emperor's cruel encroachments upon her liberty. she knew that she owed dr. mathys a debt of gratitude, but she thought herself freed from that duty since he had made himself the blind tool of his master. now the spaniard, who had never been her friend, also came to urge the emperor's will upon her. toward him she need not force herself to maintain the reserve which she had exercised in her conversation with the confessor. on the contrary! he should hear, with the utmost plainness, what she thought of the emperor's instructions. if he, his confidant, then showed him that there was one person at least who did not bow before his pitiless power, and that hatred steeled her courage to defy him, one of the most ardent wishes of her indignant, deeply wounded heart would be fulfilled. the only thing which she still feared was that her aching throat might prevent her from freely pouring forth what so passionately agitated her soul. she now confronted the inflexible nobleman, not a feature in whose clearcut, nobly moulded, soldierly face revealed what moved him. when, in a businesslike tone, he announced his sovereign's will, she interrupted him with the remark that she knew all this, and had determined to oppose her own resolve to his majesty's wishes. don luis calmly allowed her to finish, and then asked: "so you refuse to take the veil? yet i think, under existing circumstances, nothing could become you better." "life in a convent," she answered firmly, "is distasteful to me, and i will never submit to it. besides, you were hardly commissioned to discuss what does or does not become me." "by no means," replied the spaniard calmly; "yet you can attribute the remark to my wish to serve you. during the remainder of our conference i will silence it, and can therefore be brief." "so much the better," was the curt response. "well, then, so you insist that you will neither keep the secret which you have the honour of sharing with his majesty, nor----" "stay!" she eagerly interrupted. "the emperor charles took care to make the bond which united me to him cruelly hateful, and therefore i am not at all anxious to inform the world how close it once was." here don luis bit his lips, and a frown contracted his brow. yet he controlled himself, and asked with barely perceptible excitement, "then i may inform his majesty that you would be disposed to keep this secret?" "yes," she answered curtly. "but, so far as the convent is concerned, you persist in your refusal?" "even a noble and kind man would never induce me to take the veil." now quijada lost his composure, and with increasing indignation exclaimed: "of all the men on earth there is probably not one who cares as little for the opinion of an arrogant woman wounded in her vanity. he stands so far above your judgment that it is insulting him to undertake his defence. in short, you will not go to the convent?" "no, and again no!" she protested bitterly. "besides, your promise ought to bind you to still greater brevity. but it seems to please your noble nature to insult a defenceless, ill-treated woman. true, perhaps it is done on behalf of the mighty man who stands so far above me." "how far, you will yet learn to your harm," replied don luis, once more master of himself. "as for the child, you still seem determined to withhold it from the man who will recognise it as his solely on this condition?" barbara thought it time to drop the restraint maintained with so much difficulty, and half with the intention of letting charles's favourite hear the anguish that oppressed her heart, half carried away by the resentment which filled her soul, she permitted it to overflow and, in spite of the pain which it caused her to raise her voice, she ceased whispering, and cried: "you ask to hear what i intend to do? nothing, save to keep what is mine! though i know how much you dislike me, don luis quijada, i call upon you to witness whether i have a right to this child and to consideration from its father; for when you, his messenger of love, led me for the first time to the man who now tramples me so cruelly under his feet, you yourself heard him greet me as the sun which was again rising for him. but that is forgotten! if his will is not executed, mother and child may perish in darkness and misery. well, then, will against will! he has the right to cease to love me and to thrust me from him, but it is mine to hate him from my inmost soul, and to make my child what i please. let him grow up as heaven wills, and if he perishes in want and shame, if he is put in the pillory or dies on the scaffold, one mission at least will be left for me. i will shriek out to the world how the royal betrayer provided for the welfare of his own blood!" "enough!" interrupted don luis in mingled wrath and horror. "i will not and can not listen longer while gall and venom are poured upon the sacred head of the greatest of men." "then leave me!" cried barbara, scarcely able to use her voice. "this room, at least, will be mine until i can no longer accept even shelter from the traitor who--you used the words yourself--instilled venom and bitter gall into my soul." quijada, with a slight bend of the head, turned and left the room. when the door closed behind him, barbara, with panting breath and flashing eyes, threw herself into an arm-chair, content as if she had been relieved of a heavy burden, but the emperor's envoy mounted the horse on which he had come, and rode away. he fared as the leech had done the day before. barbara's infamous abuse still fired his blood, but he could not conceal from himself that this unfortunate woman had been wronged by his beloved and honoured master. in truth, he had more than once heard the ardent professions of love with which charles had greeted and dismissed her, and his chivalrous nature rebelled against the severity with which he made her suffer for the cruelty of fate that had prematurely robbed her of what had been to him her dearest charm. before he went to prebrunn, dr. mathys had counselled him not to forget during the disagreeable reception awaiting him that he was dealing with an irritable invalid, and the thoroughly noble man resolved to remember it as an excuse. the emperor charles should learn only that barbara refused to submit to his arrangements, that his harshness deeply wounded her and excited her quick temper. he was unwilling to expose himself again to an outburst of her rage, and he would therefore intrust to another the task of rendering her more docile, and this other was wolf hartschwert. a few days before he had visited the recovering knight, and obtained from him a decision whose favourable nature filled him with secret joy whenever he thought of it. wolf had already learned from the valet adrian the identity of the person to whom he had been obliged to yield precedence in barbara's heart, and how generously quijada had kept silence concerning the wound which he had dealt him. when don luis freely forgave him for the unfortunate misunderstanding for which he, too, was not wholly free from blame, wolf had thrown himself on his knees and warmly entreated him to dispose of him, who owed him more than life, as he would of himself. then, opening his whole heart, he revealed what barbara had been to him, and how, unable to control his rage, he had rushed upon him when he thought he had discovered, in the man who had just asked him to go far away from the woman he loved, her betrayer. after this explanation, quijada had acquiesced in the knight's wish that he should give him the office offered on that luckless evening, and he now felt disposed also to intrust to him further negotiations with the singer. in the report made to the emperor, don luis suppressed everything which could offend him; but charles remained immovable in his determination to withdraw the expected gift of fate, from its first entrance into the world, from every influence except his own. moreover, he threatened that if the blinded girl continued to refuse to enter the convent and yield up the child, he would withdraw his aid from both. after a sleepless night, however, he remarked, on the following morning, that he perceived it to be his duty, whatever might happen, to assume the care of the child who was entitled to call him its father. what he would do for the mother must depend upon her future conduct. this was another instance how every trespass of the bounds of the moral order which the church ordains and hallows entails the most sorrowful consequences even here below. precisely because he was so strongly attached to this unfortunate woman, once so richly gifted, he desired to offer her the opportunity to obtain pardon from heaven, and therefore insisted upon her retiring to the convent. his own guilt was causing him great mental trouble and, in fact, notwithstanding the arduous labour imposed upon him by the war, the most melancholy mood again took possession of him. the day before his departure to join the army which was gathered near by at landshut, he withdrew once more into the apartment draped with sable hangings. when he was informed that barbara wished to leave the prebrunn castle, he burst into a furious passion, and commanded that she should be kept there, even if it was necessary to use force. etext editor's bookmarks: whoever will not hear, must feel this ebook was produced by david widger <widger@cecomet.net> [note: there is a short list of bookmarks, or pointers, at the end of the file for those who may wish to sample the author's ideas before making an entire meal of them. d.w.] in the fire of the forge a romance of old nuremberg by georg ebers volume 8. chapter xv. day followed day, a week elapsed, and no message had reached schweinau from heinz schorlin or katterle. the magistrate had learned that the siebenburg brothers, with the robber knights who had joined them, were obstinately defending their castles and making it difficult for heinz schorlin to perform his task. the day before news had come that the absbach's strong mountain fortress had fallen; that the allied knights, in a sortie which merged into a miniature battle, had been defeated, and the siebenburgs could not hold out much longer; but in the stress of his duties the knight seemed to have forgotten to make the slightest effort in behalf of his faithful servant. at least the protonotary gottlieb, a friend of herr berthold, through whose hands passed all letters addressed to the emperor, positively assured them that, though plenty of military reports had arrived, in not a single one had the young commander mentioned his servant even by a word. he, the protonotary, had taken advantage of a favourable hour to urge his royal master, as a reward for biberli's rare fidelity, to protect him from further persecution by the citizens of nuremberg; but the emperor rudolph did not even allow him to finish, because, as a matter of principle, he refrained from interference in matters whose settlement rightfully pertained to the honourable council. when soon after herr pfinzing availed himself of a report which he had to deliver to the emperor to intercede himself for the valiant fellow, the hapsburg, with the ruler's strong memory, recalled the protonotary's plea and referred herr berthold to the answer the former had received, remarking, less graciously than usual, that the imperial magistrate ought to know that he would be the last to assail the privileges which he had himself bestowed upon the city. finally even burgrave frederick, whose sympathy had been enlisted in biberli's behalf by herr berthold, fared no better. his interests were often opposed to those of the council and, kindly as was his disposition, disputes concerning many questions of law were constantly occurring between him and the honourables. when he began to persuade the emperor to prevent by a pardon the cruelty which the council intended to practise upon a servant of sir heinz schorlin, who was doing such good service in the field, the sovereign told even him, his friend and brother-in-law, who had toiled so energetically to secure him the crown, that he would not interfere, though it were in behalf of a beloved brother, with the decrees of the council, and the noble petitioner was silenced by the reasons which he gave. the burgrave deemed the emperor's desire to maintain the honourables' willingness to grant the large loan he intended to ask to fill his empty treasury still more weighty than those with which he had repulsed herr pfinzing. on the other hand, the pardon granted to ernst ortlieb and wolff eysvogel could only tend to increase the good will of the council. the former was given at once, the latter only conditionally after the first losunger of the city, with several other honourables, had recommended it. the emperor thought it advisable to defer this act of clemency. a violation of the peace of the country committed under his own eyes ought not to be pardoned during his stay in the place where the bloody deed was committed. it would have cast a doubt upon the serious intent of the important measure which threatened with the severest punishment any attempt upon the lives and property of others. so long as the emperor held his court at nuremberg, wolff, against whom no accuser had yet appeared, must remain concealed. when the sovereign had left the city he might again mingle with his fellow-citizens. an imperial letter alluding to the gratitude which rudolph owed to the soldiers of marchfield, to whose band the evildoer belonged, and the whole good city of nuremberg for the hospitable reception tendered to him and his household, should shield from punishment the young patrician who had only drawn his sword in self-defence, and fulfil the petition of the council for wolff eysvogel's restoration to the rights which he had forfeited. the news of this promise gave els the first happy hour after long days of discomfort and the most arduous mental conflict. true, the measures adopted by her friends seemed to have guarded her from the attacks of the old countess rotterbach; but fran rosalinde, since she had been allowed more freedom to move about than her mother, who had been confined to the upper story, felt like a boat drifting rudderless down the stream. she needed guidance and, as els now ruled the house, asked direction from her for even the most simple matters. clinging to her like a child deserted by its nurse, she told her the most hostile and spiteful remarks which the countess never failed to make whenever it suited her daughter to bear her company. during the last few days the old lady had again won rosalinde over to her side, and in consequence an enmity towards els had sprung up, which was often very spiteful in its manifestations, and was the more difficult to bear, the more rigidly her position as daughter of the house forbade energetic resistance. but most painful of all to the volunteer nurse was the sick man's manner; for though herr casper rarely regained perfect consciousness, he showed his unfriendly disposition often enough by glances, gestures, and words stammered with painful effort. yet the brave girl's patience seemed inexhaustible, and she resolutely performed even the most arduous tasks imposed by nursing the sufferer. nay, the thought that wolff owed his life to him aided her always to be kind to her father-in-law, no matter how much he wounded her, and to tend him no less carefully than she had formerly cared for her invalid mother. so she had held out valiantly until, at the end of a long, torturing week, something occurred which destroyed her courage. on returning from an errand in the city, she was received at the door of the sick-room by her future mother-in-law with the statement that she would take charge of her husband herself, and no longer allow the intruder to keep her from the place which belonged to her alone. the old countess's power of persuasion had strengthened her courage, and the unwonted energy of the weak, more than yielding woman, exerted so startling and at the same time disheartening an effect upon the wearied, tortured young creature that she attempted no resistance. the entreaties of the leech and kind herr teufel, however, induced her to persist a short time longer. but when, soon after, the same incident occurred a second time, it seemed impossible to remain in their house even another day. without opposing her lover's mother, she retired to her chamber and, weeping silently, spite of the earnest entreaties of the sister of charity, packed the few articles she had brought with her and prepared to leave the post maintained with so much difficulty. to be again with eva under the protection of her uncle and aunt now seemed the highest goal of her longing. she did not wish to go home; for after his liberation from the tower her father had had a long conversation with wolff and old berthold vorchtel, and then, at the desire of the council, had ridden to augsburg and ulm to arrange the affairs of the eysvogel firm. he had felt that he could be spared by his family, knowing that his younger daughter was safe at schweinau, and having heard that wolff's pardon would not be long delayed. eva, too, had experienced toilsome days and many an anxious night. true, biberli and the carrier's widow, with her children, had been moved to the beguines' house, where she could pursue her charitable work safe from the rude attacks of the criminal inmates of the hospital; but what heavy cares had burdened her concerning the two patients for whom she was battling with death! how eagerly she watched for tidings from the neighbourhood of the siebenburgs! what hours of trouble were caused by the prior of the dominicans and his envoys, who strove to convince her that her intention of renouncing her conventual life was treason to god, and that the boldness with which she had released herself from the former guides of her spiritual life and sought her own way would lead her to heresy and perdition! how painful, too, was the feeling that she was being examined to discover whether the abbess kunigunde had any share in her change of purpose! the torture to which stronger men rarely succumbed seemed to threaten the life of the more delicate ex-schoolmaster. at first the leech otto, who, to please els and fran christine, and touched by the brave spirit of this humble man, had daily visited biberli, believed that he could not save him. on the straw pallet, and with the incompetent nursing at the hospital, he would have died very speedily, and what would have befallen his poor mangled toes and fingers in the hands of the barbers who managed affairs there? at the beguines the kindly, skilful old physician had bandaged his hands and feet as carefully as if he had been the most aristocratic gentleman, and no prince could have been more tenderly and patiently watched by trained nurses; for, wonderful to relate, eva, who had so willingly left her sick mother to her sister's care, and had often been vexed with herself because she could not even remotely equal els beside the couch of the beloved invalid, rendered the mangled squire every service with a touch so light and firm that the old physician often watched her with glad astonishment. caution, the quality she most lacked, seemed to have suddenly waked from a long slumber with doubly clear, far-seeing eyes. if it was necessary to turn the sick man, she paid special heed to every aching spot in his tortured body, and invented contrivances which she arranged with patient care to save him pain. her own bed had been placed in the widow's chamber next to biberli's, and from the night that her aunt christine had permitted her to remain in the beguine house, she, who formerly had loved sleep and slumbered soundly, had been beside the sick woman at the least sign. on the third day she rendered her, with her own hands, every service for which she had formerly needed a beguine's aid. she had possessed the gift of uttering words of cheer and comfort even to her invalid mother better than any one else, and often gave new courage to the suffering man when almost driven to despair by the anguish of pain assailing him in ten places at once. how kindly she taught him what comfort the sufferer finds who not only moves his lips and turns his rosary in prayer, as he had hitherto done, but commends himself and his pain to him who endured still worse agonies on the cross! what a smile of content rested on the lips of the man who, in the ravings of fever, had so often repeated the words "steadfast and true," when she told him that he had done honour most marvellously to his favourite virtue, represented by the t and st, and might expect his master's praise and gratitude! all these things fell from her lips more warmly the more vividly she conjured up the image of the man for whose sake the gallant fellow had endured this martyrdom, the happier it made her to help heinz, though without his knowledge, to pay the great debt of gratitude which he owed the faithful servitor. she was not aware of it, but the strongest of all educational powers--sorrow and love--were transforming the unsocial, capricious "little saint" into a noble, self-sacrificing woman. she was training herself to be what she desired to become to her lover, and the secret power whose influence upon her whole being she distinctly felt at each success, she herself called--remembering the last words of her dying mother--"the forge fire of life." at first it had been extremely painful for biberli to allow himself to be nursed with such devoted, loving care by the very person from whom he had earnestly endeavoured to estrange his master; but soon the warmest gratitude cast every other feeling into the shade, and when he woke from the light slumber into which he frequently fell and saw eva beside his bed, his heart swelled and he often felt as if heaven had sent her to him to restore the best gifts for which he was struggling--life and health. when he began to recover, the faithful fellow clung to her with the utmost devotion; but this by no means lessened his love for his master and his absent sweetheart. on the contrary, the farther his convalescence progressed the more constantly and anxiously he thought of heinz and katterle, the more pleasure it afforded him to talk about them and to discuss with eva what could have befallen both. it was impossible--biberli believed this as firmly as his nurse--that heinz could coldly forget his follower or katterle neglect what she had undertaken. so both agreed in the conjecture that the messengers sent by the absent ones had been prevented from reaching their destination. the supposition was correct. two troopers despatched by heinz had been captured by the siebenburgs, and the maid's messenger had cheated her by pocketing the small fee which she paid him and performing another commission instead of going to schweinau. of the knight's letters which had fallen into the wrong hands, one had besought the emperor rudolph to pardon the loyal servant, the other had thanked biberli, and informed him that his master remembered and was working for him. katterle had reached heinz, had been required to tell him everything she knew about eva and biberli down to the minutest detail and had then been commissioned to repeat to the latter what had been also contained in the letter. on the way home, however, she only reached schwabach, for the long walk in the most terrible anxiety, drenched by a pouring rain, whilst enquiring her way to heinz, and especially the terrible excitements of the last few days, had been too much even for her vigorous constitution. her pulse was throbbing violently and her brow was burning when she knocked at the door of apel, the carrier, who had taken her into his waggon at schweinau, and the good old man and his wife received and nursed her. the fever was soon broken, but weakness prevented her journeying to schweinau on foot, and, as apel intended to go to nuremberg the first of the following week, she had been forced to content herself with sending the messenger who had betrayed her confidence. how hard it was for katterle to wait! and her impatience reached its height when, before she could leave, some of the imperial troopers stabled their horses at the carrier's and reported that castle siebenburg and the robber stronghold of the absbachs were destroyed. sir heinz schorlin had fought like st. george. now he was detained only by the fortresses of the knights hirschhorn and oberstein, whose situation on inaccessible crags threatened long to defy the imperial power. the thought that the strong swiss girl might be ill never entered the mind of biberli or eva, but in quiet hours he asked himself which it would probably grieve him most to miss forever--his beautiful young nurse or his countrywoman and sweetheart. his heart belonged solely to katterle, but towards eva he obeyed the old trait inherent in his nature, and clung with the same loyalty hitherto evinced for his master to her whom he now regarded as his future mistress. this she must and should be, because already life seemed to him no longer desirable without her voice. never had he heard one whose pure tones penetrated the heart more deeply. and had heinz been permitted to hear her talk with the dominicans, he would have given up his wish to renounce the world and, instead of entering a monastery, striven with every power of his being to win this wonderful maiden, for whom his heart glowed with such ardent love. when she persisted in her refusal to take the veil because she had learned that it is possible in the world to live at peace with one's self, feel in harmony with god, and follow in love and fidelity the footsteps of the saviour, she had heard many a kindly word of admonition, many a sharp reproof, and many a fierce threat from the dominicans, but she did not allow herself to be led astray, and understood how to defend herself so cleverly and forcibly that his heart dilated, and he asked himself how a girl of eighteen could maintain her ground so firmly, so shrewdly, and with such thorough knowledge of the scriptures, against devout, highly educated men--nay, the most learned and austere. the abbess kunigunde had also appeared sometimes at his bedside, and eva's conversations with her revealed to him that she had obtained her armour against the dominicans from the sisters of st. clare. true, at first the former had laboured with the utmost earnestness to win her back to the convent, but two days before she had met two dominicans, and the evident efforts of one who seemed to hold a distinguished position among his brother monks to gain eva for his own order and withdraw her from the sisters of st. clare, whom he believed to be walking in paths less pleasing to god, had so angered the abbess that she lost the power, and perhaps also the will, to maintain her usual composure. therefore, yesterday she had opposed her niece's wish to remain in the world less strongly than before; nay, on parting with her she had clasped her in her arms and, as it were, restored her freedom by admitting that various paths led to the kingdom of heaven. this was balm to the convalescent's wounds; for he cherished no wish more ardent than to accompany his master to the marriage altar, where eva would give her hand to heinz schorlin as her faithful husband, and the abbess's last visit seemed to favour this desire. besides, he who had gazed at life with open eyes had never yet beheld a brave young warrior, soon after reaping well-earned renown, yearn for the monk's cowl. doubt, suffering, and a miraculous escape from terrible peril had inspired the joyous-hearted heinz with the desire to renounce the world. now, perhaps, heaven itself was showing him that he had not received the boon of life to bury himself in a monastery, but to be blessed with the fairest and noblest of gifts, the love of a woman who, in his opinion, had not her equal beneath the wide vault of the azure sky. countess cordula was not suited for his master. during the long hours that he lay quietly on his pallet a hundred reasons strengthened this opinion. the man for whom he had steadfastly endured such severe agony, and was suffering still, was worthy of a more beautiful, devout, and calm companion-nay, the very loveliest and best--and that, in his eyes, was the girl for whom heinz had felt so overmastering a passion just before his luckless winnings at the gaming table. this potent fire of love might doubtless be smothered with sand and ashes, but never extinguished. such were biberli's thoughts as he recalled the events of the previous day. he had found eva less equable in her tender management than usual. some anxiety concerning something apart from her patients seemed to oppress her. true, she had not wished to reveal it, but his eyes were keen. soon after sunrise that morning she had carefully rebandaged his crushed thumb, which was not yet healed. then she had gone away, as she assured him, for only a few hours. now the sun was already high in the heavens, yet she did not return, though it was long past the time for the bandages to be renewed, and the drops to be given which sustained the life of the dying minorite in the adjoining room. it made him uneasy, and when anxiety had once taken root in his heart it sent its shoots forward and backward, and he remembered many things in which eva had been different the day before. why had she whispered so long with herr pfinzing and then looked so sorrowfully at him, biberli? why had frau christine come not less than three times yesterday afternoon, and again in the evening? she had some secret to discuss with the surgeon otto. had any change taken place in his condition? and did the leech intend to amputate his thumb, or even his hand? but, no! only yesterday he had been assured that he could save all five fingers, and his sorely mangled left foot too. the widow was better, and all hope of saving the minorite's life had been relinquished two days ago. eva's anxiety must have some other cause, and he asked himself, in alarm, whether she could have received any bad news from his master or katterle? a terrible sense of uneasiness overpowered him, and the necessity of confiding it to some one took such possession of the loquacious man that he called little walpurga from the next room. but instead of running to his bedside, she darted forward with the joyful cry, "she is coming!" towards the door and eva. soon after the latter, leading the child by the hand, entered the room. biberli felt as if the sun were rising again. how gay her greeting sounded! the expression of her blue eyes seemed to announce something pleasant. whoever possessed this maiden would be sure to have no lack of light in his home, no matter how dark the night might be. he must have been mistaken concerning the anxiety which had seemed to oppress her on his account. instead of bad news, she was surely bringing good tidings. nay, she had the best of all; for katterle, eva told him, would soon arrive. but his future wife had been ill too. her cheeks had not yet regained their roundness or their bright colour. sharp-sighted biberli noticed this, and exclaimed: "then she is here already! for, my mistress, how else could you know how her cheeks look?" soon afterwards the maid was really standing beside her lover's couch. eva allowed them to enjoy the happiness of meeting undisturbed, and went to her other two patients. when she returned to the couple, katterle had already related what she had experienced in schwabach. it was little more than eva had already heard from her uncle and others. that seitz siebenburg, whom he bitterly hated, had fallen in a sword combat by his master's own hand, afforded biberli the keenest delight. no portion of the narrative vexed him except the nonarrival of the messengers, and the probability that some time must yet elapse ere heinz could sheathe his sword. eva's cheeks flushed with joy and pride as she heard how nobly her lover had justified the confidence of his imperial patron. but it seemed to be impossible to follow biberli's flood of eloquence to the end. she was in haste, and he had been right concerning the cares which oppressed her. she had stood beside his couch the day before with a heavy heart, and it required the exercise of all her strength to conceal the anxiety with which her mind was filled, for if she did not intercede for him that very day; if his pardon could not be announced early the following morning during the session of the court in the town hall, then the half-recovered man must be surrendered to the judges again, and otto believed that the torture would be fatal to his enfeebled frame. the tailor and his adherents, as eva knew from herr pfinzing, were making every effort to obtain his condemnation and prove to the city that they had not censured the proceedings of the ortlieb household as mere reckless slanderers. eva and her sister would be again mentioned in the investigation, and were even threatened with an examination. at first this had startled her, but she believed her uncle's assurance that this examination would fully prove her innocence before the eyes of the whole world. for her own sake eva surely would not have suffered herself to be so tortured by anxiety night and day, or undertaken and resolved to dare so much. the thought that the faithful follower whom her patient nursing had saved from death and to whom she had become warmly attached must now lose his life, and heinz schorlin be robbed of the possibility of doing anything for him, had cast every other fear in the shade, and had kept her constantly in motion the evening before and this morning. but all that she and her aunt christine had attempted in behalf of the imperilled man had been futile. to apply to the emperor again every one, including the magistrate, had declared useless, since even the burgrave had been refused. the members of the council and the judges in the court had already, at aunt christine's solicitation, deferred the proceedings four days, but the law now forbade longer delay. though individuals would gladly have spared the accused the torture, its application could scarcely be avoided, for how many accusers and witnesses appeared against him, and if there were weighty depositions and by no means truthful replies on the part of the prisoner, the torture could not be escaped. it legally belonged to the progress of the investigation, and how many who had by no means recovered from the last exposure to the rack were constantly obliged to enter the torture chamber? besides, the judges would be charged with partiality by the tailor and his followers, and to show such visible tokens of favour threatened to prejudice the dignity of the court. she had found good will everywhere, but all had withheld any positive promise. it was so easy to retreat behind the high-sounding words "justice and law," and then: who for the sake of a squire--who, moreover, was in the service of a foreign knight--would awaken the righteous indignation of the artisans, who made the tailor's cause their own. whatever the aunt and niece tried had failed either wholly or partially. besides, eva had been obliged to keep in the background in order not to expose herself to the suspicion of pleading her own cause. many probably thought that frau christine herself was talking ostensibly in behalf of the servant and really for her brother's slandered daughter. when eva met katterle in front of the hospital, she had passed without noticing her, so completely had sorrow, anxiety, and the effort to think of some expedient engrossed her attention. it had been very difficult to meet biberli with an untroubled manner, yet she had even succeeded in showing a bright face to the carrier's widow, as well as to father benedictus, whose hours seemed to be numbered, and who only yesterday had wounded her deeply. when she returned from the minorite's room to biberli's the lovers were no longer alone. the fresh, pleasant face of a vigorous woman, who had already visited the sufferer several times, greeted her beside his couch. when, in the exchange of salutations, her eyes met eva's the latter suddenly found the plan of action she had vainly sought. gertrude of berne could help her take the chance which, in the last extremity, she meant to risk, for she was the wife of the swiss warder in the burgrave's castle. it certainly would not be difficult for her to procure her an interview with the burgravine elizabeth. if the noble lady could not aid herself, she could--her cheeks paled at the thought, yet she resolutely clung to it--present her to her brother, the emperor. when eva, in a low tone, told frau gertrude what she hoped to accomplish at the castle, she learned that the emperor had ridden with the archduchess agnes and a numerous train to the imperial forest, to show his bohemian daughter-in-law the beekeeper's hives, and would scarcely return before sunset; but the burgravine had remained at home on account of a slight illness. nevertheless eva wished to go to the castle, and, whatever reception the noble lady bestowed upon her, she would return to schweinau as soon as possible. father benedictus was so ill that she could not remain away from him long. if the burgravine could do nothing for biberli, she would undertake the risk which made her tremble, because it compelled her, the young girl, to appear alone at the court with all its watchful eyes and sharp tongues. she would go to the fortress to beseech the emperor herself for pardon. she could act with entire freedom to-day, for her uncle had ridden to the city and, frau gertrude said, was one of the party who accompanied the emperor to the beekeeper's, whilst her aunt had just gone to nuremberg to see els, who had besought her, in a despairing letter, to let her come to schweinau, for her power of endurance was exhausted. how gladly eva would have accompanied her aunt to her sister to exhort her to take courage! what a strange transformation of affairs! ever since she could think els had sustained her by her superior strength and perseverance. now she was to be the stronger, and teach her to exercise patience. she thought she had gained the right to do so. whilst eva was still explaining her plan to frau gertrude, she herself perceived that she had taken no account of time. it was nearly noon, and if she ordered a sedan-chair to convey her to the city and back again to schweinau, it would be too late to approach the emperor as a petitioner. she could fulfil her design only by riding; but the warder's wife reminded her that it would be contrary to custom--nay, scarcely possible--to appear before the emperor, or even his sister, in a riding habit. but the young girl speedily found a way to fulfil her ardent wish to aid. on her swift palfrey, which her uncle had sent to schweinau long before that she might refresh herself, after her arduous duties, by a ride, she would go to the city, stop at her own home, and have her new expensive mourning clothes taken to the castle. the only doubt was whether she could change her garments in the quarters of the swiss, and whether frau gertrude would help her do so. the latter gladly assented. there was no lack of room in her apartments, nor did frau gertrude, who had served the burgravine as waiting maid many years before her marriage, lack either skill or good will. so she went directly home on her mule; but eva, after promising her patients to return soon, hastened to her uncle's residence. there she mounted the palfrey and reached the city gate a long time before the swiss. the clothes she needed were soon found in the ortlieb mansion, and she was then carried in a sedan-chair to the castle with her wardrobe, whilst the groom led her palfrey after her. countess cordula was not at home; she, too, had ridden to the forest with the emperor. the burgravine elizabeth willingly consented to receive the charming child whose fate had awakened her warm interest. she had just been hearing the best and most beautiful things about eva, for the leech otto had been called to visit her in her attack of illness, and the old man was overflowing with praises of both sisters. he indignantly mentioned the vile calumnies with which heinz schorlin's name was associated, and which base slander had fixed upon the innocent girls whose pure morality he would guarantee. the great lady, who probably remembered having directed heinz's attention to eva at the dance, understood very clearly that they could not fail to attract each other. of all the knights in her imperial brother's train, none seemed to the burgravine more worthy of her favour than her gay young countryman, whose mother had been one of the friends of her youth. she would gladly have rendered him a service and, in this case, not only for his own sake but still more on account of the rare fidelity of his servant, who was also a native of her beloved swiss mountains. yet, notwithstanding all this, it seemed impossible to bring this matter again before the emperor. she knew her husband, and after the rebuff he had received on account of the tortured man he would be angry if she should plead his cause with her royal brother. but her kind heart, and the regard which both eva and heinz schorlin had inspired, strengthened her desire to aid, as far as lay in her power, the brave maiden who urged her suit with such honest warmth, and the petitioner's avowal of her intention, as a last resort, of appealing to the emperor in person showed her how to convert her kind wishes into deeds. let eva's youth and beauty try to persuade the emperor to an act of clemency which he had refused to wisdom and power. after supper her brother received various guests, and she could present the daughter of a nuremberg patrician whom he already knew, and whose rare charms had attracted his notice. though she had been compelled to forego the ride to the forest, she was well enough to appear at supper in the emperor's residence, which was close to her own castle. when the meal was over she would take eva herself to her royal brother. she told her this, and the gratitude which she received was so warm and earnest that it touched her heart, and as she bade the beautiful, brave child farewell she clasped her in her arms and kissed her. chapter xvi. encouraged and hopeful, eva again mounted her palfrey, and urged the swift animal outside the city to so rapid a pace that the old groom on his well-fed bay was left far behind. but the change of dress, the waiting, and the numerous questions asked by the burgravine had consumed so much time that the poplars were already casting long shadows when she dismounted before the hospital. sister hildegard received her with an embarrassment by no means usual, but which eva thought natural when the former told her that the dying father benedictus had asked for her impatiently. the widow was doing well, and biberli would hardly need her; for the wife of a swabian knight in whose service he had formerly been was sitting by his couch with her young daughter, and their visit seemed to please him. eva remarked in surprise that she thought the sick man had never served any one except the schurlins, but she was in too much haste for further questions, and entered the room where biberli lay. her face was flushed by the rapid ride; her thick, fair hair, which usually fell loosely on her shoulders, had been hastily braided before she mounted her horse, but the long, heavy braids had become unfastened on the way, and now hung in tresses round her face and pliant figure. she waved her hand gaily from the threshold to the patient for whom she had done and dared so much; but ere approaching his couch she modestly saluted the stately matron who was with biberli, and nodded a pleasant welcome to her daughter, whose pretty, frank face attracted her. after the swabians had cordially returned her greeting, she briefly excused herself, as an urgent duty would not permit her to yield to her desire to remain with them. lastly, she addressed a few hasty questions to the squire about his health, kissed little walpurga, who had nestled to her side, bade her tell her another that she would come to her later, and entered the next room. "well?" biberli asked his visitors eagerly, after the door had closed behind her. "oh, how beautiful she is!" cried the younger lady quickly, but her mother's voice trembled with deep emotion as she answered: "how i objected to my son's marriage with the daughter of a city family! nay, i intended to cast all the weight of my maternal influence between heinz and the nuremberg maiden. yet you did not say too much, my friend, and what your praise began eva's own appearance has finished. she will be welcome to me as a daughter. i have scarcely ever seen anything more lovely. that she is devout and charitable and, moreover, has a clear intellect and resolute energy, can be plainly perceived in spite of the few minutes which she could spare us. if heaven would really suffer our heinz to win the heart of this rare creature----" "every fibre of it is his already," interrupted biberli. "the rub-pardon me, noble lady!--is somewhere else. whether he--whether heinz can be induced to renounce the thought of the monastery, is the question." he sighed faintly as he gazed into the still beautiful, strong, and yet kindly face of the lady wendula schorlin, sir heinz's mother, for she was the older visitor. "we ought not to doubt that," replied the matron firmly. "as the last of his ancient race, it is his duty to provide for its continuance, not solely for his own salvation. he was always a dutiful son." "yet," replied biberli thoughtfully, "'away with those who gave us life!' was the exhortation of father benedictus in the next room. 'away with the service of sovereign and woman!' he cried to our knight. 'away with everything that stands in the way of your own salvation!' and," biberli added, "st. francis was not the first to devise that. our lord and saviour commanded his disciples to leave father and mother and to follow him." "who will prevent his walking in the paths of jesus christ?" replied the lady wendula? "yet, though he follows his footsteps, he must and can do so as a scion of a noble race, as a knight and the brave soldier and true servant of his emperor, which he is, as a good son and, god willing, as a husband and father. he is sure of my blessing if he wields his sword as a champion of his holy faith. when my two daughters took the veil i submissively yielded. they can pray for heavenly bliss for their brother and ourselves. my only son, the last schorlin, i neither can nor will permit to renounce the world, in which he has tasks to perform which god himself assigned him by his birth." "and how could heinz part from this angel," cried maria--to whom, next to her mother, her brother was the dearest person on earth--"if he is really sure of her love!" she herself had not yet opened her heart to love. to wander through forest and field with the aged head of her family, assist her mother in housekeeping, and nurse the sick poor in the village, had hitherto been the joy and duty of her life. gaily, often with a song upon her lips, she had carelessly seen one day follow another until schorlin castle was besieged and destroyed, and her dear uncle, the knight ramsweg, was slain in the defence of the fortress confided to his care. then she and her mother were taken to the convent at constance. both remained there in perfect freedom, as welcome guests of the nuns, until the mounted courier brought a letter from the knight maier of silenen, her cousin, who wrote from nuremberg that heinz, like his sisters, intended to renounce the world. lady schorlin set out at once, and with an anxious heart rode to nuremberg with her daughter as fast as possible. they had arrived a few hours before and gone to their cousin from silenen. from him the lady wendula learned what her maternal love desired to know. biberli's fate brought her, after a brief rest, to the hospital, and how it comforted the faithful fellow's heart to see the noble lady who had confided his master to his care, and in whose house the t and st had been embroidered on his long coat and cap! lady wendula had remembered these letters, and when she spoke of them he replied that since he had partially verified what the t and st had announced to people concerning his character, and to which the letters had themselves incited him, he no longer needed them. then he lapsed into silence, and at last, as the result of his meditations, told his mistress that there was something unusual about his insignificant self, because he earnestly desired to practise the virtues whose possession he claimed before the eyes of the people. he had usually found the worst wine in the taverns with showy signs, and when the lady wendula's daughter had embroidered those letters on the cloth for him, what he furnished the guests was also of very doubtful quality. on his sick bed he had been obliged to place no curb upon his proneness to reflection, and in doing so had discovered that there was no virtue which can be owned like a house or a steed, but that each must be constantly gained anew, often amidst toil and suffering. one thing, however, was now firmly established in his belief: that his favourite virtues were really the fairest of all, because--one will answer for all --man never felt happier than when he had succeeded in keeping his fidelity inviolate and maintaining his steadfastness. he had learned, too, from fraulein eva that the redeemer himself promised the crown of eternal life to those who remain faithful unto death. in this confidence he awaited the jailers, who perhaps would come very soon to lead him into the most joyless of all apartments--the nuremberg torture chamber. then he told the ladies what he knew of the love which united heinz and eva. the four fs which he had advised his master to heed in his wooing --family, figure, favor, and fortune--he no longer deemed the right touch-tones. whilst he was forced to lie idly here he had found that they should rather be exchanged for four ss--spirituality, steadfastness, stimulation, and solace--for the eyes and the heart. all these were united in eva and, moreover, there could be no objection to the family to which she belonged. thereupon he had commenced so enthusiastic a eulogy of his beloved nurse and preserver that more than once lady wendula, smiling, stopped him, accusing him of permitting his grateful heart to lead him to such exaggeration that the maiden he wished to serve would scarcely thank him. yet eva's personal appearance had disappointed neither the experienced mother nor the easily won daughter. nay, when maria schorlin gazed at her through the half-open door of the minorite's room, because she did not want to lose sight of the girl who had already attracted her on account of her hard battle in the cause of love, and who specially charmed her because it was her heinz whom she loved, she thought no human being could resist the spell which emanated from eva. with her finger on her lip she beckoned to her mother, and she, too, could not avert her eyes from the wonderful creature whom she hoped soon to call daughter, as she saw eva standing, with eyes uplifted to heaven, beside the old man's couch, and heard her, in compliance with his wish, as she had often done before, half recite, half sing in a low voice the song of the sun, the finest work of st. francis. the words were in the italian language, in which this song had flowed from the poet heart of the saint of assisi, so rich in love to god and all animate nature; for she had learned to speak italian in the convent of st. clare, to which several italians had been transferred from their own home and that of their order and its founder. lady wendula and her daughter could also follow the song; for the mother had learned the beautiful language of the saint of assisi from the minnesingers in her youth, and in the early years of her marriage had accompanied the emperor frederick, with her husband, across the alps. so she had taught maria. as lady schorlin approached the door eva, with her large eyes uplifted, was just beginning the second verse: "praised by his creatures all praised be the lord my god by messer sun, my brother, above all, who by his rays lights us and lights the day. radiant is he, with his great splendour stored, thy glory, lord, confessing. "by sister moon and stars my lord is praised, where clear and fair they in the heavens are raised. "by brother wind, my lord, thy praise is said, by air and clouds, and the blue sky o'erhead, by which thy creatures all are kept and fed. "by one most humble, useful, precious, chaste, by sister water, o my lord, thou art praised. "and praised is my lord by brother fire-he who lights up the night; jocund, robust is he, and strong and bright. "praised art thou, my lord, by mother earth, thou who sustainest her and governest, and to her flowers, fruit, herbs, dost colour give and birth. "and praised is my lord by those who, for thy love, can pardon give and bear the weakness and the wrongs of men. "blessed are those who suffer thus in peace, by thee, the highest, to be crowned in heaven. "praised by our sister death, my lord, art thou, from whom no living man escapes. who die in mortal sin have mortal woe, but blessed are they who die doing thy will; the second death can strike at them no blow. "praises and thanks and blessing to my master be! serve ye him all, with great humility." how god was loved by this saint, who beheld in everything the most high had created kindred whom he loved and held intercourse with as with brother and sister! whatever the divine father's love had formed--the sun, the moon and stars, the wood, water and fire, the earth and her fair children, the various flowers and plants--he made proclaim, each for itself and all in common, like a mighty chorus, the praise of god. even death joins in the hymn, and all these sons and daughters of the same exalted father call to the minds of men the omnipotent, beneficent rule of the lord. they help mortals to appreciate god's majesty, fill their hearts with gratitude, and summon them to praise his sublimity and greatness. in death, whom the poet also calls his sister, he sees no cruel murderer, because she, too, comes from the most high. "and what sister," asks the saint, "could more surely rescue the brother from sorrow and suffering?" whoever, as a child of god, feels like the loving saint of assisi, will gratefully suffer death to lead him to union with the father. benedictus had followed the magnificent poem with rapture. at the lines, "but blessed are they who die doing thy will; the second death can strike at them no blow," he nodded gently, as if sure that the close of his earthly pilgrimage meant nothing to him except the beginning of a new and happy life; but when eva ended with the command to serve the lord with great humility, he lowered his eyes to the floor hesitatingly, as if not sure of himself. but he soon raised them again and fixed them on the young girl. they seemed to ask the question whether this noble hymn did not draw his nurse also to him who had sung it; whether, in spite of it, she still persisted, with sorrowful blindness, in her refusal to join the sisters of st. clare, whom the saintly singer also numbered amongst his followers. yet he felt too feeble to appeal to her conscience now, as he had often done, and bear the replies with which this highly gifted, peculiar creature, in every conversation his increasing weakness permitted him to share with her, had pressed him hard and sometimes even silenced him. true, they fought with unequal weapons. pain and illness paralysed his keen intellect, and difficulty of breathing often checked the eloquent tongue, both of which had served him so readily in his intercourse with heinz schorlin. she contended with the most precious goal of youth before her eyes, fresh and healthy in mind and body, conscious, in the midst of the struggle, against doubt and suffering, for what she held dearest of her own vigorous energy, panoplied by the talisman of the last mandate from the lips of her dying mother. benedictus, during a long life devoted to the highest aims, had battled enough. he already saw sister death upon the threshold, and he wished to depart in peace and reap the reward for so much conflict, pain, and sacrifice. the lord himself had broken his weapons. the minorite egidius, his friend and companion in years, must carry on with eva, father ignatius, the most eloquent member of the order in nuremberg, with heinz schorlin, the work which he, benedictus, had begun. though he himself must retire from the battlefield, he was sure that his post would not remain empty. the chant had placed him in the right mood to take leave of the brothers, whose arrival sister hildegard had just announced. since yesterday he had seen the saviour constantly before his mental vision. sometimes he imagined that he beheld him beckoning to him; sometimes that he extended his arms to him; sometimes he even fancied that he heard his voice, or that of st. francis, and both invited him to approach. to-day-the leech had admitted it, and he himself felt it by his fevered brow, the failing pulsations of the heart, and the chill in the cold feet, perhaps already dead--he might expect to leave the dust of the world and behold those for whom he longed face to face in a purer light. he wished to await the end surrounded only by the brothers, who were fighting the same battle, reminded by nothing of the world, as if in the outer court of heaven. eva, the beautiful yet perverse woman, was one of the last persons whom he would have desired to have near him when he took the step into the other world. speech was difficult. a brief admonition to renounce her earthly love in order to share the divine one whose rich joys he hoped to taste that very day was the farewell greeting he vouchsafed eva. when she tried to kiss his hand he withdrew it as quickly as his weakness permitted. then she retired, and father aegidius led the brothers of the order in nuremberg into the room. meanwhile it had grown dark, and the beguine paulina brought in a two-branched candelabrum with burning candles. eva took it from her hand and placed it so that the light should not dazzle her patient; but he saw her and, by pointing with a frowning brow to the door, commanded her to leave the room. she gladly obeyed. when she had passed the brothers, however, she paused on the threshold before going into the entry and again gazed at the old man's noble, pallid features illumined by the candlelight. she had never seen him look so. he was gazing, radiant with joy, at the monks, who were to give him the benediction at his departure. then he raised his dark eyes as if transfigured; he was thanking heaven for so much mercy, but the other minorites fell on their knees beside the bed and prayed with him. how lovingly the old man looked into each face! he had never favoured her with such a glance. yet no other nursing had been so difficult and often so painful. at first he had shown a positive enmity to her, and even asked sister hildegard for another nurse; but no suitable substitute for eva could be found. then he had earnestly desired to be removed to the franciscan monastery in nuremberg; this, however, could not be done because it would have hastened his death. so he was forced to remain, and eva felt that her presence was not the least thing which rendered the hospital distasteful. yet, as his aged eyes refused their service and he liked to have someone read aloud from the gospels which he carried with him, or from notes written by his own hand, which also comprised some of the poems of st. francis, and no one else in the house was capable of performing this office, he at last explicitly desired to keep her for his nurse. to anoint and bandage, according to the physician's prescription, his sore feet and the deep scars made on his back by severe scourging, which had reopened, became more difficult the more plainly he showed his aversion to her touch, because she--he had told her so himself--was a woman. she certainly had not found it easy to keep awake and wear a pleasant expression when, after a toilsome day, he woke her at midnight and forced her to read aloud until the grey dawn of morning. but hardest of all for eva to bear were the bitter words with which he wounded her, and which sounded specially sharp and hostile when he reproached her for standing between heinz schorlin and the eternal salvation for which the knight so eagerly longed. he seemed to bear her a grudge like that which the artist feels towards the culprit who has destroyed one of his masterpieces. often, too, a chance word betrayed that he blamed heaven for having denied him victory in the battle for the soul of heinz. schorlin which he had begun to wage in its name. true, such murmuring was always followed by deep repentance. but in every mood he still strove to persuade eva to renounce the world. when she confessed what withheld her from doing so, he at first tried to convince her by opposing reasons, but usually strength to continue the interchange of thought soon failed him. then he confined himself to condemning with harsh words her perverse spirit and worldly nature, and threatening her with the vengeance of heaven. once, after repeating the song of the sun, as she had done just now, he asked whether she, too, felt that nothing save the peace of the cloister would afford the possibility of feeling the greatness and love of the most high as warmly and fully as this majestic song commands us to do. then, summoning her courage, she assured him of the contrary. though but a simple girl, she, who had often been the guest of the abbess, felt the grandeur and glory of god as much more deeply in the world and during the fulfilment of the hardest duties which life imposed than with the sisters of st. clare, as the forests and fields were wider than the little convent garden. the old man, in a rage, upbraided her with being a blinded fool, and asked her whether she did not know that the world was finite and limited, whilst what the convent contained was eternal and boundless. another time he had wounded her so deeply by his severity that she had found it impossible to restrain her tears. but he had scarcely perceived this ere he repented his harshness. nothing but love ought to move his heart on the eve of a union with him whom he had just called love itself, and with earnest and tender entreaties he besought eva to forgive him for the censure which was also a work of love. throughout the day he had treated her with affectionate, almost humble, kindness. all these things returned to eva's thoughts as she left her grey-haired patient. he was standing on the threshold of the other world, and it was easy for her to think of him kindly, deeply as he had often wounded her. nay, her heart swelled with grateful joy because she had been so patient and suffered nothing to divert her from the arduous duty which she had undertaken in nursing the old man, who regarded her with such disfavour. a light had been brought into biberli's room too. when eva entered with glowing cheeks she found the swabians still sitting beside his couch. the door leading into the chamber of the dying man had been closed long before, yet the notes of pious litanies came from the adjoining room. lady schorlin noticed her deep emotion with sympathy, and asked her to sit down by her side. maria offered her own low stool, but eva declined its use, because she would soon be obliged to ride back to the city. she pressed her hand upon her burning brow, sighing, "now, now--after such an hour, at court!" lady wendula urged her with such kindly maternal solicitude to take a little rest that the young girl yielded. the matron's remark that she, too, was invited to the reception at the imperial residence that evening brought an earnest entreaty from eva to accept the invitation for her sake, and the swabian promised to gratify her if nothing occurred to prevent. at any rate, they would ride to the city together. biberli's astonished enquiry concerning the cause of eva's visit to the fortress was answered evasively, and she was glad when the singing in the next room led the swabian to ask whether it was true that the master of her suffering friend on the couch, who intended to devote himself to a monastic life, meant to enter the order of the minorite whom she had just left and become a mendicant friar. when eva assented, the lady remarked that members of this brotherhood had rarely come to her castle; but biberli said that they were quiet, devout men who, content with the alms they begged, preached, and performed other religious duties. they were recruited more from the people than from the aristocratic classes. many, however, joined them in order to live an idle life, supported by the gifts of others. eva eagerly opposed this view, maintaining that true piety could be most surely found in the order of st. francis. then, with warm enthusiasm, she praised its founder, asserting that, on the contrary, the saint of assisi had enjoined labour upon his followers. for instance, one of his favourite disciples was willing to shake the nuts from the rotten branches of a nut tree which no one dared to climb if he might have half the harvest. this was granted, but he made a sack of his wide brown cowl, filled it with the nuts, and distributed them amongst his poor. this pleased the mother and daughter; yet when the former remarked that work of this kind seemed to her too easy for a young, noble, and powerful knight, eva agreed, but added that the saint also required an activity in which the hands, it is true, remained idle, but which heavily taxed even the strongest soul. st. francis himself had set the example of performing this toil cheerfully and gladly. whilst giving this information she had again risen. sister hildegard had announced that her palfrey and the horses of the guests had been led up. finally eva promised to mount at the same time as the swabians, bade farewell to biberli, who looked after her with surprise, yet silently conjectured that this errand to the emperor was in his behalf, and then went into the entry, where sister hildegard told her that father benedictus had just died. the monks were still chanting beside his deathbed. brother aegidius, the friend and comrade of the dead man, however, had left them and approached eva. deeply agitated, he struggled to repress his sobs as he told her that the old man's longing was fulfilled and his saviour had summoned him. to die thus, richly outweighed the many sacrifices he had so willingly made here below during a long life. if eva had witnessed his death she would have perceived the aptness of the saying that a monk's life is bitter, but his death is sweet. such an end was granted only to those who cast the world aside. let her consider this once more, ere she renounced the eternal bliss for which formerly she had so devoutly yearned. eva's only answer was the expression of her grief for his friend's decease. but whilst passing out into the darkness she thought: the holy brother certainly had a beautiful and happy death, yet how gently, trusting in the mercy of her redeemer, my mother also passed away, though during her life and on her deathbed she remained in the world. and then --whilst father benedictus was closing his eyes--what concern did he probably have for aught save his own salvation, but my mother forgot herself and thought only of others, of those whom she loved, whilst the saviour summoned her to himself. her eyes were already dim and her tongue faltered when she uttered the words which had guided her daughter until now. the forge fire of life burns fiercely, yet to it my gratitude is due if the resolutions i formed in the forest after i had gathered the flowers for her and saw heinz kneeling in prayer have not been vain, but have changed the capricious, selfish child into a woman who can render some service to others. if heinz comes now and seeks me, i think i can say trustingly, "here i am!" we have both striven for the divine love and recognised its glorious beauty. if later, hand in hand, we can interweave it with the earthly one, why should it not be acceptable to the saviour? if heinz offers me his affection i will greet it as "sister love," and it will certainly summon me with no lower voice to praise the father from whom it comes and who has bestowed it upon me, as do the sun, the moon and stars, the fire and water. whilst speaking she went out, and after learning that frau christine and her husband had not yet returned, she rode with the swabians towards the city. in order not to pass through the whole length of nuremberg, eva guided her friends around the fortifications. their destination was almost the same, and they chose to enter at the thiergartnerthor, which was in the northwestern part of the city, under the hill crowned by the castle, whilst the road to schweinau usually led through the spitalthor. on the way lady wendula induced eva to tell her many things about herself, urging her to describe her father and her dead mother. her daughter maria, on the other hand, was most interested in her sister els, who, as she had heard from biberli, was the second beautiful e. eva liked to talk about her relatives, but her depression continued and she spoke only in reply to questions, for the minorite's death had affected her, and her heart throbbed anxiously when she thought of the moment that she must appear amongst the courtiers and see the emperor. would her errand be vain? must poor biberli pay for his resolute fidelity with his life? what pain it would cause her, and how heavily it would burden his master's soul that he had failed to intercede for him! not until lady schorlin questioned her did eva confess what troubled her, and how she dreaded the venture which she had undertaken on her own responsibility. they were obliged to wait outside the thiergartnerthor, for it had just been opened to admit a train of freight waggons. whilst eva remained on the high-road, with the castle before her eyes, she sighed from the depths of her troubled heart: "why should the emperor rudolph grant me, an insignificant girl, what he refused his sister's husband, the powerful burgrave, to whom he is so greatly indebted? oh, suppose he should treat me harshly and bid me go back to my spinning wheel!" then she felt the arm of the dignified lady at her side pass round her and heard her say: "cheer up, my dear girl. the blessing of a woman who feels as kindly towards you as to her own daughter will accompany you, and no emperor will ungraciously rebuff you, you lovely, loyal, charitable child." at these words from her kind friend eva's heart opened as if the dear mother whom death had snatched from her had inspired her with fresh courage, and from the very depths of her soul rose the cry, "oh, how i thank you!" she urged her nimble palfrey nearer the lady's horse to kiss her left hand, which held the bridle, but lady wendula would not permit it and, drawing her towards her, exclaimed, "your lips, dear one," and as her red mouth pressed the kind lady's, eva felt as if the caress had sealed an old and faithful friendship. but this was not all. maria also wished to show the affection she had won, and begged for a kiss too. without suspecting it, eva, on the way to an enterprise she dreaded, received the proof that her lover's dearest relatives welcomed her with their whole hearts as a new member of the family. on the other side of the gate she was obliged to part from the swabians. lady wendula bade her farewell with an affectionate "until we meet again," and promised positively to go to the reception at the castle. eva uttered a sigh of relief. it seemed like an omen of success that this lady, who had so quickly inspired her with such perfect confidence, was to witness her difficult undertaking. she felt like a leader who takes the field with a scanty band of soldiers and is unexpectedly joined by the troops of a firm friend. chapter xvii when arnold, the warder from berne, helped eva from the saddle, a blaze of light greeted her from the imperial residence. the banquet was just beginning. frau gertrude had more than one piece of good news to tell while assisting the young girl. among the sovereign's guests was her uncle the magistrate, who had accompanied the emperor to the beekeeper's, and with his wife, whom she would also find there, had been invited to the banquet. besides--this, as the best, she told her last--her father, herr ernst ortlieb, had returned from ulm and augsburg, and a short time before had come to the fortress to conduct jungfrau els, by the burgrave's gracious permission, to her betrothed husband's hiding place. fran gertrude had lighted her way, and a long separation might be borne for such a meeting. the ex-maid was obliged to bestir herself that eva might have a few minutes for her sister and wolff, yet she would fain have spent a much longer time over the long, thick, fair hair, which with increasing pleasure she combed until it flowed in beautiful waving tresses over the rich florentine stuff of her plain white mourning robe. the swiss had also provided white roses from the burgrave's garden to fasten at the square neck of eva's dress. the latter permitted her to do this, but her wish to put a wreath of roses on the young girl's head, according to the fashion of the day, was denied, because eva thought it more seemly to appear unadorned, and not as if decked for a festival when she approached the emperor as a petitioner. the woman whose life had been spent at court perceived the wisdom of this idea, and at last rejoiced that she had not obtained her wish; for when her work was finished eva looked so bewitching and yet so pure and modest, that nothing could be removed or--even were it the wreath of roses--added without injuring the perfect success of her masterpiece. lack of time soon compelled the young girl to interrupt the exclamations of admiration uttered by the skilful tiring woman herself, her little daughter, the maidservant, and the friend whom fran gertrude had invited to come in as if by accident. while following the warder's wife through various corridors and rooms, eva thought of the hour in her own home before the dance at the town hall, and it seemed as if not days but a whole life intervened, and she was a different person, a complete contrast in most respects to the eva of that time. before the dance she had secretly rejoiced in the applause elicited by her appearance; now she was indifferent to it--nay, the more eagerly the spectators expressed their delight the more she grieved that the only person whom she desired to please was not among them. how easy it had been to be led to the dance, and how hard was the errand awaiting her! her heart shrank before the doubt awakened by the flood of light pouring from the windows of the imperial residence; the doubt whether her lover would not avoid her if--ah, had it only been possible! --if he should meet her among the guests yonder; whether the eloquent father ignatius, who had followed him, might not already have won from the knight a vow compelling him to turn from her and summon all his strength of will to forget her. but, no! he could no more renounce his love than she hers. she would not, dare not, let such terrible thoughts torture her now. heinz was far away, and the fate of her love would be decided later. the cause of her presence here was something very different, and the conviction that it was good, right, and certain of his approval, dispelled the pain that had overpowered her, and raised her courage. unspeakably hard trials lay behind her, and harder ones must, perhaps, yet be vanquished. but she no longer needed to fear them, for she felt that the strength which had awakened within her after she became conscious of her love was still sustaining and directing her, and would enable her to govern matters which she could not help believing that she herself would be too weak to guide to their goal. she felt freed from her former wavering and hesitation, and as formerly in the modest house of the beguines, now in the stately citadel she realised that, in sorrow and severe trial, she had learned to assert her position in life by her own strength. her father, whom she was to meet presently, would find little outward change in her, but when he had perceived the transformation wrought in the character of his helpless "little saint" it would please him to hear from her how wonderfully her mother's last prophetic words were being fulfilled. she was emerging from the forge fire of life, steeled for every conflict, yet those would be wrong who believed that, trusting to her own newly won strength, she had forgotten to look heavenward. on the contrary, never had she felt nearer to her god, her saviour, and the gracious virgin. without them she could accomplish nothing, yet for the first time she had undertaken tasks and sought to win goals which were worthy of beseeching them for aid. love had taught her to be faithful in worldly life, and she said to herself, "better, far better i can certainly become; but firmer faith cannot be kept." wolff's hiding place was a large, airy room, affording a view of the frank country, with its meadows, fields, and forests. eva saw there by the light of the blazing pine chips her father, sister, and brother-inlaw. yet the meeting between all these beloved ones after a long separation partook more of sorrow than of joy. els had really resolved to leave the eysvogel mansion, yet she met her aunt christine with the joyful cry: "i shall stay! wolff's father and i have become good friends." in fact, a few hours before herr casper had looked at her kindly and gratefully, and when she showed him how happy this rendered her, warmly entreated her in a broken voice not to leave him. she had proved herself to be his good angel, and the sight of her was the only bright spot in his clouded life. then she had gladly promised to stay, and intended to keep her word. she had only accompanied her father, who had unexpectedly returned for a short time, because she could trust the nun who shared her nursing of the paralysed patient, and he rarely recognised his watcher at night. how long els had been separated from her lover! when eva greeted the reunited pair they had already poured forth to each other the events which had driven them to the verge of despair, and which now once more permitted them with budding hope to anticipate new happiness. eva had little time, yet the sisters found an opportunity to confide many things to each other, though at first their father often interrupted them by opposing his younger daughter's intention of going to the emperor as a supplicant. the girl whose wishes but a short time ago he had refused or gratified, according to the mood of the moment, like those of a child, had since gained, even in his eyes, so well founded a claim to respect, she opposed him in her courteous, modest way with such definiteness of purpose, biberli's fate interested him so much, and the prospect of seeing his daughters brought before the court was so painful, that he admitted the force of eva's reasons and let her set forth on her difficult mission accompanied by his good wishes. els had dropped her maternal manner; nay, she received her sister as her superior, and began to describe her work in the hospital to wolff in such vivid colours that eva laid her hand on her lips and hurried out of the room with the exclamation, "if you insist upon our changing places, we will stand in future side by side and shoulder to shoulder! farewell till after the battle!" she could not have given much more time to her relatives under any circumstances, for the burgravine's maid of honour who was to attend her to the reception was already waiting somewhat impatiently in frau gertrude's room, and took her to the castle without delay. the place where they were to stay was the large apartment adjoining the dining hall. the confidence which eva had regained on her way to her relatives vanished only too quickly in the neighbourhood of the sovereign and the sight of the formal reception bestowed on all who entered. her heart throbbed more and more anxiously as she realised for the first time how serious a step she had taken; nay, it was long ere she succeeded in calming herself sufficiently to notice the clatter of the metal vessels and the emperor's deep voice, which often drowned the lower tones of the guests. reverence for royalty was apparent everywhere. how much quieter this banquet was than those of the princes and nobles! the guests knew that the emperor rudolph disliked the boisterous manners of the german nobility. besides, the sovereign's mourning exerted a restraint upon mirth and recklessness. all avoided loud laughter, though the monarch was fond of gaiety and heroically concealed the deep grief of his own soul. when the lord high steward announced to the maid of honour who had brought eva here that dessert was served, the latter believed that the dreaded moment when she would be presented to the emperor was close at hand, but quarter of an hour after quarter of an hour passed and she still heard the clanking of metal and the voices of the guests, which now began to grow louder, and amidst which she sometimes distinguished the strident tones of the court fool, eyebolt, and the high ones of the countess cordula. time moved at a snail's pace, and she already fancied her heart could no longer endure its violent throbbing, when at last--at last--the heavy oak chairs were pushed noisily back over the stone floor of the dining hall. from the balcony of the audience chamber a flourish of trumpets echoed loudly along the arches of the lofty, vaulted ceiling of the apartment, and the emperor, leading the company, crossed the threshold attended by several dignitaries, the court jesters, and some pages. his august sister, the burgravine elizabeth, leaned on his arm. the papal ambassador, doria, in the brilliant robe of a cardinal, followed, escorting the duchess agnes, but he parted from her in the hall. among many other secular and ecclesiastical princes and dignitaries appeared also count von montfort and his daughter, the old first losunger of nuremberg, berthold vorchtel, and herr pfinzing with his wife. several guests from the city entered at the same time through another door, among whom, robed in handsome festal garments, were eva's new swabian acquaintances. how gladly she would have hastened to them! but a grey-haired stately man of portly figure, whose fur-trimmed cloak hung to his ankles--sir arnold maier of silenen, led them to a part of the hall very distant from where she was standing. to make amends, count von montfort and cordula came very near her; but she could not greet them. each person--she felt it--must remain in his or her place. and the restraint became stronger as the duchess agnes, giving one guest a nod, another a few words, advanced nearer and nearer, pausing at last beside count von montfort. the old huntsman advanced respectfully towards the bohemian princess, and eva heard the fourteen-year-old wife ask, "well, count, how fares your wish to find the right husband for your wilful daughter?" "of course it must be fulfilled, duchess, since your highness deigned to approve it," he answered, with his hand upon his heart. "and may his name be known?" she queried with evident eagerness, her dark eyes sparkling brightly and a faint flush tingeing the slight shade of tan on her child face. "the duty of a knight and paternal weakness unfortunately still seal my lips," he answered. "your highness knows best that a lady's wish--even if she is your own child--is a command." "you are praised as an obedient father," replied the bohemian with a slight shrug of the shoulders. "yet you probably need not conceal whether the happy man, who is not only encouraged, but this time also chosen by the charming huntress of many kinds of game, is numbered among our guests." "unfortunately he is denied the pleasure, your highness," replied the count; but cordula, who had noticed eva, and had heard the duchess agnes's last words, approached her royal foe, and with a low, reverential bow, said: "my poor heart must imagine him far away from here amid peril and privation. instead of breaking ladies' hearts, he is destroying the castles of robber knights and disturbers of the peace of the country." the duchess, in silent rage, clenched her white teeth upon her quivering lips, and was about to make an answer which would scarcely have flattered cordula, when the emperor, who had left his distinguished attendants, approached eva, with the burgravine still leaning on his arm. she did not notice it; she was vainly trying to interpret the meaning of cordula's words. true, she did not know that when no messenger brought heinz schorlin's intercession for biberli, in whose fate the countess felt a sincere interest, she had commanded her own betrothed husband to ride his horse to death in order to tell the master of the sorely imperilled man what danger threatened his faithful servant, and remind him, in her name, that gratitude was one of the virtues which beseemed a true knight, even though the matter in question concerned only a servant boemund altrosen had obeyed, and must have overtaken heinz long ago and probably aided him to rout the siebenburgs and their followers. but cordula read the young bohemian's child heart, and it afforded her special pleasure to deal her a heavy blow in the warfare they were waging, which perhaps might aid another purpose. the surprise and bewilderment which the countess's answer had aroused in eva heightened the spell of her beauty. had she heard aright? could heinz really have sued for the countess's hand and been accepted? surely, surely not! neither was capable of such perfidy, such breach of faith. spite of the testimony of her own ears, she would not believe it. but when she at last saw the emperor's tall figure before her, and he gazed down at her with a kind, fatherly glance, she answered it with her large blue eyes uplifted beseechingly, and withal as trustilly, as if she sought to remind him that, if he only chose to do so, his power made it possible to convert everything which troubled and oppressed her to good. the tearful yet bright gaze of those resistless eyes pierced the emperor's very soul, and he imagined how this lovely vision of purity and innocence, this rare creature, of whom he had heard such marvellous things from herr pfinzing during their ride through the forest, would have fired the heart of his eighteen-year-old son, so sensitive to every impression, whom death had snatched from him so suddenly. and whilst remembering hartmann, he also thought of his dead son's most loyal and dearest friend, heinz schorlin, who was again showing such prowess in his service, and had earned a right to recognition and reward. he did not know his young favourite's present state of mind concerning his desire for a monastic life, but he had probably become aware that his swiftly kindled, ardent love for yonder lovely child had led him into an act of culpable imprudence. besides, that very day many things had reached his ears concerning these two who suited each other as perfectly as heinz schorlin seemed--even to the hapsburg, who was loyally devoted to the holy church--unfit for a religious life. the emperor could do much to further the union of this pair, yet he too was obliged to exercise caution. if he joined them in wedlock as though they were his own children he might be sure of causing loud complaints from the priesthood, and especially the dominicans, who were very influential at the court of rome--nay, he must be prepared for opposition directed against himself as well as the young pair. the prior of the order had already complained to the nuncio of the lukewarmness of the superior of the sisters of st. clare, who idly witnessed the estrangement from the church of the soul of a maiden belonging to a distinguished family; and doria had told the sovereign of this provoking matter, and expressed the prior's hope that sir heinz schorlin, who enjoyed the monarch's favour, would be won for the monastic life. opposition to this marriage, which he approved, and therefore desired to favour, was also to be expected from another quarter. therefore he must act with the utmost caution, and in a manner which his antagonists could not oppose. at this reflection a peculiar smile, familiar to the courtiers as an omen of a gracious impulse, hovered around his lips, which during the past month had usually revealed by their expression the grief that burdened his soul and, raising his long forefinger in playful menace, he began: "aha, jungfrau eva ortlieb! what have you been doing since i had the boon of meeting so rare a beauty at the dance? do you know that you have caused a turmoil amongst both ecclesiastical and secular authorities, and that many a precious hour has been shortened for me on your account? you have disturbed both the austere dominican fathers and the devout sisters of st. clare. the former think the gentle nuns treat you too indulgently, and the latter charge the zealous followers of st. domingo with too much strictness concerning you. "and, besides, if you were not so well aware of it yourself, you would scarcely believe it: for the sake of an insignificant serving man, who is under your special protection, i, who carry the burden of so many serious and weighty affairs, am beset by those of high and low degree. how much, too, i have also suffered on account of his master, sir heinz schorlin-again in connection with you, you lovely disturber of the peace! to say nothing of the rest, your own father brings a charge against him. the accusation is made in a letter which meister gottlieb, our protonotary, was to withhold by herr ortlieb's desire, but through a welcome accident it fell into my hands. this letter contains statements, my lovely child, which i--nay, don't be troubled; the roses on your cheeks are glowing enough already, and for their sake i will not mention its contents; only they force me to ask the question--come nearer--whether, though it caused you great annoyance that a certain young swiss knight forced his way into your father's house under cover of the darkness, you do not hope with me, the more experienced friend, that this foolhardy fellow, misguided by ardent love, with the aid of the saints to whom he is beginning to turn, may be converted to greater caution and praiseworthy virtue? whether, in your great charity--which i have heard so highly praised--you would be capable"--here he paused and, lowering his voice to a whisper, added: "do me the favour to lend your ear--what a well-formed little thing it is!--a short time longer, to confide to the elderly man who feels a father's affection for you whether you would be wholly reluctant to attempt the reformation of the daring evil-doer yourself were he to offer, not only his heart, but the little ring with--i will guarantee it --his honourable, knightly hand?" "oh, your majesty!" cried eva, gazing at the gracious sovereign with an expression of such imploring entreaty in her large, tearful blue eyes that, as if regretting his hasty question, he added soothingly: "well, well, we will reach the goal, i think, at a slower pace. such a confession will probably flow more easily from the lips when sought by the person for whom it means happiness or despair, than when a stranger --even one as old and friendly as i--seeks to draw it from a modest maiden." here he paused; he had just recognised lady wendula schorlin. waving his hand to her in joyous greeting, he ordered a page to conduct her to him and, again turning to eva, said: "look yonder, my beautiful child: there is someone in whom you would confide more willingly than in me. i think sir heinz's mother, who is worthy of all reverence and love--" here surprise and joy forced from eva's lips the question, "his mother?" and there was such amazement in the tone that, as the lady wendula, bowing low, approached the emperor, after exchanging the first greetings which pass between old friends who have been long separated, he asked how it happened that though eva seemed to have already met the matron, she heard with such surprise that she was the mother of his brave favourite. lady wendula then confessed the name she had given herself, that she might study the young girl without being known; and again that peculiar smile flitted across the emperor rudolph's beardless face, and lingered there, as he asked the widow of his dead companion in arms whether, after such an examination, she believed she had found the right wife for her son; and she replied that a long life would not give her time enough to thank heaven sufficiently for such a daughter. the maiden who was the subject of this whispering, whose purport only a loving glance from the lady wendula revealed, pressed her hand upon her heart, whose impetuous throbbing stifled her breath. oh, how gladly she would have hastened to the mother of the man she loved and his young sister, who stood at a modest distance, to clasp them in her arms, and confide to them what seemed too great, too much, too beautiful for herself alone, yet which might crumble at a single word from her lover's lips like an undermined tower swept away by the wind! but she was forced to have patience, and submit to whatever might yet be allotted to her. nor was she to lack agitating experiences, for the emperor's murmured question whether she desired to hear herself called "daughter" by this admirable lady had scarcely called forth an answer, which, though mute, revealed the state of her heart eloquently enough, than he added in a louder tone, though doubtfully: "then, so far, all would be well; but, fair maiden, my young friend, unfortunately, was by no means satisfied, if i heard aright, with knocking at the door of a single heart. things have reached my ears--but this, too, must be----" here he suddenly paused, for already during this conversation with the ladies there had been a noise at the door of the hall, and now the person whom the emperor had just accused entered, closely followed by the chamberlain, count ebenhofen, whose face was deeply flushed from his vain attempts to keep sir heinz schorlin back. heinz's cheeks were also glowing from his struggle with the courtier, who considered it a grave offence that a knight should dare to appear before the emperor at a peaceful social assembly clad in full armour. his appearance created a joyful stir among the other members of the court--nay, in spite of the sovereign's presence, cordial expressions of welcome fell from the lips of ladies and nobles. the bohemian princess alone cast an angry glance at the blue ribbon which adorned the helmet of the returning knight; for "blue" was countess von montfort's colour, and "rose red" her own. the ecclesiastics whom heinz passed whispered eagerly together. the duchess agnes's confessor, an elderly dominican of tall stature, was listening to the provost of st. sebald's, a grey-haired man a head shorter than he, of dignified yet kindly aspect, who, looking keenly at heinz, remarked: "i fear that your prior hopes too confidently to win yonder young knight. no one walks with that bearing who is on the eve of renouncing the world. a splendid fellow!" "to whom armour is better suited than the cowl," observed the bishop of bamberg, a middleaged prelate of aristocratic appearance, approaching the others. "your prior, my dear brothers, would have little pleasure, i think, in the fish he is so eagerly trying to drag from the minorite's net into his own. he would leap ashore again all too quickly. he is not fit for the monastery. he would do better for a priest, and i would bid him welcome as a military brother in office." "bold enough he certainly is," added the dominican. "i would not advise every one to enter the emperor's presence and this distinguished gathering in such attire." in fact, heinz showed plainly that he had come directly from the battlefield and the saddle, for a suit of stout chain armour, which covered the greater part of his tolerably long tunic, encased his limbs, and even the helmet which he bore on his arm, spite of the blue ribbon that adorned it, was by no means one of the delicate, costly ones worn in the tournament. besides, many a bruise showed that hard blows and thrusts had been dealt him. chapter xviii. at heinz schorlin's quarters the day before his young hostess, frau barbel, had had the costly armour entrusted to her care, and the trappings belonging to it, cleaned and put in order, but her labour was vain; for heinz schorlin had ridden directly to the fortress from schweinau, without stopping at his lodgings in the city. only a short time before he had learned that his two messengers had been captured and failed to reach their destination. he owed this information to sir boemund altrosen--and many another piece of news which cordula had given him. the main portion of heinz schorlin's task was completed when the countess's ambassador reached him, so he set out on his homeward way at once, and this time his silent friend had been eloquent and told him everything which had occurred during his absence. he now knew that boemund and cordula had plighted their troth, what the faithful biberli had done and suffered for him, and lastly--even to the minutest detail--the wonderful transformation in eva. when he had ridden forth he had hoped to learn to renounce her whom he loved with all the might of his fervid soul, and to bring himself to close his career as a soldier with this successful campaign; but whilst he destroyed castles and attacked the foe, former wishes were stilled, and a new desire and new convictions took their place. he could not give up the profession of arms, which all who bore the name of schorlin had practised from time immemorial, and to resign the love which united him to eva was impossible. she must become his, though she resembled an april day, and biberli's tales of the danger which threatened the husband from a sleep-walking wife returned more than once to his memory. yet what beautiful april days he had experienced, and though eva might have many faults, the devout child, with her angel beauty, certainly did not lack the will to do what was right and pleasing to god. when she was once his she should become so good that even his mother at home would approve his choice. he had wholly renounced the idea of going into the monastery. the minorite ignatius, whom father benedictus had sent after him that he might finish the work which the latter had begun, was a man who lacked neither intellect nor eloquence; but he did not possess the fiery enthusiasm and aristocratic confidence of the dead man. yet when the zealous monks, whom the prior of the dominicans had despatched to complete heinz's conversion, opposed him, the former entered into such sharp and angry arguments with them that the young knight, who witnessed more than one of their quarrels, startled and repelled, soon held aloof from all three and told them that he had resolved to remain in the world, and his onerous office gave him no time to listen to their well-meant admonitions. he was not created for the monastery. if heaven had vouchsafed him a miracle, it was done to preserve his life that--as eva desired--he might fight to the last drop of his blood for the church, his holy faith, and the beloved emperor. but if he remained in the world, eva would do the same; they belonged to each other inseparably. why, he could not have explained, but the voice which constantly reiterated it could not lie. after he had slain seitz siebenburg in the sword combat, and destroyed his brother's castle, his resolve to woo eva became absolutely fixed. his heart dictated this, but honour, too, commanded him to restore to the maiden and her sister the fair fame which his passionate impetuosity had injured. during the rapid ride which he and boemund altrosen took to nuremberg he had stopped at schweinau hospital, and found in biberli, eva's former enemy, her most enthusiastic panegyrist. heinz also heard from him how quickly she had won the hearts of his mother and maria, and that he would find all three at the fortress. lastly, sister hildegard had informed him of the great peril threatening his beloved faithful servant and companion, "old biber," which had led eva there to appeal to the emperor. beside the body of father benedictus he learned how beautiful had been the death of the old man who had so honestly striven to lead him into the path which he believed was the right one for him to tread. in a brief prayer beside his devout friend heinz expressed his gratitude, and called upon him to witness that, even in the world, he would not forget the shortness of this earthly pilgrimage, but would also provide for the other life which endured forever. true, heinz had but a few short moments to devote to this farewell, the cause of the faithful follower who, unasked, had unselfishly endured unutterable tortures for him, took precedence of everything else and would permit no delay. when the knight, with his figure drawn up to its full height, strode hastily into the royal hall, he beheld with joyful emotion those who were most dear to him, for whose presence he had longed most fervently during the ride--his mother, eva, his sister, and the imperial friend he loved so warmly. overwhelmed by agitation, he flung himself on his knees before his master, kissing his hand and his robe, but the emperor ordered him to rise and cordially greeted him. before speaking to his relatives, heinz informed the monarch that he had successfully executed his commission and, receiving a few words of thanks and appreciation, modestly but with urgent warmth entreated the emperor, if he was satisfied with his work, instead of any other reward, to save from further persecution the faithful servant who for his sake had borne the most terrible torture. the face of the sovereign, who had welcomed heinz as if he were a longabsent son, assumed a graver expression, and his tone seemed to vibrate with a slight touch of indignation, as he exclaimed: "first, let us settle your own affairs. serious charges have been made against you, my son, as well as against your servant, on whose account i have been so tormented. a father, who is one of the leading men in this city, accuses you of having destroyed his daughter's good name by forcing yourself into his house after assuring his child of your love." heinz turned to eva, to protest that he was here to atone for the wrong he had done her, but the emperor would not permit him to speak. it was important to silence at once any objection which could be made against the marriage by ecclesiastical and secular foes; therefore, eagerly as he desired to enjoy the happiness of the young pair, he forced himself to maintain the expression of grave dissatisfaction which he had assumed, and ordered a page to summon the imperial magistrate, the first losunger of the city, and his protonotary, who were all amongst the guests, and, lastly, the duchess agnes. he could read the latter's child eyes like the clear characters of a book, and neither the radiant glow on her face at heinz schorlin's entrance nor her hostile glance at the countess von montfort had escaped his notice. both her affection and her jealous resentment should serve him. the young bohemian now thought herself certain that heinz schorlin, and no other, was cordula's chosen knight; the countess, at his entrance, had exclaimed to her father loudly enough, "here he is again!" when the princess stood before the emperor, with the gentlemen whom he had summoned, he asked her to decide the important question. "yonder knight--he motioned towards heinz--had been guilty of an act which could scarcely be justified. though he had wooed the daughter of a noble nuremberg family, and even forced his way into her father's house, he had apparently forgotten the poor girl. "and," cried the young wife indignantly, "the unprincipled man has not only made a declaration of love to another, but formally asked her hand." "that would seem like him," said the emperor. "but we must not close our ears to the charge of the nuremberg honourable. his daughter, a lovely, modest maiden of excellent repute, has been seriously injured by heinz schorlin, and so i beg you, child, to tell us, with the keen appreciation of the rights and duties of a lady which is peculiar to you, what sentence, in your opinion, should be imposed upon sir heinz schorlin to atone for the wrong he has done to the young nuremberg maiden." he beckoned to the protonotary, as he spoke, to command him to show ernst ortlieb's accusation to the duchess, but she seemed to have practised the art of reading admirably; for, more quickly than it would otherwise have appeared possible to grasp the meaning of even the first sentences, she exclaimed, drawing herself up to her full height and gazing at cordula with haughty superiority: "there is but one decision here, if the morality of this noble city is to be preserved and the maiden daughters of her patrician families secured henceforward from the misfortune of being a plaything for the wanton levity of reckless heart breakers. but this decision, on which i firmly and resolutely insist, as lady and princess, in the name of my whole sex and of all knightly men who, with me, prize the reverence and inviolable fidelity due a lady, is: sir heinz schorlin must ask the honourable gentleman who, with full justice, brought this complaint to your imperial majesty, for his daughter's hand and, if the sorely injured maiden vouchsafes to accept it, lead her to the marriage altar before god and the world." "spoken according to the feelings of my own heart," replied the emperor and, turning to the citizens of nuremberg, he added: "so i ask you, gentlemen, who are familiar with the laws and customs of this good city and direct the administration of her justice, will such a marriage remove the complaint made against sir heinz schorlin and his servant?" "it will," replied old herr berthold vorchtel, gravely and firmly. herr pfinzing also assented, it is true, but added earnestly that an unfortunate meeting had caused another to suffer even more severely than eva from the knight's imprudence. this was her older sister, the betrothed bride of young eysvogel. for her sake, as well as to make the bond between sir heinz schorlin and the younger jungfrau ortlieb valid, the father's consent was necessary. if his imperial majesty desired to bring to a beautiful end, that very day, the gracious work so auspiciously commenced there was no obstacle in the way, for ernst ortlieb was at the von zollern castle with the daughter who had been so basely slandered. the emperor asked in surprise how they came there, and then ordered eva's father and sister to be brought to him. he was eager to make the acquaintance of the second beautiful e. "and wolff eysvogel?" asked the magistrate. "we agreed to release him after we had turned our back on nuremberg," replied the sovereign. "much as we have heard in praise of this young man, gladly as we have shown him how gratefully we prize the blood a brave man shed for us upon the marchfield, no change can be made in what, by virtue of our imperial word----" "certainly not, little brother," interrupted the court fool, eyebolt, "but for that very reason you must open the eysvogel's cage as quickly as possible and let him fly hither, for on the ride to the beekeeper's you crossed in your own seven-foot tall body the limits of this good city, whose length does not greatly surpass it--your imperial person, i mean. so you as certainly turned your back upon it as you stand in front of things which lie behind you. and as an emperor's word cannot have as much added or subtracted as a fly carries off on its tail, if it has one, you, little brother, are obliged and bound to have the strange monster, which is at once a wolf and a bird, immediately released and summoned hither." "not amiss," laughed the emperor, "if the boundaries of nuremberg saw our back for even so brief a space as it needs to make a wise man a fool. "we will follow your counsel, eyebolt.--herr pfinzing, tell young eysvogel that the emperor's pardon has ended his punishment. the breach of the country's peace may be forgiven the man who so heroically aided the battle for peace." then turning to meister gottlieb, the protonotary, he whispered so low that he alone could hear the command, that he should commit to paper a form of words which would give the bond between heinz schorlin and eva ortlieb sufficient legal power to resist both secular authority and that of the dominicans and sisters of st. clare. during this conference court etiquette had prevented the company from exchanging any remarks. whatever one person might desire to say to another he was forced to entrust to the mute language of the eyes, and a sportive impulse induced emperor rudolph to maintain the spell which held apart those who were most strongly attracted to each other. meantime, whilst he was talking with the protonotary, the bolder guests ventured to move about more freely, and of them all cordula imposed the least restraint upon herself. ere heinz had found time to address a word to eva or to greet his mother she glided swiftly to his side and, with an angry expression on her face, whispered: "if heaven bestowed the greatest happiness upon the most deserving, you must be the most favoured of mortals, for a more exquisite masterpiece than your future wife--i know her--was never created. but now open your ears and follow my advice: do not reveal the state of your heart until you have left the castle so far behind that you are out of sight of the bohemian princess, or your ship of happiness may be wrecked within sight of port." then, with a well-assumed air of indignation, she abruptly turned her back upon him. after moving away, she intentionally remained standing near the duchess, with drooping head. the latter hastily approached her, saying with admirably simulated earnestness: "you, countess, will probably be the last to refuse your approval of my interference against our knightly butterfly and in behalf of the poor inexperienced girl, his victim." "if that is your highness's opinion," replied cordula, shrugging her shoulders as if it were necessary to submit to the inevitable, "for my part i fear your kind solicitude may send me behind convent walls." "countess von montfort a nun!" cried the child wife, laughing. "if it were sir heinz schorlin to whom you just alluded, you, too, are among the deluded ones whom we must pity, yet with prudent foresight you provided compensation long ago. instead of burying yourself in a convent, you, whom so many desire, would do better to beckon to one of your admirers and bestow on him the happiness of which the other was not worthy." cordula fixed her eyes thoughtfully on the floor a short time, then, as if the advice had met with her approval, exclaimed: "your royal highness's mature wisdom has found the right expedient this time also. i am not fit for the veil. perhaps you may hear news of me to-morrow. by that time my choice will be determined. what would you say to the dark-haired altrosen?" "a brave champion!" replied the bohemian, and this time the laugh which accompanied her words came from the heart. "try him, in the name of all the saints! but look at sir heinz schorlin! a gloomy face for a happy man! he does not seem quite pleased with our verdict." she beckoned, as she spoke, to her chamberlain and the high steward, took leave of her imperial father-in-law and, with her pretty little head flung proudly back, rustled out of the hall. soon after herr pfinzing ushered ernst ortlieb, his daughter, and wolff into the presence of the sovereign, who gazed as if restored to youth at the handsome couple whose weal or woe was in his hands. this consciousness afforded him one of the moments when he gratefully felt the full beauty and dignity of his responsible position. with friendly words he restored wolff's liberty, and expressed the expectation that, with such a companion, he would raise the noble house of his ancestors to fresh prosperity. when he at last turned to heinz again he asked in a low tone: "do you know what this day means to me?" "nineteen years ago it gave you poor hartmann," replied the knight, his downcast eyes resting sadly on the floor. the kind-hearted sovereign nodded significantly, and said, "then it must benefit those who, so long as he lives, may expect his father's favour." he gazed thoughtfully into vacancy and, faithful to his habit of fixing his eye on a goal, often distant, and then carefully carrying out the details which were to ensure success, ere he turned to the next one, he summoned the imperial magistrate and the first losunger to his side. after disclosing to them his desire to allow the judges to decide and, should the verdict go against biberli, release him from punishment by a pardon, both undertook to justify the absence of the accused from the trial. the wise caution with which the emperor rudolph avoided interfering with the rights of the honourable council afforded old herr berthold vorchtel great satisfaction. both he and the magistrate, sure of the result, could promise that this affair, which had aroused so much excitement, especially among the artisans, would be ended by the marriage of the two ortlieb sisters and the payment of the blood money to the wounded tailor. any new complaint concerning them would then be lawfully rejected by both court and magistrate. never had heinz thanked his imperial benefactor more warmly for any gift, but though the emperor received his gallant favourite's expressions of gratitude and appreciation kindly, he did not yet permit him to enjoy his new happiness. there were still some things which must be decided, and for the third time his peculiar smile showed the initiated that he was planning some pleasant surprise for those whom it concerned. the mention of the blood money which herr ernst ortlieb owed the slandering tailor, who had not yet recovered from his wound, induced the emperor to look at the father of the beautiful sisters. he knew that herr ernst had also lost a valiant son in the battle of marchfield, and eva's father had been described as an excellent man, but one with whom it was difficult to deal. now, spite of the new happiness of his children, the sovereign saw him glance gloomily, as if some wrong had been done him, from his daughters to heinz, and then to lady schorlin and maria, to whom he had not yet been presented. he doubtless felt that the emperor had treated him and his family with rare graciousness, and was entitled to their warmest gratitude yet, as a father and a member of the proud and independent honourable council of the free imperial city of nuremberg, he considered his rights infringed--nay, it had cost him a severe struggle not to protest against such arbitrary measures. he had his paternal rights even here--els and eva were not parentless orphans. the noble monarch and shrewd judge of human nature perceived what was passing in the nuremberg merchant's mind, but the pleasant smile still rested on his lips as, with a glance at the ill-humoured honourable, he exclaimed to his future son-in-law: "i have just remembered something, heinz, which might somewhat cool your warm expressions of gratitude. yonder lovely child consented to become yours, it is true, but that does not mean very much, for it was done without the consent of her father, by which the compact first obtains signature and seal. herr ernst ortlieb, however, seems to be in no happy mood. only look at him! he is certainly mutely accusing me of vexatious interference with his paternal rights, and yet he may be sure that i feel a special regard for him. his son's blood, which flowed for his emperor's cause, gives him a peculiar claim upon our consideration, and we therefore devoted particular attention to his complaint. in this he now demands, my son, that you restore to him, herr ernst ortlieb, the two hundred silver marks which are awarded to the tailor as blood money and he must pay to the injured artisan. the prudent business man can scarcely be blamed for making this claim, for the wound he inflicted upon the ill-advised tradesman who so basely, insulted those dearest to him would certainly not have been dealt had not your insolent intrusion into the ortlieb mansion unchained evil tongues. so, heinz, you caused his hasty act, and therefor, are justly bound to answer for the consequence; if he brings the accusation, the judges will condemn you to pay the sum. i therefore ask whether you have it ready." here herr ernst attempted to explain that, in the present state of affairs, there could be no further mention of a payment which was only, intended to punish the disturber of his domestic peace more severely; but the emperor stopper him and bade heinz speak. the latter gazed in embarrassment at the helmet he held in his hand, and had not yet found; fitting answer when the emperor cried: "what am i to think? was the duke of pomerani; wrong when he told me of a heap of gold----" "no, your majesty," heinz here interrupter without raising his eyes. "what was left of the money would have more than sufficed to cover the sum required----" "i thought so!" exclaimed the sovereign with out letting him finish; "for a young knight who like a great lord, bestows a fine estate upon the pious franciscans, certainly need only command his treasurer to open the strong box----" "you are mocking me, your majesty," heinz quietly interposed. "you are doubtless well aware whence the golden curse came to me. i thrust it aside like noxious poison, and if i am reluctant to use it to buy, as it were, what is dearest and most sacred to me, indeed it does not spring from parsimony, for i had resolved to offer the two remaining purses to the devout sisters of st. clare and the zealous minorite brothers, one of the best of whom laboured earnestly for the salvation of my soul." "that is right, my son," fell from the emperor's lips in a tone of warm approval. "if the gold benefits the holy poverty of these pious brothers and sisters, the devil's gift may easily be transformed into a divine blessing. you both--" he gazed affectionately at heinz and eva as he spoke--"have, as it were, deserted the cloister, and owe it compensation. but your depriving yourself of your golden treasure, my friend--for two hundred silver marks are no trifle to a young knight--puts so different a face upon this matter that--that----" here he lowered his voice and continued with affectionate mirthfulness--"that a friend must determine to do what he can for him. true, my gallant heinz, i see that your future father-in-law, the other nuremberg honourables, and even your mother, are ready to pay the sum; but he who is most indebted to you holds fast this privilege, and that man am i, my brave champion! what you did for your emperor and his best work, the peace of the country, deserves a rich reward and, thanks to the saints, i have something which will discharge my debt. the swabian fief of reichenbach became vacant. it has a strong citadel, from which we command you to maintain the peace of the country and overthrow robber knights. this fief shall be yours. you can enjoy it with your dear wife. it must belong to your children and children's children forever; for that a schorlin should be born who would be unworthy of such a fief and faithless to his lord and emperor seems to me impossible. three villages and broad forests, with fields and meadows, pertain to the estate. as lord of reichenbach, it will be easy for you to pay the blood money, if your father-in-law is not too importunate a creditor." the latter certainly would not be that, and it cost ernst ortlieb no effort to bend the knee gratefully before the kindly monarch. the emperor rudolph accepted the homage, but he clasped the young lord of reichenbach to his heart like a beloved son, and as he placed eva's hand in his, and she raised her beautiful face to him, he stooped and kissed her with fatherly kindness. when wolff entreated him to bless his alliance in the place of his suffering father, he did so gladly; and els also willingly offered him her lips; when he requested the same favour her sister had granted him, that he might boast of the kisses bestowed on him by the two beautiful es, nuremberg's fairest maidens. chapter xix. heinz heeded cordula's warning. in the royal hall every one would have been justified in believing him a very cool lover, but during the walk with eva to the lodgings of his cousin maier of silenen, where the schurlins, ortliebs, wolff, and herr pfinzing and his wife were to meet to celebrate the betrothal, the moon, whose increasing crescent was again in the sky, beheld many things which gave her pleasure. the priest soon united heinz and eva, but the celestial pilgrim willingly resigned the power formerly exerted over the maiden to the husband, who clasped her to his heart with tender love. luna was satisfied with wolff and els also. she afterwards watched the fate of both couples in swabia and nuremberg, and when the showy escutcheon was removed from the eysvogel mansion, and a more modest one put in its place, she was gratified. she soon saw that a change had also been made in the one above the door of the ortlieb house, for the ortlieb coat of arms, in accordance with the family name, had borne the figure of a cat, the animal which loves the place,--[ort, place.]--the house to which it belongs, but on the wedding day of the two beautiful es the emperor rudolph had commanded that, in perpetual remembrance of its two loveliest daughters, the ortliebs should henceforward bear on their escutcheon two linden leaves under tendrils, the symbol of loyal steadfastness. when, a few months after wolff's union with his heart's beloved, the coffin of old countess rotterbach, adorned with a handsome coronet upon the costly pall, was borne out of the house at the quiet evening hour, she thought there was no cause to mourn. on the other hand, she grieved when, for a long time, she did not see old casper eysvogel, whose tall figure she had formerly watched with pleasure when, at a late hour, he returned from some banquet, his bearing erect, and his step as firm as if wine could not get the better of him. but suddenly one warm september noon, when her pale, waxing crescent was plainly visible in the blue sky by daylight, she beheld him again. he was less erect than before, but he seemed content with his fate; for, as a cooler breeze waved the light cobwebs in the little garden, into which he had been led, his daughter-in-law els with loving care wrapped his feet in the rug which she had embroidered for him with the eysvogel coat of arms, and he gratefully kissed her brow. it was fully ten years later that luna saw him also borne to the grave. frau rosalinde, his son, and his beautiful wife followed his coffin with sincere sorrow. the three gifted children whom els had given to her wolff remained standing in front of the house with frau rickel, their nurse. the carrier's widow, who had long since regained her health in the beguine house at schweinau, had been taken into frau eysvogel's service. her little adopted daughter walpurga, scarcely seventeen years old, had just been married to the ortlieb teamster ortel. the moon heard the nurse tell what a pleasant, quiet man herr casper had been, and how, away from his own business affairs and those of the council, his sole effort had seemed to be to interfere with no one. the moon had forgotten to look at frau rosalinde. besides, after her mother's death she was rarely seen even by the members of her own household, but when els desired to seek her she was sure of finding her with the children. the parents willingly afforded her the pleasure she derived from the companionship of the little ones, but they were often obliged to oppose her wish to dress her grandchildren magnificently. frau rosalinde rarely saw the twin sons of her daughter isabella, who took the veil after her husband's death to pray for his sorely imperilled soul. the knight heideck, the uncle and faithful teacher of the boys, was unwilling to let them go to the city. he ruled them strictly until they had proved that countess cordula's wish had been fulfilled and, resembling their unfortunate father only in figure and beauty, strength and courage, they had grown into valiant, honourable knights. wolff justified the expectations of berthold vorchtel and the honourable council concerning his excellent ability. when, eight years after he undertook the sole guidance of the business, the reichstag again met in nuremberg, it was the house of eysvogel which could make the largest loan to the emperor rudolph, who often lacked necessary funds. at the reichstag of the year 1289, whose memory is shadowed by many a sorrowful incident, most of the persons mentioned in our story met once more. countess cordula, now the happy wife of sir boemund altrosen, had also come and again lodged in the ortlieb house. but this time the only person whose homage pleased her was the grey-haired, but still vigorous and somewhat irascible herr ernst ortlieb. the abbess kunigunde alone was absent. when, after many an arduous conflict, especially with the dominicans, who did not cease to accuse her of lukewarmness, she felt death approaching, she had summoned her darling eva from swabia, and the young wife's husband, who never left her save when he was wielding his sword for the emperor, willingly accompanied her to nuremberg. with eva's hand clasped in hers, and supported by els, the abbess died peacefully, rich in beautiful hopes. how often she had described such an end to her pupil as the fairest reward for the sacrifices in which convent life was so rich! but the memory of her mother's decease had brought to eva, while in schweinau, the firm conviction that dwellers in the world were also permitted to find a similar end. the saviour himself had promised the crown of eternal life to those who were faithful unto death, and she and her husband maintained inviolable fidelity to the saviour, to each other, and to every duty which religion, law, and love commanded them to fulfil. therefore, why should they not be permitted to die as happily and confidently as her aunt, the abbess? her life was rich in happiness, and though heinz schorlin as a husband and father, as the brave and loyal liegeman of his emperor, and the prudent manager of his estate, regained his former light-heartedness, and taught his wife to share it, both never forgot the painful conflict by which they had won each other. when eva passed the village forge and saw the smith draw the glowing iron from the fire and, with heavy hammer strokes, fashion it upon the anvil as he desired, she often remembered the grievous days after her mother's death, which had made the "little saint"--she did not admit it herself, but the whole swabian nobility agreed in the opinion--the most faithful of wives and mothers, the providence of the poor, the zealous promoter of goodness, the most simply attired of noblewomen far and near, yet the most aristocratic and distinguished in her appearance of them all. hand in hand with her husband she devoted the most faithful care to their children, and if biberli, the castellan of the castle, and katterle his wife, who had remained childless, were too ready to read the wishes of their darlings in their eyes, she exclaimed warningly to the loyal old friend, "the fire of the forge!" he and katterle knew what she meant, for the ex-schoolmaster had explained it in the best possible way to his docile wife. etext editor's bookmarks: his sole effort had seemed to be to interfere with no one no virtue which can be owned like a house or a steed retreat behind the high-sounding words "justice and law" strongest of all educational powers--sorrow and love usually found the worst wine in the taverns with showy signs this ebook was produced by david widger <widger@cecomet.net> [note: there is a short list of bookmarks, or pointers, at the end of the file for those who may wish to sample the author's ideas before making an entire meal of them. d.w.] the bride of the nile by georg ebers volume 3. chapter x. after the great excitement of the night paula had thrown herself on her bed with throbbing pulses. sleep would not come to her, and so at rather more than two hours after sunrise she went to the window to close the shutters. as she did so she looked out, and she saw hiram leap into a boat and push the light bark from the shore. she dared neither signal nor call to him; but when the faithful soul had reached open water he looked back at her window, recognized her in her white morning dress and flourished the oar high in the air. this could only mean that he had fulfilled his commission and sold her jewel. now he was going to the other side to engage the nabathaean. when she had closed the shutters and darkened the room she again lay down. youth asserted its rights the weary girl fell into deep, dreamless slumbers. when she woke, with the heat drops on her forehead, the sun was nearly at the meridian, only an hour till the ariston would be served, the greek breakfast, the first meal in the morning, which the family eat together as they also did the principal meal later in the clay. she had never yet failed to appear, and her absence would excite remark. the governor's household, like that of every egyptian of rank, was conducted more on the greek than the egyptian plan; and this was the case not merely as regarded the meals but in many other things, and especially the language spoken. from the mukaukas himself down to the youngest member of the family, all spoke greek among themselves, and coptic, the old native dialect, only to the servants. nay, many borrowed and foreign words had already crept into use in the coptic. the governor's granddaughter, pretty little mary, had learnt to speak greek fluently and correctly before she spoke coptic, but when paula had first arrived she could not as yet write the beautiful language of greece with due accuracy. paula loved children; she longed for some occupation, and she had therefore volunteered to instruct the little girl in the art. at first her hosts had seemed pleased that she should render this service, but ere long the relation between the lady neforis and her husband's niece had taken the unpleasant aspect which it was destined to retain. she had put a stop to the lessons, and the reason she had assigned for this insulting step was that paula had dictated to her pupil long sentences out of her orthodox greek prayerbook. this, it was true, she had done; but without the smallest concealment; and the passages she had chosen had contained nothing but what must elevate the soul of every christian, of whatever confession. the child had wept bitterly over her grandmother's fiat, though paula had always taken the lessons quite seriously, for mary loved her older companion with all the enthusiasm of a half-grown girl--as a child of ten really is in egypt; her passionate little heart worshipped the beautiful maiden who was in every respect so far above her, and paula's arms had opened wide to embrace the child who brought sunshine into the gloomy, chill atmosphere she breathed in her uncle's house. but neforis regarded the child's ardent love for her melchite relation as exaggerated and morbid, imperilling perhaps her religious faith; and she fancied that under paula's influence mary had transferred her affections from her to the younger woman with added warmth. nor was this idea wholly fanciful; the child's strong sense of justice could not bear to see her friend misunderstood and slighted, often simply and entirely misjudged and hardly blamed, so mary felt it her duty, as far as in her lay, to make up for her grandmother's delinquencies in regard to the guest who in the child's eyes was perfection. but neforis was not the woman to put up with this demeanor in a child. mary was her granddaughter, the only child of her lost son, and no one should come between them. so she forbid the little girl to go to paula's room without an express message, and when a greek teacher was engaged for her, her instructions were that she should keep her pupil as much as possible out of the syrian damsel's way. all this only fanned the child's vehement affection; and tenderly as her grandmother would sometimes caress her--while mary on her part never failed in dutiful obedience--neither of them ever felt a true and steady warmth of heart towards the other; and for this paula was no doubt to blame, though against her will and by her mere existence. often, indeed, and by a hundred covert hints dame neforis gave paula to understand that she it was who had alienated her grandchild; there was nothing for it but to keep the child for whom she yearned, at a distance, and only rarely reveal to her the abundance of her love. at last her life was so full of grievance that she was hardly able to be innocent with the innocent--a child with the child; mary was not slow to note this, and ascribed paula's altered manner to the suffering caused by her grandmother's severity. mary's most frequent opportunities of speaking to her friend were just before meals; for at that time no one was watching her, and her grandmother had not forbidden her calling paula to table. a visit to her room was the child's greatest delight--partly because it was forbidden-but no less because paula, up in her own room, was quite different from what she seemed with the others, and because they could there look at each other and kiss without interference, and say what ever they pleased. there mary could tell her as much as she dared of the events in their little circle, but the lively and sometimes hoydenish little girl was often withheld from confessing a misdemeanor, or even an inoffensive piece of childishness, by sheer admiration for one who to her appeared nobler, greater and loftier than other beings. just as paula had finished putting up her hair, mary, who would rush like a whirlwind even into her grandmother's presence, knocked humbly at the door. she did not fly into paula's arms as she did into those of susannah or her daughter katharina, but only kissed her white arm with fervent devotion, and colored with happiness when paula bent down to her, pressed her lips to her brow and hair, and wiped her wet, glowing cheeks. then she took mary's head fondly between her hands and said: "what is wrong with you, madcap?" in fact the sweet little face was crimson, and her eyes swelled as if she had been crying violently. "it is so fearfully hot," said mary. "eudoxia"--her greek governess-"says that egypt in summer is a fiery furnace, a hell upon earth. she is quite ill with the heat, and lies like a fish on the sand; the only good thing about it is. . ." "that she lets you run off and gives you no lessons?" mary nodded, but as no lecture followed the confession she put her head on one side and looked up into paula's face with large roguish eyes. "and yet you have been crying!--a great girl like you?" "i--i crying?" "yes, crying. i can see it in your eyes. now confess: what has happened?" "you will not scold me?" "certainly not." "well then. at first it was fun, such fun you cannot think, and i do not mind the heat; but when the great hunt had gone by i wanted to go to my grand mother and i was not allowed. do you know, something very particular had been going on in the fountain-room; and as they all came out again i crept behind orion into the tablinum--there are such wonderful things there, and i wanted just to frighten him a little; we have often played games together before. at first he did not see me, and as he was bending over the hanging, from which the gem was stolen--i believe he was counting the stones in the faded old thing--i just jumped on to his shoulder, and he was so frightened--i can tell you, awfully frightened! and he turned upon me like a fighting-cock and--and he gave me a box on the ear; such a slap, it is burning now--and all sorts of colors danced before my eyes. he always used to be so nice and kind to me, and to you, too, and so i used to be fond of him--he is my uncle too --but a box on the ears, a slap such as the cook might give to the turnspit--i am too big for that; that i will certainly not put up with it! since my last birthday all the slaves and upper servants, too, have had to treat me as a lady and to bow down to me! and now!--it was just here.--how dare he?" she began to cry again and sobbed out: "but that was not all. he locked me into the dark tablinum and left--left me...." her tears flowed faster and faster, "left me sitting there! it was so horrible; and i might have been there now if i had not found a gold plate; i seized my great-grandfather--i mean the silver image of menas, and hammered on it, and screamed fire! then sebek heard me and fetched orion, and he let me out, and made such a fuss over me and kissed me. but what is the good of that; my grandfather will be angry, for in my terror i beat his father's nose quite flat on the plate." paula had listened, now amused and now grave, to the little girl's story; when she ceased, she once more wiped her eyes and said: "your uncle is a man, and you must not play with him as if he were a child like yourself. the reminder you got was rather a hard one, no doubt, but orion tried to make up for it.--but the great hunt, what was that?" at this question mary's eyes suddenly sparkled again. in an instant all her woes were forgotten, even her ancestor's flattened nose, and with a merry, hearty laugh she exclaimed: "oh! you should have seen it! you would have been amused too. they wanted to catch the bad man who cut the emerald out of the hanging. he had left his shoes and they had held them under the dogs' noses and then off they went! first they rushed here to the stairs; then to the stables, then to the lodgings of one of the horse-trainers, and i kept close behind, after the terriers and the other dogs. then they stopped to consider and at last they all ran out at the gate towards the town. i ought not to have gone beyond the court-yard, but--do not be cross with me--it was such fun!--out they went, along hapi street, across the square, and at last into the goldsmith's street, and there the whole pack plunged into gamaliel's shop--the jew who is always so merry. while he was talking to the others his wife gave me some apricot tartlets; we do not have such good ones at home." "and did they find the man?" asked paula, who had changed color repeatedly during the child's story. "i do not know," said mary sadly. "they were not chasing any one in particular. the dogs kept their noses to the ground, and we ran after them." "and only to catch a man, who certainly had nothing whatever to do with the theft.--reflect a little, mary. the shoes gave the dogs the scent and they were set on to seize the man who had worn them, but whom no judge had examined. the shoes were found in the hall; perhaps he had dropped them by accident, or some one else may have carried them there. now think of yourself in the place of an innocent man, a christian like ourselves, hunted with a pack of dogs like a wild beast. is it not frightful? no good heart should laugh at such a thing!" paula spoke with such impressive gravity and deep sorrow, and her whole manner betrayed such great and genuine distress that the child looked tip at her anxiously, with tearful eyes, threw herself against her, and hiding her face in paula's dress exclaimed: "i did not know that they were hunting a poor man, and if it makes you so sad, i wish i had not been there! but is it really and truly so bad? you are so often unhappy when we others laugh!" she gazed into paula's face with wide, wondering eyes through her tears, and paula clasped her to her, kissed her fondly, and replied with melancholy sweetness: "i would gladly be as gay as you, but i have gone through so much to sadden me. laugh and be merry to your heart's content; i am glad you should. but with regard to the poor hunted man, i fear he is my father's freedman, the most faithful, honest soul! did your exciting hunt drive any one out of the goldsmith's shop?" mary shook her head; then she asked: "is it hiram, the stammerer, the trainer, that they are hunting?" "i fear it is." "yes, yes," said the child. "stay--oh, dear! it will grieve you again, but i think--i think they said--the shoes belonged--but i did not attend. however, they were talking of a groom--a freedman--a stammerer. . . ." "then they certainly are hunting down an innocent man," cried paula with a deep sigh; and she sat down again in front of her toilet-table to finish dressing. her hands still moved mechanically, but she was lost in thought; she answered the child vaguely, and let her rummage in her open trunk till mary pulled out the necklace that had been bereft of its gem, and hung it round her neck. just then there was a knock at the door and katharina, the widow susannah's little daughter, came into the room. the young girl, to whom the governor's wife wished to marry her tall son scarcely reached to paula's shoulder, but she was plump and pleasant to look upon; as neat as if she had just been taken out of a box, with a fresh, merry lovable little face. when she laughed she showed a gleaming row of small teeth, set rather wide apart, but as white as snow; and her bright eyes beamed on the world as gladly as though they had nothing that was not pleasing to look for, innocent mischief to dream of. she too, tried to win paula's favor; but with none of mary's devoted and unvarying enthusiasm. often, to be sure, she would devote herself to paula with such stormy vehemence that the elder girl was forced to be repellent; then, on the other hand, if she fancied her self slighted, or treated more coolly than mary, she would turn her back on paula with sulky jealousy, temper and pouting. it always was in paula's power to put an end to the "water-wagtails tantrums"--which generally had their comic side--by a kind word or kiss; but without some such advances katharina was quite capable of indulging her humors to the utmost. on the present occasion she flew into paula's arm, and when her friend begged, more quietly than usual that she would allow her first to finish dressing, she turned away without any display of touchiness and took the necklace from mary's hand to put it on herself. it was of fine workmanship, set with pearls, and took her fancy greatly; only the empty medallion from which hiram had removed the emerald with his knife spoiled the whole effect. still, it was a princely jewel, and when she had also taken from the chest a large fan of ostrich feathers she showed off to her play-fellow, with droll, stiff dignity, how the empress and princesses at court curtsied and bowed graciously to their inferiors. at this they both laughed a great deal. when paula had finished her toilet and proceeded to take the necklace off katharina, the empty setting, which hiram's knife had bent, caught in the thin tissue of her dress. mary disengaged it, and paula tossed the jewel back into the trunk. while she was locking the box she asked katharina whether she had met orion. "orion!" repeated the younger girl, in a tone which implied that she alone had the right to enquire about him. "yes, we came upstairs together; he went to see the wounded man. have you anything to say to him?" she crimsoned as she spoke and looked suspiciously at paula, who simply replied: "perhaps," and then added, as she hung the ribbon with the key round her neck: "now, you little girls, it is breakfast time; i am not going down to-day." "oh, dear!" cried mary disappointed, "my grandfather is ailing and grandmother will stay with him; so if you do not come i shall have to sit alone with eudoxia; for katharina's chariot is waiting and she must go home at once. oh! do come. just to please me; you do not know how odious eudoxia can be when it is so hot." "yes, do go down," urged katharina. "what will you do up hereby yourself? and this evening mother and i will come again." "very well," said paula. "but first i must go to see the invalids." "may i go with you?" asked the water wagtail, coaxingly stroking paula's arm. but mary clapped her hands, exclaiming: "she only wants to go to orion--she is so fond of him. . . ." katharina put her hand over the child's mouth, but paula, with quickened breath, explained that she had very serious matters to discuss with orion; so katharina, turning her back on her with a hasty gesture of defiance, sulkily went down stairs, while mary slipped down the bannister rail. not many days since, katharina, who was but just sixteen, would gladly have followed her example. paula meanwhile knocked at the first of the sickrooms and entered it as softly as the door was opened by a nursing-sister from the convent of st. katharine. orion, whom she was seeking, had been there, but had just left. in this first room lay the leader of the caravan; in that beyond was the crazy persian. in a sitting-room adjoining the first room, which, being intended for guests of distinction, was furnished with royal magnificence, sat two men in earnest conversation: the arab merchant and philippus the physician, a young man of little more than thirty, tall and bony, in a dress of clean but very coarse stuff without any kind of adornment. he had a shrewd, pale face, out of which a pair of bright black eyes shone benevolently but with keen vivacity. his large cheekbones were much too prominent; the lower part of his face was small, ugly and, as it were, compressed, while his high broad forehead crowned the whole and stamped it as that of a thinker, as a fine cupola may crown an insignificant and homely structure. this man, devoid of charm, though his strongly-characterized individuality made it difficult to overlook him even in the midst of a distinguished circle, had been conversing eagerly with the arab, who, in the course of their two-days' acquaintance, had inspired him with a regard which was fully reciprocated. at last orion had been the theme of their discourse, and the physician, a restless toiler who could not like any man whose life was one of idle enjoyment, though he did full justice to his brilliant gifts and well-applied studies, had judged him far more hardly than the older man. to the leech all forms of human life were sacred, and in his eyes everything that could injure the body or soul of a man was worthy of destruction. he knew all that orion had brought upon the hapless mandane, and how lightly he had trifled with the hearts of other women; in his eyes this made him a mischievous and criminal member of society. he regarded life as an obligation to be discharged by work alone, of whatever kind, if only it were a benefit to society as a whole. and such youths as orion not only did not recognize this, but used the whole and the parts also for base and selfish ends. the old moslem, on the contrary, viewed life as a dream whose fairest portion, the time of youth, each one should enjoy with alert senses, and only take care that at the waking which must come with death he might hope to find admission into paradise. how little could man do against the iron force of fate! that could not be forefended by hard work; there was nothing for it but to take up a right attitude, and to confront and meet it with dignity. the bark of orion's existence lacked ballast; in fine weather it drifted wherever the breeze carried it, he himself had taken care to equip it well; and if only the chances of life should freight it heavily--very heavily, and fling it on the rocks, then orion might show who and what he was; he, haschim, firmly believed that his character would prove itself admirable. it was in the hour of shipwreck that a man showed his worth. here the physician interrupted him to prove that it was not fate, as imagined by moslems, but man himself who guided the bark of life--but at this moment paula looked into the room, and he broke off. the merchant bowed profoundly, philippus respectfully, but with more embarrassment than might have been expected from the general confidence of his manner. for some years he had been a daily visitor in the governor's house, and after carefully ignoring paula on her first arrival, since dame neforis had taken to treating her so coolly he drew her out whenever he had the opportunity. her conversations with him had now become dear and even necessary to her, though at first his dry, cutting tone had displeased her, and he had often driven her into a corner in a way that was hard to bear. they kept her mind alert in a circle which never busied itself with anything but the trivial details of family life in the decayed city, or with dogmatic polemics--for the mukaukas seldom or never took part in the gossip of the women. the leech never talked of daily events, but expressed his views as to other and graver subjects in life, or in books with which they were both familiar; and he had the art of eliciting replies from her which he met with wit and acumen. by degrees she had become accustomed to his bold mode of thought, sometimes, it is true, too recklessly expressed; and the gifted girl now preferred a discussion with him to any other form of conversation, recognizing that a childlike and supremely unselfish soul animated this thoughtful reservoir of all knowledge. almost everything she did displeased her uncle's wife, and so, of course, did her familiar intercourse with this man, whose appearance certainly had in it nothing to attract a young girl.--the physician to a family of rank was there to keep its members in good health, and it was unbecoming in one of them to converse with him on intimate terms as an equal. she reproached paula-whose pride she was constantly blaming--for her unseemly condescension to philippus; but what chiefly annoyed her was that paula took up many a half-hour which otherwise philippus would have devoted to her husband; and in him and his health her life and thoughts were centred. the arab at once recognized his foe of the previous evening; but they soon came to a friendly understanding--paula confessing her folly in holding a single and kindly-disposed man answerable for the crimes of a whole nation. haschim replied that a right-minded spirit always came to a just conclusion at last; and then the conversation turned on her father, and the physician explained to the arab that she was resolved never to weary of seeking the missing man. "nay, it is the sole aim and end of my life," cried the girl. "a great mistake, in my opinion," said the leech. but the merchant differed: there were things, he said, too precious to be given up for lost, even when the hope of finding them seemed as feeble and thin as a rotten reed. "that is what i feel!" cried paula. "and how can you think differently, philip? have i not heard from your own lips that you never give up all hope of a sick man till death has put an end to it? well, and i cling to mine--more than ever now, and i feel that i am right. my last thought, my last coin shall be spent in the search for my father, even without my uncle and his wife, and in spite of their prohibition." "but in such a task a young girl can hardly do without a man's succor," said the merchant. "i wander a great deal about the world, i speak with many foreigners from distant lands, and if you will do me the honor, pray regard me as your coadjutor, and allow me to help you in seeking for the lost hero." "thanks--i fervently thank you!" cried paula, grasping the moslem's hand with hearty pleasure. "wherever you go bear my lost father in mind; i am but a poor, lonely girl, but if you find him. . ." "then you will know that even among the moslems there are men. . ." "men who are ready to show compassion and to succor friendless women!" interrupted paula. "and with good success, by the blessing of the almighty," replied the arab. "as soon as i find a clue you shall hear from me; now, however, i must go across the nile to see amru the great general; i go in all confidence for i know that my poor, brave rustem is in good hands, friend philippus. my first enquiries shall be made in fostat, rely upon that, my daughter." "i do indeed," said paula with pleased emotion. "when shall we meet again?" "to-morrow, or the morning after at latest." the young girl went up to him and whispered: "we have just heard of a clue; indeed, i hope my messenger is already on his way. have you time to hear about it now?" "i ought long since to have been on the other shore; so not to-day, but to-morrow i hope." the arab shook hands with her and the physician, and hastily took his leave. paula stood still, thinking. then it struck her that hiram was now on the further side of the nile, within the jurisdiction of the arab ruler, and that the merchant could perhaps intercede for him, if she were to tell him all she knew. she felt the fullest confidence in the old man, whose kind and sympathetic face was still visible to her mind's eye, and without paying any further heed to the physician she went quickly towards the door of the sick-room. a crucifix hung close by, and the nun had fallen on her knees before it, praying for her infidel patient, and beseeching the good shepherd to have mercy on the sheep that was not of his fold. paula did not venture to disturb the worshipper, who was kneeling just in the narrow passage; so some minutes elapsed before the leech, observing her uneasiness, came out of the larger room, touched the nun on the shoulder, and said in a low voice of genuine kindness: "one moment, good sister. your pious intercession will be heard--but this damsel is in haste." the nun rose at once and made way, sending a wrathful glance after paula as she hurried down the stairs. at the door of the court-yard she looked out and about for the arab, but in vain. then she enquired of a slave who told her that the merchant's horse had waited for him at the gate a long time, that he had just come galloping out, and by this time must have reached the bridge of boats which connected memphis with the island of rodah and, beyond the island, with the fort of babylon and the new town of fostat. chapter xi. paula went up-stairs again, distressed and vexed with herself. was it the heat that had enervated her and robbed her of the presence of mind she usually had at her command? she herself could not understand how it was that she had not at once taken advantage of the opportunity to plead to haschim for her faithful retainer. the merchant might have interested himself for hiram. the slave at the gate had told her that he had not yet been taken; the time to intercede, then, had not yet come. but she was resolved to do so, to draw the wrath of her relations down on herself, and, if need should be, to relate all she had seen in the course of the night, to save her devoted servant. it was no less than her duty: still, before humiliating orion so deeply she would warn him. the thought of charging him with so shameful a deed pained her like the need for inflicting an injury on herself. she hated him, but she would rather have broken the most precious work of art than have branded him--him whose image still reigned in her heart, supremely glorious and attractive. instead of following mary to breakfast, or offering herself as usual to play draughts with her uncle, she went back to the sick-room. to meet neforis or orion at this moment would have been painful, indeed odious to her. it was long since she had felt so weary and oppressed. a conversation with the physician might perhaps prove refreshing; after the various agitations of the last few hours she longed for something, be it what it might, that should revive her spirits and give a fresh turn to her thoughts. in the masdakite's room the sister coldly asked her what she wanted, and who had given her leave to assist in tending the sufferers. the leech, who at that moment was moistening the bandage on the wounded man's head, at this turned to the nun and informed her decidedly that he desired the young girl's assistance in attending on both his patients. then he led the way sitting-room, saying in subdued into the adjoining tones: "for the present all is well. let us rest here a little while." she sat down on a divan, and he on a seat opposite, and philippus began: "you were seeking handsome orion just now, but you must. . . ." "what?" she asked gravely. "and i would have you to know that the son of the house is no more to me than his mother is. your phrase 'handsome orion' seems to imply something that i do not again wish to hear. but i must speak to him, and soon, in reference to an important matter." "to what, then, do i owe the pleasure of seeing you here again? to confess the truth i did not hope for your return." "and why not?" "excuse me from answering. no one likes to hear unpleasant things. if one of my profession thinks any one is not well. . . ." "if that is meant for me," replied the girl, "all i can tell you is that the one thing on which i still can pride myself is my health. say what you will--the very worst for aught i care. i want something to-day to rouse me from lethargy, even if it should make me angry." "very well then," replied the leech, "though i am plunging into deep waters!--as to health, as it is commonly understood, a fish might envy you; but the higher health--health of mind: that i fear you cannot boast of." "this is a serious beginning," said paula. "your reproof would seem to imply that i have done you or some one else a wrong." "if only you had!" exclaimed he. "no, you have not sinned against us in any way.--'i am as i am' is what you think of yourself; and what do you care for others?" "that must depend on whom you mean by 'others!'" "nothing less than all and each of those with whom you live--here, in this house, in this town, in this world. to you they are mere air--or less; for the air is a tangible thing that can fill a ship's sails and drive it against the stream, whose varying nature can bring comfort or suffering to your body." "my world is within!" said paula, laying her hand on her heart. "very true. and all creation may find room there; for what cannot the human heart, as it is called, contain! the more we require it to take and keep, the more ready it is to hold it. it is unsafe to let the lock rust; for, if once it has grown stiff, when we want to open it no pulling and wrenching will avail. and besides--but i do not want to grieve you. --you have a habit of only looking backwards...." "and what that is pleasurable lies before me? your blame is harsh and at the same time unjust.--indeed, and how can you tell which way i look?" "because i have watched you with the eye of a friend. in truth, paula, you have forgotten how to look around and forward. the life which lies behind you and which you have lost is all your world. i once showed you on a fragmentary papyrus that belonged to my foster father, horus apollo, a heathen demon represented as going forwards, while his head was turned on his neck so that the face and eyes looked behind him." "i remember it perfectly." well, you have long been just like him. 'all things move,' says heraclitus, so you are forced to float onwards with the great stream; or, to vary the image, you must walk forwards on the high-road of life towards the common goal; but your eye is fixed on what lies behind you, feasting on the prospect of a handsome and wealthy home, kindness and tenderness, noble and loving faces, and a happy, but alas! long-lost existence. all the same, on you must go.--what must the result be?" "i must stumble, you think, and fall?" the physician's reproof had hit paula all the harder because she could not conceal from herself that there was much truth in it. she had come hither on purpose to find encouragement, and these accusations troubled even her sense of high health. why should she submit to be taken to task like a school-girl by this man, himself still young? if this went on she would let him hear.... but he was speaking again, and his reply calmed her, and strengthened her conviction that he was a true and well-meaning friend. "not that perhaps," he said, "because--well, because nature has blessed you with perfect balance, and you go forward in full self-possession as becomes the daughter of a hero. we must not forget that it is of your soul that i am speaking; and that maintains its innate dignity of feeling among so much that is petty and mean." "then why need i fear to look back when it gives me so much comfort?" she eagerly enquired, as she gazed in his face with fresh spirit. "because it may easily lead you to tread on other people's feet! that hurts them; then they are annoyed, and they get accustomed to think grudgingly of you--you who are more lovable than they are." "but quite unjustly; for i am not conscious of ever having intentionally grieved or hurt any one in my whole life." "i know that; but you have done so unintentionally a thousand times." "then it would be better i should quit them altogether." "no, and a thousand times no! the man who avoids his kind and lives in solitude fancies he is doing some great thing and raising himself above the level of the existence he despises. but look a little closer: it is self-interest and egoism which drive him into the cave and the cloister. in any case he neglects his highest duty towards humanity--or let us say merely towards the society he belongs to--in order to win what he believes to be his own salvation. society is a great body, and every individual should regard himself as a member of it, bound to serve and succor it, and even, when necessary, to make sacrifices for it. the greatest are not too great. but those who crave isolation,--you yourself--nay, hear me out, for i may never again risk the danger of incurring your wrath--desire to be a body apart. what paula has known and possessed, she keeps locked in the treasure-house of her memory under bolt and key; what paula is, she feels she still must be--and for whom? again, for that same paula. she has suffered great sorrow and on that her soul lives; but this is evil nourishment, unwholesome and bad for her." she was about to rise; but he bent forward, with a zealous conviction that he must not allow himself to be interrupted, and lightly touched her arm as though to prevent her quitting her seat, while he went on unhesitatingly: "you feed on your old sorrows! well and good. many a time have i seen that trial can elevate the soul. it can teach a brave heart to feel the woes of others more deeply; it can rouse a desire to assuage the griefs of others with beautiful self-devotion. those who have known pain and affliction enjoy ease and pleasure with double satisfaction; sufferers learn to be grateful for even the smaller joys of life. but you?-i have long striven for courage to tell you so--you derive no benefit from suffering because you lock it up in your breast--as if a man were to enclose some precious seed in a silver trinket to carry about with him. it should be sown in the earth, to sprout and bear fruit! however, i do not blame you; i only wish to advise you as a true and devoted friend. learn to feel yourself a member of the body to which your destiny has bound you for the present, whether you like it or not. try to contribute to it all that your capacities allow you achieve. you will find that you can do something for it; the casket will open, and to your surprise and delight you will perceive that the seed dropped into the soil will germinate, that flowers will open and fruit will form of which you may make bread, or extract from it a balm for yourself or for others! then you will leave the dead to bury the dead, as the bible has it, and dedicate to the living those great powers and gracious gifts which an illustrious father and a noble mother--nay, and a long succession of distinguished ancestors, have bequeathed to a descendant worthy of them. then you will recover that which you have lost: the joy in existence which we ought both to feel and to diffuse, because it brings with it an obligation which it which is only granted to us once to fulfil. kind fate has fitted you above a hundred thousand others for being loved; and if you do not forget the gratitude you owe for that, hearts will be turned to you, though now they shun the tree which has beset itself intentionally with thorns, and which lets its branches droop like the weeping-willows by the nile. thus you will lead a new and beautiful life, receiving and giving joy. the isolated and charmless existence you drag through here, to the satisfaction of none and least of all to your own, you can transform to one of fruition and satisfaction--breathing and moving healthily and beneficently in the light of day. it lies in your power. when you came up here to give your care to these poor injured creatures, you took the first step in the new path i desire to show you, to true happiness. i did not expect you, and i am thankful that you have come; for i know that as you entered that door you may have started on the road to renewed happiness, if you have the will to walk in it.--thank god! that is said and over!" the leech rose and wiped his forehead, looking uneasily at paula who had remained seated; her breath came fast, and she was more confused and undecided than he had ever seen her. she clasped her hand over her brow, and gazed, speechless, into her lap as though she wished to smother some pain. the young physician beat his arms together, like a laborer in the winter when his hands are frozen, and exclaimed with distressful emotion: "yes, i have spoken, and i cannot regret having done so; but what i foresaw has come to pass: the greatest happiness that ever sweetened my daily life is gone out of it! to love plato is a noble rule, but greater than plato is the truth; and yet, those who preach it must be prepared to find that truth scares away friends from the unpleasing vicinity of its ill-starred apostles!" at this paula rose, and following the impulse of her generous heart, offered the leech her hand in all sincerity; he grasped it in both his, pressing it so tightly that it almost hurt her, and his eyes glistened with moisture as he exclaimed: "that is as i hoped; that is splendid, that is noble! let me but be your brother, high-souled maiden!--now, come. that poor, crazy, lovely girl will heal of her death-wound under your hands if under any!" "i will come!" she replied heartily; and there was something healthy and cheerful in her manner as they entered the sick-room; but her expression suddenly changed, and she asked pensively: "and supposing we restore the unhappy girl--what good will she get by it?" "she will breathe and see the sunshine," replied the leech; "she will be grateful to you, and finally she will contribute what she can to the whole body. she will be alive in short, she will live. for life--feel it, understand it as i do--life is the best thing we have." paula gazed with astonishment in the man's unlovely but enthusiastic face. how radiantly joyful! no one could have called it ugly at this moment, or have said that it lacked charm. he believed what he had asserted with such fervent feeling, though it was in contradiction to a view he had held only yesterday and often defended: that life in itself was misery to all who could not grasp it of their own strength, and make something of it worth making. at this moment he really felt that it was the best gift. paula went forward, and his eyes followed her, as the gaze of the pious pilgrim is fixed on the holy image he has travelled to see, over seas and mountains, with bruised feet. they went up to the sick girl's bed. the nun drew back, making her own reflections on the physician's altered mien, and his childlike, beaming contentment, as he explained to paula what particular peril threatened the sufferer, and by what treatment he hoped to save her; how to make the bandages and give the medicines, and how necessary it was to accept the poor crazy girl's fancies and treat them as rational ideas so long as the fever lasted. at last he was forced to go and attend to other patients. paula remained sitting at the head of the bed and gazing at the face of the sufferer. how fair it was! and orion had snatched this rose in the bud, and trodden it under foot! she had, no doubt, felt for him what paula herself felt. and now? did she feel nothing but hatred of him, or could her heart, in spite of her indignation and scorn, not altogether cast off the spell that had once bound it? what weakness was this! she was, she must, she would be his foe! her thoughts went back to the idle and futile life that she had led for so many years. the physician had hit the mark; and he had been too easy rather than severe. yes, she would begin to make good use of her powers --but how, in what way, here and among these people? how transfigured poor philippus had seemed when she had given him her hand; with what energy had he poured forth his words. "and how false," she mused, "is the saying that the body is the mirror of the soul! if it were so, philippus would have the face of orion, and orion that of philippus." but could orion's heart be wholly reprobate? nay, that was impossible; her every impulse resisted the belief. she must either love him or hate him, there was no third alternative; but as yet the two passions were struggling within her in a way that was quite intolerable. the physician had spoken of being a brother to her, and she could not help smiling at the idea. she could, she thought, live very happily and calmly with him, with her nurse betta, and with the learned old friend who shared his home, and of whom he had often talked to her; she could join him in his studies, help him in his calling, and discuss many things well worth knowing. such a life, she told herself, would be a thousand times preferable to this, with neforis. in him she had certainly found a friend; and her glad recognition of the fact was the first step towards the fulfilment of his promise, since it showed that her heart was still ready to go forth to the kindness of another. amid these meditations, however, her anxiety for hiram constantly recurred to her, and it was clear to her mind that, if she and orion should come to extremities, she could no longer dwell under the governor's roof. often she had longed for nothing so fervently as to be able to quit it; but to-day it filled her with dread, for parting from her uncle necessarily involved parting from his son. she hated him; still, to lose sight of him altogether would be very hard to bear. to go with philippus and live with him as his sister would never do; nay, it struck her as something inconceivable, strangely incongruous. meanwhile she listened to mandane's breathing and treated her in obedience to the leech's orders, longing for his return; presently however, not he but the nun came to the bed-side, laid her hand on the girl's forehead, and without paying any heed to paula, whispered kindly: "that is right child, sleep away; have a nice long sleep. so long as she can be kept quiet; if only she goes on like this!--her head is cooler. philippus will certainly say there is scarcely any fever. thank god, the worst danger is over!" "oh, how glad i am!" cried paula, and she spoke with such warmth and sincerity that the nun gave her a friendly nod and left the sick girl to her care, quite satisfied. it was long since paula had felt so happy. she fancied that her presence had had a good affect on the sufferer, that mandane had already been brought by her nursing to the threshold of a new life. paula, who but just now had regarded herself as a persecuted victim of fate, now breathed more freely in the belief that she too might bring joy to some one. she looked into mandane's more than pretty face with real joy and tenderness, laid the bandage which had slipped aside gently over her ears, and breathed a soft kiss on her long silken lashes. she rapidly grew in favor with the shrewd nun; when the hour for prayer came round, the sister included in her petitions--paula--the orphan under a stranger's roof, the greek girl born, by the inscrutable decrees of god, outside the pale of her saving creed. at length philippus returned; he was rejoiced at his new friend's brightened aspect, and declared that mandane had, under her care, got past the first and worst danger, and might be expected to recover, slowly indeed, but completely. after paula had renewed the compress--and he intentionally left her to do it unaided, he said encouragingly: "how quickly you have learnt your business.--now, the patient is asleep again; the sister will keep watch, and for the present we can be of no use to the girl; sleep is the best nourishment she can have. but with us--or at any rate with me, it is different. we have still two hours to wait for the next meal: my breakfast is standing untouched, and yours no doubt fared the same; so be my guest. they always send up enough to satisfy six bargemen." paula liked the proposal, for she had long been hungry. the nun was desired to hasten to fetch some more plates, of drinking-vessels there was no lack--and soon the new allies were seated face to face, each at a small table. he carved the duck and the roast quails, put the salad before her and some steaming artichokes, which the nun had brought up at the request of the cook whose only son the physician had saved; he invited her attention to the little pies, the fruits and cakes which were laid ready, and played the part of butler; and then, while they heartily enjoyed the meal, they carried on a lively conversation. paula for the first time asked philippus to tell her something of his early youth; he began with an account of his present mode of life, as a partner in the home of the singular old priest of isis, horus apollo, a diligent student; he described his strenuous activity by day and his quiet studies by night, and gave everything such an amusing aspect that often she could not help laughing. but presently he was sad, as he told her how at an early age he had lost his father and mother, and was left to depend solely on himself and on a very small fortune, having no relations; for his father had been a grammarian, invited to alexandria from athens, who had been forced to make a road for himself through life, which had lain before him like an overgrown jungle of papyrus and reeds. every hour of his life was devoted to his work, for a rough, outspoken goliath, such as he, never could find it easy to meet with helpful patrons. he had managed to live by teaching in the high schools of alexandria, athens, and caesarea, and by preparing medicines from choice herbs--drinking water instead of wine, eating bread and fruit instead of quails and pies; and he had made a friend of many a good man, but never yet of a woman--it would be difficult with such a face as his! "then i am the first?" said paula, who felt deep respect for the man who had made his way by his own energy to the eminent position which he had long held, not merely in memphis, but among egyptian physicians generally. he nodded, and with such a blissful smile that she felt as though a sunbeam had shone into her very soul. he noticed this at once, raised his goblet, and drank to her, exclaiming with a flush on his cheek: "the joy that comes to others early has come to me late; but then the woman i call my friend is matchless!" "well, it is to be hoped she may not prove to be so wicked as you just now described her.--if only our alliance is not fated to end soon and abruptly." "ah!" cried the physician, "every drop of blood in my veins......" "you would be ready to shed it for me," paula broke in, with a pathetic gesture, borrowed from a great tragedian she had seen at the theatre in damascus. "but never fear: it will not be a matter of life and death-at worst they will but turn me out of the house and of memphis." "you?" cried philippus startled, "but who would dare to do so?" "they who still regard me as a stranger.--you described the case admirably. if they have their way, my dear new friend, our fate will be like that of the learned dionysius of cyrene." "of cyrene?" "yes. it was my father who told me the story. when dionysius sent his son to the high school at athens, he sat down to write a treatise for him on all the things a student should do and avoid. he devoted himself to the task with the utmost diligence; but when, at the end of four years, he could write on the last leaf of the roll. "here this book hath a happy ending," the young man whose studies it was intended to guide came home to cyrene, a finished scholar." "and we have struck up a friendship.... ?" "and made a treaty of alliance, only to be parted ere long." philippus struck his fist vehemently on the little table in front of his couch and exclaimed: "that i will find means to prevent!--but now, tell me in confidence, what has last happened between you and the family downstairs?" "you will know quite soon enough." "whichever of them fancies that you can be turned out of doors without more ado and there will be an end between us, may find himself mistaken!" cried the physician with an angry sparkle in his eyes. "i have a right to put in a word in this house. it has not nearly come to that yet, and what is more, it never shall. you shall quit it certainly; but of your own free will, and holding your head high...." as he spoke the door of the outer room was hastily opened and the next instant orion was standing before them, looking with great surprise at the pair who had just finished their meal. he said coldly: "i am disturbing you, i see." "not in the least," replied the leech; and the young man, perceiving what bad taste it would be and how much out of place to give expression to his jealous annoyance, said, with a smile: "if only it had been granted to a third person to join in this symposium!" "we found each other all-sufficient company," answered philippus. "a man who could believe in all the doctrines of the church as readily as in that statement would be assured of salvation," laughed orion. "i am no spoilsport, respected friends; but i deeply regret that i must, on the present occasion, disturb your happiness. the matter in question......" and he felt he might now abandon the jesting tone which so little answered to his mood, "is a serious one. in the first instance it concerns your freedman, my fair foe." "has hiram come back?" asked paula, feeling herself turn pale. "they have brought him in," replied orion. "my father at once summoned the court of judges. justice has a swift foot here with us; i am sorry for the man, but i cannot prevent its taking its course. i must beg of you to appear at the examination when you are called." "the whole truth shall be told!" said paula sternly and firmly. "of course," replied orion. then turning to the physician, he added: "i would request you, worthy esculapius, to leave me and my cousin together for a few minutes. i want to give her a word of counsel which will certainly be to her advantage." philippus glanced enquiringly at the girl; she said with clear decision: "you and i can have no secrets. what i may hear, philippus too may know." orion, with a shrug, turned to leave the room: on the threshold he paused, exclaiming with some excitement and genuine distress: "if you will not listen to me for your own sake, do so at least, whatever ill-feeling you may bear me, because i implore you not to refuse me this favor. it is a matter of life or death to one human being, of joy or misery to another. do not refuse me.--i ask nothing unreasonable, philippus. do as i entreat you and leave us for a moment alone." again the physician's eyes consulted the young girl's; this time she said: "go!" and he immediately quitted the room. orion closed the door. "what have i done, paula," he began with panting breath, "that since yesterday you have shunned me like a leper--that you are doing your utmost to bring me to ruin?" "i mean to plead for the life of a trusty servant; nothing more," she said indifferently. "at the risk of disgracing me!" he retorted bitterly. "at that risk, no doubt, if you are indeed so base as to throw your own guilt on the shoulders of an honest man." "then you watched me last night?" "the merest chance led me to see you come out of the tablinum...." "i do not ask you now what took you there so late," he interrupted, "for it revolts me to think anything of you but the best, the highest.--but you? what have you experienced at my hands but friendship--nay, for concealment or dissimulation is here folly--but what a lover....?" "a lover!" cried paula indignantly. "a lover? dare you utter the word, when you have offered your heart and hand to another--you. . . ." "who told you so?" asked orion gloomily. "your own mother." "that is it; so that is it?" cried the young man, clasping his hands convulsively. "now i begin to see, now i understand. but stay. for if it is indeed that which has roused you to hate me and persecute me, you must love me, paula--you do love me, and then, noblest and sweetest...." he held out his hand; but she struck it aside, exclaiming in a tremulous voice: "be under no delusion. i am not one of the feeble lambs whom you have beguiled by the misuse of your gifts and advantages; and who then are eager to kiss your hands. i am the daughter of thomas; and another woman's betrothed, who craves my embraces on the way to his wedding, will learn to his rueing that there are women who scorn his disgraceful suit and can avenge the insult intended them. go--go to your judges! you, a false witness, may accuse hiram, but i will proclaim you, you the son of this house, as the thief! we shall see which they believe." "me!" cried orion, and his eyes flashed as wrathfully and vindictively as her own. "the son of the mukaukas! oh, that you were not a woman! i would force you to your knees and compel you to crave my pardon. how dare you point your finger at a man whose life has hitherto been as spotless as your own white raiment? yes, i did go to the tablinum--i did tear the emerald from the hanging; but i did it in a fit of recklessness, and in the knowledge that what is my father's is mine. i threw away the gem to gratify a mere fancy, a transient whim. cursed be the hour when i did it!--not on account of the deed itself, but of the consequences it may entail through your mad hatred. jealousy, petty, unworthy jealousy is at the bottom of it! and of whom are you jealous?" "of no one; not even of your betrothed, katharina," replied paula with forced composure. "what are you to me that, to spare you humiliation, i should risk the life of the most honest soul living? i have said: the judges shall decide between you." "no, they shall not!" stormed orion. "at least, not as you intend! beware, beware, i say, of driving me to extremities! i still see in you the woman i loved; i still offer you what lies within my power: to let everything end for the best for you. . . ." "for me! then i, too, am to suffer for your guilt?" "did you hear the barking of hounds just now?" "i heard dogs yelping." "very well.--your freedman has been brought in, the pack got on his scent and have now been let into the house close to the tablinum. the dogs would not stir beyond the threshold and on the white marble step, towards the right-hand side, the print of a man's foot was found in the dust. it is a peculiar one, for instead of five toes there are but three. your hiram was fetched in, and he was found to have the same number of toes as the mark on the marble, neither more nor less. a horse trod on his foot, in your father's stable, and two of his toes had to be cut off: we got this out of the stammering wretch with some difficulty. --on the other side of the door-way there was a smaller print, but though the dogs paid no heed to that i examined it, and assured myself--how, i need not tell you--that it was you who had stood there. he, who has no business whatever in the house, must have made his way last night into the tablinum, our treasury. now, put yourself in the judges' place. how can such facts be outweighed by the mere word of a girl who, as every one knows, is on anything rather than good terms with my mother, and who will leave no stone unturned to save her servant." "infamous!" cried paula. "hiram did not steal the gem, as you must know who stole it. the emerald he sold was my property; and were those stones really so much alike that even the seller. . ." "yes, indeed. he could not tell one from the other. evil spirits have been at work all through, devilish, malignant demons. it would be enough to turn one's brain, if life were not so full of enigmas! you yourself are the greatest.--did you give the syrian your emerald to sell in order to fly from this house with the money?--you are silent? then i am right. what can my father be to you--you do not love my mother--and the son!--paula, paula, you are perhaps doing him an injustice--you hate him, and it is a pleasure to you to injure him." "i do not wish to hurt you or any one," replied the girl. "and you have guessed wrongly. your father refused me the means of seeking mine." "and you wanted to procure money to search for one who is long since dead!--even my mother admits that you speak the truth; if she is right, and you really take no pleasure in doing me a mischief, listen to me, follow my advice, and grant my prayer! i do not ask any great matter." "speak on then." "do you know what a man's honor is to him? need i tell you that i am a lost and despised man if i am found guilty of this act of the maddest folly by the judges of my own house? it may cost my father his life if he hears that the word 'guilty' is pronounced on me; and i--i--what would become of me i cannot foresee!--i--oh god, oh god, preserve me from frenzy!--but i must be calm; time presses.... how different it is for your servant; he seems ready even now to take the guilt on himself, for, whatever he is asked, he still keeps silence. do you do the same; and if the judges insist on knowing what you had to do with the syrian last night--for the dogs traced the scent to your staircase--hazard a conjecture that the faithful fellow stole the emerald in order to gratify your desire to search for your father, his beloved master. if you can make up your mind to so great a sacrifice--oh, that i should have to ask it of you!--i swear to you by all i hold sacred, by yourself and by my father's head, i will set hiram free within three days, unbeaten and unhurt, and magnificently indemnified; and i will myself help him on the way whither he may desire to go, or you to send him, in search of your father.--be silent; remain neutral in the background; that is all i ask, and i will keep my word--that, at any rate, you do not doubt?" she had listened to him with bated breath; she pitied him deeply as he stood there, a suppliant in bitter anguish of soul, a criminal who still could not understand that he was one, and who relied on the confidence that, only yesterday, he still had had the right to exact from all the world. he appeared before her like a fine proud tree struck by lightning, whose riven trunk, trembling to its fall, must be crushed to the earth by the first storm, unless the gardener props it up. she longed to be able to forget all he had brought upon her and to grasp his hand in friendly consolation; but her deeply aggrieved pride helped her to preserve the cold and repellent manner she had so far succeeded in assuming. with much hesitation and reserve she consented to be silent as long as he kept his promise. it was for his father's sake, rather than his own, that she would so far become his accomplice: at the same time everything else was at an end between them, and she should bless the hour which might see her severed from him and his for ever. the end of her speech was in a strangely hard and repellent tone; she felt she must adopt it to disguise how deeply she was touched by his unhappiness and by the extinction of the sunshine in him which had once warmed her own heart too with bliss. to him it seemed that an icy rigor breathed in her words--bitter contempt and hostile revulsion. he had some difficulty in keeping himself from breaking out again in violent wrath. he was almost sorry that he had trusted her with his secret and begged her for mercy, instead of leaving things to run their course, and if it had come to the worst, dragging her to perdition with him. sooner would he forfeit honor and peace than humble himself again before this pitiless and cold-hearted foe. at this moment he really hated her, and only wished it were possible to fight her, to break her pride, to see her vanquished and crying for quarter at his feet. it was with a great effort--with tingling cheeks and constrained utterance that he said: "severance from you is indeed best for us all.--be ready: the judges will send for you soon." "very well," she replied. "i will be silent; you have only to provide for the syrian's safety. you have given me your word." "and so long as you keep yours i will keep mine. or else. . ." the words would come from his quivering lips--"or else war to the knife!" "war to the knife!" she echoed with flashing eyes. "but one thing more. i have proof that the emerald which hiram sold belonged to me. by all the saints--proof!" "so much the better for you," he said. "woe to us both, if you force me to forget that you are a woman!" and he left the room with a rapid step. chapter xii. orion went down stairs scowling and clenching his fists. his heart ached to bursting. what had he done, what had befallen him? that a woman should dare to treat him so!--a woman whom he had deigned to love--the loveliest and noblest of women; but at the same time the haughtiest, most vengeful, and most hateful. he had once read this maxim: "when a man has committed a base action, if only one other knows of it he carries the death-warrant of his peace in the bosom of his garment." he felt the full weight of this sentence; and the other--the one who knew--was paula, the woman of all others whom he most wished should look up to him. but yesterday it had been a vision of heaven on earth to dream of holding her in his arms and calling her his; now he had but one wish: that he could humble and punish her. oh, that his hands should be tied, that he should be dependent on her mercy like a condemned criminal! it was inconceivable--intolerable! but she should be taught to know him. he had passed through life hitherto as white as a swan; if this luckless hour and this woman made him appear as a vulture, it was not his fault, it was hers. she should soon see which was the stronger of the two. he would punish her in every way in which a woman can be punished, even if the way to it led through crime and misery! he was not afraid that the leech bad won her affections, for he knew, with strange certainty that, in spite of the hostility she displayed, her heart was his and his alone. "the gold coin called love," said he to himself, "has two faces: tender devotion and bitter aversion; just now she is showing me the latter. but, however different the image and superscription may be on the two sides, if you ring it, it always gives out the same tone; and i can hear it even in her most insulting words." when the family met at table he made paula's excuses; he himself ate only a few mouthfuls, for the judges had assembled some time since and were waiting for him. the right of life and death had been placed in the hands of the ancestors of the mukaukas, powerful princes of provinces; they had certainly wielded it even in the dynasty of psammitichus, whose power had been put to a terrible end by cambyses the persian. and still the uraeus snake-the asp whose bite caused almost instant death, reared its head as the time-honored emblem of this privilege, by the side of st. george the dragon-slayer, over the palaces of the mukaukas at memphis, and at lykopolis in upper egypt. and in both these places the head of the family retained the right of arbitrary judgment and capital punishment over the retainers of his house and the inhabitants of the district he governed, after justinian first, and then the emperor heraclius, had confirmed them in their old prerogative. the chivalrous st. george was placed between the snakes so as to replace a heathen symbol by a christian one. formerly indeed the knight himself had had the head of a sparrow-hawk: that is to say of the god horus, who had overthrown the evil-spirit, seth-typhon, to avenge his father; but about two centuries since the heathen crocodile-destroyer had been transformed into the christian conqueror of the dragon. after the arab conquest the moslems had left all ancient customs and rights undisturbed, including those of the mukaukas. the court which assembled to sit in judgment on all cases concerning the adherents of the house consisted of the higher officials of the governor's establishment. the mukaukas himself was president, and his grown-up son was his natural deputy. during orion's absence, nilus, the head of the exchequer, a shrewd and judicious egyptian, had generally represented his invalid master; but on the present occasion orion was appointed to take his place, and to preside over the assembly. the governor's son hastened to his father's bedroom to beg him to lend him his ring as a token of the authority transferred to him; the mukaukas had willingly allowed him to take it off his finger, and had enjoined him to exercise relentless severity. generally he inclined to leniency; but breaking into a house was punishable with death, and in this instance it was but right to show no mercy, out of deference to the arab merchant. but orion, mindful of his covenant with paula, begged his father to give him full discretion. the old moslem was a just man, who would agree to a mitigated sentence under the circumstances; besides, the culprit was not in strict fact a member of the household, but in the service of a relation. the mukaukas applauded his son's moderation and judgment. if only he had been in rather better health he himself would have had the pleasure of being present at the sitting, to see him fulfil for the first time so important a function, worthy of his birth and position. orion kissed his father's hand with heart-felt but melancholy emotion, for this praise from the man he so truly loved was a keen pleasure; and yet he felt that it was of ill-omen that his duties as judge, of which he knew the sacred solemnity, should be thus--thus begun. it was in a softened mood, sunk in thought as to how he could best save hiram and leave paula's name altogether out of the matter, that he went to the hall of justice; and there he found the nurse perpetua in eager discussion with nilus. the old woman was quite beside herself. in the clatter of her loom she had heard nothing of what had been going on till a few minutes ago; now she was ready to swear to the luckless hiram's innocence. the stone he had sold had belonged to his young mistress, and thank god there was no lack of evidence of the fact; the setting of the emerald was lying safe and sound in paula's trunk. happily she had had an opportunity of speaking to her; and that she, the daughter of thomas, should be brought before the tribunal, like a citizen's daughter or slave-girl, was unheard of, shameful! at this orion roughly interfered; he desired the old gate-keeper to conduct perpetua at once to the storeroom next to the tablinum, where the various stuffs prepared for the use of the household were laid by, and to keep her there under safe guard till further notice. the tone in which he gave the order was such that even the nurse did not remonstrate; and nilus, for his part obeyed in silence when orion bid him return to his place among the judges. nilus went back to the judgment-hall in uneasy consternation. never before had he seen his young lord in this mood. as he heard the nurse's statement the veins had swelled in his smooth youthful forehead, his nostrils had quivered with convulsive agitation, his voice had lost all its sweetness, and his eyes had a sinister gleam. orion was now alone; he ground his teeth with rage. paula had betrayed him in spite of her promise, and how mean was her woman's cunning! she could be silent before the judges--yes. silent in all confidence now, to the very last; but the nurse, her mouthpiece, had already put nilus, the keenest and most important member of the court, in possession of the evidence which spoke for her and against him. it was shocking, disgraceful! base and deliberately malicious treachery. but the end was not yet: he still was free to act and to ward off the spiteful stroke by a counterthrust. how it should be dealt was clear from perpetua's statement; but his conscience, his instincts and long habits of submission to what was right, good, and fitting held him back. not only had he never himself done a base or a mean action; he loathed it in another, and the only thing he could do to render paula's perfidy harmless was, as he could not deny, original and bold, but at the same time detestable and shameful. still, he could not and he would not succumb in this struggle. time pressed. long reflection was impossible; suddenly he felt carried away by a fierce and mad longing to fight it out--he felt as he had felt on. a race-day in the hippodrome, when he had driven his own quadriga ahead of all the rest. onwards, then, onwards; and if the chariot were wrecked, if the horses were killed, if his wheels maimed his comrades overthrown in the arenastill, onwards, onwards! a few hasty steps brought him to the lodge of the gate-keeper, a sturdy old man who had held his post for forty years. he had formerly been a locksmith and it still was part of his duty to undertake the repairs of the simple household utensils. orion as a youth had been a beautiful and engaging boy and a great favorite with this worthy man; he had delighted in sitting in his little room and handing him the tools for his work. he himself had remarkable mechanical facility and had been the old man's apt pupil; nay, he had made such progress as to be able to carve pretty little boxes, prayer-book cases, and such like, and provide them with locks, as gifts to his parents on their birth days--a festival always kept with peculiar solemnity in egypt, and marked by giving and receiving presents. he understood the use of tools, and he now hastily selected such as he needed. on the window-ledge stood a bunch of flowers which he had ordered for paula the day before, and which he had forgotten to fetch this terrible morning. with this in one hand, and the tools in the breast of his robe he hastened upstairs. "onwards, i must keep on!" he muttered, as he entered paula's room, bolted the door inside and, kneeling before her chest, tossed the flowers aside. if he was discovered, he would say that he had gone into his cousin's chamber to give her the bouquet. "onwards; i must go on!" was still his thought, as he unscrewed the hinge on which the lid of the trunk moved. his hands trembled, his breath came fast, but he did his task quickly. this was the right way to work, for the lock was a peculiar one, and could not have been opened without spoiling it. he raised the lid, and the first thing his hand came upon in the chest was the necklace with the empty medallion--it was as though some kind genius were aiding him. the medallion hung but slightly to the elegantly-wrought chain; to detach it and conceal it about his person was the work of a minute. but now the most resolute. "on, on. . . ." was of no further avail. this was theft: he had robbed her whom, if she only had chosen it, he was ready to load with everything wherewith fate had so superabundantly blessed him. no, this--this.... a singular idea suddenly flashed through his brain; a thought which brought a smile to his lips even at this moment of frightful tension. he acted upon it forth with: he drew out from within his under-garment a gem that hung round his neck by a gold chain. this jewel--a masterpiece by one of the famous greek engravers of heathen antiquity--had been given him in constantinople in exchange for a team of four horses to which his greatest friend there had taken a fancy. it was in fact of greater price than half a dozen fine horses. half beside himself, and as if intoxicated, orion followed the wild impulse to which he had yielded; indeed, he was glad to have so precious a jewel at hand to hang in the place of the worthless gold frame-work. it was done with a pinch; but screwing up the hinge again was a longer task, for his hands trembled violently--and as the moment drew near in which he meant to let paula feel his power, the more quickly his heart beat, and the more difficult he found it to control his mind to calm deliberation. after he had unbolted the door he stood like a thief spying the long corridor of the strangers' wing, and this increased his excitement to a frenzy of rage with the world, and fate, and most of all with her who had compelled him to stoop to such base conduct. but now the charioteer had the reins and goad in his hand. onwards now, onwards! he flew down stairs, three steps at a time, as he had been wont when a boy. in the anteroom he met eudoxia, mary's greek governess, who had just brought her refractory pupil into the house, and he tossed her the nosegay he still held in his hands; then, without heeding the languishing glances the middle-aged damsel sent after him with her thanks, he hastened back to the gate-keeper's lodge where he hurriedly disburdened himself of the locksmith's tools. a few minutes later he entered the judgment-hall. nilus the treasurer showed him to the governor's raised seat, but an overpowering bashfulness kept him from taking this position of honor. it was with a burning brow, and looks so ominously dark that the assembly gazed at him with timid astonishment, that he opened the proceedings with a few broken sentences. he himself scarcely knew what he was saying, and heard his own voice as vaguely as though it were the distant roar of waves. however, he succeeded in clearly stating all that had happened: he showed the assembly the stone which had been stolen and recovered; he explained how the thief had been taken; he declared paula's freedman to be guilty of the robbery, and called upon him to bring forward anything he could in his own defence. but the accused could only stammer out that he was not guilty. he was not able to defend himself, but his mistress could no doubt give evidence that would justify him. orion pushed the hair from his forehead, proudly raised his aching head, and addressed the judges: "his mistress is a lady of rank allied to our house. let us keep her out of this odious affair as is but seemly. her nurse gave nilus some information which may perhaps avail to save this unhappy man. we will neglect nothing to that end; but you, who are less familiar with the leading circumstances, must bear this in mind to guard yourselves against being misled: this lady is much attached to the accused; she clings to him and perpetua as the only friends remaining to her from her native home. moreover, there is nothing to surprise me or you in the fact that a noble woman, as she is, should assume the onus of another's crime, and place herself in a doubtful light to save a man who has hitherto been honest and faithful. the nurse is here; shall she be called, or have you, nilus, heard from her everything that her mistress can say in favor of her freedman?" "perpetua told me, and told you, too, my lord, certain credible facts," replied the treasurer. "but i could not repeat them so exactly as she herself, and i am of opinion that the woman should be brought before the court." "then call her," said orion, fixing his eyes on vacancy above the heads of the assembly, with a look of sullen dignity. after a long and anxious pause the old woman was brought in. confident in her righteous cause she came forward boldly; she blamed hiram somewhat sharply for keeping silence so long, and then explained that paula, to procure money for her search for her father, had made the freedman take a costly emerald out of its setting in her necklace, and that it was the sale of this gem that had involved her fellow-countryman in this unfortunate suspicion. the nurse's deposition seemed to have biased the greater part of the council in favor of the accused; but orion did not give them time to discuss their impressions among themselves. hardly had perpetua ceased speaking, when orion took up the emerald, which was lying on the table before him, exclaiming excitedly, nay, angrily: "and the stone which is recognized by the man who sold it--an expert in gems--as being that which was taken from the hanging, and unique of its kind, is supposed, by some miracle of nature, to have suddenly appeared in duplicate?--malignant spirits still wander through the world, but would hardly dare to play their tricks in this christian house. you all know what 'old women's tales' are; and the tale that old woman has told us is one of the most improbable of its class. 'tell that to apelles the jew,' said horace the roman; but his fellow-israelite, gamaliel'--and he turned to the jeweller who was sitting with the other witnesses will certainly not believe it; still less i, who see through this tissue of falsehood. the daughter of the noble thomas has condescended to weave it with the help of that woman--a skilled weaver, she--to spread it before us in order to mislead us, and so to save her faithful servant from imprisonment, from the mines, or from death. these are the facts.--do i err, woman, or do you still adhere to your statement?" the nurse, who had hoped to find in orion her mistress' advocate, had listened to his speech with growing horror. her eyes flashed as she looked at him, first with mockery and then with vehement disgust; but, though they filled with tears at this unlooked-for attack, she preserved her presence of mind, and declared she had spoken the truth, and nothing but the truth, as she always did. the setting of her mistress' emerald would prove her statement. orion shrugged his shoulders, desired the woman to fetch her mistress, whose presence was now indispensable, and called to the treasurer: "go with her, nilus! and let a servant bring the trunk here that the owner may open it in the presence of us all and before any one else touches the contents. i should not be the right person to undertake it since no one in this jacobite household--hardly even one of yourselves-has found favor in the eyes of the melchite. she has unfortunately a special aversion for me, so i must depute to others every proceeding that could lead to a misunderstanding.--conduct her hither, nilus; of course with the respect due to a maiden of high rank." while the envoy was gone orion paced the room with swift, restless steps, once only he paused and addressed the judges: "but supposing the empty setting should be found, how do you account for the existence of two--two gems, each unique of its kind? it is distracting. here is a soft-hearted girl daring to mislead a serious council of justice for the sake, for the sake of. . . ." he stamped his foot with rage and continued his silent march. "he is as yet but a beginner," thought the assembled officials as they watched his agitation. "otherwise how could he allow such an absurd attempt to clear an accused thief to affect him so deeply, or disturb his temper?" paula's arrival presently put an end to orion's pacing the room. he received her with a respectful bow and signed to her to be seated. then he bid nilus recapitulate the results of the proceedings up to the present stage, and what he and his colleagues supposed to be her motive for asserting that the stolen emerald was her property. he would as far as possible leave it to the others to question her, since she knew full well on what terms she was with himself. even before he had come into the council-room she had offered her explanation of the robbery to nilus, through her nurse perpetua; but it would have seemed fairer and more friendly in his eyes--and here he raised his voice--if she had chosen to confide to him, orion, her plan for helping the freedman. then he might have been able to warn her. he could only regard this mode of action, independently of him, as a fresh proof of her dislike, and she must hold herself responsible for the consequences. justice must now take its course with inexorable rigor. the wrathful light in his eyes showed her what she had to expect from him, and that he was prepared to fight her to the end. she saw that he thought that she had broken the promise she had but just now given him; but she had not commissioned perpetua to interfere in the matter; on the contrary, she had desired the woman to leave it to her to produce her evidence only in the last extremity. orion must believe that she had done him a wrong; still, could that make him so far forget himself as to carry out his threats, and sacrifice an innocent man--to divert suspicion from himself, while he branded her as a false witness? aye, even from that he would not shrink! his flaming glance, his abrupt demeanor, his laboring breath, proclaimed it plainly enough.--then let the struggle begin! at this moment she would have died rather than have tried to mollify him by a word of excuse. the turmoil in his whole being vibrated through hers. she was ready to throw herself at his feet and implore him to control himself, to guard himself against further wrong-doing--but she maintained her proud dignity, and the eyes that met his were not less indignant and defiant than his own. they stood face to face like two young eagles preparing to fight, with feathers on end, arching their pinions and stretching their necks. she, confident of victory in the righteousness of her cause, and far more anxious for him than for herself; he, almost blind to his own danger, but, like a gladiator confronting his antagonist in the arena, far more eager to conquer than to protect his own life and limb. while nilus explained to her what, in part, she already knew, and repeated their suspicion that she had been tempted to make a false declaration to save the life of her servant, whose devotion, no doubt, to his missing master had led him to commit the robbery; she kept her eye on orion rather than on the speaker. at last nilus referred to the trunk, which had been brought from paula's room under her own eyes, informing her that the assembly were ready to hear and examine into anything she had to say in her own defence. orion's agitation rose to its highest pitch. he felt that the blood had fled from his cheeks, and his thoughts were in utter confusion. the council, the accused, his enemy paula--everything in the room lay before him shrouded in a whirl of green mist. all he saw seemed to be tinted with light emerald green. the hair, the faces, the dresses of those present gleamed and floated in a greenish light; and not till paula went up to the chest with a firm, haughty step, drew out a small key, gave it to the treasurer, and answered his speech with three words: "open the box!"--uttering them with cold condescension as though even this were too much--not till then did he see clearly once more: her bright brown hair, the fire of her blue eyes, the rose and white of her complexion, the light dress which draped her fine figure in noble folds, and her triumphant smile. how beautiful, how desirable was this woman! a few minutes and she would be worsted in this contest; but the triumph had cost him not only herself, but all that was good and pure in his soul, and worthy of his forefathers. an inward voice cried it out to him, but he drowned it in the shout of "onwards," like a chariot-driver. yes--on; still on towards the goal; away over ruins and stones, through blood and dust, till she bowed her proud neck, crushed and beaten, and sued for mercy. the lid of the trunk flew open. paula stooped, lifted the necklace, held it out to the judges, pulling it straight by the two ends.... ah! what a terrible, heartrending cry of despair! orion even, never, never wished to hear the like again. then she flung the jewel on the table, exclaiming: "shameful, shameful! atrocious!" she tottered backwards and clung to her faithful betta; for her knees were giving way, and she felt herself in danger of sinking to the ground. orion sprang forward to support her, but she thrust him aside, with a glance so full of anguish, rage and intense contempt that he stood motionless, and clasped his hand over his heart.--and this deed, which was to work such misery for two human beings, he had smiled in doing! this practical joke which concealed a death-warrant--to what fearful issues might it not lead? paula had sunk speechless on to a seat, and he stood staring in silence, till a burst of laughter broke from the assembly and old psamtik, the captain of the guard, who had long been a member of the council of justice, exclaimed: "by my soul, a splendid stone! there is the heathen god eros with his winged sweetheart psyche smiling in his face. did you never read that pretty story by apuleius--'the golden ass' it is called? the passage is in that. holy luke! how finely it is carved. the lady has taken out the wrong necklace. look, gamaliel, where could your green pigeon's egg have found a place in that thing?" and he pointed to the gem. "nowhere," said the jew. "the noble lady. . ." but orion roughly bid the witness to be silent, and nilus, taking up the engraved gem, examined it closely. then he--he the grave, just man, on whose support paula had confidently reckoned--went up to her and with a regretful shrug asked her whether the other necklace with the setting of which she had spoken was in the trunk. the blood ran cold in her veins. this thing that had happened was as startling as a miracle. but no! no higher power had anything to do with this blow. orion believed that she had failed in her promise of screening him by her silence, and this, this was his revenge. by what means--how he had gone to work, was a mystery. what a trick!--and it had succeeded! but should she take it like a patient child? no. a thousand times no! suddenly all her old powers of resistance came back; hatred steeled her wavering will; and, as in fancy, he had seen himself in the circus, driving in a race, so she pictured herself seated at the chessboard. she felt herself playing with all her might to win; but not, as with his father, for flowers, trifling presents or mere glory; nay, for a very different stake life or death! she would do everything, anything to conquer him; and yet, no--come what might--not everything. sooner would she succumb than betray him as the thief or reveal what she had discovered in the viridarium. she had promised to keep the secret; and she would repay the father's kindness by screening the son from this disgrace. how beautiful, how noble had orion's image been in her heart. she would not stain it with this disgrace in her own eyes and in those of the world. but every other reservation must be cast far, far away, to snatch the victory from him and to save hiram. every fair weapon she might use; only this treachery she could not, might not have recourse to. he must be made to feel that she was more magnanimous than he; that she, under all conceivable circumstances, kept her word. that was settled; her bosom once more rose and fell, and her eye brightened again; still it was some little time before she could find the right words with which to begin the contest. orion could see the seething turmoil in her soul; he felt that she was arming herself for resistance, and he longed to spur her on to deal the first blow. not a word had she uttered of surprise or anger, not a syllable of reproach had passed her lips. what was she thinking of, what was she plotting? the more startling and dangerous the better; the more bravely she bore herself, the more completely in the background might he leave the painful sense of fighting against a woman. even heroes had boasted of a victory over amazons. at last, at last!--she rose and went towards hiram. he had been tied to the stake to which criminals were bound, and as an imploring glance from his honest eyes met hers, the spell that fettered her tongue was unloosed; she suddenly understood that she had not merely to protect herself, but to fulfil a solemn duty. with a few rapid steps she went up to the table at which her judges sat in a semi-circle, and leaning on it with her left hand, raised her right high in the air, exclaiming: "you are the victims of a cruel fraud; and i of an unparalleled and wicked trick, intended to bring me to ruin!--look at that man at the stake. does he look like a robber? a more honest and faithful servant never earned his freedom, and the gratitude hiram owed to his master, my father, he has discharged to the daughter for whose sake he quitted his home, his wife and child. he followed me, an orphan, here into a strange land.--but that matters not to you.--still, if you will hear the truth, the strict and whole. . . ." "speak!" orion put in; but she went on, addressing herself exclusively to nilus, and his peers, and ignoring him completely: "your president, the son of the mukaukas, knows that, instead of the accused, i might, if i chose, be the accuser. but i scorn it--for love of his father, and because i am more high-minded than he. he will understand!--with regard to this particular emerald hiram, my freedman, took it out of its setting last evening, under my eyes, with his knife; other persons besides us, thank god! have seen the setting, empty, on the chain to which it belonged. this afternoon it was still in the place to which some criminal hand afterwards found access, and attached that gem instead. that i have just now seen for the first time--i swear it by christ's wounds. it is an exquisite work. only a very rich man--the richest man here, can give away such a treasure, for whatever purpose he may have in view--to destroy an enemy let us say.--gamaliel," and she turned to the jew--"at what sum would you value that onyx?" the israelite asked to see the gem once more; he turned it about, and then said with a grin: "well, fair lady, if my black hen laid me little things like that i would feed it on cakes from arsinoe and oysters from canopus. the stone is worth a landed estate, and though i am not a rich man, i would pay down two talents for it at any moment, even if i had to borrow the money." this statement could not fail to make a great impression on the judges. orion, however, exclaimed: "wonders on wonders mark this eventful day! the prodigal generosity which had become an empty name has revived again among us! some lavish demon has turned a worthless plate of gold into a costly gem.--and may i ask who it was that saw the empty setting hanging to your chain?" paula was in danger of forgetting even that last reserve she had imposed on herself; she answered with trembling accents: "apparently your confederates or you yourself did. you, and you alone, have any cause. . . ." but he would not allow her to proceed. he abruptly interrupted her, exclaiming: "this is really too much! oh, that you were a man! how far your generosity reaches i have already seen. even hatred, the bitterest hostility. . . ." "they would have every right to ruin you completely!" she cried, roused to the utmost. "and if i were to charge you with the most horrible crime. . . ." "you yourself would be committing a crime, against me and against this house," he said menacingly. "beware! can self-delusion go so far that you dare to appeal to me to testify to the fable you have trumped up...." "no. oh, no! that would be counting on some honesty in you yet," she loudly broke in. "i have other witnesses: "mary, the granddaughter of the mukaukas," and she tried to catch his eye. "the child whose little heart you have won, and who follows you about like a pet dog!" he cried. "and besides mary, katharina, the widow susannah's daughter," she added, sure of her triumph, and the color mounted to her cheeks. "she is no longer a child, but a maiden grown, as you know. i therefore demand of you--" and she again turned to the assembly--"that you will fulfil your functions worthily and promote justice in my behalf by calling in both these witnesses and hearing their evidence." on this orion interposed with forced composure: "as to whether a softhearted child ought to be exposed to the temptation to save the friend she absolutely worships by giving evidence before the judges, be it what it may, only her grandparents can decide. her tender years would at any rate detract from the validity of her evidence, and i am averse to involving a child of this house in this dubious affair. with regard to katharina, it is, on the contrary, the duty of this court to request her presence, and i offer myself to go and fetch her." he resolutely resisted paula's attempts to interrupt him again: she should have a patient hearing presently in the presence of her witness. the gem no doubt had come to her from her father. but at this her righteous indignation was again too much for her; she cried out quite beside herself: "no, and again no. some reprobate scoundrel, an accomplice of yours-yes, i repeat it--made his way into my room while i was in the sick-room, and either forced the lock of my trunk or opened it with a false key." "that can easily be proved," said orion. in a confident tone he desired that the box should be placed on the table, and requested one of the council, who understood such matters, to give his opinion. paula knew the man well. he was one of the most respected members of the household, the chief mechanician whose duty it was to test and repair the waterclocks, balances, measures and other instruments. he at once proceeded to examine the lock and found it in perfect order, though the key, which was of peculiar form, could certainly not have found a substitute in any false key; and paula was forced to admit that she had left the trunk locked at noon and had worn the key round her neck ever since. orion listened to his opinion with a shrug, and before going to seek katharina gave orders that paula and the nurse should be conducted to separate rooms. to arrive at any clear decision in this matter, it was necessary that any communication between these two should be rendered impossible. as soon as the door was shut on them he hastened into the garden, where he hoped to find katharina. the council looked after him with divided feelings. they were here confronted by riddles that were hard to solve. no one of them felt that he had a right to doubt the good intentions of their lord's son, whom they looked up to as a talented and high-minded youth. his dispute with paula had struck them painfully, and each one asked himself how it was that such a favorite with women should have failed to rouse any sentiment but that of hatred in one of the handsomest of her sex. the marked hostility she displayed to orion injured her cause in the eyes of her judges, who knew only too well how unpleasant her relations were with neforis. it was more than audacious in her to accuse the mukaukas' son of having broken open her trunk; only hatred could have prompted her to utter such a charge. still, there was something in her demeanor which encouraged confidence in her assertions, and if katharina could really testify to having seen the empty medallion on the chain there would be no alternative but to begin the enquiry again from a fresh point of view, and to inculpate another robber. but who could have lavished such a treasure as this gem in exchange for mere rubbish? it was inconceivable; ammonius the mechanician was right when he said that a woman full of hatred was capable of anything, even the incredible and impossible. meanwhile it was growing dusk and the scorching day had turned to the tempered heat of a glorious evening. the mukaukas was still in his room while his wife with susannah and her daughter, mary and her governess, were enjoying the air and chatting in the open hall looking out on the garden and the nile. the ladies had covered their heads with gauze veils as a protection against the mosquitoes, which were attracted in swarms from the river by the lights, and also against the mists that rose from the shallowing nile; they were in the act of drinking some cooling fruitsyrup which had just been brought in, when orion made his appearance. "what has happened?" cried his mother in some anxiety, for she concluded from his dishevelled hair and heated cheeks that the meeting had gone anything rather than smoothly. "incredible things," he replied. "paula fought like a lioness for her father's freedman. . ." "simply to annoy us and put us in a difficulty," replied neforis. "no, no, mother," replied orion with some warmth. "but she has a will of iron; a woman who never pauses at anything when she wants to carry her point; and at the same time she goes to work with a keen wit that is worthy of the greatest lawyer that i ever heard defend a cause in the high court of the capital. besides this her air of superiority, and her divine beauty turn the heads of our poor household officers. it is fine and noble, of course, to be so zealous in the cause of a servant; but it can do no good, for the evidence against her stammering favorite is overwhelming, and when her last plea is demolished the matter is ended. she says that she showed a necklace to the child, and to you, charming katharina." "showed it?" cried the young girl. "she took it away from us--did not she, mary?" "well, we had taken it without her leave," replied the child. "and she wants our children to appear in a court of justice to bear witness for her highness?" asked neforis indignantly. "certainly," replied orion. "but mary's evidence is of no value in law." "and even if it were," replied his mother, "the child should not be mixed up with this disgraceful business under any circumstances." "because i should speak for paula!" cried mary, springing up in great excitement. "you will just hold your tongue," her grandmother exclaimed. "and as for katharina," said the widow, "i do not at all like the notion of her offering herself to be stared at by all those gentlemen." "gentlemen!" observed the girl. "men--household officials and such like. they may wait long enough for me!" "you must nevertheless do their bidding, haughty rosebud," said orion laughing. "for you, thank god, are no longer a child, and a court of justice has the right of requiring the presence of every grown person as a witness. no harm will come to you, for you are under my protection. come with me. we must learn every lesson in life. resistance is vain. besides, all you will have to do will be to state what you have seen, and then, if i possibly can, i will bring you back under the tender escort of this arm, to your mother once more. you must entrust your jewel to me to-day, susannah, and this trustworthy witness shall tell you afterwards how she fared under my care." katharina was quite capable of reading the implied meaning of these words, and she was not ill-pleased to be obliged to go off alone with the governor's handsome son, the first man for whom her little heart had beat quicker; she sprang up eagerly; but mary clung to her arm, and insisted so vehemently and obstinately on being taken with them to bear witness in paula's behalf, that her governess and dame neforis had the greatest difficulty in reducing her to obedience and letting the pair go off without her. both mothers looked after them with great satisfaction, and the governor's wife whispered to susannah: "before the judges to-day, but ere long, please god, before the altar at church!" to reach the hall of judgment they could go either through the house or round it. if the more circuitous route were chosen, it lay first through the garden; and this was the course taken by orion. he had made a very great effort in the presence of the ladies to remain master of the agitation that possessed him; he saw that the battle he had begun, and from which he, at any rate, could not and would not now retire, was raging more and more fiercely, obliging him to drag the young creature who must become his wife--the die was already cast--into the course of crime he had started on. when he had agreed with his mother that he was not to prefer his suit for katharina till the following day, he had hoped to prove to her in the interval that this little thing was no wife for him; and now--oh! irony of fate--he found himself compelled to the very reverse of what he longed to do: to fight the woman he loved--yes, still loved--as if she were his mortal foe, and pay his court to the girl who really did not suit him. it was maddening, but inevitable; and once more spurring himself with the word "onwards!" be flung himself into the accomplishment of the unholy task of subduing the inexperienced child at his elbow into committing even a crime for his sake. his heart was beating wildly; but no pause, no retreat was possible: he must conquer. "onwards, then, onwards!" when they had passed out of the light of the lamps into the shade he took his young companion's slender hand-thankful that the darkness concealed his features--and pressed the delicate fingers to his lips. "oh!--orion!" she exclaimed shyly, but she did not resist. "i only claim my due, sunshine of my soul!" he said insinuatingly. "if your heart beat as loud as mine, our mothers might hear them!" "but it does!" she joyfully replied, her curly head bent on one side. "not as mine does," he said with a sigh, laying her little hand on his heart. he could do so in all confidence, for its spasmodic throbbing threatened to suffocate him. "yes indeed," she said. "it is beating. . ." "so that they can hear it indoors," he added with a forced laugh. "do you think your dear mother has not long since read our feelings?" "of course she has," whispered katharina. "i have rarely seen her in such good spirits as since your return." "and you, you little witch?" "i? of course i was glad--we all were.--and your parents!" "nay, nay, katharina! what you yourself felt when we met once more, that is what i want to know." "oh, let that pass! how can i describe such a thing?" "is that quite impossible?" he asked and clasped her arm more closely in his own. he must win her over, and his romantic fancy helped him to paint feelings he had never had, in glowing colors. he poured out sweet words of love, and she was only too ready to believe them. at a sign from him she sat down confidingly on a wooden bench in the old avenue which led to the northern side of the house. flowers were opening on many of the shrubs and shedding rich, oppressive perfume. the moonlight pierced through the solemn foliage of the sycamores, and shimmering streaks and rings of light played in the branches, on the trunks, and on the dark ground. the heat of the day still lingered in the leafy roofs overhead, sultry and heavy even now; and in this alley he called her for the first time his own, his betrothed, and enthralled her heart in chains and bonds. each fervent word thrilled with the wild and painful agitation that was torturing his soul, and sounded heartfelt and sincere. the scent of flowers, too, intoxicated her young and inexperienced heart; she willingly offered her lips to his kisses, and with exquisite bliss felt the first glow of youthful love returned. she could have lingered thus with him for a lifetime; but in a few minutes he sprang up, anxious to put an end to this tender dalliance which was beginning to be too much even for him, and exclaimed: "this cursed, this infernal trial! but such is the fate of man! duty calls, and he must return from all the bliss of paradise to the world again. give me your arm, my only love, my all!" and katharina obeyed. dazzled and bewildered by the extraordinary happiness that had come to meet her, she allowed him to lead her on, listening with suspended breath as he added: "out of this beatitude back to the sternest of duties!--and how odious, how immeasurably loathesome is the case in question! how gladly would i have been a friend to paula, a faithful protector instead of a foe!" as he spoke he felt the girl's left hand clench tighter on his arm, and this spurred him on in his guilty purpose. katharina herself had suggested to his mind the course he must pursue to attain his end. he went on to influence her jealousy by praising paula's charm and loftiness, excusing himself in his own eyes by persuading himself that a lover was justified in inducing his betrothed to save his happiness and his honor. still, as he uttered each flattering word, he felt that he was lowering himself and doing a fresh injustice to paula. he found it only too easy to sing her praises; but as he did so with growing enthusiasm katharina hit him on the arm exclaiming, half in jest and half seriously vexed: "oh, she is a goddess! and pray do you love her or me? you had better not make me jealous! do you hear?" "you little simpleton!" he said gaily; and then he added soothingly: "she is like the cold moon, but you are the bright warming sun. yes, paula!--we will leave paula to some olympian god, some archangel. i rejoice in my gladsome little maiden who will enjoy life with me, and all its pleasures!" "that we will!" she exclaimed triumphantly; the horizon of her future was radiant with sunshine. "good heavens!" he exclaimed as if in surprise. "the lights are already shining in that miserable hall of justice! ah, love, love! under that enchantment we had forgotten the object for which we came out.--tell me, my darling, do you remember exactly what the necklace was like that you and mary were playing with this afternoon?" "it was very finely wrought, but in the middle hung a rubbishy broken medallion of gold." "you are a pretty judge of works of art! then you overlooked the fine engraved gem which was set in that modest gold frame?" "certainly not." "i assure you, little wise-head!" "no, my dearest." as she spoke she looked up saucily, as though she had achieved some great triumph. "i know very well what gems are. my father left a very fine collection, and my mother says that by his will they are all to belong to my future husband." "then i can set you, my jewel, in a frame of the rarest gems." "no, no," she cried gaily. "let me have a setting indeed, for i am but a fugitive thing; but only, only in your heart." "that piece of goldsmith's work is already done.--but seriously my child; with regard to paula's necklace: it really was a gem, and you must have happened to see only the back of it. that is just as you describe it: a plain setting of gold." "but orion. . . ." "if you love me, sweetheart, contradict me no further. in the future i will always accept your views, but in this case your mistake might involve us in a serious misunderstanding, by compelling me to give in to paula and make her my ally.--here we are! but wait one moment longer.-and once more, as to this gem. you see we may both be wrong--i as much as you; but i firmly believe that i am in the right. if you make a statement contrary to mine i shall appear before the judges as a liar. we are now betrothed--we are but one, wholly one; what damages or dignifies one of us humiliates or elevates the other. if you, who love me--you, who, as it is already whispered, are soon to be the mistress of the governor's house--make a statement opposed to mine they are certain to believe it. you see, your whole nature is pure kindness, but you are still too young and innocent quite to understand all the duties of that omnipotent love which beareth and endureth all things. if you do not yield to me cheerfully in this case you certainly do not love me as you ought. and what is it to ask? i require nothing of you but that you should state before the court that you saw paula's necklace at noon to-day, and that there was a gem hanging to it--a gem with love and psyche engraved on it." "and i am to say that before all those men?" asked katharina doubtfully. "you must indeed, you kind little angel!" cried orion tenderly. "and do you think it pretty in a betrothed bride to refuse her lover's first request so grudgingly, suspiciously, and ungraciously? nay, nay. if there is the tiniest spark of love for me in your heart, if you do not want to see me reduced to implore paula for mercy. . . ." "but what is it all about? how can it matter so much to any one whether a gem or a mere plate of gold....?" "all that i will explain later," he hastily replied. "tell me now...." "impossible. we have already put the patience of the judges to too severe a test. we have not a moment to lose." "very well then; but i shall die of confusion and shame if i have to make a declaration. . . ." "which is perfectly truthful, and by which you can prove to me that you love me," he urged. "but it is dreadful!" she exclaimed anxiously. "at least fasten my veil closely over my face.--all those bearded men. . . ." "like the ostrich," said orion, laughing as he complied. "if you really cannot agree with your.... what is it you called me just now? say it again." "my dearest!" she said shyly but tenderly. she helped orion to fold her veil twice over her face, and did not thrust him aside when he whispered in her ear: "let us see if a kiss cannot be sweet even through all that wrapping!--now, come. it will be all over in a few minutes." he led the way into the anteroom to the great hall, begged her to wait a moment, and then went in and hastily informed the assembly that dame susannah had entrusted her daughter to him only on condition that he should escort her back again as soon as she had given her testimony. then paula was brought in and he desired her to be seated. it was with a sinking and anxious heart that katharina had entered the anteroom. she had screened herself from a scolding before now by trivial subterfuges, but never had told a serious lie; and every instinct rebelled against the demand that she should now state a direct falsehood. but could orion, the noblest of mankind, the idol of the whole town, so pressingly entreat her to do anything that was wrong? did not love--as he had said--make it her duty to do everything that might screen him from loss or injury? it did not seem to her to be quite as it should be, but perhaps she did not altogether understand the matter; she was so young and inexperienced. she hated the idea, too, that, if she opposed her lover, he would have to come to terms with paula. she had no lack of self-possession, and she told herself that she might hold her own with any girl in memphis; still, she felt the superiority of the handsome, tall, proud syrian, nor could she forget how, the day before yesterday, when paula had been walking up and down the garden with orion the chief officer of memphis had exclaimed: "what a wonderfully handsome couple!" she herself had often thought that no more beautiful, elegant and lovable creature than thomas' daughter walked the earth; she had longed and watched for a glance or a kind word from her. but since hearing those words a bitter feeling had possessed her soul against paula, and there had been much to foster it. paula always treated her like a child instead of a grown-up girl, as she was. why, that very morning, had she sought out her betrothed--for she might call him so now--and tried to keep her away from him? and how was it that orion, even while declaring his love for her, had spoken more than warmly--enthusiastically of paula? she must be on her guard, and though others should speak of the great good fortune that had fallen to her lot, paula, at any rate, would not rejoice in it, for katharina felt and knew that she was not indifferent to orion. she had not another enemy in the world, but paula was one; her love had everything to fear from her--and suddenly she asked herself whether the gold medallion she had seen might not indeed have been a gem? had she examined the necklace closely, even for a moment? and why should she fancy she had sharper sight than orion with his large, splendid eyes? he was right, as he always was. most engraved gems were oval in form, and the pendant which she had seen and was to give evidence about, was undoubtedly oval. then it was not like orion to require a falsehood of her. in any case it was her duty to her betrothed to preserve from evil, and prevent him from concluding any alliance with that false siren. she knew what she had to say; and she was about to loosen a portion of her veil from her face that she might look paula steadfastly in the eyes, when orion came back to fetch her into the hall where the court was sitting. to his delight--nay almost to his astonishment--she stated with perfect confidence that a gem had been hanging to paula's necklace at noon that day; and when the onyx was shown her and she was asked if she remembered the stone, she calmly replied: "it may or it may not be the same; i only remember the oval gold back to it: besides i was only allowed to have the necklace in my hands for a very short time." when nilus, the treasurer, desired her to look more closely at the figures of eros and psyche to refresh her memory, she evaded it by saying: "i do not like such heathen images: we jacobite maidens wear different adornments." at this paula rose and stepped towards her with a look of stern reproof; little katharina was glad now that it had occurred to her to cover her face with a double veil. but the utter confusion she felt under the syrian girl's gaze did not last long. paula exclaimed reproach fully: "you speak of your faith. like mine, it requires you to respect the truth. consider how much depends on your declaration; i implore you, child. . ." but the girl interrupted her rival exclaiming with much irritation and vehement excitement: "i am no longer a child, not even as compared with you; and i think before i speak, as i was taught to do." she threw back her little head with a confident air, and said very decidedly: "that onyx hung to the middle of the chain." "how dare you, you audacious hussy!" it was perpetua, quite unable to contain herself, who flung the words in her face. katharina started as though an asp had stung her and turned round on the woman who had dared to insult her so grossly and so boldly. she was on the verge of tears as she looked helplessly about her for a defender; but she had not long to wait, for orion instantly gave orders that perpetua should be imprisoned for bearing false witness. paula, however, as she had not perjured herself, but had merely invented an impossible tale with a good motive, was dismissed, and her chest was to be replaced in her room. at this paula once more stepped forth; she unhooked the onyx from the chain and flung it towards gamaliel, who caught it, while she exclaimed: "i make you a present of it, jew! perhaps the villain who hung it to my chain may buy it back again. the chain was given to my great-grandmother by the saintly theodosius, and rather than defile it by contact with that gift from a villain, i will throw it into the nile!--you--you, poor, deluded judges--i cannot be wroth with you, but i pity you!--my hiram..." and she looked at the freedman, "is an honest soul whom i shall remember with gratitude to my dying day; but as to that unrighteous son of a most righteous father, that man. . ." and she raised her voice, while she pointed straight at orion's face; but the young man interrupted her with a loud: "enough!" she tried to control herself and replied: "i will submit. your conscience will tell you a hundred times over what i need not say. one last word. . ." she went close up to him and said in his ear: "i have been able to refrain from using my deadliest weapon against you for the sake of keeping my word. now you, if you are not the basest wretch living, keep yours, and save hiram." his only reply was an assenting nod; paula paused on the threshold and, turning to katharina, she added: "you, child--for you are but a child-with what nameless suffering will not the son of the mukaukas repay you for the service you have rendered him!" then she left the room. her knees trembled under her as she mounted the stairs, but when she had again taken her place by the side of the hapless, crazy girl a merciful god granted her the relief of tears. her friend saw her and left her to weep undisturbed, till she herself called him and confided to him all she had gone through in the course of this miserable day. orion and katharina had lost their good spirits; they went back to the colonnade in a dejected mood. on the way she pressed him to explain to her why he had insisted on her making this declaration, but he put her off till the morrow. they found susannah alone, for his mother had been sent for by her husband, who was suffering more than usual, and she had taken mary with her. after bidding the widow good-night and escorting her to her chariot, he returned to the hall where the court was still sitting. there he recapitulated the case as it now stood, and all the evidence against the freed man. the verdict was then pronounced: hiram was condemned to death with but one dissentient voice that of nilus the treasurer. orion ordered that the execution of the sentence should be postponed; he did not go back into the house, however, but had his most spirited horse saddled and rode off alone into the desert. he had won, but he felt as though in this race he had rushed into a morass and must be choked in it. etext editor's bookmarks: love has two faces: tender devotion and bitter aversion self-interest and egoism which drive him into the cave the man who avoids his kind and lives in solitude you have a habit of only looking backwards this ebook was produced by david widger <widger@cecomet.net> [note: there is a short list of bookmarks, or pointers, at the end of the file for those who may wish to sample the author's ideas before making an entire meal of them. d.w.] the burgomaster's wife by georg ebers volume 4. chapter xx. the burgomaster's wife had been anxious about henrica, but the latter greeted her with special cheerfulness and met her gentle reproaches with the assurance that this morning had done her good. fate, she said, was just, and if it were true that confidence of recovery helped the physician, doctor bontius would have an easy task with her. the dead castilian must be the wretch, who had plunged her sister anna into misery. maria, surprised, but entirely relieved, left her and sought her husband to tell him how she had found the invalid, and in what relation the spanish officer, slain by allertssohn, seemed to have stood to henrica and her sister. peter only half listened to her, and when barbara brought him a freshly-ironed ruff, interrupted his wife in the middle of her story, gave her the dead man's letter-case, and said: "there, let her satisfy herself, and bring it to me again in the evening, i shall hardly be able to come to dinner; i suppose you'll see poor allertssohn's widow in the course of the day." "certainly," she answered eagerly. "whom will you appoint in his place?" "that is for the prince to decide." "have you thought of any means of keeping the communication with delft free from the enemy?" "on your mother's account?" "not solely. rotterdam also lies to the south. we can expect nothing from haarlem and amsterdam, that is, from the north, for everything there is in the hands of the spaniards." "i'll get you a place in the council of war. where do you learn your wisdom?" "we have our thoughts, and isn't it natural that i should rather follow you into the future with my eyes open, than blindly? has the english troop been used to secure the fortifications on the old canal? kaak too is an important point." peter gazed at his wife in amazement, and the sense of discomfort experienced by an unskilful writer, when some one looks over his shoulder, stole over him. she had pointed out a bad, momentous error, which, it is true, did not burden him alone, and as he certainly did not wish to defend it to her, and moreover might have found justification difficult, he made no reply, saying nothing but: "men's affairs! goodbye until evening." with these words he walked past barbara, towards the door. maria did not know how it happened, but before he laid his hand on the latch she gained sufficient self-command to call after him: "are you going so, peter! is that right? what did you promise me on your return from the journey to the prince?" "i know, i know," he answered impatiently. "we cannot serve two masters, and in these times i beg you not to trouble me with questions and matters that don't concern you. to direct the business of the city is my affair; you have your invalid, the children, the poor; let that suffice." without waiting for her reply he left the room, while she stood motionless, gazing after him. barbara watched her anxiously for several minutes, then busied herself with the papers on her brother's writing-table, saying as if to herself, though turning slightly towards her sister-in-law: "evil times! let every one, who is not oppressed with such burdens as peter, thank the lord. he has to bear the responsibility of everything, and people can't dance lightly with hundred-pound weights on their legs. nobody has a better heart, and nobody means more honestly. how the traders at the fair praised his caution! in the storm people know the pilot, and peter was always greatest, when things were going worst. he knows what he is undertaking, but the last few weeks have aged him years." maria nodded. barbara left the room, but returning after a few minutes, said beseechingly: "you look ill, child, come and lie down. an hour's sleep is better than three meals. at your age, such a night as this last one doesn't pass without leaving traces. the sun is shining so brightly, that i've drawn your window-curtains. i've made your bed, too. be sensible and come." while uttering the last words, she took maria's hand and drew her away. the young wife made no resistance, and though her eyes did not remain dry when she was alone, sleep soon overpowered her. towards noon, refreshed by slumber, and newly dressed, she went to the captain's house. her own heart was heavy, and compassion for herself and her own fate again had the mastery. eva peterstochter, the fencingmaster's widow, a quiet, modest woman, whom she scarcely knew by sight, did not appear. she was sitting alone in her room, weeping, but maria found in her house the musician, wilhelm, who had spoken comforting words to his old friend's son, and promised to take charge of him and make him a good performer. the burgomaster's wife sent a message to the widow, begging to see her the next day, and then went out into the street with wilhelm. everywhere groups of citizens, women, and journeymen were standing together, talking about what had happened and the coming trouble. while maria was telling the musician who the dead castilian was, and that henrica desired to speak with him, wilhelm, as soon as possible, she was interrupted more than once; for sometimes a company of volunteers or city guards, relieved from duty in the towers and on the walls, sometimes a cannon barred their way. was it the anticipation of coming events, or the beat of drums and blare of trumpets, which so excited her companion, that he often pressed his hand to his forehead and she was obliged to request him to slacken his pace. there was a strange, constrained tone in his voice as, in accordance with her request, he told her that the spaniards had come by ship up the amstel, the drecht, and the brasem see to the rhine and landed at leyderdorp. a mounted messenger wearing the prince's colors, and followed not only by children, but by grown persons, who ran after him eager to reach the town-hall at the same time, interrupted wilhelm, and as soon as the crowd had passed, the burgomaster's wife asked her companion one question after another. the noise of war, the firing audible in the distance, the gay military costumes everywhere to be seen in place of the darker citizens' dress, also aroused her eager interest, and what she learned from wilhelm was little calculated to diminish it. the main body of the spanish troops was on the way to the hague. the environment of the city had commenced, but the enemy could hardly succeed in his purpose; for the english auxiliaries, who were to defend the new fortifications of valkenburg, the village of alfen, and the gouda sluice might be trusted. wilhelm had seen the british soldiers, their commander, colonel chester, and captain gensfort, and praised their superb equipments and stately bearing. on reaching her own house, maria attempted to take leave of her companion, but the latter earnestly entreated permission to have an interview with henrica at once, and could scarcely be convinced that he must have patience until the doctor had given his consent. at dinner adrian, who when his father was not present, talked freely enough, related all sorts of things he had seen himself, as well as news and rumors heard at school and in the street, his eloquence being no little encouraged by his step-mother's eager questions. intense anxiety had taken possession of the burgomaster's wife. her enthusiasm for the cause of liberty, to which her most beloved relatives had fallen victims, blazed brightly, and wrath against the oppressors of her native land seethed passionately in her breast. the delicate, maidenly, reserved woman, who was utterly incapable of any loud or rude expression of feeling in ordinary life, would now have rushed to the walls, like kanau hasselaer of haarlem, to fight the foe among the men. offended pride, and everything that an hour ago had oppressed her heart, yielded to sympathy for her country's cause. animated with fresh courage, she went to henrica and, as evening had closed in, sat down by the lamp to write to her mother; for she had neglected to do so since the invalid's arrival, and communication with delft might soon be interrupted. when she read over the completed letter, she was satisfied with it and herself, for it breathed firm confidence in the victory of the good cause, and also distinctly and unconstrainedly expressed her cheerful willingness to bear the worst. barbara had retired when peter at last appeared, so weary that he could scarcely touch the meal that had been kept ready for him. while raising the food to his lips, he confirmed the news maria had already heard from the musician, and was gentle and kind, but his appearance saddened her, for it recalled barbara's allusion to the heavy burden he had assumed. to-day, for the first time, she noticed two deep lines that anxiety had furrowed between his eyes and lips, and full of tender compassion, went behind him, laid her hands on his cheeks and kissed him on the forehead. he trembled slightly, seized her slender right hand so impetuously that she shrank back, raised it first to his lips, then to his eyes, and held it there for several minutes. at last he rose, passed before her into his sleeping-room, bade her an affectionate good-night, and lay down to rest. when she too sought her bed, he was breathing heavily. extreme fatigue had quickly overpowered him. the slumber of both was destined to be frequently interrupted during this night, and whenever maria woke, she heard her husband sigh and moan. she did not stir, that she might not disturb the sleep he sought and needed, and twice held her breath, for he was talking to himself. first he murmured softly: "heavy, too heavy," and then: "if i can only bear it." when she awoke next morning, he had already left the room and gone to the town-hall. at noon he returned home, saying that the spaniards had taken the hague and been hailed with delight by the pitiful adherents of the king. fortunately, the well-disposed citizens and beggars had had time to escape to delft, for brave nicolas ruichhaver had held the foe in check for a time at geestburg. the west was still open, and the newlyfortified fort of valkenburg, garrisoned by the english soldiers, would not be so easy to storm. on the east, other british auxiliaries were posted at alfen in the spaniards' rear. the burgomaster told all this unasked, but did not speak as freely and naturally as when conversing with men. while talking, he often looked into his plate and hesitated. it seemed as if he were obliged to impose a certain restraint upon himself, in order to speak before women, servants, and children, of matters he was in the habit of discussing only with men of his own position. maria listened attentively, but maintained a modest reserve, urging him only by loving looks and sympathizing exclamations, while barbara boldly asked one question after another. the meal was approaching an end, when junker von warmond entered unannounced, and requested the burgomaster to accompany him at once, for colonel chester was standing before the white gate with a portion of his troops, asking admittance to the city. at these tidings, peter dashed his mug of beer angrily on the table, sprang from his seat, and left the room before the nobleman. during the late hours of the afternoon, the van der werff house was crowded with people. the gossips came to talk over with barbara the events occurring at the white gate. burgomaster van swieten's wife had heard from her own husband, that the englishmen, without making any resistance, had surrendered the beautiful new fort of valkenburg and taken to their heels, at the mere sight of the spaniards. the enemy had marched out from haarlem through the downs above nordwyk, and it would have been an easy matter for the britons to hold the strong position. "fine aid such helpers give!" cried barbara indignantly. "let queen elizabeth keep the men on her island for herself, and send us the women." "yet they are real sons of anak, and bear themselves like trim soldiers," said the wife of the magistrate heemskerk. "high boots, doublets of fine leather, gay plumes in their morions and hats, large coats of mail, halberds that would kill half a dozen--and all like new." "they probably didn't want to spoil them, and so found a place of safety as soon as possible, the windy cowards," cried the wife of church-warden de haes, whose sharp tongue was well known. "you seem to have looked at them very closely, frau margret." "from the wind-mill at the gate," replied the other. "the envoy stopped on the bridge directly under us. a handsome man on a stately horse. his trumpeter too was mounted, and the velvet cloth on his trumpet bristled with beautiful embroidery in gold thread and jewels. they earnestly entreated admittance, but the gate remained closed." "right, right!" cried frau heemskerk. "i don't like the prince's commissioner, van bronkhorst. what does he care for us, if only the queen doesn't get angry and withdraw the subsidies? i've heard he wants to accommodate chester and grant him admission." "he would like to do so," added frau van hout. "but your husband, frau maria, and mine--i was talking with him on the way here--will make every effort to prevent it. the two seigneurs of nordwyk are of their opinion, so perhaps the commissioner will be out-voted." "may god grant it!" cried the resolute voice of wilhelm's mother. "by to-morrow or the day after, not even a cat will be allowed to leave the gates, and my husband says we must begin to save provisions at once." "five hundred more consumers in the city, to lessen our children's morsels; that would be fine business!" cried frau de haes, throwing herself back in her chair so violently, that it creaked, and beating her knees with her hands. "and they are englishmen, frau margret, englishmen," said the receivergeneral's wife. "they don't eat, they don't consume, they devour. we supply our troops; but herr von nordwyk--i mean the younger one, who has been at the queen's court as the prince's ambassador, told my wilhelm what a british glutton can gobble. they'll clear off your beef like cheese, and our beer is dish-water compared with their black malt brew." "all that might be borne," replied barbara, "if they were stout soldiers. we needn't mind a hundred head of cattle more or less, and the glutton becomes temperate, when a niggard rules the house. but i wouldn't take one of our adrian's grey rabbits for these runaways." "it would be a pity," said frau de haes. "i shall go home now, and if i find my husband, he'll learn what sensible people think of the englishmen." "gently, my friend, gently," said burgomaster van swieten's wife, who had hitherto been playing quietly with the cat. "believe me, it will be just the same on the whole, whether we admit the auxiliaries or not, for before the gooseberries in our gardens are ripe, all resistance will be over." maria, who was passing cakes and hippocras, set her waiter on the table and asked: "do you wish that, frau magtelt?" "i do," replied the latter positively, "and many sensible people wish it too. no resistance is possible against such superior force, and the sooner we appeal to the king's mercy, the more surely it will be granted." the other women listened to the bold speaker in silence, but maria approached and answered indignantly: "whoever says that, can go to the spaniards at once; whoever says that, desires the disgrace of the city and country; whoever says that--" frau magtelt interrupted maria with a forced laugh, saying: "do you want to school experienced women, madam early-wise? is it customary to attack a visitor?" "customary or not," replied the other, "i will never permit such words in our house, and if they crossed the lips of my own sister i would say to her go, you are my friend no longer!" maria's voice trembled, and she pointed with outstretched arm towards the door. frau magtelt struggled for composure, but as she left the room found nothing to say, except: "don't be troubled, don't be troubled--you won't see me again." barbara followed the offended woman, and while those who remained fixed their eyes in embarrassment upon their laps, wilhelm's mother exclaimed: "well said, little woman, well said!" herr van hout's kind wife threw her arm around maria, kissed her forehead, and whispered: "turn away from the other women and dry your eyes." chapter xxi. a story is told of a condemned man, whom his cruel executioner cast into a prison of ingenious structure. each day the walls of this cage grew narrower and narrower, each day they pressed nearer and nearer to the unfortunate prisoner, until in despair he died and the dungeon became his coffin. even so, league by league, the iron barriers of the spanish regiments drew nearer and nearer leyden, and, if they succeeded in destroying the resistance of their victim, the latter was threatened with a still more cruel and pitiless end than that of the unhappy prisoner. the girdle valdez, king philip's commander, and his skilful lieutenant, don ayala, had drawn around the city in less than two days, was already nearly closed, the fort of valkenburg, strengthened with the utmost care, belonged to the enemy, and the danger had advanced more rapidly and with far more irresistible strength, than even the most timid citizens had feared. if leyden fell, its houses would be delivered to fire and pillage, its men to death, its women to disgrace--this was guaranteed by the fate of other conquered cities and the spanish nature. who could imagine the guardian angel of the busy city, except under a sullen sky, with clouded brow and anxious eyes, and yet it looked as gay and bright at the white gate as if a spring festival was drawing to a close with a brilliant exhibition. wherever the walls, as far as catherine's tower, afforded a foothold, they were crowded with men, women, and children. the old masonry looked like the spectators' seats in an arena, and the buzzing of the many-headed, curious crowd was heard for a long distance in the city. it is a kind dispensation of providence, that enables men to enjoy a brief glimpse of sunshine amid terrible storms, and thus the journeymen and apprentices, women and children, forgot the impending danger and feasted their eyes on the beautifully-dressed english soldiers, who were looking up at them, nodding and laughing saucily to the young girls, though part of them, it is true, were awaiting with thoughtful faces the results of the negotiations going on within the walls. the doors of the white gate now opened; commissioner van bronkhorst, van der werff, van hout and other leaders of the community accompanied the british colonel and his trumpeter to the bridge. the former seemed to be filled with passionate indignation and several times struck his hand on the hilt of his sword, the leyden magistrates were talking to him, and at last took leave with low bows, which he answered only with a haughty wave of the hand. the citizens returned, the portals of the gate closed, the old lock creaked, the iron-shod beams fell back into their places, the chains of the drawbridge rattled audibly, and the assembled throng now knew that the englishmen had been refused admittance to the city. loud cheers, mingled with many an expression of displeasure, were heard. "long live orange!" shouted the boys, among whom were adrian and the son of the dead fencing-master allertssohn; the women waved their handkerchiefs, and all eyes were fixed on the britons. a loud flourish of trumpets was heard, the english mounted officers dashed towards the colonel and held a short council of war with him, interrupted by hasty words from several individuals, and soon after a signal was sounded. the soldiers hurriedly, formed in marching array, many of them shaking their fists at the city. halberds and muskets, which had been stacked, were seized by their owners and, amid the beating of drums and blare of trumpets, order arose out of the confusion. individuals fell into ranks, ranks into companies, gay flags were unfurled and flung to the evening breeze, and with loud hurrahs the troops marched along the rhine towards the south-west, where the spanish outposts were stationed. the leyden boys joined loudly in the englishmen's cheer. even andreas, the fencing-master's son, had begun to shout with them; but when he saw a tall captain marching proudly before his company, his voice failed and, covering his eyes with his hands, he ran home to his mother. the other lads did not notice him, for the setting sun flashed so brightly on the coats of mail and helmets of the soldiers, the trumpets sounded so merrily, the officers' steeds caracoled so proudly under their riders, the gay plumes and banners and the smoke of the glimmering matches gained such beautiful hues in the roseate light of sunset, that eyes and ears seemed spellbound by the spectacle. but a fresh incident now attracted the attention of great and small. thirty-six englishmen, among them several officers, lingered behind the others and approached the gate. again the lock creaked and the chains rattled. the little band was admitted to the city and welcomed at the first houses of the northern end by herr van bronkhorst and the burgomaster. every one on the walls had expected, that a skirmish between the retreating englishmen and castilians would now take place before their eyes. but they were greatly mistaken. before the first ranks reached the enemy, the matches for lighting the cannon flew through the air, the banners were lowered, and when darkness came and the curious spectators dispersed, they knew that the englishmen had deserted the good cause and gone over to the spaniards. the thirty-six men, who had been admitted through the gates, were the only ones who refused to be accessory to this treason. the task of providing quarters for captain cromwell and the other englishmen and netherlanders, who had remained faithful, was assigned to van hout. burgomaster van der werff went home with commissioner van bronkhorst. many a low-voiced but violent word had been exchanged between them. the commissioner protested that the prince would be highly incensed at the refusal to admit the englishmen, for with good reason he set great value on queen elizabeth's favorable disposition to the cause of freedom, to which the burgomaster and his friends had rendered bad service that day. van der werff denied this, for everything depended upon holding leyden. after the fall of this city, delft, rotterdam and gouda would also be lost, and all farther efforts to battle for the liberty of holland useless. five hundred consumers would prematurely exhaust the already insufficient stock of provisions. everything had been done to soften their refusal to admit the englishmen, nay they had had free choice to encamp beneath the protection of the walls under the cannon of the city. when the two men parted, neither had convinced the other, but each felt sure of his comrade's loyalty. as peter took leave, he said: "van hout shall explain the reasons for our conduct to the prince, in a letter as clear and convincing as only he can make it, and his excellency will finally approve of it. rely upon that." "we will wait," replied the commissioner, "but don't forget that we shall soon be shut within these walls behind bolts and bars, like prisoners, and perhaps day after to-morrow no messenger will be able to get to him." "van hout is swift with his pen." "and let a proclamation be read aloud, early tomorrow morning, advising the women, old men and children, in short, all who will diminish the stock of provisions and add no strength to the defence, to leave the city. they can reach delft without danger, for the roads leading to it are still open." "very well," replied peter. "it's said that many girls and women have gone to-day in advance of the others." "that's right," cried the commissioner. "we are driving in a fragile vessel on the high seas. if i had a daughter in the house, i know what i should do. farewell till we meet again, meister. how are matters at alfen? the firing is no longer heard." "darkness has probably interrupted the battle." "we'll hope for the best news to-morrow, and even if all the men outside succumb, we within the walls will not flinch or yield." "we will hold out firmly to the end," replied peter resolutely. "to the end, and, if god so wills it, a successful end." "amen," cried peter, pressed the commissioner's hand and pursued his way home. barbara met him on the steps and wanted to call maria, who was with henrica; but he forbade it and paced thoughtfully to and fro, his lips often quivering as if he were suffering great pain. when, after some time, he heard his wife's voice in the dining-room, he controlled himself by a violent effort, went to the door, and slowly opened it. "you are at home already, and i sitting quietly here spinning!" she exclaimed in surprise. "yes, child. please come in here, i have something to say to you." "for heaven's sake! peter, tell me what has happened. how your voice sounds, and how pale you look!" "i'm not ill, but matters are serious, terribly serious, maria." "then it is true that the enemy--" they gained great advantage to-day and yesterday, but i beg you, if you love me, don't interrupt me now; what i have to say is no easy thing, it is hard to force the lips to utter it. where shall i begin? how shall i speak, that you may not misunderstand me? you know, child, i took you into my house from a warm nest. what we could offer was very little, and you had doubtless expected to find more. i know you have not been happy." "but it would be so easy for you to make me so." "you are mistaken, maria. in these troublous times but one thing claims my thoughts, and whatever diverts them from it is evil. but just now one thing paralyzes my courage and will-anxiety about your fate; for who knows what is impending over us, and therefore it must be said, i must take my heart to the shambles and express a wish.--a wish? oh, merciful heaven, is there no other word for what i mean!" "speak, peter, speak, and do not torture me!" cried maria, gazing anxiously into her husband's face. it could be no small matter, that induced the clear-headed, resolute man to utter such confused language. the burgomaster summoned up his courage and began again: "you are right, it is useless to keep back what must be said. we have determined at the town-hall to-day, to request the women and girls to leave the city. the road to delft is still open; day after to-morrow it may no longer be so, afterwards--who can predict what will happen afterwards? if no relief comes and the provisions are consumed, we shall be forced to open the gates to the enemy, and then, maria, imagine what will happen! the rhine and the canals will grow crimson, for much blood will flow into them and they will mirror an unequalled conflagration. woe betide the men, tenfold woe betide the women, against whom the conqueror's fury will then be directed. and you, you--the wife of the man who has induced thousands to desert king philip, the wife of the exile, who directs the resistance within these walls." at the last words maria had opened her large eyes wider and wider, and now interrupted her husband with the question: "do you wish to try how high my courage will rise?" "no, maria. i know you will hold out loyally and would look death in the face as fearlessly as your sister did in haarlem; but i, i cannot endure the thought of seeing you fall into the hands of our butchers. fear for you, terrible fear, will destroy my vigorous strength in the decisive hours, so the words must be uttered--" maria had hitherto listened to her husband quietly; she knew what he desired. now she advanced nearer and interrupted him by exclaiming firmly, nay imperiously: "no more, no more, do you hear! i will not endure another word!" "maria!" "silence it is my turn now. to escape fear, you will thrust your wife from the house; fear, you say, would undermine your strength. but will longing strengthen it? if you love me, it will not fail to come--" "if i love you, maria!" "well, well! but you have forgotten to consider how i shall feel in exile, if i also love you. i am your wife. we vowed at the altar, that nothing save death should part us. have you forgotten it? have your children become mine? have i taught them, rejoiced to call myself their mother? yes, or no?" "yes, maria, yes, yes, a hundred times yes!" "and you have the heart to throw me into the arms of this wasting longing! you wish to prevent me from keeping the most sacred of vows? you can bring yourself to tear me from the children? you think me too shallow and feeble, to endure suffering and death for the sacred cause, which is mine as well as yours! you are fond of calling me your child, but i can be strong, and whatever may come, will not weep. you are the husband and have the right to command, i am only the wife and shall obey. shall i go? shall i stay? i await your answer." she had uttered the last words in a trembling voice, but the burgomaster exclaimed with deep emotion: "stay, stay, maria! come, come, and forgive me!" peter seized her hand, exclaiming again: "come, come!" but the young wife released herself, retreated a step and said beseechingly: "let me go, peter, i cannot; i need time to overcome this." he let his arms fall and gazed mournfully into her face, but she turned away and silently left the room. peter van der werff did not follow her, but went quietly into his study and strove to reflect upon many things, that concerned his office, but his thoughts constantly reverted to maria. his love oppressed him as if it were a crime, and he seemed to himself like a courier, who gathers flowers by the way-side and in this idling squanders time and forgets the object of his mission. his heart felt unspeakably heavy and sad, and it seemed almost like a deliverance when, just before midnight, the bell in the tower of pancratius raised its evilboding voice. in danger, he knew, he would feel and think of nothing except what duty required of him, so with renewed strength he took his hat from the hook and left the house with a steady step. in the street he met junker van duivenvoorde, who summoned him to the hohenort gate, before which a body of englishmen had again appeared; a few brave soldiers who, in a fierce, bloody combat, had held alfen and the gouda sluice against the spaniards until their powder was exhausted and necessity compelled them to yield or seek safety in flight. the burgomaster followed the officer and ordered the gates to be opened to the brave soldiers. they were twenty in number, among them the netherland captain van der iaen, and a young german officer. peter commanded, that they should have shelter for the night in the town-hall and the guard-house at the gate. the next morning suitable quarters would be found for them in the houses of the citizens. janus dousa invited the captain to lodge with him, the german went to aquanus's tavern. all were ordered to report to the burgomaster at noon the next day, to be assigned to quarters and enrolled among the volunteer troops. the ringing of the alarm-bell in the tower also disturbed the night's rest of the ladies in the van der werff household. barbara sought maria, and neither returned to their rooms until they had learned the cause of the ringing and soothed henrica. maria could not sleep. her husband's purpose of separating from her during the impending danger, had stirred her whole soul, wounded her to the inmost depths of her heart. she felt humiliated, and, if not misunderstood, at least unappreciated by the man for whose sake she rejoiced, whenever she perceived a lofty aspiration or noble emotion in her own soul. what avail is personal loveliness to the beautiful wife of a blind man; of what avail to maria was the rich treasure buried in her bosom, if her husband would not see and bring it to the surface! "show him, tell him how lofty are your feelings," urged love; but womanly pride exclaimed: "do not force upon him what he disdains to seek." so the hours passed, bringing her neither sleep, peace, nor the desire to forget the humiliation inflicted upon her. at last peter entered the room, stepping lightly and cautiously, in order not to wake her. she pretended to be asleep, but with half-closed eyes could see him distinctly. the lamp-light fell upon his face, and the lines she had formerly perceived looked like deep shadows between his eyes and mouth. they impressed upon his features the stamp of heavy, sorrowful anxiety, and reminded maria of the "too hard" and "if i can only bear it," he had murmured in his sleep the night before. then he approached her bed and stood there a long time; she no longer saw him, for she kept her eyes tightly closed, but the first loving glance, with which he gazed down upon her, had not escaped her notice. it continued to beam before her mental vision, and she thought she felt that he was watching and praying for her as if she were a child. sleep had long since overpowered her husband, while maria lay gazing at the glimmering dawn, as wakeful as if it were broad day. for the sake of his love she would forgive much, but she could not forget the humiliation she had experienced. "a toy," she said to herself, "a work of art which we enjoy, is placed in security when danger threatens the house; the axe and the bread, the sword and the talisman that protects us, in short whatever we cannot dispense with while we live, we do not release from our hands till death comes. she was not necessary, indispensable to him. if she had obeyed his wish and left him, then--yes, then--" here the current of her thoughts was checked, for the first time she asked herself the question: "would he have really missed your helping hand, your cheering word?" she turned restlessly, and her heart throbbed anxiously, as she told herself that she had done little to smooth his rugged pathway. the vague feeling, that he had not been entirely to blame, if she had not found perfect happiness by his side, alarmed her. did not her former conduct justify him in expecting hindrance rather than support and help in impending days of severest peril? filled with deep longing to obtain a clear view of her own heart, she raised herself on her pillows and reviewed her whole former life. her mother had been a catholic in her youth, and had often told her how free and light-hearted she had felt, when she confided everything that can trouble a woman's heart to a silent third person, and received from the lips of god's servant the assurance that she might now begin a new life, secure of forgiveness. "it is harder for us now," her mother said before her first communion, "for we of the reformed religion are referred to ourselves and our god, and must be wholly at peace with ourselves before we approach the lord's table. true, that is enough, for if we frankly and honestly confess to the judge within our own breasts all that troubles our consciences, whether in thought or deed, and sincerely repent, we shall be sure of forgiveness for the sake of the saviour's wounds." maria now prepared for this silent confession, and sternly and pitilessly examined her conduct. yes, she had fixed her gaze far too steadily upon herself, asked such and given little. the fault was recognized, and now the amendment should begin. after this self-inspection, her heart grew lighter, and when she at last turned away from the morning-light to seek sleep, she looked forward with pleasure to the affectionate greeting she meant to offer peter in the morning; but she soon fell asleep and when she woke, her husband had long since left the house. as usual, she set peter's study in order before proceeding to any other task, and while doing so, cast a friendly glance at the dead eva's picture. on the writing-table lay the bible, the only book not connected with his business affairs, that her husband ever read. barbara sometimes drew comfort and support from the volume, but also used it as an oracle, for when undecided low to act she opened it and pointed with her finger to certain passage. this usually had a definite meaning and she generally, though not always, acted as it directed. to-day she had been disobedient, for in response to her question whether she might venture to send a bag of all sorts of dainties to her son, a beggar of the sea, in spite of the spaniards encircling the city, he had received the words of jeremiah: "their tents and their flocks shall they take away: they shall take to themselves their curtains and all their vessels and their camels," and yet the bag had been entrusted early that morning to a widow, who intended to make her escape to delft with her young daughter, according to the request of the magistrates. the gift might perhaps reach rotterdam; a mother always hopes for a miracle in behalf of her child. before maria restored the bible to its old place, she opened it at the thirteenth chapter of the first epistle of paul to the corinthians, which speaks of love, and was specially dear to her. there were the words: "charity suffereth long and is kind, charity is not easily provoked;" and "charity beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things." to be kind and patient, to hope and endure all things, was the duty love imposed upon her. when she had closed the bible and was preparing to go to henrica, barbara ushered janus dousa into the room. the young nobleman to-day wore armor and gorget, and looked far more like a soldier than a scientist or poet. he had sought peter in vain at the town-hall, and hoped to find him at home. one of the messengers sent to the prince had returned from dortrecht with a letter, which conferred on dousa the office made vacant by allertssohn's death. he was to command not only the city-guard, but all the armed force. he had accepted the appointment with cheerful alacrity, and requested maria to inform her husband. "accept my congratulations," said the burgomaster's wife. "but what will now become of your motto: 'ante omnia musae?'" "i shall change the words a little and say: 'omnia ante musas." "do you understand that jargon, child?" asked barbara. "a passport will be given the muses," replied maria gaily. janus was pleased with the ready repartee and exclaimed: "how bright and happy you look! faces free from care are rare birds in these days." maria blushed, for she did not know how to interpret the words of the nobleman, who understood how to reprove with subtle mockery, and answered naively: "don't think me frivolous, junker. i know the seriousness of the times, but i have just finished a silent confession and discovered many bad traits in my character, but also the desire to replace them with more praiseworthy ones." "there, there," replied janus. "i knew long ago that you had formed a friendship in the delft school with my old sage. 'know thyself,' was the greek's principal lesson, and you wisely obey it. every silent confession, every desire for inward purification, must begin with the purpose of knowing ourselves and, if in so doing we unexpectedly encounter things which tend to make our beloved selves uncomely, and have the courage to find them just as hideous in ourselves as in others--" "abhorrence will come, and we shall have taken the first step towards improvement." "no, dear lady, we shall then stand on one of the higher steps. after hours of long, deep thought, socrates perceived--do you know what?" "that he knew nothing at all. i shall arrive at this perception more speedily." "and the christian learns it at school," said barbara, to join in the conversation. "all knowledge is botchwork." "and we are all sinners," added janus. "that's easily said, dear madam, and easily understood, when others are concerned. 'he is a sinner' is quickly uttered, but 'i am a sinner' escapes the lips with more difficulty, and whoever does exclaim it with sorrow, in the stillness of his own quiet room, mingles the white feathers of angels' wings with the black pinions of the devil. pardon me! in these times everything thought and said is transformed into solemn earnest. mars is here, and the cheerful muses are silent. remember me to your husband, and tell him, that captain allertssohn's body has been brought in and to-morrow is appointed for the funeral." the nobleman took his leave, and maria, after visiting her patient and finding her well and bright, sent adrian and bessie into the garden outside the city-wall to gather flowers and foliage, which she intended to help them weave into wreaths for the coffin of the brave soldier. she herself went to the captain's widow. chapter xxii. the burgomaster's wife returned home just before dinner, and found a motley throng of bearded warriors assembled in front of the house, they were trying to make themselves intelligible in the english language to some of the constables, and when the latter respectfully saluted maria, raised their hands to their morions also. she pleasantly returned the greeting and passed into the entry, where the full light of noon streamed in through the open door. peter had assigned quarters to the english soldiers outside, and after a consultation with the new commandant, jan van der does, gave them officers. they were probably waiting for their comrades, for when the young wife had ascended the first steps of the staircase and looked upward, she found the top of the narrow flight barred by the tall figure of a soldier. the latter had his back towards her and was showing bessie his dark velvet cap, surrounded by rectangular teeth, above which floated a beautiful light-blue ostrich-plume. the child seemed to have formed a close friendship with the soldier, for, although the latter was refusing her something, the little girl laughed gaily. maria paused irresolutely a moment; but when the child snatched the gay cap and put it on her own curls, she thought she must check her and exclaimed warningly: "why, bessie, that is no plaything for children." the soldier turned, stood still a moment in astonishment, raised his hand to his forehead, and then, with a few hurried bounds, sprang down the stairs and rushed up to the burgomaster's wife. maria had started back in surprise; but he gave her no time to think, for stretching out both hands he exclaimed in an eager, joyous tone, with sparkling eyes: "maria! jungfrau maria! you here! this is what i call a lucky day!" the young wife had instantly recognized the soldier and willingly laid her right hand in his, though not without a shade of embarrassment. the officer's clear, blue eyes sought hers, but she fixed her gaze on the floor, saying: "i am no longer what i was, the young girl has become a housewife." "a housewife!" he exclaimed. "how dignified that sounds! and yet! yet! you are still jungfrau maria! you haven't changed a hair. that's just the way you bent your head at the wedding in delft, the way you raised your hands, lowered your eyes--you blushed too, just as prettily." there was a rare melody in the voice which uttered these words with joyous, almost childlike freedom, which pleased maria no less than the officer's familiar manner annoyed her. with a hasty movement she raised her head, looked steadily into the young man's handsome face and said with dignity: "you see only the exterior, junker von dornburg; three years have made many changes within." "junker von dornburg," he repeated, shaking his waving locks. "i was junker georg in delft. very different things have happened to us, dear lady, very different things. you see i have grown a tolerable, though not huge moustache, am stouter, and the sun has bronzed my pink and white boyish face--in short: my outer man has changed for the worse, but within i am just the same as i was three years ago." maria felt the blood again mounting into her cheeks, but she did not wish to blush and answered hastily: "standing still is retrograding, so you have lost three beautiful years, herr von dornburg." the officer looked at maria in perplexity, and then said more gravely than before: "your jest is more opportune, than you probably suppose; i had hoped to find you again in delft, but powder was short in alfen, so the spaniard will probably reach your native city sooner than we. now a kind fate brings me to you here; but let me be honest--what i hope and desire stands clearly before my eyes, echoes in my soul, and when i thought of our meeting, i dreamed you would lay both hands in mine and, instead of greeting me with witty words, ask the old companion of happy hours, your brother leonhard's best friend: 'do you still remember our dead?' and when i had told you: 'yes, yes, yes, i have never forgotten him,' then i thought the mild lustre of your eyes--oh, oh, how i thank you! the dear orbs are floating in a mist of tears. you are not so wholly changed as you supposed, frau maria, and if i loyally remember the past, will you blame me for it?" "certainly not," she answered cordially. "and now that you speak to me so, i will with pleasure again call you junker georg, and as leonhard's friend and mine, invite you to our house." "that will be delightful," he cried cordially. "i have so much to ask you and, as for myself--alas, i wish i had less to tell." "have you seen my husband?" asked maria. "i know nobody in leyden," he replied, "except my learned, hospitable host, and the doge of this miniature venice, so rich in water and bridges." georg pointed up the stair-case. maria blushed again as she said: "burgomaster van der werff is my husband." the nobleman was silent for a short time, then he said quickly: "he received me kindly. and the pretty elf up yonder?" "his child by his first marriage, but now mine also. how do you happen to call her the elf?" "because she looks as if she had been born among white flowers in the moonlight, and because the afterglow of the sunrise, from which the elves flee, crimsoned her cheeks when i caught her." "she has already received the name once," said maria. "may i take you to my husband?" "not now, frau van der werff, for i must attend to my men outside, but to-morrow, if you will allow me." maria found the dishes smoking on the dining-table. her family had waited for her, and, heated by the rapid walk at noon, excited by her unexpected meeting with the young german, she opened the door of the study and called to her husband: "excuse me! i was detained. it is very late." "we were very willing to wait," he answered kindly, approaching her. then all she had resolved to do returned to her memory and, for the first time since her marriage, she raised her husband's hand to her lips. he smilingly withdrew it, kissed her on the forehead, and said: "it is delightful to have you here." "isn't it?" she asked, gently shaking her finger at him. "but we are all here now, and dinner is waiting." "come then," she answered gaily. "do you know whom i met on the stairs?" "english soldiers." "of course, but among them junker von dornburg." "he called on me. a handsome fellow, whose gayety is very attractive, a german from the evangelical countries." "leonhard's best friend. don't you know? surely i've told you about him. our guest at jacoba's wedding." "oh! yes. junker georg. he tamed the chestnut horse for the prince's equerry." "that was a daring act," said maria, drawing a long breath. "the chestnut is still an excellent horse," replied peter. "leonhard thought the junker, with his gifts and talents, would lift the world out of its grooves; i remember it well, and now the poor fellow must remain quietly here and be fed by us. how did he happen to join the englishmen and take part in the war?" "i don't know; he only told me that he had had many experiences." "i can easily believe it. he is living at the tavern; but perhaps we can find a room for him in the side wing, looking out upon the court-yard." "no, peter," cried the young wife eagerly. "there is no room in order there." "that can be arranged later. at any rate we'll invite him to dinner tomorrow, he may have something to tell us. there is good marrow in the young man. he begged me not to let him remain idle, but make him of use in the service. jan van der does has already put him in the right place, the new commandant looks into people's hearts." barbara mingled in the conversation, peter, though it was a week-day, ordered a jug of wine to be brought instead of the beer, and an event that had not occurred for weeks happened: the master of the house sat at least fifteen minutes with his family after the food had been removed, and told them of the rapid advance of the spaniards, the sad fate of the fugitive englishmen, who had been disarmed and led away in sections, the brave defence the britons, to whose corps georg belonged, had made at alfen, and of another hot combat in which don gaytan, the right-hand and best officer of valdez, was said to have fallen. messengers still went and came on the roads leading to delft, but to-morrow these also would probably be blocked by the enemy. he always addressed everything he said to maria, unless barbara expressly questioned him, and when he at last rose from the table, ordered a good roast to be prepared the next day for the guest he intended to invite. scarcely had the door of his room closed behind him, when little bessie ran up to maria, threw her arms around her and asked: "mother, isn't junker georg the tall captain with the blue feather, who ran down-stairs so fast to meet you?" "yes, child." "and he's coming to dinner to-morrow! he's coming, adrian." the child clapped her hands in delight and then ran to barbara to exclaim once more: "aunt barbel, did you hear? he's coming!" "with the blue feather," replied the widow. "and he has curls, curls as long as assendelft's little clara. may i go with you to see cousin henrica?" "afterwards, perhaps," replied maria. "go now, children, get the flowers and separate them carefully from the leaves. trautchen will bring some hoops and strings, and then we'll bind the wreaths." junker georg's remark, that this was a lucky day, seemed to be verified; for the young wife found henrica bright and free from pain. with the doctor's permission, she had walked up and down her room several times, sat a longer time at the open window, relished her chicken, and when maria entered, was seated in the softly-cushioned arm-chair, rejoicing in the consciousness of increasing strength. maria was delighted at her improved appearance, and told her how well she looked that day. "i can return the compliment," replied henrica. "you look very happy. what has happened to you?" "to me? oh! my husband was more cheerful than usual, and there was a great deal to tell at dinner. i've only come to enquire for your health. i will see you later. now i must go with the children to a sorrowful task." "with the children? what have the little elf and signor salvatore to do with sorrow?" "captain allertssohn will be buried to-morrow, and we are going to make some wreaths for the coffin." "make wreaths!" cried henrica, "i can teach you that! there, trautchen, take the plate and call the little ones." the servant went away, but maria said anxiously: "you will exert yourself too much again, henrica." "i? i shall be singing again to-morrow. my preserver's potion does wonders, i assure you. have you flowers and oak-leaves enough?" "i should think so." at the last words the door opened and bessie cautiously entered the room, walking on tiptoe as she had been told, went up to henrica, received a kiss from her, and then asked eagerly: "cousin henrica, do you know? junker georg, with the blue feather, is coming again to-morrow and will dine with us." "junker georg?" asked the young lady. maria interrupted the child's reply, and answered in an embarrassed tone: "herr von domburg, an officer who came to the city with the englishmen, of whom i spoke to you--a german--an old acquaintance. go and arrange the flowers with adrian, bessie, then i'll come and help you." "here, with cousin henrica," pleaded the child. "yes, little elf, here; and we'll both make the loveliest wreath you ever saw." the child ran out, and this time, in her delight, forgot to shut the door gently. the young wife gazed out of the window. henrica watched her silently for a time and then exclaimed: "one word, frau maria. what is going on in the court-yard? nothing? and what has become of the happy light in your eyes? your house isn't swarming with guests; why did you wait for bessie to tell me about junker georg, the german, the old acquaintance?" "let that subject drop, henrica." "no, no! do you know what i think? the storm of war has blown to your house the young madcap, with whom you spent such happy hours at your sister's wedding. am i right or wrong? you needn't blush so deeply." "it is he," replied maria gravely. "but if you love me, forget what i told you about him, or deny yourself the idle amusement of alluding to it, for if you should still do so, it would offend me." "why should i! you are the wife of another." "of another whom i honor and love, who trusts me and himself invited the junker to his house. i have liked the young man, admired his talents, been anxious when he trifled with his life as if it were a paltry leaf, which is flung into the river." "and now that you have seen him again, maria?" "now i know, what my duty is. do you see, that my peace here is not disturbed by idle gossip." "certainly not, maria; yet i am still curious about this chevalier georg and his singing. unfortunately we shan't be long together. i want to go home." "the doctor will not allow you to travel yet." "no matter. i shall go as soon as i feel well enough. my father is refused admittance, but your husband can do much, and i must speak with him." "will you receive him to-morrow?" "the sooner the better, for he is your husband and, i repeat, the ground is burning under my feet." "oh!" exclaimed maria. "that sounds very sad," cried henrica. "do you want to hear, that i shall find it hard to leave you? i shouldn't go yet; but my sister anna, she is now a widow--thank god, i should like to say, but she is suffering want and utterly deserted. i must speak to my father about her, and go forth from the quiet haven into the storm once more." "my husband will come to you," said maria. "that's right, that's right! come in, children! put the flowers on the table yonder. you, little elf, sit down on the stool and you, salvatore, shall give me the flowers. what does this mean? i really believe the scamp has been putting perfumed oil on his curly head. in honor of me, salvatore? thank you!--we shall need the hoops later. first we'll make bouquets, and then bind them with the leaves to the wood. sing me a song while we are working, maria. the first one! i can bear it to-day." chapter xxiii. half leyden had followed the brave captain's coffin, and among the other soldiers, who rendered the last honors to the departed, was georg von dornburg. after the funeral, the musician wilhelm led the son of the kind comrade, whom so many mourned, to his house. van der werff found many things to be done after the burial, but reserved the noon hour; for he expected the german to dine. the burgomaster, as usual, sat at the head of the table; the junker had taken his place between him and maria, opposite to barbara and the children. the widow never wearied of gazing at the young man's fresh, bright face, for although her son could not compare with him in beauty, there was an honest expression in the junker's eyes, which reminded her of her wilhelm. many a question and answer had already been exchanged between those assembled round the board, many a pleasant memory recalled, when peter, after the dishes had been removed and a new jug with better wine placed on the table, filled the young nobleman's glass again, and raised his own. "let us drink this bumper," he cried, gazing at georg with sincere pleasure in his eyes, "let us drink to the victory of the good cause, for which you too voluntarily draw your sword. thanks for the vigorous pledge. drinking is also an art, and the germans are masters of it." "we learn it in various places, and not worst at the university of jena." "all honor to the doctors and professors, who bring their pupils up to the standard of my dead brother-in-law, and judging from this sample drink, you also." "leonhard was my teacher in the 'ars bibendi.' how long ago it is!" "youth is not usually content," replied peter, "but when the point in question concerns years, readily calls 'much,' what seems to older people 'little.' true, many experiences may have been crowded into the last few years of your life. i can still spare an hour, and as we are all sitting so cosily together here, you can tell us, unless you wish to keep silence on the subject, how you chanced to leave your distant home for holland, and your german and latin books to enlist under the english standard." "yes," added maria, without any trace of embarrassment. "you still owe me the story. give thanks, children, and then go." adrian gazed beseechingly first at his mother and then at his father, and as neither forbade him to stay, moved his chair close to his sister, and both leaned their heads together and listened with wide open eyes, while the junker first quietly, then with increasing vivacity, related the following story: "you know that i am a native of thuringia, a mountainous country in the heart of germany. our castle is situated in a pleasant valley, through which a clear river flows in countless windings. wooded mountains, not so high as the giants in switzerland, yet by no means contemptible, border the narrow boundaries of the valley. at their feet the fields and meadows, at a greater height rise pine forests, which, like the huntsman, wear green robes at all seasons of the year. in winter, it is true, the snow cover them with a glimmering white sheet. when spring comes, the pines put forth new shoots, as fresh and full of sap as the budding foliage of your oaks and beeches, and in the meadows by the river it begins to snow in the warm breezes, for then one fruit-tree blooms beside another, and when the wind rises, the delicate white petals flutter through the air and fall among the bright blossoms in the grass, and on the clear surface of the river. there are also numerous barren cliffs on the higher portions of the mountains, and where they towered in the most rugged, inaccessible ridges, our ancestors built their fastnesses, to secure themselves from the attacks of their enemies. our castle stands on a mountain-ridge in the midst of the valley of the saale. there i was born, there i sported through the years of my boyhood, learned to read and guide the pen. there was plenty of hunting in the forests, we had spirited horses in the stable, and, wild lad that i was, i rarely went voluntarily into the school-room, the grey-haired teacher, lorenz, had to catch me, if he wanted to get possession of me. my sisters and hans, our youngest child, the boy was only three years younger than i, kept quiet-i had an older brother too, yet did not have him. when his beard was first beginning to grow, he was given by our gracious duke to chevalier von brand as his esquire, and sent to spain, to buy andalusian horses. john frederick's father had learned their value in madrid after the battle of muhlburg. louis was a merry fellow when he went away, and knew how to tame the wildest stallion. it was hard for our parents to believe him dead, but years elapsed, and as neither he nor chevalier von brand appeared, we were obliged to give him up for lost. my mother alone could not do this, and constantly expected his return. my father called me the future heir and lord of the castle. when i had passed beyond boyhood and understood cicero tolerably well, i was sent to the university of jena to study law, as my uncle, the chancellor, wished me to become a counsellor of state. "oh jena, beloved jena! there are blissful days in may and june, when only light clouds float in the sky, and all the leaves and flowers are so fresh and green, that one would think--they probably think so themselves --that they could never fade and wither; such days in human existence are the period of joyous german student life. you can believe it. leonhard has told you enough of jena. he understood how to unite work and pleasure; i, on the contrary, learned little on the wooden benches, for i rarely occupied them, and the dust of books certainly didn't spoil my lungs. but i read ariosto again and again, devoted myself to singing, and when a storm of feeling seethed within my breast, composed many songs for my own pleasure. we learned to wield the sword too in jena, and i would gladly have crossed blades with the sturdy fencing-master allertssohn, of whom you have just told me. leonhard was older than i, and when he graduated with honor, i was still very weak in the pandects. but we were always one in heart and soul, so i went to holland with him to attend his wedding. ah, those were days! the theologians in jena have actively disputed about the part of the earth, in which the little garden of paradise should be sought. i considered them all fools, and thought: 'there is only one eden, and that lies in holland, and the fairest roses the dew waked on the first sunny morning, bloom in delft!'" at these words georg shook back his waving locks and hesitated in great embarrassment, but as no one interrupted him and he saw barbara's eager face and the children's glowing cheeks, quietly continued: "so i came home, and was to learn for the first time, that in life also beautiful sunny days often end with storms. i found my father ill, and a few days after my return he closed his eyes in death. i had never seen any human being die, and the first, the very first, was he, my father." georg paused, and deeply moved, passed his hand over his eyes. "your father!" cried barbara, in a tone of cordial sympathy, breaking the silence. "if we can judge the tree by the apple, he was surely a splendid man." the junker again raised his head, exclaiming with sparkling eyes: "unite every good and noble quality, and embody them in the form of a tall, handsome man, then you will have the image of my father;--and i might tell you of my mother--" "is she still alive?" asked peter. "god grant it!" exclaimed the young man. "i have heard nothing from my family for two months. that is hard. pleasures smile along every path, and i like my profession of soldier, but it often grieves me sorely to hear so little from home. oh! if one were only a bird, a sunbeam, or a shooting-star, one might, if only for the twinkling of an eye, learn how matters go at home and fill the soul with fresh gratitude, or, if it must be--but i will not think of that. in the valley of the saale, the trees are blossoming and a thousand flowers deck all the meadows, just as they do here, and did there two years ago, when i left home for the second time. "after my father's death i was the heir, but neither hunting nor riding to court, neither singing nor the clinking of beakers could please me. i went about like a sleep-walker, and it seemed as if i had no right to live without my father. then--it is now just two years ago--a messenger brought from weimar a letter which had come from italy with several others, addressed to our most gracious sovereign; it contained the news that our lost brother was still alive, lying sick and wretched in the hospital at bergamo. a kind nun had written for him, and we now learned that on the journey from valencia to livorno louis had been captured by corsairs and dragged to tunis. how much suffering he endured there, with what danger he at last succeeded in obtaining his liberty, you shall learn later. he escaped to italy on a genoese galley. his feet carried him as far as bergamo, but he could go no farther, and now lay ill, perhaps dying, among sympathizing strangers. i set out at once and did not spare horseflesh on the way to bergamo, but though there were many strange and beautiful things to be seen on my way, they afforded me little pleasure, the thought of louis, so dangerously ill, saddened my joyous spirits. every running brook urged me to hasten, and the lofty mountains seemed like jealous barriers. when once beyond st. gotthard i felt less anxious, and as i rode down from bellinzona to lake lugano, and the sparkling surface of the water beyond the city smiled at me like a blue eye, forgot my grief for a time, waved my hat, and sung a song. in bergamo i found my brother, alive, but enfeebled in mind and body, weak, and without any desire to take up the burden of life again. he had been in good hands, and after a few weeks we were able to travel homeward-this time i went through beautiful tyrol. louis's strength daily increased, but the wings of his soul had been paralyzed by suffering. alas, for long years he had dug and carried heavy loads, with chains on his feet, beneath a broiling sun. chevalier von brand could not long endure this hard fate, but louis, while in tunis, forgot both how to laugh and weep, and which of the two can be most easily spared? "even when he saw my mother again, he could not shed a tear, yet his whole body--and surely his heart also--trembled with emotion. now he lives quietly at the castle. in the prime of manhood he is an old man, but he is beginning to accommodate himself to life, only he can't bear the sight of a strange face. i had a hard battle with him, for as the eldest son, the castle and estate, according to the law, belong to him, but he wanted to resign his rights and put me in his place. even when he had brought my mother over to his side, and my uncle and brothers and sisters tried to persuade me to yield to his wish, i remained resolute. i would not touch what did not belong to me, and our youngest boy, wolfgang, has grown up, and can fill my place wherever it is necessary. when the entreaties and persuasions became too strong for me, i saddled my horse and went away again. it was hard for my mother to let me go, but i had tasted the delight of travelling, and rode off as if to a wedding. if i must be perfectly frank, i'll confess that i resigned castle and estates like a troublesome restraint. free as the wind and clouds, i followed the same road over which i had ridden with leonhard, for in your country a war after my own heart was going on, and my future fortune was to be based upon my sword. in cologne i enlisted under the banner of louis of nassau, and fought with him at mook heath till every one retreated. my horse had fallen, my doublet was torn, there was little left save good spirits and the hope of better days. these were soon found, for captain gensfort asked me to join the english troops. i became his ensign, and at alfen held out beside him till the last grain of powder was exhausted. what happened there, you know." "and captain van der laen told us," said peter, "that he owes his life to you. you fought like a lion." "it was wild work enough at the fortifications, yet neither i nor my horse had a hair ruffled, and this time i even saved my knapsack and a full purse. fate, like mothers, loves troublesome children best, and therefore led me to you and your family, herr burgomaster." "and i beg you to consider yourself one of them," replied peter. "we have two pleasant rooms looking out upon the court-yard; they shall be put in order for you, if you would like to occupy them." "with pleasure," replied the junker, and peter, offering him his hand, said: "the duties of my office call me away, but you can tell the ladies what you need, and when you mean to move in. the sooner, the better we shall be pleased. shall we not, maria?" "you will be welcome, junker georg. now i must look after the invalid we are nursing here. barbara will ascertain your wishes." the young wife took her husband's hand and left the room with him. the widow was left alone with the young nobleman and tried to learn everything he desired. then she followed her sister-in-law, and finding her in henrica's room, clapped her hands, exclaiming: "that is a man! fraulein, i assure you that, though i'm an old woman, i never met so fine a young fellow in all my life. so much heart, and so handsome too! 'to whom fortune gives once, it gives by bushels, and unto him that hath, shall be given!' those are precious words!" chapter xxiv. peter had promised henrica, to request the council to give her permission to leave the city. it was hard for her to part from the burgomaster's household. maria's frank nature exerted a beneficial influence; it seemed as if her respect for her own sex increased in her society. the day before she had heard her sing. the young wife's voice was like her character. every note flawless and clear as a bell, and henrica grieved that she should be forbidden to mingle her own voice with her hostess's. she was very sorry to leave the children too. yet she was obliged to go, on anna's account, for her father could not be persuaded by letters to do anything. had she appealed to him in writing to forgive his rejected child, he would hardly have read the epistle to the end. something might more easily be won from him through words, by taking advantage of a favorable moment. she must have speech with him, yet she dreaded the life in his castle, especially as she was forced to acknowledge, that she too was by no means necessary to her father. to secure the inheritance, he had sent her to a terrible existence with her aunt; while she lay dangerously ill, he had gone to a tournament, and the letter received from him the day before, contained nothing but the information that he was refused admittance to the city, and a summons for her to go to junker de heuter's house at the hague. enclosed was a pass from valdez, enjoining all king philip's soldiers to provide for her safety. the burgomaster had intended to have her conveyed in a litter, accompanied by a flag of truce, as far as the spanish lines, and the doctor no longer opposed her wish to travel. she hoped to leave that day. lost in thought, she stationed herself in the baywindow and gazed out into the court-yard. several windows in the building on the eastern side stood open. trautchen must have risen early, for she came out of the rooms arranged for georg's occupation, followed by a young assistant carrying various scrubbing utensils. next jan appeared with a large armchair on his head. bessie ran after the frieselander, calling: "aunt barbel's grandfather's chair; where will she take her afternoon nap?" henrica had heard the words, and thought first of good old "babetta," who could also feel tenderly, then of maria and the man who was to lodge in the rooms opposite. were there not some loose threads still remaining of the old tie, that had united the burgomaster's wife to the handsome nobleman? a feeling of dread overpowered her. poor meister peter, poor maria! was it right to abandon the young wife, who had held out a saving hand in her distress? yet how much nearer was her own sister than this stranger! each day that she allowed herself to linger in this peaceful asylum, seemed like a theft from anna--since she had read in a letter from her to her husband, the only one the dead man's pouch contained, that she was ill and sunk in poverty with her child. help was needed here, and no one save herself could offer it. with aid from barbara and maria, she packed her clothes. at noon everything was ready for her departure, and she would not be withheld from eating in the dining-room with the family. peter was prevented from coming to dinner, henrica took his seat and, under the mask of loud, forced mirth, concealed the grief and anxieties that filled her heart. at twilight maria and the children followed her into her room, and she now had the harp brought and sang. at first her voice failed to reach many a note, but as the snow falling from the mountain peaks to the plains at first slides slowly, then rapidly increases in bulk and power, her tones gradually gained fulness and irresistible might and, when at last she rested the harp against the wall and walked to the chair exhausted, maria clasped her hand and said with deep emotion: "stay with us, henrica." "i ought not," replied the girl. "you are enough for each other. shall i take you with me, children?" adrian lowered his eyes in embarrassment, but bessie jumped into her lap, exclaiming. "where are you going? stay with us." just at that moment some one knocked at the door, and peter entered. it was evident that he brought no good tidings. his request had been refused. the council had almost unanimously voted an assent to van bronkhorst's proposition, that the young lady, as a relation of prominent friends of spain among the netherland nobility, should be kept in the city. peter's representations were unheeded; he now frankly told henrica what a conflict he had had, and entreated her to have patience and be content to remain in his house as a welcome guest. the young girl interrupted him with many a passionate exclamation of indignation, and when she grew calmer, cried: "oh, you men, you men! i would gladly stay with you, but you know from what this base deed of violence detains me. and then: to be a prisoner, to live weeks, months, without mass and without confession. yet first and last-merciful heavens, what will become of my unfortunate sister?" maria gazed beseechingly at peter, and the latter said: "if you desire the consolations of your religion, i will send father damianus to you, and you can hear mass with the grey sisters, who live beside us, as often as you desire. we are not fighting against your religion, but for the free exercise of every faith, and the whole city stands open to you. my wife will help you bear your anxiety about your sister far better than i could do, but let me say this: wherever and however i can help you, it shall be done, and not merely in words." so saying, he held out his hand to henrica. she gave him hers, exclaiming: "i have cause to thank you, i know, but please leave me now and give me time to think until tomorrow." "is there no way of changing the decision of the council?" maria asked her husband. "no, certainly not." "well, then," said the young wife earnestly, "you must remain our guest. anxiety for your sister does not cloud your pleasure alone, but saddens me too. let us first of all provide for her. how are the roads to delft?" "they are cut, and no one will be able to pass after to-morrow or the day after." "then calm yourself, henrica, and let us consider what is to be done." the questions and counter-questions began, and henrica gazed in astonishment at the delicate young wife, for with unerring resolution and keenness, she held the first voice in the consultation. the surest means of gaining information was to seek that very day a reliable messenger, by whom to send anna d'avila money, and if possible bring her to holland. the burgomaster declared himself ready to advance from his own property, a portion of the legacy bequeathed henrica's sister by fraulein van hoogstraten, and accepted his guest's thanks without constraint. "but whom could they send?" henrica thought of wilhelm; he was her sister's friend. "but he is in the military service," replied the burgomaster. "i know him. he will not desert the city in these times of trouble, not even for his mother." "but i know the right messenger," said maria. "we'll send junker georg." "that's a good suggestion," said peter. "we shall find him in his lodgings. i must go to van hout, who lives close by, and will send the german to you. but my time is limited, and with such gentlemen, fair women can accomplish more than bearded men. farewell, dear fraulein, once more--we rejoice to have you for our guest." when the burgomaster had left the room, henrica said: "how quickly, and how differently from what i expected, all this has happened. i love you. i am under obligations to you, but to be imprisoned, imprisoned. the walls will press upon me, the ceiling will seem like a weight. i don't know whether i ought to rejoice or despair. you have great influence with the junker. tell him about anna, touch his heart, and if he would go, it would really be best for us both." "you mean for you and your sister," replied maria with a repellent gesture of the hand. "there is the lamp. when the junker comes, we shall see each other again." maria went to her room and threw herself on the couch, but soon rose and paced restlessly to and fro. then stretching out her clasped hands, she exclaimed: "oh, if he would only go, if he would only go! merciful god! kind, gracious father in heaven, grant him every happiness, every blessing, but save my peace of mind; let him go, and lead him far, far away from here." chapter xxv. the tavern where georg von dornburg lodged stood on the "broad street," and was a fine building with a large court-yard, in which were numerous vehicles. on the left of the entrance was a large open room entered through a lofty archway. here the drivers and other folk sat over their beer and wine, suffering the innkeeper's hens to fly on the benches and even sometimes on the table, here vegetables were cleaned, boiled and fried, here the stout landlady was frequently obliged to call her sturdy maid and men servants to her aid, when her guests came to actual fighting, or some one drank more than was good for him. here the new custom of tobacco-smoking was practised, though only by a few sailors who had served on spanish ships--but frau van aken could not endure the acrid smoke and opened the windows, which were filled with blooming pinks, slender stalks of balsam, and cages containing bright-plumaged goldfinches. on the side opposite to the entrance were two closed rooms. above the door of one, neatly carved in wood, were the lines from horace: "ille terrarum mihi praeter omnes. angulus ridet." [of all the corners of the world, there is none that so charms me.] only a few chosen guests found admittance into this long, narrow apartment. it was completely wainscoted with wood, and from the centre of the richly-carved ceiling a strange picture gleamed in brilliant hues. this represented the landlord. the worthy man with the smooth face, firmly-closed lips, and long nose, which offered an excellent straight line to its owner's burin, sat on a throne in the costume of a roman general, while vulcan and bacchus, minerva and poinona, offered him gifts. klaus van aken, or as he preferred to be called, nicolaus aquanus, was a singular man, who had received good gifts from more than one of the olympians; for besides his business he zealously devoted himself to science and several of the arts. he was an excellent silversmith, a die-cutter and engraver of great skill, had a remarkable knowledge of coins, was an industrious student and collector of antiquities. his little tap-room was also a museum; for on the shelves, that surrounded it, stood rare objects of every description, in rich abundance and regular order; old jugs and tankards, large and small coins, gems in carefully-sealed glass-cases, antique lamps of clay and bronze, stones with ancient roman inscriptions, roman and greek terracotta, polished fragments of marble which he had found in italy among the ruins, the head of a faun, an arm, a foot and other bits of pagan works of art, a beautifully-enamelled casket of byzantine work, and another with enamelled ornamentation from limoges. even half a roman coat of mail and a bit of mosaic from a roman bath were to be seen here. amid these antiquities, stood beautiful venetian glasses, pine-cones and ostrich-eggs. such another tap-room could scarcely be found in holland, and even the liquor, which a neatly-dressed maid poured for the guests from oddly-shaped tankards into exquisitely-wrought goblets, was exceptionally fine. in this room herr aquanus himself was in the habit of appearing among his guests; in the other, opposite to the entrance, his wife held sway. on this day, the "angulus," as the beautiful taproom was called, was but thinly occupied, for the sun had just set, though the lamps were already lighted. these rested in three-branched iron chandeliers, every portion of which, from the slender central shaft to the intricately-carved and twisted ornaments, had been carefully wrought by aquanus with his own hand. several elderly gentlemen were at one table enjoying their wine, while at another were captain van der laen, a brave hollander, who was receiving english pay and had come to the city with the other defenders of alfen, the musician wilhelm, junker georg, and the landlord. "it's a pleasure to meet people like you, junker," said aquanus. "you've travelled with your eyes open, and what you tell me about brescia excites my curiosity. i should have liked to see the inscription." "i'll get it for you," replied the young man; "for if the spaniards don't send me into another world, i shall certainly cross the alps again. did you find any of these roman antiquities in your own country?" "yes. at the roomburg canal, perhaps the site of the old praetorium, and at katwyk. the forum hadriani was probably located near voorburg. the coat of mail, i showed you, came from there." "an old, green, half-corroded thing," cried georg. and yet! what memories the sight of it awakens! did not some roman armorer forge it for the wandering emperor? when i look at this coat of mail, rome and her legions appear before my eyes. who would not, like you, herr wilhelna, go to the tiber to increase the short span of the present by the long centuries of the past!" "i should be glad to go to italy once more with you," replied wilhelm. "and i with you." "let us first secure our liberty," said the musician. "when that is accomplished, each individual will belong to himself, and then: why should i conceal it, nothing will keep me in leyden." "and the organ? your father?" asked aquanus. "my brothers will remain here, snug in their own nest," answered wilhelm. "but something urges, impels me--" "there are still waters and rivers on earth," interrupted georg, "and in the sky the fixed stars remain quiet and the planets cannot cease from wandering. so among human beings, there are contented persons, who like their own places, and birds of passage like us. to be sure, you needn't go to italy to hear fine singing. i just heard a voice, a voice--" "where? you make me eager." "in the court-yard of herr van der werff's house." "that was his wife." "oh, no! her voice sounds differently." during this conversation, captain van der laen had risen and examined the landlord's singular treasures. he was now standing before a board, on which the head of an ox was sketched in charcoal, freely, boldly and with perfect fidelity to nature. "what magnificent piece of beef is this?" he asked the landlord. "no less a personage than frank floris sketched it," replied aquanus. "he once came here from brussels and called on meister artjen. the old man had gone out, so floris took a bit of charcoal and drew these lines with it. when artjen came home and found the ox's head, he stood before it a long time and finally exclaimed: 'frank floris, or the devil!' this story--but there comes the burgomaster. welcome, meister peter. a rare honor." all the guests rose and respectfully greated van der werff; georg started up to offer him his chair. peter sat down for a short time and drank a glass of wine, but soon beckoned to the junker and went out with him into the street. there he briefly requested him to go to his house, for they had an important communication to make, and then went to van hout's residence, which was close beside the inn. georg walked thoughtfully towards the burgomaster's. the "they" could scarcely have referred to any one except maria. what could she want of him at so late an hour? had his friend regretted having offered him lodgings in her own house? he was to move into his new quarters early next morning; perhaps she wished to inform him of this change of mind, before it was too late. maria treated him differently from before, there was no doubt of that, but surely this was natural! he had dreamed of a different, far different meeting! he had come to holland to support the good cause of orange, yet he would certainly have turned his steed towards his beloved italy, where a good sword was always in demand, instead of to the north, had he not hoped to find in holland her, whom he had never forgotten, for whom he had never ceased to long-now she was the wife of another, a man who had shown him kindness, given him his confidence. to tear his love from his heart was impossible; but he owed it to her husband and his own honor to be strong, to resolutely repress every thought of possessing her, and only rejoice in seeing her; and this he must try to accomplish. he had told himself all these things more than once, but realized that he was walking with unsteady steps, upon a narrow pathway, when she met him outside the dining-room and he felt how cold and tremulous was the hand she laid in his. maria led the way, and he silently followed her into henrica's room. the latter greeted him with a friendly gesture, but both ladies hesitated to utter the first word. the young man turned hastily, noticed that he was in the room overlooking the court-yard, and said, eagerly: i was down below just before twilight, to look at my new quarters, and heard singing from this room, and such singing! at first i didn't know what was coming, for the tones were husky, weak, and broken, but afterwards-afterwards the melody burst forth like a stream of lava through the ashes. we ought to wish many sorrows to one, who can lament thus." "you shall make the singer's acquaintance," said maria, motioning towards the young girl. "fraulein henrica van hoogstraten, a beloved guest in our house." "were you the songstress?" asked georg. "does that surprise you?" replied henrica. "my voice has certainly retained its strength better than my body, wasted by long continued suffering. i feel how deeply my eyes are sunken and how pale i must be. singing certainly lightens pain, and i have been deprived of the comforter long enough. not a note has passed my lips for weeks, and now my heart aches so, that i would far rather weep than sing. 'what troubles me?' you will ask, and yet maria gives me courage to request a chivalrous service, almost without parallel, at your hands." "speak, speak," georg eagerly exclaimed. "if frau maria summons me and i can serve you, dear lady: here i am, dispose of me." henrica did not avoid his frank glance, as she replied: "first hear what a great service we ask of you. you must prepare yourself to hear a short story. i am still weak and have put my strength to a severe test to-day, maria must speak for me." the young wife fulfilled this task quietly and clearly, closing with the words: "the messenger we need, i have found myself. you must be he, junker georg." henrica had not interrupted the burgomaster's wife; but now said warmly "i have only made your acquaintance to-day, but i trust you entirely. a few hours ago, black would have been my color, but if you will be my knight, i'll choose cheerful green, for i now begin to hope again. will you venture to take the ride for me?" hitherto georg had gazed silently at the floor. now he raised his head, saying: "if i can obtain leave of absence, i will place myself at your disposal; --but my lady's color is blue, and i am permitted to wear no other." henrica's lips quivered slightly, but the young nobleman continued: "captain van der laen is my superior officer. i'll speak to him at once." "and if he says no?" asked maria. henrica interrupted her and answered haughtily: "then i beg you to send me herr wilhelm, the musician." georg bowed and went to the tavern. as soon as the ladies were alone, the young girl asked: "do you know herr von dornburg's lady?" "how should i?" replied maria. "give yourself a little rest, fraulein. as soon as the junker comes back, i'll bring him to you." the young wife left the room and seated herself at the spinning-wheel with barbara. georg kept them waiting a long time, but at midnight again appeared, accompanied by two companions. it was not within the limits of the captain's authority to grant him a leave of absence for several weeks--the journey to italy would have required that length of time--but the junker had consulted the musician, and the latter had found the right man, with whom wilhelm speedily made the necessary arrangements, and brought him without delay: it was the old steward, belotti. chapter xxvi. on the morning of the following day the spacious shooting-grounds, situated not far from the white gate, between the rapenburg and the citywall, presented a busy scene, for by a decree of the council the citizens and inhabitants, without exception, no matter whether they were poor or rich, of noble or plebeian birth, were to take a solemn oath to be loyal to the prince and the good cause. commissioner van bronkhorst, burgomaster van der werff, and two other magistrates, clad in festal attire, stood under a group of beautiful linden-trees to receive the oaths of the men and youths, who flocked to the spot. the solemn ceremonial had not yet commenced. janus dousa, in full uniform, a coat of mail over his doublet and a helmet on his head, arm-in-arm with van hout, approached meister peter and the commissioner, saying: "here it is again! not one of the humbler citizens and workmen is absent, but the gentlemen in velvet and fur are but thinly represented." "they shall come yet!" cried the city clerk menacingly. "what will formal vows avail?" replied the burgomaster. "whoever desires liberty, must grant it. besides, this hour will teach us on whom we can depend." "not a single man of the militia is absent," said the commissioner. "there is comfort in that. what is stirring yonder in the linden?" the men looked up and perceived adrian, who was swaying in the top of the tree, as a concealed listener. "the boy must be everywhere," exclaimed peter. "come down, saucy lad. you appear at a convenient time." the boy clung to a limb with his hands, let himself drop to the ground and stood before his father with a penitent face, which he knew how to assume when occasion required. the burgomaster uttered no further words of reproof, but bade him go home and tell his mother, that he saw no possibility of getting belotti through the spanish lines in safety, and also that father damianus had promised to call on the young lady in the course of the day. "hurry, adrian, and you, constables, keep all unbidden persons away from these trees, for any place where an oath is taken becomes sacred ground-the clergymen have seated themselves yonder near the target. they have the precedence. have the kindness to summon them, herr van hout. dominie verstroot wishes to make an address, and then i would like to utter a few words of admonition to the citizens myself." van hout withdrew, but before he had reached the preachers junker von warmond appeared, and reported that a messenger, a handsome young lad, had come as an envoy. he was standing before the white gate and had a letter. "from valdez?" "i don't know; but the young fellow is a hollander and his face is familiar to me." "conduct him here; but don't interrupt us until the ceremony of taking the oath is over. the messenger can tell valdez what he has seen and heard here. it will do the castilian good, to know in advance what we intend." the junker withdrew, and when he returned with nicolas van wibisma, who was the messenger, dominie verstroot had finished his stirring speech. van der werff was still speaking. the sacred fire of enthusiasm sparkled in his eyes, and though the few words he addressed to his fellowcombatants in the deepest chest tones of his powerful voice were plain and unadorned, they found their way to the souls of his auditors. nicolas also followed the speech with a throbbing heart; it seemed as if the tall, earnest man under the linden were speaking directly to him and to him alone, when at the close he raised his voice once more and exclaimed enthusiastically: "and now let what will, come! a brave man from your midst has said to-day: 'we will not yield, so long as an arm is left on our bodies, to raise food to our lips and wield a sword!' if we all think thus, twenty spanish armies will find their graves before these walls. on leyden depends the liberty of holland. if we waver and fall, to escape the misery that only threatens us to-day, but will pitilessly oppress and torture us later, our children will say: 'the men of leyden were blind cowards; it is their fault, that the name of hollander is held in no higher esteem, than that of a useless slave.' but if we faithfully hold out and resist the gloomy foreigner to the last man and the last mouthful of bread, they will remember us with tears and joyfully exclaim: 'we owe it to them, that our noble, industrious, happy people is permitted to place itself proudly beside the other nations, and need no longer tolerate the miserable cuckoo in its own nest. let whoever loves honor, whoever is no degenerate wretch, that betrays his parents' house, whoever would rather be a free man than a slave, ere raising his hand before god to take the oath, exclaim with me: 'long live our shield, orange, and a free holland!'" "they shall live!" shouted hundreds of powerful voices, five, ten, twenty times. the gunner discharged the cannon planted near the target, drums beat, one flourish of trumpets after another filled the air, the ringing of bells from all the towers of the city echoed over the heads of the enthusiastic crowd, and the cheering continued until the commissioner waved his hand and the swearing fealty began. the guilds and the armed defenders of the city pressed forward in bands under the linden. now impetuously, now with dignified calmness, now with devout exaltation, hands were raised to take the oath, and whoever clasped hands did so with fervent warmth. two hours elapsed before all had sworn loyalty, and many a group that had passed under the linden together, warmly grasped each other's hands on the grounds in pledge of a second silent vow. nicolas van wibisma sat silently, with his letter in his lap, beside a target opposite the spot where the oath was taken, but sorrowful, bitter emotions were seething in his breast. how gladly he would have wept aloud and torn his father's letter! how gladly, when he saw the venerable herr van montfort come hand in hand with the grey-haired van der does to be sworn, he would have rushed to their side to take the oath, and call to the earnest man beneath the linden: "i am no degenerate wretch, who betrays his parents' house; i desire to be no slave, no spaniard; i am a netherlander, like yourself." but he did not go, did not speak, he remained sitting motionless till the ceremony was over and junker von warmond conducted him under the linden. van hout and both the van der does had joined the magistrates who had administered the oath. bowing silently, nicolas delivered his father's letter to the burgomaster. van der werff broke the seal, and after reading it, handed it to the other gentlemen, then turning to nicolas, said: "wait here, junker. your father counsels us to yield the city to the spaniards, and promises a pardon from the king. you cannot doubt the answer, after what you have heard in this place." "there is but one," cried van hout, in the midst of reading the letter. "tear the thing up and make no reply." "ride home, in god's name," added janus dousa. "but wait, i'll give you something more for valdez." "then you will vouchsafe no reply to my father's letter?" asked nicolas. "no, junker. we wish to hold no intercourse with baron matanesse," replied the commissioner. "as for you, you can return home or wait here; just as you choose." "go to your cousin, junker," said janus dousa kindly; "it will probably be an hour before i can find paper, pen and sealing wax. fraulein van hoogstraten will be glad to hear, through you, from her father." "if agreeable to you, young sir," added the burgomaster; "my house stands open to you." nicolas hesitated a moment, then said quickly: "yes, take me to her." when the youth had reached the north end of the city with herr von warmond, who had undertaken to accompany him, he asked the latter: "are you junker van duivenvoorde, herr von warmond?" "i am." "and you captured brill, with the beggars, from the spaniards?" "i had that good fortune." "and yet, you are of a good old family. and were there not other noblemen with the beggars also?" "certainly. do you suppose it ill-beseems us, to have a heart for our ancestors' home? my forefathers, as well as yours, were noble before a spaniard ever entered the land." but king philip rules us as the lawful sovereign." "unhappily. and therefore we obey his stadtholder, the prince, who reigns in his name. the perjured hangman needs a guardian. ask on; i'll answer willingly." nicolas did not heed the request, but walked silently beside his companion until they reached the achtergracht. there he stood still, seized the captain's arm in great excitement, and said hastily in low, broken sentences: "it weighs on my heart. i must tell some one. i want to be dutch. i hate the castilians. i have learned to know them in leyderdorp and at the hague. they don't heed me, because i am young, and they are not aware that i understand their language. so my eyes were opened. when they speak of us, it is with contempt and scorn. i know all that has been done by alva and vargas. i have heard from the spaniards' own lips, that they would like to root us out, exterminate us. if i could only do as i pleased, and were it not for my father, i know what i would do. my head is so confused. the burgomaster's speech is driving me out of my wits. tell him, junket, i beseech you, tell him i hate the spaniards and it would be my pride to be a netherlander." both had continued their walk, and as they approached the burgomaster's house, the captain, who had listened to the youth with joyful surprise, said: "you're cut from good timber, junker, and on the way to the right goal. only keep herr peter's speech in your mind, and remember what you have learned in history. to whom belong the shining purple pages in the great book of national history? to the tyrants, their slaves and eye-servants, or the men who lived and died for liberty? hold up your head. this conflict will perhaps outlast both our lives, and you still have a long time to put yourself on the right side. the nobleman must serve his prince, but he need be no slave of a ruler, least of all a foreigner, an enemy of his nation. here we are; i'll come for you again in an hour. give me your hand. i should like to call you by your christian name in future, my brave nico." "call me so," exclaimed the youth, "and--you'll send no one else? i should like to talk with you again." the junker was received in the burgomaster's house by barbara. henrica could not see him immediately, father damianus was with her, so he was obliged to wait in the dining-room until the priest appeared. nicolas knew him well, and had even confessed to him once the year before. after greeting the estimable man and answering his inquiry how he had come there, he said frankly and hastily: "forgive me, father, but something weighs upon my heart. you are a holy man, and must know. is it a crime, if a hollander fights against the spaniards, is it a sin, if a hollander wishes to be and remain what god made him? i can't believe it." "nor do i," replied damianus in his simple manner. "whoever clings firmly to our holy church, whoever loves his neighbor and strives to do right, may confidently favor the dutch, and pray and fight for the freedom of his native land." "ah!" exclaimed nicolas, with sparkling eyes. "for," continued damianus more eagerly, "for you see, before the spaniards came into the country, they were good catholics here and led devout lives, pleasing in the sight of god. why should it not be so again? the most high has separated men into nations, because he wills, that they should lead their own lives and shape them for their salvation and his honor; but not to give the stronger nation the right to torture and oppress another. suppose your father went out to walk and a spanish grandee should jump on his shoulders and make him taste whip and spur, as if he were a horse. it would be bad for the castilian. now substitute holland for herr matanesse, and spain for the grandee, and you will know what i mean. there is nothing left for us to do, except cast off the oppressor. our holy church will sustain no loss. god appointed it, and it will stand whether king philip or another rules. now you know my opinion. do i err or not, in thinking that the name of glipper no longer pleases you, dear junker?" "no, father damianus!--you are right, a thousand times right. it is no sin, to desire a free holland." "who told you it was one?" "canon bermont and our chaplain." "then we are of a different opinion concerning this temporal matter. give to god the things that are god's, and remain where the lord placed you. when your beard grows, if you wish to fight for the liberty of holland, do so confidently. that is a sin for which i will gladly grant you absolution." henrica was greatly delighted to see the fresh, happy-looking youth again. nicolas was obliged to tell her about her father and his, and inform her how he had come to leyden. when she heard that he intended to return in an hour, a bright idea entered her mind, which was wholly engrossed by belotti's mission. she told nicolas what she meant to do, and begged him to take the steward through the spanish army to the hague. the junker was not only ready to fulfil her request, but promised that, if the old man wanted to return, he would apprize her of it in some way. at the end of an hour she bade the boy farewell, and when again walking towards the achtergracht with herr von warmond, he asked joyously: "how shall i get to the beggars?" "you?" asked the captain in astonishment. "yes, i!" replied the junker eagerly. "i shall soon be seventeen, and when i am--wait, just wait--you'll hear of me yet." "right, nicolas, right," replied the other. "let us be holland nobles and noble hollanders." three hours later, junker matanesse van wibisma rode into the hague with belotti, whom he had loved from childhood. he brought his father nothing but a carefully-folded and sealed letter, which janus dousa, with a mischievous smile, had given him on behalf of the citizens of leyden for general valdez, and which contained, daintily inscribed on a large sheet, the following lines from dionysius cato: "fistula dulce canit volucrem dum decipit auceps." ["sweet are the notes of the flute, when the fowler lures the bird to his nest."] chapter xxvii. the first week in june and half the second had passed, the beautiful sunny days had drawn to a close, and numerous guests sought the "angulus" in aquarius's tavern during the evening hours. it was so cosy there when the sea-breeze whistled, the rain poured, and the water fell plashing on the pavements. the spanish besieging army encompassed the city like an iron wall. each individual felt that he was a fellow-prisoner of his neighbor, and drew closer to companions of his own rank and opinions. business was stagnant, idleness and anxiety weighed like lead on the minds of all, and whoever wished to make time pass rapidly and relieve his oppressed soul, went to the tavern to give utterance to his own hopes and fears, and hear what others were thinking and feeling in the common distress. all the tables in the angulus were occupied, and whoever wanted to be understood by a distant neighbor was forced to raise his voice very loud, for special conversations were being carried on at every table. here, there, and everywhere, people were shouting to the busy bar-maid, glasses clinked together, and pewter lids fell on the tops of hard stone-ware jugs. the talk at a round table in the end of the long room was louder than anywhere else. six officers had seated themselves at it, among them georg von dornburg. captain van der laen, his superior officer, whose past career had been a truly heroic one, was loudly relating in his deep voice, strange and amusing tales of his travels by sea and land, colonel mulder often interrupted him, and at every somewhat incredible story, smilingly told a similar, but perfectly impossible adventure of his own. captain van duivenvoorde soothingly interposed, when van der laen, who was conscious of never deviating far from the truth, angrily repelled the old man's jesting insinuations. captain cromwell, a grave man with a round head and smooth long hair, who had come to holland to fight for the faith, rarely mingled in the conversation, and then only with a few words of scarcely intelligible dutch. georg, leaning far back in his chair, stretched his feet out before him and stared silently into vacancy. herr aquanus, the host, walked from one table to another, and when he at last reached the one where the officers sat, paused opposite to the thuringian, saying: "where are your thoughts, junker? one would scarcely know you during the last few days. what has come over you?" georg hastily sat erect, stretched himself like a person roused from sleep, and answered pleasantly: "dreams come in idleness." "the cage is getting too narrow for him," said captain van der laen. "if this state of things lasts long, we shall all get dizzy like the sheep." "and as stiff as the brazen pagan god on the shelf yonder," added colonel mulder. "there was the same complaint during the first siege," replied the host, "but herr von noyelles drowned his discontent and emptied many a cask of my best liquor." "tell the gentlemen how he paid you," cried colonel mulder. "there hangs the paper framed," laughed aquarius. "instead of sending money, he wrote this: 'full many a favor, dear friend, hast thou done me, for which good hard coin glad wouldst thou be to see there's none in my pockets; so for the debt in place of dirty coin, this written sheet so fine; paper money in leyden is easy to get.'" "excellent!" cried junker von warmond, "and besides you made the die for the pasteboard coins yourself." "of course! herr von noyelles' sitting still, cost me dear. you have already made two expeditions." "hush, hush, for god's sake say nothing about the first sally!" cried the captain. "a well-planned enterprise, which was shamefully frustrated, because the leader lay down like a mole to sleep! where has such a thing happened a second time?" "but the other ended more fortunately," said the host. "three hundred hams, one hundred casks of beer, butter, ammunition, and the most worthless of all spies into the bargain; always an excellent prize." "and yet a failure!" cried captain van der laen, "we ought to have captured and brought in all the provision ships on the leyden lake! and the kaag! to think that this fort on the island should be in the hands of the enemy." "but the people have held out bravely," said von warmond. "there are real devils among them," replied van der laen, laughing. "one struck a spaniard down and, in the midst of the battle, took off his red breeches and pulled them on his own legs." "i know the man," added the landlord, "his name is van keulen; there he sits yonder over his beer, telling the people all sorts of queer stories. a fellow with a face like a satyr. we have no lack of comfort yet! remember chevraux' defeat, and the beggars' victory at vlissingen on the scheldt." "to brave admiral boisot and the gallant beggar troops!" cried captain van der laen, touching glasses with colonel mulder. the latter turned with upraised beaker towards the thuringian and, as the junker who had relapsed into his reverie, did not notice the movement, irritably exclaimed: "well, herr dornburg, you require a long time to pledge a man." georg started and answered hastily: "pledge? oh! yes. pledge. i pledge you, colonel!" with these words he raised the goblet, drained it at a single draught, made the nail test and replaced it on the table. "well done!" cried the old man; and herr aquanus said: "he learned that at the university; studying makes people thirsty." as he uttered the words, he cast a friendly glance of anxiety at the young german, and then looked towards the door, through which wilhelm had just entered the angulus. the landlord went to meet him and whispered: "i don't like the german nobleman's appearance. the singing lark has become a mousing night-bird. what ails him?" "home-sickness, no news from his family, and the snare into which the war has drawn him in his pursuit of glory and honor. he'll soon be his old self again." "i hope so," replied the host. "such a succulent little tree will quickly rebound, when it is pressed to the earth; help the fine young fellow." a guest summoned the landlord, but the musician joined the officers and began a low conversation with georg, which was drowned by the confused mingling of loud voices. wilhelm came from the van der werff house, where he had learned that the next day but one, june fourteenth, would be the burgomaster's birthday. adrian had told henrica, and the latter informed him. the master of the house was to be surprised with a song on the morning of his birthday festival. "excellent," said georg, interrupting his friend, "she will manage the matter admirably." "not she alone; we can depend upon fran van der werff too. at first she wanted to decline, but when i proposed a pretty madrigal, yielded and took the soprano." "the soprano?" asked the junker excitedly. "of course i'm at your service. let us go; have you the notes at home?" "no, herr von dornburg, i have just taken them to the ladies; but early to-morrow morning--" "there will be a rehearsal early to-morrow morning! the jug is for me, jungfer dortchen! your health, colonel mulder! captain huivenvoorde, i drain this goblet to your new standard and hope to have many a jolly ride by your side." the german's eyes again sparkled with an eager light, and when captain van der laen, continuing his conversation, cried enthusiastically: "the beggars of the sea will yet sink the spanish power. the sea, gentlemen. the sea! to base one's cause on nothing, is the best way! to exult, leap and grapple in the storm! to fight and struggle man to man and breast to breast on the deck of the enemy's ship! to fight and conquer, or perish with the foe!" "to your health, junker!" exclaimed the colonel. "zounds, we need such youths!" "now you are your old self again," said wilhelm, turning to his friend. "touch glasses to your dear ones at home." "two glasses for one," cried georg. "to the dear ones at home--to the joys and sorrows of the heart, to the fair woman we love! war is rapture, love is life! let the wounds bleed, let the heart break into a thousand pieces. laurels grow green on the battle-field, love twines garlands of roses-roses with thorns, yet beautiful roses! go, beaker! no other lips shall drink from you." georg's cheeks glowed as he flung the glass goblet into a corner of the room, where it shattered into fragments. his comrades at the table cheered loudly, but captain cromwell rose quietly to leave the room, and the landlord shook his wise head doubtfully. it seemed as if fire had poured into georg's soul and his spirit had gained wings. the thick waving locks curled in dishevelled masses around his handsome head, as leaning far back in his chair with unfastened collar, he mingled clever sallies and brilliant similes with the quiet conversation of the others. wilhelm listened to his words sometimes with admiration, sometimes with anxiety. it was long past midnight, when the musician left the tavern with his friend. colonel mulder looked after him and exclaimed to those left behind: "the fellow is possessed with a devil." the next morning the madrigal was practised at the burgomaster's house, while its master was presiding over a meeting at the town-hall. georg stood between henrica and maria. so long as the musician found it necessary to correct errors and order repetitions, a cheerful mood pervaded the little choir, and barbara, in the adjoining room, often heard the sound of innocent laughter; but when each had mastered his or her part and the madrigal was faultlessly executed, the ladies grew more and more grave. maria gazed fixedly at the sheet of music, and rarely had her voice sounded so faultlessly pure, so full of feeling. georg adapted his singing to hers and his eyes, whenever they were raised from the notes, rested on her face. henrica sought to meet the junker's glance, but always in vain, yet she wished to divert his attention from the young wife, and it tortured her to remain unnoticed. some impulse urged her to surpass maria, and the whole passionate wealth of her nature rang out in her singing. her fervor swept the others along. maria's treble rose exultantly above the german's musical voice, and henrica's tones blended angrily yet triumphantly in the strain. the delighted and inspired musician beat the time and, borne away by the liquid melody of henrica's voice, revelled in sweet recollections of her sister. when the serenade was finished, he eagerly cried: "again!" the rivalry between the singers commenced with fresh vigor, and this time the junker's beaming gaze met the young wife's eyes. she hastily lowered the notes, stepped out of the semicircle, and said: "we know the madrigal. early to-morrow morning, meister wilhelm; my time is limited." "oh, oh!" cried the musician regretfully. "it was going on so splendidly, and there were only a few bars more." but maria was already standing at the door and made no reply, except: "to-morrow." the musician enthusiastically thanked henrica for her singing; georg courteously expressed his gratitude. when both had taken leave, henrica paced rapidly to and fro, passionately striking her clenched fist in the palm of her other hand. the singers were ready early on the birthday morning, but peter had risen before sunrise, for there was a proposition to be arranged with the city clerk, which must be completed before the meeting of the council. nothing was farther from his thoughts than his birthday, and when the singers in the dining-room commenced their madrigal, he rapped on the door, exclaiming: "we are busy; find another place for your singing." the melody was interrupted for a moment, and barbara said: "people picking apples don't think of fishing-nets. he has no idea it is his birthday. let the children go in first." maria now entered the study with adrian and bessie. they carried bouquets in their hands, and the young wife had dressed the little girl so prettily that, in her white frock, she really looked like a dainty fairy. peter now knew the meaning of the singing, warmly embraced the three well-wishers, and when the madrigal began again, stood opposite to the performers to listen. true, the execution was not nearly so good as at the rehearsal, for maria sang in a low and somewhat muffled voice, while, spite of wilhelm's vehement beating of time, the warmth and verve of the day before would not return. "admirable, admirable," cried peter, when the singers ceased. "well planned and executed, a beautiful birthday surprise." then he shook hands with each, saying a few cordial words and, as he grasped the junker's right hand, remarked warmly: "you have dropped down on us from the skies during these bad days, just at the right time. it is always something to have a home in a foreign land, and you have found one with us." georg had bent his eyes on the floor, but at the last words raised them and met the burgomaster's. how honestly, how kindly and frankly they looked at him! deep emotion overpowered him, and without knowing what he was doing, he laid his hands on peter's arms and hid his face on his shoulder. van der werff suffered him to do so, stroked the youth's hair, and said smiling: "like leonhard, wife, just like our leonhard. we will dine together to-day. you, too, van hout; and don't forget your wife." maria assigned the seats at the table, so that she was not obliged to look at georg. his place was beside frau van hout and opposite henrica and the musician. at first he was silent and embarrassed, but henrica gave him no rest, and when he had once begun to answer her questions he was soon carried away by her glowing vivacity, and gave free, joyous play to his wit. henrica did not remain in his debt, her eyes sparkled, and in the increasing pleasure of trying the power of her intellect against his, she sought to surpass every jest and repartee made by the junker. she drank no wine, but was intoxicated by her own flow of language and so completely engrossed georg's attention, that he found no time to address a word to the other guests. if he attempted to do so, she quickly interrupted him and compelled him to turn to her again. this constraint annoyed the young man; while struggling against it his spirit of wantonness awoke, and he began to irritate henrica into making unprecedented assertions, which he opposed with equally unwarrantable ones of his own. maria sometimes listened to the young lady in surprise, and there was something in georg's manner that vexed her. peter took little notice of henrica; he was talking with van hout about the letters from the glippers asking a surrender, three of which had already been brought into the city, of the uncertain disposition of some members of the council and the execution of the captured spy. wilhelm, who had scarcely vouchsafed his neighbor an answer, was now following the conversation of the older men and remarked, that he had known the traitor. he was a tavern-keeper, in whose inn he had once met herr matanesse van wibisma. "there we have it," said van hout. "a note was found in quatgelat's pouch, and the writing bore a mysterious resemblance to the baron's hand. quatgelat was to enquire about the quantity of provisions in leyden." "all alike!" exclaimed the burgomaster. "unhappily he could have brought tidings only too welcome to valdez. little that is cheering has resulted from the investigation; though the exact amount has not yet been ascertained." "we must place it during the next few days in charge of the ladies." "give it to the women?" asked peter in astonishment. "yes, to us!" cried van hout's wife. "why should we sit idle, when we might be of use." "give us the work!" exclaimed maria. "we are as eager as you, to render the great cause some service." "and believe me," added frau van hout, "we shall find admittance to store-rooms and cellars much more quickly than constables and guards, whom the housewives fear." "women in the service of the city," said peter thoughtfully. "to be honest--but your proposal shall be considered.--the young lady is in good spirits today." maria glanced indignantly at henrica, who had leaned far across the table. she was showing georg a ring, and laughingly exclaimed: "don't you wish to know what the device means? look, a serpent biting its own tail." "aha!" replied the junker, "the symbol of self-torment." "good, good! but it has another meaning, which you would do well to notice, sir knight. do you know the signification of eternity and eternal faith?" "no, fraulein, i wasn't taught to think so deeply at jena." "of course. your teachers were men. men and faith, eternal faith!" "was delilah, who betrayed samson to the philistines, a man or a woman?" asked van hout. "she was a woman. the exception, that proves the rule. isn't that so, maria?" the burgomaster's wife made no reply except a silent nod; then indignantly pushed back her chair, and the meal was over. etext editor's bookmarks: drinking is also an art, and the germans are masters of it here the new custom of tobacco-smoking was practised standing still is retrograding to whom fortune gives once, it gives by bushels youth calls 'much,' what seems to older people 'little' this ebook was produced by david widger <widger@cecomet.net> [note: there is a short list of bookmarks, or pointers, at the end of the file for those who may wish to sample the author's ideas before making an entire meal of them. d.w.] margery by georg ebers volume 1. translator's note: in translating what is supposed to be a transcript into modern german of the language of nuremberg in the fifteenth century, i have made no attempt to imitate english phraseology of the same date. the difficulty would in fact be insuperable to the writer and the annoyance to the reader almost equally great. i have merely endeavored to avoid essentially modern words and forms of speech. introduction: "pietro giustiniani, merchant, of venice." this was the signature affixed to his receipt by the little antiquary in the city of st. mark, from whom i purchased a few stitched sheets of manuscript. what a name and title! as i remarked on the splendor of his ancestry he slapped his pocket, and exclaimed, half in pride and half in lamentation: "yes, they had plenty of money; but what has become of it?" "and have you no record of their deeds?" i asked the little man, who himself wore a moustache with stiff military points to it. "their deeds!" he echoed scornfully. "i wish they had been less zealous in their pursuit of fame and had managed their money matters better!-poor child!" and he pointed to little marietta who was playing among the old books, and with whom i had already struck up a friendship. she this day displayed some strange appendage in the lobes of her ears, which on closer examination i found to be a twist of thread. the child's pretty dark head was lying confidentially against my arm and as, with my fingers, i felt this singular ornament, i heard, from behind the little desk at the end of the counter, her mother's shrill voice in complaining accents: "aye, sir, it is a shame in a family which has given three saints to the church--saint nicholas, saint anna, and saint eufemia, all three giustinianis as you know--in a family whose sons have more than once worn a cardinal's hat--that a mother, sir, should be compelled to let her own child--but you are fond of the little one, sir, as every one is hereabout. heh, marietta! what would you say if the gentleman were to give you a pair of ear-rings, now; real gold ear-rings i mean? thread for ear-rings, sir, in the ears of a giustiniani! it is absurd, preposterous, monstrous; and a right-thinking gentleman like you, sir, will never deny that." how could i neglect such a hint; and when i had gratified the antiquary's wife, i could reflect with some pride that i might esteem myself a benefactor to a family which boasted of its descent from the emperor justinian, which had been called the 'fabia gens' of venice, and, in its day had given to the republic great generals, far-seeing statesmen, and admirable scholars. when, at length, i had to quit the city and took leave of the curiositydealer, he pressed my hand with heartfelt regret; and though the signora giustiniani, as she pocketed a tolerably thick bundle of paper money, looked at me with that kindly pity which a good woman is always ready to bestow on the inexperienced, especially when they are young, that, no doubt, was because the manuscript i had acquired bore such a dilapidated appearance. the margins of the thick old nuremberg paper were eaten into by mice and insects, in many places black patches like tinder dropped away from the yellow pages; indeed, many passages of the once clear writing had so utterly faded that i scarcely hoped to see them made legible again by the chemist's art. however, the contents of the document were so interesting and remarkable, so unique in relation to the time when it was written, that they irresistibly riveted my attention, and in studying them i turned half the night into day. there were nine separate parts. all, except the very last one, were in the same hand, and they seemed to have formed a single book before they were torn asunder. the cover and title-page were lost, but at the head of the first page these words were written in large letters: "the book of my life." then followed a long passage in crude verse, very much to this effect. "what we behold with waking eye can, to our judgment, never lie, and what through sense and sight we gain. becometh part of soul and brain. look round the world in which you dwell nor, snail-like, live within your shell; and if you see his world aright the lord shall grant you double sight. for, though your mind and soul be small, if you but open them to all the great wide world, they will expand those glorious things to understand. when heart and brain are great with love man is most like the lord above. look up to him with patient eye not on your own infirmity. in pious trust yourself forget for others only toil and fret, since all we do for fellow men with right good will, shall be our gain. what if the folk should call you fool care not, but act by virtue's rule, contempt and curses let them fling, god's blessing shields you from their sting. grey is my head but young my heart; in nuremberg, ere i depart, children and grandchildren, for you i write this book, and it is true." margery schopper. below the verses the text of the narrative began with these words: "in the yere of our lord m/cccc/lx/vi dyd i begynne to wrtre in thys lytel boke thys storie of my lyf, as i haue lyued it." it was in her sixty-second year that the writer had first begun to note down her reminiscences. this becomes clear as we go on, but it may be gathered from the first lines on the second page which begins thus: "i, margery schopper, was borne in the yere of our lord m/cccc/iv on a twesday after 'palmarum' sonday, at foure houris after mydnyght. myn uncle kristan pfinzing was god sib to me in my chrystening. my fader, god assoyle his soul, was franz schopper, iclyped the singer. he dyed on a monday after 'laetare'--[the fourth sunday in lent.]- sonday m/cccc/iv. and he hadde to wyf kristine peheym whyche was my moder. also she bare to hym my brethren herdegen and kunz schopper. my moder dyed in the vigil of seint kateryn m/cccc/v. thus was i refte of my moder whyle yet a babe; also the lord broughte sorwe upon me in that of hys grace he callyd my fader out of thys worlde before that ever i sawe the lyght of dai." these few lines, which i read in the little antiquary's shop, betrayed me to my ruin; for, in my delight at finding the daily journal of a german housewife of the beginning of the fifteenth century my heart overflowed; forgetting all prudence i laughed aloud, exclaiming "splendid," "wonderful," "what a treasure!" but it would have been beyond all human power to stand speechless, for, as i read on, i found things which far exceeded my fondest expectations. the writer of these pages had not been content, like the other chroniclers of her time and of her native townsuch as ulman stromer, andres tucher and their fellows--to register notable facts without any connection, the family affairs, items of expenditure and mercantile measures of her day; she had plainly and candidly recorded everything that had happened to her from her childhood to the close of her life. this margery had inherited some of her father's artistic gifts; he is mentioned in ulman stromer's famous chronicle, where he is spoken of as "the singer." it was to her mother, however, that she owed her bold spirit, for she was a behaim, cousin to the famous traveller behaim of schwarzbach, whose mother is known to have been one of the schopper family, daughter to herdegen schopper. in the course of a week i had not merely read the manuscript, but had copied a great deal of what seemed to me best worth preservation, including the verses. i subsequently had good reason to be glad that i had taken so much pains, though travelling about at the time; for a cruel disaster befel the trunk in which the manuscript was packed, with other books and a few treasures, and which i had sent home by sea. the ship conveying them was stranded at the mouth of the elbe and my precious manuscript perished miserably in the wreck. the nine stitched sheets, of which the last was written by the hand of margery schopper's younger brother, had found their way to venice--as was recorded on the last page--in the possession of margery's great-grandson, who represented the great mercantile house of im hoff on the fondaco, and who ultimately died in the city of st. mark. when that famous firm was broken up the papers were separated from their cover and had finally fallen into the hands of the curiosity dealer of whom i bought them. and after surviving travels on land, risk of fire, the ravages of worms and the ruthlessness of man for four centuries, they finally fell a prey to the destructive fury of the waves; but my memory served me well as to the contents, and at my bidding was at once ready to aid me in restoring the narrative i had read. the copied portions were a valuable aid, and imagination was able to fill the gaps; and though it failed, no doubt, to reproduce margery schopper's memoirs phrase for phrase and word for word, i have on the whole succeeded in transcribing with considerable exactitude all that she herself had thought worthy to be rescued from oblivion. moreover i have avoided the repetition of the mode of talk in the fifteenth century, when german was barely commencing to be used as a written language, since scholars, writers, and men of letters always chose the latin tongue for any great or elegant intellectual work. the narrator's expressions would only be intelligible to a select few, and, i should have done my margery injustice, had i left the ideas and descriptions, whose meaning i thoroughly understood, in the clumsy form she had given them. the language of her day is a mirror whose uneven surface might easily reflect the fairest picture in blurred or distorted out lines to modern eyes. much, indeed which most attracted me in her descriptions will have lost its peculiar charm in mine; as to whether i have always supplemented her correctly, that must remain an open question. i have endeavored to throw myself into the mind and spirit of my margery and repeat her tale with occasional amplification, in a familiar style, yet with such a choice of words as seems suitable to the date of her narrative. thus i have perpetuated all that she strove to record for her descendants out of her warm heart and eager brain; though often in mere outline and broken sentences, still, in the language of her time and of her native province. margery chapter i. i, margery schopper, was born in the year of our lord 1404, on the tuesday after palm sunday. my uncle christan pfinzing of the burg, a widower whose wife had been a schopper, held me at the font. my father, god have his soul, was franz schopper, known as franz the singer. he died in the night of the monday after laetare sunday in 1404, and his wife my mother, god rest her, whose name was christine, was born a behaim; she had brought him my two brothers herdegen and kunz, and she died on the eve of saint catharine's day 1404; so that i lost my mother while i was but a babe, and god dealt hardly with me also in taking my father to himself in his mercy, before i ever saw the light. instead of a loving father, such as other children have, i had only a grave in the churchyard, and the good report of him given by such as had known him; and by their account he must have been a right merry and lovable soul, and a good man of business both in his own affairs and in those pertaining to the city. he was called "the singer" because, even when he was a member of the town-council, he could sing sweetly and worthily to the lute. this art he learned in lombardy, where he had been living at padua to study the law there; and they say that among those outlandish folk his music brought him a rich reward in the love of the italian ladies and damsels. he was a well-favored man, of goodly stature and pleasing to look upon, as my brother herdegen his oldest son bears witness, since it is commonly said that he is the living image of his blessed father; and i, who am now an old woman, may freely confess that i have seldom seen a man whose blue eyes shone more brightly beneath his brow, or whose golden hair curled thicker over his neck and shoulders than my brother's in the high day of his happy youth. he was born at eastertide, and the almighty blessed him with a happy temper such as he bestows only on a sunday-child. he, too, was skilled in the art of singing, and as my other brother, my playmate kunz, had also a liking for music and song, there was ever a piping and playing in our orphaned and motherless house, as if it were a nest of mirthful grasshoppers, and more childlike gladness and happy merriment reigned there than in many another house that rejoices in the presence of father and mother. and i have ever been truly thankful to the almighty that it was so; for as i have often seen, the life of children who lack a mother's love is like a day when the sun is hidden by storm-clouds. but the merciful god, who laid his hand on our mother's heart, filled that of another woman with a treasure of love towards me and my brothers. our cousin maud, a childless widow, took upon herself to care for us. as a maid, and before she had married her departed husband, she had been in love with my father, and then had looked up to my mother as a saint from heaven, so she could have no greater joy than to tell us tales about our parents; and when she did so her eyes would be full of tears, and as every word came straight from her heart it found its way straight to ours; and as we three sat round, listening to her, besides her own two eyes there were soon six more wet enough to need a handkerchief. her gait was heavy and awkward, and her face seemed as though it had been hewn out of coarse wood, so that it was a proper face to frighten children; even when she was young they said that her appearance was too like a man and devoid of charms, and for that reason my father never heeded her love for him; but her eyes were like open windows, and out of them looked everything that was good and kind and loving and true, like angels within. for the sake of those eyes you forgot all else; all that was rough in her, and her wide nose with the deep dent just in the middle, and such hair on her lip as many a young stripling might envy her. and sebald kresz knew very well what he was about when he took to wife maud im hoff when he was between sixty and seventy years of age; and she had nothing to look forward to in life as she stood at the altar with him, but to play the part of nurse to a sickly perverse old man. but to maud it seemed as fair a lot to take care of a fellow-creature as it is to many another to be nursed and cherished; and it was the reward of her faithful care that she could keep the old man from the clutch of death for full ten years longer. after his decease she was left a well-to-do widow; but instead of taking thought for herself she at once entered on a life of fresh care, for she undertook the duty of filling the place of mother to us three orphans. as i grew up she would often instruct me in her kind voice, which was as deep as the bass pipe of an organ, that she had set three aims before her in bringing us up, namely: to make us good and godfearing; to teach us to agree among ourselves so that each should be ready to give everything up to the others; and to make our young days as happy as possible. how far she succeeded in the first i leave to others to judge; but a more united family than we ever were i should like any man to show me, and because it was evident from a hundred small tokens how closely we clung together folks used to speak of us as "the three links," especially as the arms borne by the schoppers display three rings linked to form a chain. as for myself, i was the youngest and smallest of the three links, and yet i was the middle one; for if ever it fell that herdegen and kunz had done one thing or another which led them to disagree and avoid or defy each other, they always came together again by seeking me and through my means. but though i thus sometimes acted as peacemaker it is no credit to me, since i did not bring them together out of any virtue or praiseworthy intent, but simply because i could not bear to stand alone, or with only one ring linked to me. alas! how far behind me lies the bright, happy youth of which i now write! i have reached the top of life's hill, nay, i have long since overstepped the ridge; and, as i look back and think of all i have seen and known, it is not to the end that i may get wisdom for myself whereby to do better as i live longer. my old bones are stiff and set; it would be vain now to try to bend them. no, i write this little book for my own pleasure, and to be of use and comfort to my children and grandchildren. may they avoid the rocks on which i have bruised my feet, and where i have walked firmly on may they take example by an old woman's brave spirit, though i have learned in a thousand ways that no man gains profit by any experience other than his own. so i will begin at the beginning. i could find much to tell of my happy childhood, for then everything seems new; but it profits not to tell of what every one has known in his own life, and what more can a nuremberg child have to say of her early growth and school life than ever another. the blades in one field and the trees in one wood share the same lot without any favour. it is true that in many ways i was unlike other children; for my cousin maud would often say that i would not abide rule as beseems a maid, and herdegen's lament that i was not born a boy still sounds in my ears when i call to mind our wild games. any one who knows the window on the first floor, at the back of our house, from which i would jump into the courtyard to do as my brothers did, would be fairly frightened, and think it a wonder that i came out of it with whole bones; but yet i was not always minded to riot with the boys, and from my tenderest years i was a very thoughtful little maid. but there were things; in my young life very apt to sharpen my wits. we schoppers are nearly allied with every worshipful family in the town, or of a rank to sit in the council and bear a coat of arms; these being, in fact, in nuremberg, the class answering to the families of the signoria in venice, whose names are enrolled in the libro d'oro. what the barberighi, the foscari, the grimaldi, the giustiniani and the like, are there, the families of stromer, behaim, im hoff, tucher, kresz, baumgartner, pfinzing, pukheimer, holzschuher, and so forth, are with us; and the schoppers certainly do not rank lowest on the list. we who hold ourselves entitled to bear arms, to ride in tournaments, and take office in the church, and who have a right to call ourselves nobles and patricians, are all more or less kith and kin. wherever in nuremberg there was a fine house we could find there an uncle and aunt, cousins and kinsmen, or at least godparents, and good friends of our deceased parents. wherever one of them might chance to meet us, even if it were in the street, he would say: "poor little orphans! god be good to the fatherless!" and tears would sparkle in the eyes of many a kindhearted woman. even the gentlemen of the council--for most of the elders of our friends were members of it--would stroke my fair hair and look at me as pitifully as though i were some poor sinner for whom there could be no mercy in the eyes of the judges of a court of justice. why was it that men deemed me so unfortunate when i knew no sorrow and my heart was as gay as a singing bird? i could not ask cousin maud, for she was sorely troubled if i had but a finger-ache, and how could i tell her that i was such a miserable creature in the eyes of other folks? but i presently found out for myself why and wherefore they pitied me; for seven who called me fatherless, seventy would speak of me as motherless when they addressed me with pity. our misfortune was that we had no mother. but was there not cousin maud, and was not she as good as any mother? to be sure she was only a cousin, and she must lack something of what a real mother feels. and though i was but a heedless, foolish child i kept my eyes open and began to look about me. i took no one into the secret but my brothers, and though my elder brother chid me, and bid me only be thankful to our cousin for all her goodness, i nevertheless began to watch and learn. there were a number of children at the stromers' house--the golden rose was its name--and they were still happy in having their mother. she was a very cheerful young woman, as plump as a cherry, and pink and white like blood on snow; and she never fixed her gaze on me as others did, but would frolic with me or scold me sharply when i did any wrong. at the muffels, on the contrary, the mistress was dead, and the master had not long after brought home another mother to his little ones, a stepmother, susan, who was my maid, was wont to call her; and such a mother was no more a real mother than our good cousin--i knew that much from the fairy tales to which i was ever ready to hearken. but i saw this very stepmother wash and dress little elsie, her husband's youngest babe and not her own, and lull her till she fell asleep; and she did it right tenderly, and quite as she ought. and then, when the child was asleep she kissed it, too, on its brow and cheeks. and yet mistress stromer, of the golden-rose house, did differently; for when she took little clare that was her own babe out of the water, and laid it on warm clouts on the swaddling board, she buried her face in the sweet, soft flesh, and kissed the whole of its little body all over, before and behind, from head to foot, as if it were all one sweet, rosy mouth; and they both laughed with hearty, loving merriment, as the mother pressed her lips against the babe's white, clean skin and trumpeted till the room rang, or clasped it, wrapped in napkins to her warm breast, as if she could hug it to death. and she broke into a loud, strange laugh, and cried as she fondled it: "my treasure, my darling, my god-sent jewel! my own, my own--i could eat thee!" no, mistress muffel never behaved so to elsie, her husband's babe. notwithstanding i knew right well that cousin maud had been just as fond of me as dame stromer of her own babes, and so far our cousin was no way different from a real mother. and i said as much to myself, when i laid me down to sleep in my little white bed at night, and my cousin came and folded her hands as i folded mine and, after we had said the prayers for the angelus together, as we did every evening, she laid her head by the side of mine, and pressed my baby face to her own big face. i liked this well enough, and i whispered in her ear: "tell me, cousin maud, are you not my real, true mother?" and she hastily replied, "in my heart i am, most truly; and you are a very lucky maid, my margery, for instead of only one mother you have two: me, here below, to care for you and foster you, and the other up among the angels above, looking down on you and beseeching the all-gracious virgin who is so nigh to her, to keep your little heart pure, and to preserve you from all ill; nay, perhaps she herself is wearing a glory and a heavenly crown. look at her face." and cousin maud held up the lamp so that the light fell on a large picture. my eyes beheld the lovely portrait in front of me, and meseemed it looked at me with a deep gaze and stretched out loving arms to me. i sat up in my bed; the feelings which filled my little heart overflowed my lips, and i said in a whisper: "oh, cousin maud! surely my mammy might kiss me for once, and fondle me as mistress stromer does her little clare." cousin maud set the lamp on the table, and without a word she lifted me out of bed and held me up quite close to the face of the picture; and i understood. my lips softly touched the red lips on the canvas; and, as i was all the happier, i fancied that my mother in heaven must be glad too. then my cousin sighed: "well, well!" and murmured other words to herself; she laid me in the bed again, tucked the coverlet tightly round me as i loved to have it, gave me another kiss, waited till i had settled my head on the pillow, and whispered: "now go to sleep and dream of your sainted mother." she quitted the room; but she had left the lamp, and as soon as i was alone i looked once more at the picture, which showed me my mother in right goodly array. she had a rose on her breast, her golden fillet looked like the crown of the queen of heaven, and in her robe of rich, stiff brocade she was like some great saint. but what seemed to me more heavenly than all the rest was her rose and white young face, and the sweet mouth which i had touched with my lips. oh if i had but once had the happiness of kissing that mouth in life! a sudden feeling glowed in my heart, and an inward voice told me that a thousand kisses from cousin maud would never be worth one single kiss from that lovely young mother, and that i had indeed lost almost as much as my pitying friends had said. and i could not help sorrowing, weeping for a long time; i felt as though i had lost just what was best and dearest, and for the first time i saw that my good cousin was right ugly as other folks said, and my silly little head conceived that a real mother must be fair to look upon, and that however kind any one else might be she could never be so gracious and lovable. and so i fell asleep; and in my dreams the picture came towards me out of the frame and took me in her arms as madonna takes her holy child, and looked at me with a gaze as if all the love on earth had met in those eyes. i threw my arms round her neck and waited for her to fondle and play with me like mistress stromer with her little clare; but she gently and sadly shook her head with the golden crownlet, and went up to cousin maud and set me in her lap. "i have never forgot that dream, and often in my prayers have i lifted up my heart to my sainted mother, and cried to her as to the blessed virgin and saint margaret, my name-saint; and how often she has heard me and rescued me in need and jeopardy! as to my cousin, she was ever dearer to me from that night; for had not my own mother given me to her, and when folks looked at me pitifully and bewailed my lot, i could laugh in my heart and think: 'if only you knew! your children have only one mother, but we have two; and our own real mother is prettier than any one's, while the other, for all that she is so ugly, is the best.'" it was the compassion of folks that first led me to such thoughts, and as i grew older i began to deem that their pity had done little good to my young soul. friends are ever at hand to comfort every job; but few are they who come to share his heaviness, all the more so because all men take pleasure in comparing their own fair lot with the evil lot of others. compassion--and i am the last to deny it--is a noble and right healing grace; but those who are so ready to extend it should be cautious how they do so, especially in the case of a child, for a child is like a sapling which needs light, and those who darken the sun that shines on it sin against it, and hinder its growth. instead of bewailing it, make it glad; that is the comfort that befits it. i felt i had discovered a great and important secret and i was eager to make our sainted mother known to my brothers; but they had found her already without any aid from their little sister. i told first one and then the other all that stirred within me, and when i spoke to herdegen, the elder, i saw at once that it was nothing new to him. kunz, the younger, i found in the swing; he flew so high that i thought he would fling himself out, and i cried to him to stop a minute; but, as he clutched the rope tighter and pulled himself together to stand firm on the board, he cried: "leave me now, margery; i want to go up, up; up to heaven--up to where mother is!" that was enough for me; and from that hour we often spoke together of our sainted mother, and cousin maud took care that we should likewise keep our father in mind. she had his portrait--as she had had my mother's-brought from the great dining-room, where it had hung, into the large children's room where she slept with me. and this picture, too, left its mark on my after-life; for when i had the measles, and master paul rieter, the town physician and our doctor, came to see me, he stayed a long time, as though he could not bear to depart, standing in front of the portrait; and when he turned to me again, his face was quite red with sorrowful feeling--for he had been a favorite friend of my father, at padua--and he exclaimed: "what a fortunate child art thou, little margery!" i must have looked at him puzzled enough, for no one had ever esteemed me fortunate, unless it were cousin maud or the waldstromers in the forest; and master paul must have observed my amazement, for he went on. "yea, a happy child art thou; for so are all babes, maids or boys, who come into the world after their father's death." as i gazed into his face, no less astonished than before, he laid the gold knob of his cane against his nose and said: "remember, little simpleton, the good god would not be what he is, would not be a man of honor--god forgive the words--if he did not take a babe whom he had robbed of its father before it had seen the light or had one proof of his love under his own special care. mark what i say, child. is it a small thing to be the ward of a guardian who is not only almighty but true above all truth?" and those words have followed me through all my life till this very hour. chapter ii. thus passed our childhood, as i have already said, in very great happiness; and by the time that my brothers had left the leading strings far behind them, and were studying their 'donatus', cousin maud was teaching me to read and write, and that with much mirth and the most frolicsome ways. for instance, she would stamp four copies of each letter out of sweet honey-cakes, and when i knew them well she gave me these tiny little a. b. c. cakes, and one i ate myself, and gave the others to my brothers, or susan, or my cousin. often i put them in my satchel to carry them into the woods with me, and give them to my cousin gotz's favorite hound or his cross-beak; for he himself did not care for sweets. i shall have many things to tell of him and the forest; even when i was very small it was my greatest joy to be told that we were going to the woods, for there dwelt the dearest and most faithful of all our kinsmen: my uncle waldstromer and his family. the stately huntinglodge in which he dwelt as head forester of the lorenzerwald in the service of the emperor and of our town, had greater joys for me than any other, since not only were there the woods with all their delights and wonders, but also, besides many hounds, a number of strange beasts, and other pastimes such as a town child knows little of. but what i most loved was the only son of my uncle and aunt waldstromer, for whose dog i kept my cake letters; for though cousin gotz was older than i by eleven years, he nevertheless did not scorn me, but whenever i asked him to show me this or that, or teach me some light woodland craft, he would leave his elders to please me. when i was six years old i went to the forest one day in a scarlet velvet hood, and after that he ever called me his little "red riding-hood," and i liked to be called so; and of all the boys and lads i ever met among my brothers' friends or others i deemed none could compare with gotz; my guileless heart was so wholly his that i always mentioned his name in my little prayers. till i was nine we had gone out into the forest three or four times in each year to pass some weeks; but after this i was sent to school, and as cousin maud took it much to heart, because she knew that my father had set great store by good learning, we paid such visits more rarely; and indeed, the strict mistress who ruled my teaching would never have allowed me to break through my learning for pastime's sake. sister margaret, commonly called the carthusian nun, was the name of the singular woman who was chosen to be my teacher. she was at once the most pious and learned soul living; she was prioress of a carthusian nunnery and had written ten large choirbooks, besides others. though the rule of her order forbade discourse, she was permitted to teach. oh, how i trembled when cousin maud first took me to the convent. as a rule my tongue was never still, unless it were when herdegen sang to me, or thought aloud, telling me his dreams of what he would do when he had risen to be chancellor, or captain-in chief of the imperial army, and had found a count's or a prince's daughter to carry home to his grand castle. besides, the wild wood was a second home to me, and now i was shut up in a convent where the silence about me crushed me like a too tight bodice. the walls of the vast antechamber, where i was left to wait, were covered with various texts in latin, and several times repeated were these words under a skull. "bitter as it is to live a carthusian, it is right sweet to die one." there was a crucifix in a shrine, and so much bright red blood flowed from the crown of thorns and the wounds that the sacred body was half covered with it, and i was sore afraid at the sight--oh i can find no words for it! and all the while one nun after another glided through the chamber in silence, and with bowed head, her arms folded, and never so much as lifting an eye to look at me. it was in may; the day was fine and pleasant, but i began to shiver, and i felt as if the spring had bloomed and gone, and i had suddenly forgotten how to laugh and be glad. presently a cat stole in, leapt on to the bench where i sat, and arched her back to rub up against me; but i drew away, albeit i commonly laved to play with animals; for it glared at me strangely with its green eyes, and i had a sudden fear that it would turn into a werewolf and do me a hurt. at length the door opened, and a woman in nun's weeds came in with my cousin; she was the taller by a head. i had never seen so tall a woman, but the nun was very thin, too, and her shoulders scarce broader than my own. ere long, indeed, she stooped a good deal, and as time went on i saw her ever with her back bent and her head bowed. they said she had some hurt of the back-bone, and that she had taken this bent shape from writing, which she always did at night. at first i dared not look up in her face, for my cousin had told me that with her i must be very diligent, that idleness never escaped her keen eyes; and gotz waldstromer knew the meaning of the latin motto with which she began all her writings: "beware lest satan find thee idle!" these words flashed through my mind at this moment; i felt her eye fixed upon me, and i started as she laid her cold, thin fingers on my brow and firmly, but not ungently, made me lift my drooping head. i raised my eyes, and how glad i was when in her pale, thin face i saw nothing but true, sweet good will. she asked me in a low, clear voice, though hardly above a whisper, how old i was, what was my name, and what i had learnt already. she spoke in brief sentences, not a word too little or too many; and she ever set me my tasks in the same manner; for though, by a dispensation, she might speak, she ever bore in mind that at the last day we shall be called to account for every word we utter. at last she spoke of my sainted parents, but she only said: "thy father and mother behold thee ever; therefore be diligent in school that they may rejoice in thee.--to-morrow and every morning at seven." then she kissed me gently on my head, bowed to my cousin without a word, and turned her back upon us. but afterwards, as i walked on in the open air glad to be moving, and saw the blue sky and the green meadows once more, and heard the birds sing and the children at play, i felt as it were a load lifted from my breast; but i likewise felt the tall, silent nun's kiss, and as if she had given me something which did me honor. next morning i went to school for the first time; and whereas it is commonly the part of a child's godparents only to send it parcels of sweetmeats when it goes to school, i had many from various kinsfolks and other of our friends, because they pitied me as a hapless orphan. i thought more of my riches, and how to dispense them, than of school and tasks; and as my cousin would only put one parcel into my little satchel i stuffed another--quite a little one, sent me by rich mistress grosz, with a better kind of sweeties--into the wallet which hung from my girdle. on the way i looked about at the folks to see if they observed how i had got on, and my little heart beat fast as i met my cousin gotz in front of master pernhart's brass-smithy. he had come from the forest to live in the town, that he might learn book-keeping under the tax-gatherers. we greeted each other merrily, and he pulled my plait of hair and went on his way, while i felt as if this meeting had brought me good luck indeed. in school of course i had to forget such follies at once; for among sister margaret's sixteen scholars i was far below most of them, not, indeed in stature, for i was well-grown for my years, but in age and learning and this i was to discover before the first hour was past. fifteen of us were of the great city families, and this day, being the first day of the school-term, we were all neatly clad in fine woollen stuffs of florence or of flanders make, and colored knitted hose. we all had fine lace ruffs round the cuffs of our tight sleeves and the square cut fronts of our bodices; each little maid wore a silken ribbon to tie her plaits, and almost all had gold rings in her ears and a gold pin at her breast or in her girdle. only one was in a simple garb, unlike the others, and she, notwithstanding her weed was clean and fitting, was arrayed in poor, grey home spun. as i looked on her i could not but mind me of cinderella; and when i looked in her face, and then at her feet to see whether they were as neat and as little as in the tale, i saw that she had small ankles and sweet little shoes; and as for her face, i deemed i had never seen one so lovely and at the same time so strange to me. yea, she seemed to have come from another world than this that i and the others lived in; for we were light or brown haired, with blue or grey eyes, and healthy red and white faces; while cinderella had a low forehead and with big dark eyes strange, long, fine silky lashes; and heavy plaits of black hair hung down her back. ursula tetzel was accounted by the lads the comeliest maiden of us all; and i knew full well that the flower she wore in her bodice had been given to her by my brother herdegen early that morning, because he had chosen her for his "lady," and said she was the fairest; but as i looked at her beside this stranger i deemed that she was of poorer stuff. moreover cinderella was a stranger to me, and all the others i knew well, but i had to take patience for a whole hour ere i could ask who this fair cinderella was, for sister margaret kept her eye on us, and so long as i was taught by her, no one at any time made so bold as to speak during lessons or venture on any pastime. at last, in a few minutes for rest, i asked ursula tetzel, who had come to the convent school for a year past. she put out her red nether-lip with a look of scorn and said the new scholar had been thrust among us but did not belong to the like of us. sister margaret, though of a noble house herself, had forgot what was due to us and our families, and had taken in this grey bat out of pity. her father was a simple clerk in the chancery office and was accountant to the convent for some small wage. his name was veit spiesz, and she had heard her father say that the scribe was the son of a simple lute-player and could hardly earn enough to live. he had formerly served in a merchant's house at venice. there he had wed an italian woman, and all his children, which were many, had, like her, hair and eyes as black as the devil. for the sake of a "god repay thee!" this maid, named ann, had been brought to mix with us daughters of noble houses. "but we will harry her out," said ursula, "you will see!" this shocked me sorely, and i said that would be cruel and i would have no part in such a matter; but ursula laughed and said i was yet but a green thing, and turned away to the window-shelf where all the new-comers had laid out their sweetmeats at the behest of the eldest or first of the class; for, by old custom, all the sweetmeats brought by the novices on the first day were in common. all the party crowded round the heap of sweetmeats, which waxed greater and greater, and i was standing among the others when i saw that the scribe's daughter ann, cinderella, was standing lonely and hanging her head by the tiled stove at the end of the room. i forthwith hastened to her, pressed the little packet which mistress grosz had given me into her hand--for i had it still hidden in my poke--and, whispered to her: "i had two of them, little ann; make haste and pour them on the heap." she gave me a questioning look with her great eyes, and when she saw that i meant it truly she nodded, and there was something in her tearful look which i never can forget; and i mind, too, that when i passed the little packet into her hand it seemed that i, and not she, had received the favor. she gave the sweetmeats she had taken from me to the eldest, and spoke not a word, and did not seem to mark that they all mocked at the smallness of the packet. but soon enough their scorn was turned to glee and praises; for out of cinderella's parcel such fine sweetmeats fell on to the heap as never another one had brought with her, and among them was a little phial of attar of roses from the levant. at first ann had cast an anxious look at me, then she seemed as though she cared not; but when the oil of roses came to light she took it firmly in her hand to give to me. but ursula cried out: "nay. whatsoever the new-comers bring is for all to share in common!" notwithstanding, ann laid her hand on mine, which already held the phial, and said boldly: "i give this to margery, and i renounce all the rest." and there was not one to say her nay, or hinder her; and when she refused to eat with them, each one strove to press upon her so much as fell to her share. when sister margaret came back into the room she looked to find us in good order and holding our peace; and while we awaited her ann whispered to me, as though to put herself right in my eyes: "i had a packet of sweetmeats; but there are four little ones at home." cousin maud was waiting at the convent gate to take me home. as i was setting forth at good speed, hand in hand with my new friend, she looked at the little maid's plain garb from top to toe, and not kindly. and she made me leave hold, but yet as though it were by chance, for she came between us to put my hood straight. then she busied herself with my neckkerchief and whispered in my ear: "who is that?" so i replied: "little ann;" and when she went on to ask who her father might be, i told her she was a scrivener's daughter, and was about to speak of her with hearty good will, when my cousin stopped me by saying to ann: "god save you child; margery and i must hurry." and she strove to get me on and away; but i struggled to be free from her, and cried out with the wilful pride which at that time i was wont to show when i thought folks would hinder that which seemed good and right in my eyes: "little ann shall come with us." but the little maid had her pride likewise, and said firmly: "be dutiful, margery; i can go alone." at this cousin maud looked at her more closely, and thereupon her eyes had the soft light of good will which i loved so well, and she herself began to question ann about her kinsfolk. the little maid answered readily but modestly, and when my cousin understood that her father was a certain writer in the chancery of whom she had heard a good report, she was softer and more gentle, so that when i took hold again of ann's little hand she let it pass, and presently, at parting, kissed her on the brow and bid her carry a greeting to her worthy father. now, when i was alone with cousin maud and gave her to understand that i loved the scribe's little daughter and wished for no dearer friend, she answered gravely; "little maids can hold no conversation with any but those whose mothers meet in each other's houses. take patience till i can speak to sister margaret." so when my cousin went out in the afternoon i tarried in the most anxious expectation; but she came home with famous good tidings, and thenceforward ann was a friend to whom i clung almost as closely as to my brothers. and which of us was the chief gainer it would be hard to say, for whereas i found in her a trusted companion to whom i might impart every thing which was scarce worthy of my brothers' or my cousin's ears, and foremost of all things my childish good-will for my cousin gotz and love of the forest, to her the place in my heart and in our house were as a haven of peace when she craved rest after the heavy duties which, for all she was so young, she had already taken upon herself. chapter iii. true it is that the class i learnt in at the convent was under the strictest rule, and that my teacher was a carthusian nun; and yet i take pleasure in calling to mind the years when my spirit enjoyed the benefit of schooling with friendly companions and by the side of my best friend. nay, even in the midst of the silent dwelling of the speechless sisters, right merry laughter might be heard during the hours of rest, and in spite of the thick walls of the class-room it reached the nuns' ears. albeit at first i was stricken with awe, and shy in their presence, i soon became familiar with their strange manner of life, and there was many an one whom i learnt truly to love: with some, too, we could talk and jest right merrily, for they, to be sure, had good ears, and we, were not slow in learning the language of their eyes and fingers. as concerning the rule of silence no one, to my knowledge, ever broke it in the presence of us little ones, save only sister renata, and she was dismissed from the convent; yet, as i waxed older, i could see that the nuns were as fain to hear any tidings of the outer life that might find a way into the cloister as though there was nothing they held more dear than the world which they had withdrawn from by their own free choice. for my part, i have ever been, and remain to the end, one of those least fitted for the carthusian habit, notwithstanding that sister margaret would paint the beatitudes and the purifying power of her order in fair and tempting colors. in the hours given up to sacred teaching, when she would shed out upon us the overflowing wealth and abundant grace of her loving spirit--insomuch that she won not less than four souls of our small number to the sisterhood--she was wont and glad to speak of this matter, and would say that there was a heavenly spirit living and moving in every human breast. that it told us, with the clear and holy voice of angels, what was divine and true, but that the noise of the world and our own vain imaginings sounded louder and would not suffer us to hear. but that they who took upon them the carthusian rule and hearkened to it speechless, in a silent home, lending no ear to distant outer voices, but only to those within, would ere long learn to mark the heavenly voice with the inward ear and know its warning. that voice would declare to them the glory and the will of the most high god, and reveal the things that are hidden in such wise as that even here below he should take part in the joys of paradise. but, for all that i never was a carthusian nun, and that my tongue was ever apt to run too freely, i conceive that i have found the heavenly spirit in the depths of my own soul and heard its voice; but in truth this has befallen me most clearly, and with most joy, when my heart has been most filled with that worldly love which the carthusian sisters shut out with a hundred doors. and again, when i have been moved by that love towards my neighbor which is called charity, and wearied myself out for him, sparing nothing that was my own, i have felt those divine emotions plainly enough in my breast. the sister bid us to question her at all times without fear, and i was ever the foremost of us all to plague her with communings. of a certainty she could not at all times satisfy my soul, which thirsted for knowledge, though she never failed to calm it; for i stood firm in the faith, and all she could tell me of god's revelation to man i accepted gladly, without doubt or cavil. she had taught us that faith and knowledge are things apart, and i felt that there could be no more peace for my soul if i suffered knowledge to meddle with faith. led by her, i saw the saviour as love incarnate; and that the love which he brought into the world was still and ever a living thing working after his will, i strove to confess with my thinking mind. but i beheld even the archbishops and bishops go forth to battle, and shed the blood of their fellow men with vengeful rage; i saw pope excommunicate pope--for the great schism only came to an end while i was yet at school; peaceful cities in their sore need bound themselves by treaties, under our eyes, for defence against christian knights and lords. the robber bands of the great nobles plundered merchants on the emperor's highway, though they were of the same creed, while the citizens strove to seize the strongholds of the knights. we heard of many more letters of defiance than of peacemaking and friendship. even the burgesses of our good christian town--could not the love taught by the redeemer prevail even among them? and as with the great so with the simple; for was it love alone that reigned among us maidens in a christian school? nay, verily; for never shall i forget how that ursula tetzel, and in fellowship with her a good half of the others, pursued my sweet, sage ann, the most diligent and best of us all, to drive her out of our midst; but in vain, thanks to sister margaret's upright justice. nay, the shrewish plotters were fain at last to see the scrivener's daughter uplifted to be our head, and this compelled them to bend their pride before her. all this and much more i would say to the good sister; nay, and i made so bold as to ask her whether christ's behest that we should love our enemy were not too high for attainment by the spirit of man. this made her grave and thoughtful; yet she found no lack of comforting words, and said that the lord had only showed the way and the end. that men had turned sadly from both; but that many a stream wandered through divers windings from the path to its goal, the sea, before it reached it; and that mankind was wondrous like the stream, for, albeit they even now rend each other in bloody fights, the day will come when foe shall offer to foe the palm of peace, and when there shall be but one fold on earth and one shepherd. but my anxious questioning, albeit i was but a child, had without doubt troubled her pure and truthful spirit. it was in passion week, of the fifth year of my school-life--and ever through those years she had become more bent and her voice had sunk lower, so that many a time we found it hard to hear her--that it fell that she could no longer quit her cell; and she sent me a bidding to go to her bedside, and with me only two of us all: to wit my ann, and elsa ebner, a right good child and a diligent bee in her work. and it befell that as sister margaret on her deathbed bid us farewell for ever, with many a god speed and much good council for the rest likewise, her heart waxed soft and she went on to speak of the love each christian soul oweth to his neighbor and eke to his enemy. she fixed her eye in especial on me, and confessed with her pale lips that she herself had ofttimes found it hard to love evil-minded adversaries and those whose ways had been contrary to hers, as the law of the saviour bid her. to those young ones among us who had made their minds up to take the veil she had, ere this, more especially shown what was needful; for their way lay plain before them, to walk as followers of christ how bitter soever it might be to their human nature; but we were bound to live in the world, and she could but counsel us to flee from hate as the soul's worst foe and the most cunning of all the devils. but an if it should befall that our heart could not be subdued after a brave struggle to love such or such an one, then ought we to strive at least to respect all that was good and praiseworthy in him, inasmuch as we should ever find something worthy of honor even in the most froward and least pleasing to ourselves. and these words i have ever kept in mind, and many times have they given me pause, when the hot blood of the schoppers has bid me stoop and pick up a stone to fling at my neighbor. no longer than three days after she had thus bidden us to her side, sister margaret entered into her rest; she had been our strait but gentle teacher, and her learning was as far above that of most women of her time as the heavens are high; and as her mortal body lay, no longer bent, but at full length in the coffin, the saintly lady, who before she took the vows had been a countess of lupfen, belonged, meseemed, to a race taller than ours by a head. a calm, queenlike dignity was on her noble thin face; and, this corpse being the first, as it fell, that i had ever looked on, it so worked on my mind that death, of which i had heretofore been in terror, took the image in my young soul of a great master to whom we must indeed bow, but who is not our foe. i never could earn such praise as ann, who was by good right at our head; notwithstanding i ever stood high. and the vouchers i carried home were enough to content cousin maud, for her great wish that her fosterchildren should out-do others was amply fulfilled by herdegen, the eldest. he was indeed filled with sleeping learning, as it were, and i often conceived that he needed only fitting instruction and a fair start to wake it up. for even he did not attain his learning without pains, and they who deem that it flew into his mouth agape are sorely mistaken. many a time have i sat by his side while he pored over his books, and i could see how he set to work in right earnest when once he had cast away sports and pastime. thus with three mighty blows he would smite the nail home, which a weaker hand could not do with twenty. for whole weeks he might be idle and about divers matters which had no concern with schooling; and then, of a sudden, set to work; and it would so wholly possess his soul that he would not have seen a stone drop close at his feet. my second brother, kunz, was not at all on this wise. not that he was soft-witted; far from it. his head was as clear as ever another's for all matters of daily life; but he found it hard to learn scholarship, and what herdegen could master in one hour, it took him a whole livelong day to get. notwithstanding he was not one of the dunces, for he strove hard with all diligence, and rather would he have lost a night's sleep than have left what he deemed a duty only half done. thus there were sore half-hours for him in school-time; but he was not therefor to be pitied, for he had a right merry soul and was easily content, and loved many things. good temper and a high spirit looked out of his great blue eyes; aye, and when he had played some prank which was like to bring him into trouble he had a look in his eyes--a look that might have melted a stone to pity, much more good cousin maud. but this did not altogether profit him, for after that herdegen had discovered one day how easily kunz got off chastisement he would pray him to take upon himself many a misdeed which the elder had done; and kunz, who was soft-hearted, was fain rather to suffer the penalty than to see it laid on his well-beloved brother. add to this that kunz was a wellfavored, slender youth; but as compared with herdegen's splendid looks and stalwart frame he looked no more than common. for this cause he had no ill-wishers while our eldest's uncommon beauty in all respects, and his hasty temper, ever ready to boil over for good or evil, brought upon him much ill-will and misliking. when cousin maud beheld how little good kunz got out of his learning, in spite of his zeal, she was minded to get him a private governor to teach him; and this she did by the advice of a learned doctor of church-law, albrecht fleischmann, the vicar and provost of saint sebald's and member of the imperial council, because we schoppers were of the parish of saint sebald's, to which church albrecht and friedrich schopper, god rest their souls, had attached a rich prebendary endowment. his reverence the prebendary fleischmann, having attended the council at costnitz, whither he was sent by the town elders with divers errands to the emperor sigismund, who was engaged in a disputation with john huss the bohemian schismatic, brought to my cousin's knowledge a governor whose name was peter pihringer, a native of nuremberg. he it was who brought the greek tongue, which was not yet taught in the latin schools of our city, not in our house alone, but likewise into others; he was not indeed at all like the high-souled men and heroes of whom his plutarch wrote; nay, he was a right pitiable little man, who had learnt nothing of life, though all the more out of books. he had journeyed long in italy, from one great humanistic doctor to another, and while he had sat at their feet, feeding his soul with learning, his money had melted away in his hands--all that he had inherited from his father, a worthy tavernkeeper and master baker. much of his substance he had lent to false friends never to see it more, and it would scarce be believed how many times knavish rogues had beguiled this learned man of his goods. at length he came home to nuremberg, a needy traveller, entering the city by the same gate as that by which huss had that same day departed, having tarried in nuremberg on his way to costnitz and won over divers of our learned scholars to his doctrine. now, after magister peter had written a very learned homily against the said hans huss, full of much greek-of which, indeed, it was reported that it had brought a smile to the dauntless bohemian's lips in the midst of his sorrow--he found a patron in doctor fleischmann, who was well pleased with this tractate, and he thenceforth made a living by teaching divers matters. but he sped but ill, dwelling alone, inasmuch as he would forget to eat and drink and mislay or lose his hardly won wage. once the town watch had to see him home because, instead of a book, he was carrying a ham which a gossip had given him; and another day he was seen speeding down the streets with his nightcap on, to the great mirth of the lads and lasses. notwithstanding he showed himself no whit unworthy of the high praise wherewith his reverence the prebendary had commended him, inasmuch as he was not only a right learned, but likewise a faithful and longsuffering teacher. but his wisdom profited herdegen and ann and me rather than kunz, though it was for his sake that he had come to us; and as, touching this strange man's person, my cousin told me later that when she saw him for the first time she took such a horror of his wretched looks that she was ready to bid him depart and desire the reverend doctor to send us another governor. but out of pity she would nevertheless give him a trial, and considering that i should ere long be fully grown, and that a young maid's heart is a strange thing, she deemed that a younger teacher might lead it into peril. at the time when master pihringer came to dwell with us, herdegen was already high enough to pass into the upper school, for he was first in his 'ordo'; but our guardian, the old knight hans im hoff, of whom i shall have much to tell, held that he was yet too young for the risks of a free scholar's life in a high school away from home, and he kept him two years more in nuremberg at the school of the brethren of the holy ghost, albeit the teaching there was not of the best. at any rate master pihringer avowed that in all matters of learning we were out of all measure behind the italians; and how rough and barbarous was the latin spoken by the reverend fathers and taught by them in the schools, i myself had later the means of judging. their way of imparting that tongue was in truth a strange thing; for to fix the quantity of the syllables in the learners' mind, they were made to sing verses in chorus, while one of them, on whose head father hieronymus would set a paper cap to mark his office, beat the measure with a wooden sword; but what pranks of mischief the unruly rout would be playing all the time kunz could describe better than i can. the great and famous works of the roman chroniclers and poets, which our master had come to know well in italy--having besides fine copies of them--were never heard of in the fathers' school, by reason, that those writers had all been mere blind heathen; but, verily, the common school catechisms which were given to the lads for their instruction, contained such foolish and ill-conceived matters, that any sage heathen would have been ashamed of them. the highest exercise consisted of disputations on all manner of subtle and captious questions, and the latin verses which the scholars hammered out under the rule of father jodocus were so vile as to rouse magister peter to great and righteous wrath. each morning, before the day's tasks began, the fine old hymn salve regina was chanted, and this was much better done in the brothers' school than in ever another, for those monks gave especial heed to the practice of good music. my herdegen profited much thereby, and he was the foremost of all the singing scholars. he likewise gladly and of his own free will took part in the exercises of the alumni, of whom twelve, called the pueri, had to sing at holy mass, and at burials and festivals, as well as in the streets before the houses of the great city families and other worthy citizens. the money they thus earned served to help maintain the poorer scholars, and to be sure, my brother was ready to forego his share; nay, and a great part of his own pocket-money went to those twelve, for among them were comrades he truly loved. there was something lordly in my elder brother, and his fellows were ever subject to his will. even at the shooting matches in sport he was ever chosen captain, and the singing pueri soon would do his every behest. cousin maud would give them free commons on many a sunday and holy-day, and when they had well filled their hungry young crops at our table for the coming week of lean fare, they went out with us into the garden, and it presently rang with mirthful songs, herdegen beating the measure, while we young maids joined in with a will. for the most part we three: ann, elsa ebner, and i--were the only maids with the lads, but ursula tetzel was sometimes with us, for she was ever fain to be where herdegen was. and he had been diligent enough in waiting upon her ere ever i went to school. there was a giving and taking of flowers and nosegays, for he had chosen her for his lady, and she called him her knight; and if i saw him with a red knot on his cap i knew right well it was to wear her color; and i liked all this child'splay myself right well, inasmuch as i likewise had my chosen color: green, as pertaining to my cousin in the forest. but when i went to the convent-school all this was at an end, and i had no choice but to forego my childish love matters, not only for my tasks' sake, but forasmuch as i discerned that gotz had a graver love matter on hand, and that such an one as moved his parents to great sorrow. the wench to whom he plighted his love was the daughter of a common craftsman, pernhart the coppersmith, and when this came to my ears it angered me greatly; nay, and cost me bitter tears, as i told it to ann. but ere long we were playing with our dollies again right happily. i took this matter to heart nevertheless, more than many another of my years might have done; and when we went again to the forest lodge and i missed gotz from his place, and once, as it fell, heard my aunt lamenting to cousin maud bitterly indeed of the sorrows brought upon her by her only son--for he was fully bent on taking the working wench to wife in holy wedlock--in my heart i took my aunt's part. and i deemed it a shameful and grievous thing that so fine a young gentleman could abase himself to bring heaviness on the best of parents for the sake of a lowborn maid. after this, one sunday, it fell by chance that i went to mass with ann to the church of st. laurence, instead of st. sebald's to which we belonged. having said my prayer, looking about me i beheld gotz, and saw how, as he leaned against a pillar, he held his gaze fixed on one certain spot. my eyes followed his, and at once i saw whither they were drawn, for i saw a young maid of the citizen class in goodly, nay--in rich array, and she was herself of such rare and wonderful beauty that i myself could not take my eyes off her. and i remembered that i had met the wench erewhile on the feast-day of st. john, and that uncle christian pfinzing, my worshipful godfather, had pointed her out to cousin maud, and had said that she was the fairest maid in nuremberg whom they called, and rightly, fair gertrude. now the longer i gazed at her the fairer i deemed her, and when ann discovered to me, what i had at once divined, that this sweet maid was the daughter of pernhart the coppersmith, my child's heart was glad, for if my cousin was without dispute the finest figure of a man in the whole assembly fair gertrude was the sweetest maid, i thought, in the whole wide world. if it had been possible that she could be of yet greater beauty it would but have added to my joy. and henceforth i would go as often as i might to st. laurence's, and past the coppersmith's house to behold fair gertrude; and my heart beat high with gladness when she one day saw me pass and graciously bowed to my silent greeting, and looked in my face with friendly inquiry. after this when gotz came to our house i welcomed him gladly as heretofore; and one day, when i made bold to whisper in his ear that i had seen his fair gertrude, and for certain no saint in heaven could have a sweeter face than hers, he thanked me with a bright look and it was from the bottom of his soul that he said: "if you could but know her faithful heart of gold!" for all this gotz was dearer to me than of old, and it uplifted me in my own conceit that he should put such trust in a foolish young thing as i was. but in later days it made me sad to see his frank and noble face grow ever more sorrowful, nay, and full of gloom; and i knew full well what pained him, for a child can often see much more than its elders deem. matters had come to a sharp quarrel betwixt the son and the parents, and i knew my cousin well, and his iron will which was a by-word with us. and my aunt in the forest was of the same temper; albeit her body was sickly, she was one of those women who will not bear to be withstood, and my heart hung heavy with fear when i conceived of the outcome of this matter. hence it was a boon indeed to me that i had my ann for a friend, and could pour out to her all that filled my young soul with fears. how our cheeks would burn when many a time we spoke of the love which was the bond between gotz and his fair gertrude. to us, indeed, it was as yet a mystery, but that it was sweet and full of joy we deemed a certainty. we would have been fain to cry out to the emperor and the world to take arms against the ruthless parents who were minded to tread so holy a blossom in the dust; but since this was not in our power we had dreams of essaying to touch the heart of my forest aunt, for she had but that one son and no daughter to make her glad, and i had ever been her favorite. thus passed many weeks, and one morning, when i came forth from school, i found gotz with cousin maud who had been speaking with him, and her eyes were wet with tears; and i heard him cry out: "it is in my mother's power to drive me to misery and ruin; but no power in heaven or on earth can drive me to break the oath and forswear the faith i have sworn!" and his cheeks were red, and i had never seen him look so great and tall. then, when he saw me, he held out both hands to me in his frank, loving way, and i took them with all my heart. at this he looked into my eyes which were full of tears, and he drew me hastily to him and kissed me on my brow for the first time in all his life, with strange passion; and without another word he ran out of the house-door into the street. my cousin gazed after him, shaking her head sadly and wiping her eyes; but when i asked her what was wrong with my cousin she would give me no tidings of the matter. the next day we should have gone out to the forest, but we remained at home; aunt jacoba would see no one. her son had turned his back on his parents' dwelling, and had gone out as a stranger among strangers. and this was the first sore grief sent by heaven on my young heart. chapter iv. many of the fairest memories of my childhood are linked with the house where ann's parents dwelt. it was indeed but a simple home and not to be named with ours--the schopperhof--for greatness or for riches; but it was a snug nest, and in divers ways so unlike ever another that it was full of pleasures for a child. master spiesz, ann's father, had been bidden from venice, where he had been in the service of the mendel's merchant house, to become head clerk in nuremberg, first in the chamber of taxes, and then in the chancery, a respectable post of much trust. his father was, as ursula tetzel had said in the school, a luteplayer; but he had long been held the head and chief of teachers of the noble art of music, and was so greatly respected by the clergy and laity that he was made master and leader of the church choir, and even in the houses of the city nobles his teaching of the lute and of singing was deemed the best. he was a right well-disposed and cheerful old man, of a rare good heart and temper, and of wondrous good devices. when the worshipful town council bid his son veit spiesz come back to nuremberg, the old man must need fit up a proper house for him, since he himself was content with a small chamber, and the scribe was by this time married to the fair giovanna, the daughter of one of the sensali or brokers of the german fondaco, and must have a home and hearth of his own. [sensali--agents who conducted all matters of business between the german and venetian merchants. not even the smallest affair was settled without their intervention, on account of the duties demanded by the republic. the fondaco was the name of the great exchange established by the republic itself for the german trade.] the musician, who had as a student dwelt in venice, hit on the fancy that he would give his daughter-in-law a home in nuremberg like her father's house, which stood on one of the canals in venice; so he found a house with windows looking to the river, and which he therefore deemed fit to ease her homesickness. and verily the venetian lady was pleased with the placing of her house, and yet more with the old man's loving care for her; although the house was over tall, and so narrow that there were but two windows on each floor. thus there was no manner of going to and fro in the spiesz's house, but only up and down. notwithstanding, the venetian lady loved it, and i have heard her say that there was no spot so sweet in all nuremberg as the window seat on the second story of her house. there stood her spinning-wheel and sewing-box; and a bright venice mirror, which, in jest, she would call "dame inquisitive," showed her all that passed on the river and the fleisch-brucke, for her house was not far from those which stood facing the franciscan friars. there she ruled in peace and good order, in love and all sweetness, and her children throve even as the flowers did under her hand: roses, auriculas, pinks and pansies; and whosoever went past the house in a boat could hear mirth within and the voice of song. for the spiesz children had a fine ear for music, both from their grandsire and their mother, and sweet, clear, bell-like voices. my ann was the queen of them all, and her nightingale's throat drew even herdegen to her with great power. only one of the scribe's children, little mario, was shut out from the world of sound, for he was a deaf-mute born; and when ann tarried under our roof, rarely indeed and for but a short while, her stay was brief for his sake; for she tended him with such care and love as though she had been his own mother. albeit she thereby was put to much pains, these were as nothing to the heartfelt joys which the love and good speed of this child brought her; for notwithstanding he was thus born to sorrow, by his sister's faithful care he grew a happy and thankful creature. ofttimes my cousin maud was witness to her teaching of her little brother, and all ann did for the child seemed to her so pious and so wonderful, that it broke down the last bar that stood in the way of our close fellowship. and ann's well-favored mother likewise won my cousin's good graces, albeit she was swift to mark that the italian lady could fall in but ill with german ways, and in especial with those of nuremberg, and was ever ready to let ann bear the burthen of the household. all our closest friends, and foremost of these my worshipful godfather uncle christian pfinzing, ere long truly loved my little ann; and of all our fellows i knew of only one who was ill-disposed towards her, and that was ursula tetzel, who marked, with ill-cloaked wrath, that my brother herdegen cared less and less for her, and did ann many a little courtesy wherewith he had formerly favored her. she could not dissemble her anger, and when my eldest brother waited on ann on her name day with the 'pueri' to give her a 'serenata' on the water, whereas, a year agone, he had done ursula the like honor, she fell upon my friend in our garden with such fierce and cruel words that my cousin had to come betwixt them, and then to temper my great wrath by saying that ursula was a motherless child, whose hasty ways had never been bridled by a loving hand. as i mind me now of those days i do so with heartfelt thankfulness and joy. to be sure it but ill-pleased our grand-uncle and guardian, the knight im hoff, that cousin maud should suffer me, the daughter of a noble house, to mix with the low born race of a simple scrivener; but in sooth ann was more like by far to get harm in our house, among my brethren and their fellows, than i in the peaceful home by the river, where none but seemly speech was ever heard and sweet singing, nor ever seen but labor and good order and content. right glad was i to tarry there; but yet how good it was when ann got leave to come to us for the whole of sunday from noon till eventide; when we would first sit and chatter and play alone together, and talk over all we had done in school; thereafter we had my brothers with us, and would go out to take the air under the care of my cousin or of magister peter, or abide at home to sing or have merry pastime. after the ave maria, the old organist, adam heyden, ann's grand uncle, would come to seek her, and many sweet memories dwell in my mind of that worthy and gifted man, which i might set down were it not that i am ann's debtor for so many things that made my childhood happy. it was she, for a certainty, who first taught me truly to play; for whereas my dolls, and men-at-arms and shop games, albeit they were small, were in all points like the true great ones, she had but a staff of wood wrapped round with a kerchief which she rocked in her arms for a babe; and when she played a shop game with the little ones, she marked stones and leaves to be their wares and their money, and so found far greater pastime than we when we played with figs and almonds and cloves out of little wooden chests and linen-cloth sacks, and weighed them with brass weights on little scales with a tongue and string. it was she who brought imagination to bear on my pastimes, and many a time has she borne my fancy far enough from the pegnitz, over seas and rivers to groves of palm and golden fairy lands. our fellowship with my brethren was grateful to her as it was to me; but meseems it was a different thing in those early years from what it was in later days. while i write a certain summer day from that long past time comes back to my mind strangely clear. we had played long enough in our chamber, and we found it too hot in the loft under the roof, where we had climbed on to the beams, which were great, so we went down into the garden. herdegen had quitted us in haste after noon, and we found none but kunz, who was shaping arrows for his cross-bow. but he ere long threw away his knife and came to be with us, and as he was well-disposed to ann as being my friend, he did his best to make himself pleasing, or at least noteworthy in her sight. he stood on his head and then climbed to the top of the tallest fruit-tree and flung down pears, but they smote her head so that she cried out; then he turned a wheel on his hands and feet, and a little more and his shoe would hit her in the face; and when he marked that he was but troubling us, he went away sorrowful, but only to hide behind a bush, and as we went past, to rush out on a sudden and put us in fear by wild shouting. my eldest brother well-nigh affrighted us more when he presently joined us, for his hair was all unkempt and his looks wild. he was now of an age when men-children deem maids to be weak and unfit for true sport, but nevertheless strive their utmost to be marked and chosen by them. hence ursula's good graces, which she had shown right openly, had for a long while greatly pleased him, but by this time he was weary of her and began to conceive that good little ann, with her nightingale's voice, was more to his liking. after hastily greeting us, he forthwith made us privy to an evil matter. one of his fellowship, laurence abenberger, the son of an apothecary, who was diligent in school, and of a wondrous pious spirit, gave up all his spare time to all manner of magic arts, and albeit he was but seventeen years of age, he had already cast nativities for many folks and for us maids, and had told us of divers ill-omens for the future. this abenberger, a little fellow of no note, had found in some ancient papers a recipe for discovering treasure, and had told the secret to herdegen and some other few. to begin, they went at his bidding to the graveyard with him, and there, at the full moon, they poured hot lead into the left eye-hole of a skull and made it into arrow-heads. yesternight they had journeyed forth as far as sinterspuhel, and there, at midnight, had stood at the cross-roads and shot with these same arrow-heads to the four quarters, to the end that they might dig for treasure wheresoever the shafts might fall. but they found no treasure, but a newly-buried body, and on this had taken to their heels in all haste. herdegen only had tarried behind with abenberger, and when he saw that there were deep wounds on the head of the dead man his intent was to carry the tidings to the justices in council; nevertheless he would delay a while, because abenberger had besought him to keep silence and not to bring him to an evil end. but as he had gone past the school of arms he had learnt that an apprentice was missing, and that it was feared lest he had been waylaid by pillagers, or had fallen into evil hands; so he now deemed it his plain duty to keep no longer silence concerning the finding of the body, and desired to be advised by me and ann. while i, for my part, shortly and clearly declared that information must at once be laid before his worship the mayor, a strange trembling fell on ann, and notwithstanding she could not say me nay, she was in such fear that grave mischief might overtake herdegen by reason of his thoughtless deed, that tears ran in streams down her cheeks, and it cost me great pains or ever i could comfort her, so brave and reasonable as she commonly was. but herdegen was greatly pleased by her too great terrors; and albeit he laughed at her, he called her his faithful, fearful little hare, and stuck the pink he wore in his jerkin into her hair. at this she was soon herself again; she counselled him forthwith to do that it was his duty to do; and when thereafter the authorities had made inquisition, it came to light that our lads had in truth come upon the body of the slain apprentice. and though herdegen did his best to keep silence as touching abenberger's evildoings, they nevertheless came out through other ways, and the poor wight was dismissed from the school. by the end of two years after this, matters had changed in our household. the twelve 'pueri' had been our guests at dinner, and were in the garden singing merry rounds well known to us, and i joined in, with ann and ursula tetzel. now, while herdegen beat the time, his ear was intent on ann's singing, as though there were revelation on her lips; and his wellbeloved companion, heinrich trardorf, who erewhile had, with due modesty, preferred me, margery, seemed likewise well affected to her singing; and when we ceased he fell into eager talk with her, for he had bewailed to her that, albeit he loved me well, as being the son of simple folk he might never lift up his eyes so high. herdegen's eyes rested on the twain with some little wrath; then he hastily got up! he snatched the last of cousin maud's precious roses from her favorite bush and gave them to ursula, and then waited on her as though she were the only maid there present. but ere long her father came to fetch her, and so soon as she had departed, beaming, with her roses, herdegen hastily came to me and, without deeming ann worthy to be looked at even, bid me good even. i held his hand and called to her to come to me, to help me hinder him from departing, inasmuch as one of the pueri was about to play the lute for the rest to dance. she came forward as an honest maid should, looked up at him with her great eyes, and besought him full sweetly to tarry with us. he pointed with his hand to trardorf and answered roughly: "i care not to go halves!" and he turned to go to the gate. ann took him by the hand, and without a word of his ways with ursula, not in chiding but as in deep grief, she said: "if you depart, you do me a hurt. i have no pleasure but when you are by, and what do i care for heinrich?" this was all he needed; his eye again met hers with bright looks, and from that hour of our childhood she knew no will but his. from that hour likewise ann held off from all other lads, and when he was by it seemed as though she had no eyes nor ears save for him and me alone. to kunz she paid little heed; yet he never failed to wait on her and watch to do her service, as though she were the daughter of some great lord, and he no more than her page. ann freely owned to me that she held herdegen to be the noblest youth on earth, nor could i marvel, when i was myself of the same mind. what should i know, when i was still but fourteen and fifteen years old, of love and its dangers? i had felt such love for gotz as ann for my elder brother, and as i had then been glad that my dear cousin had won the love of so fair a maid as gertrude, i likewise believed that ann would some day be glad if herdegen should plight his troth to a fair damsel of high degree. hence i did all that in me lay to bring them together whenever it might be, and in truth this befell often enough without my aid; for not music alone was a bond between them, nor yet that herdegen and i taught her to ride on a horse, on the sandy way behind our horse-stalls --the greek lessons for which magister peter had come into the household were a plea on which they passed many an hour together. i was slow to learn that tongue; but ann's head was not less apt than my brother's, and he was eager and diligent to keep her good speed at the like mark with his own, as she was so quick to apprehend. thus both were at last forward enough to put greek into german, and then magister peter was bidden to lend them his aid. now, the change in the worthy man, after eating for four years at our table, was such that many an one would have said it was a miracle. at his first coming to us he himself said he weened he was a doomed son of ill-luck, and he scarce dared look man or woman in the face; and what a good figure he made now, notwithstanding the divers pranks played on his simplicity by my brothers and their fellows, nay, and some whiles by me. many an one before this has marked that the god amor is the best schoolmaster; and when our magister had learnt to stoop less, nay almost to hold himself straight, when as now, he wore his good new coat with wide hanging sleeves, tight-fitting hose, a well-stiffened, snow-white collar, and even a smart black feather in his beretta, when he not alone smoothed his hair but anointed it, all this, in its beginnings, was by reason of his great and true love for my ann, while she was yet but a child. my cautious cousin maud had, it is true, done the blind god of love good service; for many a time she would, with her own hand, set some matter straight which the magister had put on all askew, and on divers occasions would give him a piece of fine cloth, and with it the cost of the tailor's work, in bright new coin wrapped in colored paper. she brought him to order and to keep his hours, and when grave speech availed not she could laugh at him with friendly mockery, such as hurts no man, inasmuch as it is the outcome of a good heart. thus it was, that, by the time when herdegen was to go to the high school at erfurt, magister peter was not strangely unlike other learned men of his standing; and when it fell that he had to discourse of the great masters of learning in italy, or of the glorious greek writers, i have seen his eye light up like that of a youth. our guardian kept watch over my brothers' speed in learning. the old knight im hoff was a somewhat stern man and shy of his kind, but scarce another had such great wealth, or was so highly respected in our town. he was our grand-uncle, as old adam heyden was ann's, and two men less alike it would be hard to find. when we were bid to pay our devoir to my guardian it was seldom done but with much complaining and churlishness; whereas it was ever a festival to be suffered to go with ann to the organist's house. he dwelt in a fine lodging high up in the tower above the city, and he could look down from his windows, as god almighty looks down on the earth from the bright heavens, over nuremberg, and the fortress on the hill, the wide ring of forest which guards it on the north and east and south, the meadows and villages stretching between the woods, and the walls and turrets of our good city, and the windings of the river pegnitz. he loved to boast that he was the first to bid the sun welcome and the last to bid it goodnight; and perchance it was to the light, of which he had so goodly a share, that his spirit owed its ever gay good-cheer. he was ever ready with a jest and some little gift for us children; and, albeit these were of little money's worth, they brought us much joy. and indeed there was never another man in nuremberg who had given away so many tokens and made so many glad hearts and faces thereby as adam heyden. true, indeed, after a short but blessed wedded life he had been left a widower and childless, and had no care to save for his heirs; and yet gottfried spiesz, ann's grandfather, was in the right when he said that he had more children than ever another in nuremberg, inasmuch as that he was like a father to every lad and maid in the town. when he walked down the street all the little ones were as glad though they had met christ the lord or saint nicholas; and as they hung on to his long gown with the left hand, with the right they crammed their mouths with the apples or cakes whereof his pockets seemed never to be empty. but master adam had his weak side, and there were many to blame him for that he was over fond of good liquor. albeit he did his drinking after a manner of his own, in no unseemly wise. to wit, on certain year-days he would tarry alone in his tower, and his lamp might be seen gleaming till midnight. there he would sit alone, with his wine jar and cup, and he would drink the first and second and third in silence, to the good speed of elsa, his late departed wife. after that he began to sing in a low voice, and before each fresh cup as he raised it he cried aloud "prosit, adam!" and when it was empty: "i heartily thank you, heyden!" thus would he go on till he had drunk out divers jugs, and the tower seemed to be spinning round him. then to his bed, where he would dream of his elsa and the good old days, the folks he had loved, his youthful courtships, and all the fine and wondrous things which his lonely drinking bout had brought to his inward eye. next morning he was faithfully at his duty. common evenings, which were of no mark to him, he spent with the spiesz folks in the little house by the river, or else in the gentlemen's tavern in the frohnwage; for albeit none met there but such as belonged to the noble families of the town, and learned men, and artists of mark, adam heyden the organist was held as their equal and a right welcome guest. and now as touching our grand-uncle and guardian the knight sir sebald im hoff. many an one will understand how that my fear of him grew greater after that i one evening by mishap chanced to go into his bed chamber, and there saw a black coffin wherein he was wont to sleep each night, as it were in a bed. it was easy to see in the man himself that some deep sorrow or heavy sin gnawed at his heart, and nevertheless he was one of the stateliest old gentlemen i have met in a long life. his face seemed as though cast in metal, and was of wondrous fine mould, but deadly and unchangefully pale. his snowy hair fell in long locks over his collar of sable fur, and his short beard, cut in a point, was likewise of a silver whiteness. when he stood up he was much taller than common, and he walked with princelike dignity. for many years he had ceased to go to other folks' houses, nevertheless many others sought him out. in every family of rank, excepting in his own, the im hoff family, wherever there was a manchild or a maid growing up they were brought to him; but of them all there were but two who dare come nigh him without fear. these were my brother herdegen and ursula tetzel; and throughout my young days she was the one soul whom mine altogether shut out. notwithstanding i must for justice sake confess that she grew up to be a well-favored damsel. besides this, she was the only offspring of a rich and noble house. she went from school a year before ann and i did, and after that her father, a haughty and eke a surly man, who had long since lost his wife, her mother, prided himself on giving her such attires as might have beseemed the daughter of a count or a prince-elector. and the brocades and fine furs and costly chains and clasps she wore graced her lofty, round shape exceeding well, and she lorded it so haughtily in them that the worshipful town-council were moved to put forth an order against over much splendor in women's weed. she was, verily and indeed, the last damsel i could have wished to see brought home as mistress of the "schopperhof," and nevertheless i knew full well, before my brother went away to the high school, that our grand uncle was counting on giving her and him to each other in marriage. master tetzel likewise would point to them when they stood side by side, so high and goodly, as though they were a pair; and this old man, whose face was as grey and cold and hueless as all about his daughter was bright and gay, would demean himself with utter humbleness and homage to the lad who scarce showed the first down on his lip and chin, by reason that he looked upon him, who was his granduncle's heir, as his own sonin-law. it was, to be sure, known to many that rich old im hoff was minded to leave great endowments to the holy church, and meseemed that it was praiseworthy and wise that he should do all that in him lay to gain the prayers of the blessed virgin and the dear saints; for the evil deed which had turned him from a dashing knight into a lonely penitent might well weigh in torment on his poor soul. i will here shortly rehearse all i myself knew of that matter. in his young days my grand uncle had carried his head high indeed, and deemed so greatly of his scutcheon and his knightly forbears that be scorned all civic dignities as but a small matter. then, whereas in the middle of the past century all towns were forbid by imperial law to hold tournaments, he went to court, and had been dubbed knight by the emperor charles, and won fame and honor by many a shrewd lance-thrust. his more than common manly beauty gained him favor with the ladies, and since he preferred what was noble and knightly to all other graces he would wed no daughter of nuremberg but the penniless child of baron von frauentrift. but my grand-uncle had made an evil choice; his wife was high-tempered and filled full of conceits. when princes and great lords came into our city, they were ever ready to find lodging in the great and wealthy house of the im hoffs; but then she would suffer them to pay court to her, and grant them greater freedom than becomes the decent honor of a nuremberg citizen's hearth. once, then, when my lord the duke of bavaria lay at their house with a numerous fellowship, a fine young count, who had courted my grand uncle's wife while she was yet a maid, fanned his jealousy to a flame; and, one evening, at a late hour, while his wife was yet not come home from seeing some friends, as it fell he heard a noise and whispering of voices, beneath their lodging, in the courtyard wherein all these folks' chests and bales were bestowed. he rushed forth, beside himself; and whereas he shouted out to the courtyard and got no reply, he thrust right and left at haphazard with his naked sword among the chests whence he had heard the voices, and a pitiful cry warned him that he had struck home. then there came the wailing of a woman; and when the squires and yeomen came forth with torches and lanterns, he could see that he had slain ludwig tetzel, ursula's uncle, a young unwedded man. he had stolen into the courtyard to hold a tryst with the fair daughter of the master-weigher in the im hoffs' house of trade, and the loving pair, in their fear of the master, had not answered his call, but had crept behind the baggage. thus, by ill guidance, had my grand-uncle become a murderer, and the judges broke their staff over him; albeit, since he freely confessed the deed of death, and had done it with no evil intent, they were content to make him pay a fine in money. but some said that they likewise commanded the hangman to nail up a gallows-cord behind his house door; others, rather, that he had taken upon himself the penance of ever wearing such a cord about his neck day and night. as touching the tetzels themselves, they made no claim for blood; and for this he was so thankful to them, all his life through, that he gave them his word that he would name ursula in his testament; whereas he ever hated the im hoffs to the end, after that they, on whom he had brought so much vexation by his wilful and haughty temper, took counsel after the judgment as to whether it behooved them not to strip him of their good old name and thrust him forth from their kinship. four only, as against three, spoke in his favor, and this his haughty spirit could so ill endure that never an im hoff dared cross his threshold, though one and another often strove to win back his favor. he had little comfort from his wife in his grief, for when he was found guilty of manslaughter she quitted him to return to the emperor's court at prague, and there she died after a wild hunt which she had followed in king wenzel's train, while she was not yet past her youth. chapter v. three years were past since herdegen had first gone to the high school, and we had never seen him but for a few weeks at the end of the first year, when he was on his way from erfurt to padua. in the letters he wrote from thence there was ever a greeting for mistress anna, and often there would be a few words in greek for her and me; yet, as he knew full well that she alone could crack such nuts, he bid me to the feast only as the fox bid the stork. while he was with us he ever demeaned himself both to me and to her as a true and loving brother, when he was not at the school of arms proving to the amazement of the knights and nobles his wondrous skill in the handling of the sword, which he had got in the high school. and during this same brief while be at divers times had speech of ursula, but he showed plainly enough that he had lost all delight in her. he had found but half of what he sought at erfurt, but deemed that he was ripe to go to padua; for there, alone, he thought--and magister peter said likewise--could he find the true grist for his mill. and when he told us of what he hoped to gain at that place we could but account his judgment good, and wish him good speed and that he might come home from that famous italian school a luminary of learning. when, at his departing, i saw that ann was in no better heart than i was, but looked right doleful, i thought it was by reason of the sickness which for some while past had now and again fallen on her good father. kunz likewise had quitted school, and be could not complain that learning weighed too heavily on his light heart and merry spirit. he was now serving his apprenticeship in our grand uncle's business, and whereas the traffic was mainly with venice he was to learn the italian tongue with all diligence. our magister, who was well-skilled in it, taught him therein, and was, as heretofore, well content to be with us. cousin maud would never suffer him to depart, for it had grown to be a habit with her to care for him; albeit many an one can less easily suffer the presence of a man who needs help, than of one who is himself of use and service. master peter himself, under pretence of exercising himself in the italian tongue, would often wait upon dame giovanna. we on our part would remember the fable of the sack and the ass and laugh; while ann slipped off to her garret chamber when the magister was coming; and she could never fail to know of it, for no son of man ever smote so feebly as he with the knocker on the door plate. thus the years in which we grew from children into maidens ran past in sheer peace and gladness. cousin maud allowed us to have every pastime and delight; and if at times her face was less content, it was only by reason that i craved to wear a longer kirtle than she deemed fitting for my tender years, or that i proved myself over-rash in riding in the riding school or the open country. my close friendship with ann brought me to mark and enjoy many other and better things; and in this i differed from the maidens of some noble families, who, to this day, sit in stalls of their own in church, apart from such as have no scutcheon of arms. but indeed ann was an honored guest in many a lordly house wherein our school and playmates dwelt. in summer days we would sometimes go forth to the farm belonging to us schoppers outside the town, or else to jorg stromer our worthy cousin at the mill where paper is made; and at holy whitsuntide we would ride forth to the farm at laub, which his sister dame anna borchtlin had by inheritance of her father. nevertheless, and for all that there was to see and learn at the paper-mill, and much as i relished the good fresh butter and the black home-bread and the lard cakes with which dame borchtlin made cheer for us, my heart best loved the green forest where dwelt our uncle conrad waldstromer, father to my cousin gotz, who still was far abroad. now, since i shall have much to tell of this well-beloved kinsman and of his kith and kin, i will here take leave to make mention that all the stromers were descended from a certain knight, conrad von reichenbach, who erewhile had come from his castle of kammerstein, hard by schwabach, as far forth as nuremberg. there had he married a daughter of the waldstromers, and the children and grandchildren, issue of this marriage, were all named stromer or waldstromer. and the style wald--or wood-stromer is to be set down to the fact that this branch had, from a long past time, heretofore held the dignity of rangers of the great forest which is the pride of nuremberg to this very day. but at the end of the last century the municipality had bought the offices and dignities which were theirs by inheritance, both from waldstromer and eke from koler the second ranger; albeit the worshipful council entrusted none others than a waldstromer or a koler with the care of its woods; and in my young days our uncle conrad waldstromer was chief forester, and a right bold hunter. whensoever he crossed our threshold meseemed as though the fresh and wholesome breath of pine-woods was in the air; and when he gave me his hand it hurt mine, so firm and strong and loving withal was his grip, and that his heart was the same all men might see. his thick, red-gold hair and beard, streaked with snowy white, his light, flax-blue eyes and his green forester's garb, with high tan boots and a cap of otter fur garnished with the feather of some bird he had slain--all this gave him a strange, gladsome, and gaudy look. and as the stalwart man stepped forth with his hanger and hunting-knife at his girdle, followed by his hounds and badger-dogs, other children might have been affrighted, but to me, betimes, there was no dearer sight than this of the terrible-looking forester, who was besides cousin gotz's father. well, on the second sunday after whitsunday, when the apple blossoms were all shed, my uncle came in to town to bid me and cousin maud to the forest lodge once more; for he ever dwelt there from one springtide till the next, albeit he was under a bond to the council to keep a house in the city. i was nigh upon seventeen years old; ann was past seventeen already, and i would have expressed my joy as freely as heretofore but that somewhat lay at my heart, and that was concerning my ann. she was not as she was wont to be; she was apt to suffer pains in her head, and the blood had fled from her fresh cheeks. nay, at her worst she was all pale, and the sight of her thus cut me to the heart, so i gladly agreed when cousin maud said that the little house by the river was doing her a mischief, and the grievous care of her deaf-mute brother and the other little ones, and that she lacked fresh air. and indeed her own parents did not fail to mark it; but they lacked the means to obey the leech's orders and to give ann the good chance of a change to fresh forest air. when my uncle had given his bidding, i made so bold as to beseech him with coaxing words that he would bid her go with me. and if any should deem that it was but a light matter to ask of a good-hearted old man that he should harbor a fair young maid for a while, in a large and wealthy house, he will be mistaken, inasmuch as my uncle was wont, at all times and in all places, to have regard first to his wife's goodwill and pleasure. this lady was a behaim, of the same noble race as my mother, whom god keep; and what great pride she set on her ancient and noble blood she had plainly proven in the matter of her son's love-match. this matter had in truth no less heavily stricken his father's soul, but he had held his peace, inasmuch as he could never bring himself to play the lord over his wife; albeit he was in other matters a strict and thorough man; nay a right stern master, who ruled the host of foresters and hewers, warders and beaters, bee-keepers and woodmen who were under him with prudence and straitness. and yet my aunt jacoba was a feeble, sickly woman, who rarely went forth to drink in god's fresh air in the lordly forest, having lost the use of her feet, so that she must be borne from her couch to her bed. my uncle knew her full well, and he knew that she had a good and pitiful heart and was minded to do good to her kind; nevertheless he said his power over her would not stretch to the point of making her take a scrivener's child into her noble house, and entertaining her as an equal. thus he withstood my fondest prayers, till he granted so much as that ann should come and speak for herself or ever he should leave the house. when she had hastily greeted my cousin and me, and cousin maud had told her who my uncle was, she went up to him in her decent way, made him a curtsey, and held out her hand, no whit abashed, while her great eyes looked up at him lovingly, inasmuch as she had heard all that was good of him from me. thereupon i saw in the old forester's face that he was "on the scent" of my ann--to use his own words--so i took heart again and said: "well, little uncle?" "well," said he slowly and doubtingly. but he presently uplifted ann's chin, gazed her in the face, and said: "to be sure, to be sure! peaches get they red cheeks better where we dwell than here among stone walls." and he pulled down his belt and went on quickly, as though he weened that he might have to rue his hasty words: "margery is to be our welcome guest out in the forest; and if she should bring thee with her, child, thou'lt be welcome." nor need i here set down how gladly the bidding was received; and ann's parents were more than content to let her go. thenceforth had cousin maud, and our house maids, and beata the tailor-wife, enough on their hands; for they deemed it a pleasure to take care to outfit ann as well as me, since there were many noble guests at the forest lodge, especially about st. hubert's day, when there was ever a grand hunt. dame giovanna, ann's mother, was in truth at all times choicely clad, and she ever kept ann in more seemly and richer habit than others of her standing; yet she was greatly content with the summer holiday raiment which cousin maud had made for us. likewise, for each of us, a green riding habit, fit for the forest, was made of good florence cloth; and if ever two young maids rode out with glad and thankful hearts into the fair, sunny world, we were those maids when, on saint margaret's day in the morning--[the 13th july, old style.]--we bid adieu and, mounted on our saddles, followed balzer, the old forester, whom my uncle had sent with four men at arms on horseback to attend us, and two beasts of burthen to carry susan and the "woman's gear." as we rode forth at this early hour, across the fields, and saw the lark mount singing, we likewise lifted up our voices, and did not stop singing till we entered the wood. then in the dewy silence our minds were turned to devotion and a sabbath mood, and we spoke not of what was in our minds; only once--and it seems as i could hear her now--these simple words rose from ann's heart to her lips: "i am so thankful!" and i was thankful at that hour, with my whole heart; and as the great hills of the alps cover their heads with pure snow as they get nearer to heaven, so should every good man or woman, when in some happy hour he feels god's mercy nigh him, deck his heart with pure and joyful thanksgiving. at last we drew up on a plot shut in by tall trees, in front of a beekeeper's hut, and while we were there, refreshing on some new milk and the store cousin maud had put into our saddle bags, we heard the barking of hounds and a noise of hoofs, and ere long uncle conrad was giving us a welcome. he was right glad to let us wait upon him and fell to with a will; but he made us set forth again sooner than was our pleasure, and as we fared farther the old forest rang with many a merry jest and much laughter. to ann it seemed that my uncle was but now opening her eyes and ears to the mystery of the forest, which gotz had shown me long years ago. how many a bird's pipe did he teach her to know which till now she had never marked! and each had its special significance, for my uncle named them all by their names and described them; whereas his son could copy them so as to deceive the ear, twittering, singing, whistling and calling, each after his kind. to the end that ann and my uncle should learn to come together closely i put no word into his teaching. not till we came to the skirts of the clearing, where the forest lodge came in sight against the screen of trees, was my uncle silent; then, while he lifted me from the saddle, he asked me in a low tone if i had already warned ann of my aunt's strange demeanor. this i could tell him i had indeed done; nevertheless i saw by his face that he was not easy till he could lead ann to his wife, and had learnt that the maid had found such favor in her eyes as, in truth, nor he nor i were so bold as to hope. but with what sweet dignity did the clerk's daughter kiss the somewhat stern lady's hand--as i had bidden her, and how modestly, though with due self-respect, did she go through dame jacoba's inquisition. for my part i should have lost patience all too soon, if i had thus been questioned touching matters concerning myself alone; but ann kept calm till the end, and at the same time she spoke as openly as though the inquisitor had been her own mother. this, in truth, somewhat moved me to fear; for, albeit i likewise cling to the truth, meseemed it showed it a lack of prudence and foresight to discover so freely and frankly all that was poor or lacking in her home; inasmuch as there was much, even there, which could not be better or more seemly in the richest man's dwelling. in truth, to my knowledge there was not the smallest thing in the little house by the river of which a virtuous damsel need feel ashamed. but at night, in our bed-chamber, ann confessed to me that she had taken it as a favor of fortune that she should be allowed, at once, to lay bare to the great lady who had been so unwilling to open her doors to her, exactly what she was and to whom she belonged. "to be deemed unworthy of heed by my lady hostess," said she, "would have been hard to bear; but whereas she truly cared to question me, a simple maid, and i have nothing hid, all is clear and plain betwixt us." my aunt doubtless thought in like manner; for she was a truthful woman, and ann's honest, firm, and withal gentle way had won her heart. and yet, since she was strait in her opinions, and must deem it unseemly in me and my kinsfolk to receive a maid of lower birth as one of ourselves, she stoutly avowed that ann's worthy father, as being chief clerk in the chancery, might claim to be accounted one of the council. never, as she said to my uncle, would she have suffered a workingman's daughter to cross her threshold, whereas she had a large place, not alone at her table but in her heart, for this gentle daughter of a worthy member of the worshipful council. and such speech was good to my ears and to my uncle conrad's; but the best of all was that already, by the end of a week or two, ann seemed likely to supplant me wholly in the love my aunt had erewhile shown to me; ann thenceforth was diligent in waiting on the sick lady, and such loving duty won her more and more of my uncle's love, who found his weakly, suffering wife much on his hands, and that in the plainest sense of the words, since, whenever he might be at home, she would allow no other creature to lift her from one spot to another. now, whereas uncle conrad had taught ann to mark the divers voices of the forest, so did she open my eyes to the many virtues of my aunt, which, heretofore, i had been wont to veil from my own sight out of wrath at her hardness to my cousin gotz. ann, in her compassion and thankfulness, had truly learnt to love her, and she now led me to perceive that she was in many ways a right wise and good woman. her low, sheltered couch in the peaceful chimney-corner was, as it were, the centre of a wide net, and she herself the spider-wife who had spun it, for in truth her good counsel stretched forth over the whole range of forest, and over all her husband's rough henchmen. she knew the name of every child in the furthest warders' huts, and never did she suffer one of the forest folks to die unholpen. she was, indeed, forced to see with other eyes and give with other hands than her own, and notwithstanding this she ever gave help where it was most needed, since she chose her messengers well and lent an ear to all who sought her. she soon found work for us, making us do many a samaritan-task; and many a time have we marvelled to mark the skill with which she wove her web, and the wisdom coupled with her open-handed bounty. no one else could have found a place in the great books which she filled with her records; but to her they were so clear that the craft of the most cunning was put to shame when she looked into them. never a soul, whether master or man, said her nay in the lightest thing, to my knowledge, and this was a plea for the one fault which had hitherto set me against her. everything here was new to ann; and what could be more delightful, what could give me greater joy than to be able to show all that was noteworthy and pleasant, and to me well-known, to a well-beloved friend, and to tell her the use and end of each thing. in this two men were ever ready to help me: uncle conrad and the young baron von kalenbach, a swabian who had come to be my uncle's disciple and to learn forestry. this same young baron was a slender stripling, well-grown and not illfavored; but it seemed as though his lips were locked, and if a man was fain to hear the sound of his voice and get from him a "yea" or "nay" there was no way but by asking him a plain question. his eye, on the other hand, was full of speech, and by the time i had been no more than three weeks at the lodge it told me, as often as it might, that he was deeply in love with me; nay, he told the reverend chaplain in so many words that his first desire was that he might take me home as his wife to swabia, where he had rich estates. never would i have said him yea, albeit i liked him well; nor did i hide it from him; nay indeed, now and again i may have lent him courage, though truly with no evil intent, since i was not ill pleased with the tale his eyes told me. and i was but a young thing then, and wist not as yet that a maid who gives hope to a suitor though she has no mind to hear him, is guilty of a sin grievous enough to bring forth much sorrow and heart-ache. it was not till i had had a lesson which came upon me all too soon, that i took heed in such matters; and the time was at hand when men folks thought more about me than i deemed convenient. as i have gone so far as to put this down on paper, i, an old woman now, will put aside bashfulness and freely confess that both ann and i were at that time well-favored and good to look upon. i was of the greater height and stouter build, while she was more slender and supple; and for gentle sweetness i have never seen her like. i was rose and white, and my golden hair was no whit less fine than ursula tetzel's; but whoso would care to know what we were to look upon in our youth, let him gaze on our portraits, before which each one of you has stood many a time. but i will leave speaking of such foolish things and come now to the point. though for most days common wear was good enough at the forest lodge, we sometimes had occasion to wear our bravery, for now and again we went forth to hunt with my uncle or with the junker, on foot or on horseback, or hawking with a falcon on the wrist. there was no lack of these noble birds, and the bravest of them all, a falcon from iceland beyond seas, had been brought thence by seyfried kubbeling of brunswick. that same strange man, who was my right good friend, had ere now taught me to handle a falcon, and i could help my uncle to teach my friend the art. i went out shooting but seldom, by reason that ann loved it not ever after she had hit one of the best hounds in the pack with her arrow; and my uncle must have been well affected to her to forgive such a shot, inasmuch as the dogs were only less near his heart than his closest kin. they had to make up to him for much that he lacked, and when he stood in their midst he saw round him, yelping and barking on four legs, well nigh all that he had thought most noteworthy from his childhood up. they bore names, indeed, of no more than one or two syllables, but each had its sense. they were for the most part the beginning of some word which reminded him of a thing he cared to remember. first he had, in sport, named some of them after the metrical feet of latin verse, which had been but ill friends of his in his school days, and in his kennel there was a troch, iamb, spond and dact, whose full names were trochee, iambus, spondee and dactyl. now spond was the greatest and heaviest of the wolfhounds; anap, rightly anapaest, was a slender and swift greyhound; and whereas he found this pastime of names good sport he carried it further. thus it came to pass that the witless creatures who shared his loneliness were reminders of many pleasant things. one of a pair of fleet bloodhounds which were ever leashed together was named nich, and the other syn, in memory that he had been betrothed on the festival of saint nicodemus and wedded on saint synesius' day. a noble hound called salve, or as we should say welcome, spoke to him of the birth of his first born, and every dog in like manner had a name of some signification; thus ann took it not at all amiss that he should call a fine young setter after her name. there had long been a gred, short for margaret. nevertheless we spent much more time in seeing the sick to whom my aunt sent us on her errands, than we did in shooting or heron-hawking. she ever packed the little basket we were to carry with her own hands, and there was never a physic which she did not mingle, nor a garment she had not made choice of, nor a victual she had not judged fit for each one it was sent to. thus many a time our souls ached to see want and pain lying in darksome chambers on wretched straw, though we earned thanks and true joy when we saw that healing and ease followed in our steps. and whatever seemed to me the most praiseworthy grace in my aunt jacoba, was, that albeit she could never hear the hearty thanksgiving of those she had comforted and healed, she nevertheless, to the end of her days, ceased not from caring for the poor folks in the forest like a very mother. my ann was never made for such work, inasmuch as she could never endure to see blood or wounds; yet was it in this tending of the sick that i had reason to mark and understand how strong was the spirit of this frail, slender flower. since a certain army surgeon, by name haberlein, had departed this life, there was no leech at the forest lodge, but my aunt and the chaplain, a man of few words but well trained in good works and a right pious servant of the lord, were disciples of galen, and the leech from nuremberg came forth once a week, on each tuesday; and since the death of doctor paul rieter, of whom i have made mention, it was his successor master ulsenius. his duty it was to attend on the sick mistress, and on any other sick folks if they needed it; and then it was our part to wait on the leech, and my aunt would diligently instruct us in the right way to use healing drugs, or bandages. the first time we were bidden to a woman who gathered berries, who had been stung in the toe by an adder; and when i set to work to wash the wound, as my aunt had taught me, ann turned as white as a linen cloth. and whereas i saw that she was nigh swooning i would not have her help; but she gave her help nevertheless, though she held her breath and half turned away her face. and thus she ever did with sores; but she ever paid the penalty of the violence she did herself. as it fell master ulsenius came to the forest one day when my aunt's waiting-woman had fared forth on a pilgrimage to vierzelmheiligen, and my uncle likewise being out of the way, the leech called us to him to lend him a helping hand. then i came to know that a fall unawares with her horse had been the beginning of my aunt's long sickness. she had at that time done her backbone a mischief, and some few months later a wound had broken forth which was part of her hurt. now when all was made ready aunt jacoba begged of ann that she should hold the sore closed while master ulsenius made the linen bands wet. i remembered my friend's weakness and came close to her, to take her place unmarked; but she whispered: "nay, leave me," in a commanding voice, so that i saw full well she meant it in earnest, and withdrew without a word. and then i beheld a noble sight; for though she was pale she did as she was bidden, nor did she turn her eyes off the wound. but her bosom rose and fell fast, as if some danger threatened her, and her nostrils quivered, and i was minded to hold out my arms to save her from falling. but she stood firm till all was done, and none but i was aware of her having defied the base foe with such true valor. thenceforth she ever did me good service without shrinking; and whensoever thereafter i had some hateful duty to do which meseemed i might never bring myself to fulfil, i would remember ann holding my aunt's wound. and out of all this grew the good saying, "they who will, can"--which the children are wont to call my motto. etext editor's bookmarks: as every word came straight from her heart be cautious how they are compassionate beware lest satan find thee idle! brought imagination to bear on my pastimes comparing their own fair lot with the evil lot of others faith and knowledge are things apart flee from hate as the soul's worst foe for the sake of those eyes you forgot all else her eyes were like open windows last day we shall be called to account for every word we utter laugh at him with friendly mockery, such as hurts no man maid who gives hope to a suitor though she has no mind to hear may they avoid the rocks on which i have bruised my feet men folks thought more about me than i deemed convenient no man gains profit by any experience other than his own one of those women who will not bear to be withstood the god amor is the best schoolmaster they who will, can when men-children deem maids to be weak and unfit for true sport this ebook was produced by david widger <widger@cecomet.net> [note: there is a short list of bookmarks, or pointers, at the end of the file for those who may wish to sample the author's ideas before making an entire meal of them. d.w.] an egyptian princess, part 2. by georg ebers volume 10. chapter xiii. the waters of the nile had begun to rise again. two months had passed away since phanes' disappearance, and much had happened. the very day on which he left egypt, sappho had given birth to a girl, and had so far regained strength since then under the care of her grandmother, as to be able to join in an excursion up the nile, which croesus had suggested should take place on the festival of the goddess neith. since the departure of phanes, cambyses' behavior had become so intolerable, that bartja, with the permission of his brother, had taken sappho to live in the royal palace at memphis, in order to escape any painful collision. rhodopis, at whose house croesus and his son, bartja, darius and zopyrus were constant guests, had agreed to join the party. on the morning of the festival-day they started in a gorgeously decorated boat, from a point between thirty and forty miles below memphis, favored by a good north-wind and urged rapidly forward by a large number of rowers. a wooden roof or canopy, gilded and brightly painted, sheltered them from the sun. croesus sat by rhodopis, theopompus the milesian lay at her feet. sappho was leaning against bartja. syloson, the brother of polykrates, had made himself a comfortable resting-place next to darius, who was looking thought fully into the water. gyges and zopyrus busied themselves in making wreaths for the women, from the flowers handed them by an egyptian slave. "it seems hardly possible," said bartja, "that we can be rowing against the stream. the boat flies like a swallow." "this fresh north-wind brings us forward," answered theopompus. "and then the egyptian boatmen understand their work splendidly." "and row all the better just because we are sailing against the stream," added croesus. "resistance always brings out a man's best powers." "yes," said rhodopis, "sometimes we even make difficulties, if the river of life seems too smooth." "true," answered darius. "a noble mind can never swim with the stream. in quiet inactivity all men are equal. we must be seen fighting, to be rightly estimated." "such noble-minded champions must be very cautious, though," said rhodopis, "lest they become contentious, and quarrelsome. do you see those melons lying on the black soil yonder, like golden balls? not one would have come to perfection if the sower had been too lavish with his seed. the fruit would have been choked by too luxuriant tendrils and leaves. man is born to struggle and to work, but in this, as in everything else, he must know how to be moderate if his efforts are to succeed. the art of true wisdom is to keep within limits." "oh, if cambyses could only hear you!" exclaimed croesus. "instead of being contented with his immense conquests, and now thinking for the welfare of his subjects, he has all sorts of distant plans in his head. he wishes to conquer the entire world, and yet, since phanes left, scarcely a day has passed in which he has not been conquered himself by the div of drunkenness." "has his mother no influence over him?" asked rhodopis. "she is a noble woman." "she could not even move his resolution to marry atossa, and was forced to be present at the marriage feast." "poor atossa!" murmured sappho. "she does not pass a very happy life as queen of persia," answered croesus; "and her own naturally impetuous disposition makes it all the more difficult or her to live contentedly with this husband and mother; i am sorry to hear it said that cambyses neglects her sadly, and treats her like a child. but the marriage does not seem to have astonished the egyptians, as brothers and sisters often marry here." "in persia too," said darius, putting on an appearance of the most perfect composure, "marriages with very near relations are thought to be the best." "but to return to the king," said croesus, turning the conversation for darius' sake. "i can assure you, rhodopis, that he may really be called a noble man. his violent and hasty deeds are repented of almost as soon as committed, and the resolution to be a just and merciful ruler has never forsaken him. at supper, for instance, lately, before his mind was clouded by the influence of wine, he asked us what the persians thought of him in comparison with his father." "and what was the answer?" said rhodopis. "intaphernes got us out of the trap cleverly enough," answered zopyrus, laughing. "he exclaimed: 'we are of opinion that you deserve the preference, inasmuch as you have not only preserved intact the inheritance bequeathed you by cyrus, but have extended his dominion beyond the seas by your conquest of egypt.' this answer did not seem to please the king, however, and poor intaphernes was not a little horrified to hear him strike his fist on the table and cry, 'flatterer, miserable flatterer!' he then turned to croesus and asked his opinion. our wise friend answered at once: 'my opinion is that you have not attained to the greatness of your father; for,' added he in a pacifying tone, 'one thing is wanting to you --a son such as cyrus bequeathed us in yourself." "first-rate, first-rate," cried rhodopis clapping her hands and laughing. "an answer that would have done honor to the ready-witted odysseus himself. and how did the king take your honeyed pill?" "he was very much pleased, thanked croesus, and called him his friend." "and i," said croesus taking up the conversation, "used the favorable opportunity to dissuade him from the campaigns he has been planning against the long lived ethiopians, the ammonians and the carthaginians. of the first of these three nations we know scarcely anything but through fabulous tales; by attacking them we should lose much and gain little. the oasis of ammon is scarcely accessible to a large army, on account of the desert by which it is surrounded; besides which, it seems to me sacrilegious to make war upon a god in the hope of obtaining possession of his treasures, whether we be his worshippers or not. as to the carthaginians, facts have already justified my predictions. our fleet is manned principally by syrians and phoenicians, and they have, as might be expected, refused to go to war against their brethren. cambyses laughed at my reasons, and ended by swearing, when he was already somewhat intoxicated, that he could carry out difficult undertakings and subdue powerful nations, even without the help of bartja and phanes." "what could that allusion to you mean, my son?" asked rhodopis. "he won the battle of pelusiam," cried zopyrus, before his friend could answer. "he and no one else!" "yes," added croesus, "and you might have been more prudent, and have remembered that it is a dangerous thing to excite the jealousy of a man like cambyses. you all of you forget that his heart is sore, and that the slightest vexation pains him. he has lost the woman he really loved; his dearest friend is gone; and now you want to disparage the last thing in this world that he still cares for,--his military glory." "don't blame him," said bartja, grasping the old man's hand. "my brother has never been unjust, and is far from envying me what i must call my good fortune, for that my attack arrived just at the right time can hardly be reckoned as a merit on my part. you know he gave me this splendid sabre, a hundred thorough-bred horses, and a golden hand-mill as rewards of my bravery." croesus' words had caused sappho a little anxiety at first; but this vanished on hearing her husband speak so confidently, and by the time zopyrus had finished his wreath and placed it on rhodopis' head, all her fears were forgotten. gyges had prepared his for the young mother. it was made of snow-white water-lilies, and, when she placed it among her brown curls, she looked so wonderfully lovely in the simple ornament, that bartja could not help kissing her on the forehead, though so many witnesses were present. this little episode gave a merry turn to the conversation; every one did his best to enliven the others, refreshments of all kinds were handed round, and even darius lost his gravity for a time and joined in the jests that were passing among his friends. when the sun had set, the slaves set elegantly-carved chairs, footstools, and little tables on the open part of the deck. our cheerful party now repaired thither and beheld a sight so marvellously beautiful as to be quite beyond their expectations. the feast of neith, called in egyptian "the lampburning," was celebrated by a universal illumination, which began at the rising of the moon. the shores of the nile looked like two long lines of fire. every temple, house and but was ornamented with lamps according to the means of its possessors. the porches of the country-houses and the little towers on the larger buildings were all lighted up by brilliant flames, burning in pans of pitch and sending up clouds of smoke, in which the flags and pennons waved gently backwards and forwards. the palm-trees and sycamores were silvered by the moonlight and threw strange fantastic reflections on the red waters of the nile-red from the fiery glow of the houses on their shores. but strong and glowing as was the light of the illumination, its rays had not power to reach the middle of the giant river, where the boat was making its course, and the pleasure-party felt as if they were sailing in dark night between two brilliant days. now and then a brightly-lighted boat would come swiftly across the river and seem, as it neared the shore, to be cutting its way through a glowing stream of molten iron. lotus-blossoms, white as snow, lay on the surface of the river, rising and falling with the waves, and looking like eyes in the water. not a sound could be heard from either shore. the echoes were carried away by the north-wind, and the measured stroke of the oars and monotonous song of the rowers were the only sounds that broke the stillness of this strange night--a night robbed of its darkness. for a long time the friends gazed without speaking at the wonderful sight, which seemed to glide past them. zopyrus was the first to break the silence by saying, as he drew a long breath: "i really envy you, bartja. if things were as they should be, every one of us would have his dearest wife at his side on such a night as this." "and who forbade you to bring one of your wives?" answered the happy husband. "the other five," said the youth with a sigh. "if i had allowed oroetes' little daughter parysatis, my youngest favorite, to come out alone with me to-night, this wonderful sight would have been my last; tomorrow there would have been one pair of eyes less in the world." bartja took sappho's hand and held it fast, saying, "i fancy one wife will content me as long as i live." the young mother pressed his hand warmly again, and said, turning to zopyrus: "i don't quite trust you, my friend. it seems to me that it is not the anger of your wives you fear, so much as the commission of an offence against the customs of your country. i have been told that my poor bartja gets terribly scolded in the women's apartments for not setting eunuchs to watch over me, and for letting me share his pleasures." "he does spoil you terribly," answered zopyrus, "and our wives are beginning to quote him as an example of kindness and indulgence, whenever we try to hold the reins a little tight. indeed there will soon be a regular women's mutiny at the king's gate, and the achaemenidae who escaped the swords and arrows of the egyptians, will fall victims to sharp tongues and floods of salt tears." "oh! you most impolite persian!" said syloson laughing. "we must make you more respectful to these images of aphrodite." "you greeks! that's a good idea," answered the youth. "by mithras, our wives are quite as well off as yours. it's only the egyptian women, that are so wonderfully free." "yes, you are quite right," said rhodopis. "the inhabitants of this strange land have for thousands of years granted our weaker sex the same rights, that they demand for themselves. indeed, in many respects, they have given us the preference. for instance, by the egyptian law it is the daughters, not the sons, who are commanded to foster and provide for their aged parents, showing how well the fathers of this now humbled people understood women's nature, and how rightly they acknowledged that she far surpasses man in thoughtful solicitude and self-forgetful love. do not laugh at these worshippers of animals. i confess that i cannot understand them, but i feel true admiration for a people in the teaching of whose priests, even pythagoras, that great master in the art of knowledge, assured me lies a wisdom as mighty as the pyramids." "and your great master was right," exclaimed darius. "you know that i obtained neithotep's freedom, and, for some weeks past, have seen him and onuphis very constantly, indeed they have been teaching me. and oh, how much i have learnt already from those two old men, of which i had no idea before! how much that is sad i can forget, when i am listening to them! they are acquainted with the entire history of the heavens and the earth. they know the name of every king, and the circumstances of every important event that has occurred during the last four thousand years, the courses of the stars, the works of their own artists and sayings of their sages, during the same immense period of time. all this knowledge is recorded in huge books, which have been preserved in a palace at thebes, called the "place of healing for the soul. their laws are a fountain of pure wisdom, and a comprehensive intellect has been shown in the adaptation of all their state institutions to the needs of the country. i wish we could boast of the same regularity and order at home. the idea that lies at the root of all their knowledge is the use of numbers, the only means by which it is possible to calculate the course of the stars, to ascertain and determine the limits of all that exists, and, by the application of which in the shortening and lengthening of the strings of musical instruments, tones can be regulated. [we agree with iamblichus in supposing, that these pythagorean views were derived from the egyptian mysteries.] "numbers are the only certain things; they can neither be controlled nor perverted. every nation has its own ideas of right and wrong; every law can be rendered invalid by circumstances; but the results obtained from numbers can never be overthrown. who can dispute, for instance, that twice two make four? numbers determine the contents of every existing thing; whatever is, is equal to its contents, numbers therefore are the true being, the essence of all that is." "in the name of mithras, darius, do leave off talking in that style, unless you want to turn my brain," interrupted zopyrus. "why, to hear you, one would fancy you'd been spending your life among these old egyptian speculators and had never had a sword in your hand. what on earth have we to do with numbers?" "more than you fancy," answered rhodopis. "this theory of numbers belongs to the mysteries of the egyptian priests, and pythagoras learnt it from the very onuphis who is now teaching you, darius. if you will come to see me soon, i will show you how wonderfully that great samian brought the laws of numbers and of the harmonies into agreement. but look, there are the pyramids!" the whole party rose at these words, and stood speechless, gazing at the grand sight which opened before them. the pyramids lay on the left bank of the nile, in the silver moonshine, massive and awful, as if bruising the earth beneath them with their weight; the giant graves of mighty rulers. they seemed examples of man's creative power, and at the same time warnings of the vanity and mutability of earthly greatness. for where was chufu now,--the king who had cemented that mountain of stone with the sweat of his subjects? where was the long-lived chafra who had despised the gods, and, defiant in the consciousness of his own strength, was said to have closed the gates of the temples in order to make himself and his name immortal by building a tomb of superhuman dimensions? [herodotus repeats, in good faith, that the builders of the great pyramids were despisers of the gods. the tombs of their faithful subjects at the foot of these huge structures prove, however, that they owe their bad repute to the hatred of the people, who could not forget the era of their hardest bondage, and branded the memories of their oppressors wherever an opportunity could be found. we might use the word "tradition" instead of "the people," for this it is which puts the feeling and tone of mind of the multitude into the form of history.] their empty sarcophagi are perhaps tokens, that the judges of the dead found them unworthy of rest in the grave, unworthy of the resurrection, whereas the builder of the third and most beautiful pyramid, menkera, who contented himself with a smaller monument, and reopened the gates of the temples, was allowed to rest in peace in his coffin of blue basalt. there they lay in the quiet night, these mighty pyramids, shone on by the bright stars, guarded by the watchman of the desert--the gigantic sphinx,--and overlooking the barren rocks of the libyan stony mountains. at their feet, in beautifully-ornamented tombs, slept the mummies of their faithful subjects, and opposite the monument of the pious menkera stood a temple, where prayers were said by the priests for the souls of the many dead buried in the great memphian city of the dead. in the west, where the sun went down behind the libyan mountains, where the fruitful land ended and the desert began--there the people of memphis had buried their dead; and as our gay party looked towards the west they felt awed into a solemn silence. but their boat sped on before the north-wind; they left the city of the dead behind them and passed the enormous dikes built to protect the city of menes from the violence of the floods; the city of the pharaohs came in sight, dazzlingly bright with the myriads of flames which had been kindled in honor of the goddess neith, and when at last the gigantic temple of ptah appeared, the most ancient building of the most ancient land, the spell broke, their tongues were loosed, and they burst out into loud exclamations of delight. it was illuminated by thousands of lamps; a hundred fires burnt on its pylons, its battlemented walls and roofs. burning torches flared between the rows of sphinxes which connected the various gates with the main building, and the now empty house of the god apis was so surrounded by colored fires that it gleamed like a white limestone rock in a tropical sunset. pennons, flags and garlands waved above the brilliant picture; music and loud songs could be heard from below. "glorious," cried rhodopis in enthusiasm, "glorious! look how the painted walls and columns gleam in the light, and what marvellous figures the shadows of the obelisks and sphinxes throw on the smooth yellow pavement!" "and how mysterious the sacred grove looks yonder!" added croesus. "i never saw anything so wonderful before." "i have seen something more wonderful still," said darius. "you will hardly believe me when i tell you that i have witnessed a celebration of the mysteries of neith." "tell us what you saw, tell us!" was the universal outcry. "at first neithotep refused me admission, but when i promised to remain hidden, and besides, to obtain the freedom of his child, he led me up to his observatory, from which there is a very extensive view, and told me that i should see a representation of the fates of osiris and his wife isis. "he had scarcely left, when the sacred grove became so brightly illuminated by colored lights that i was able to see into its innermost depths. "a lake, smooth as glass, lay before me, surrounded by beautiful trees and flower-beds. golden boats were sailing on this lake and in them sat lovely boys and girls dressed in snow-white garments, and singing sweet songs as they passed over the water. there were no rowers to direct these boats, and yet they moved over the ripples of the lake in a graceful order, as if guided by some magic unseen hand. a large ship sailed in the midst of this little fleet. its deck glittered with precious stones. it seemed to be steered by one beautiful boy only, and, strange to say, the rudder he guided consisted of one white lotusflower, the delicate leaves of which seemed scarcely to touch the water. a very lovely woman, dressed like a queen, lay on silken cushions in the middle of the vessel; by her side sat a man of larger stature than that of ordinary mortals. he wore a crown of ivy on his flowing curls, a panther-skin hung over his shoulders and he held a crooked staff in the right hand. in the back part of the ship was a roof made of ivy, lotusblossoms and roses; beneath it stood a milk-white cow with golden horns, covered with a cloth of purple. the man was osiris, the woman isis, the boy at the helm their son horus, and the cow was the animal sacred to the immortal isis. the little boats all skimmed over the water, singing glad songs of joy as they passed by the ship, and receiving in return showers of flowers and fruits, thrown down upon the lovely singers by the god and goddess within. suddenly i heard the roll of thunder. it came crashing on, louder, and louder, and in the midst of this awful sound a man in the skin of a wild boar, with hideous features and bristling red hair, came out of the gloomiest part of the sacred grove, plunged into the lake, followed by seventy creatures like himself, and swam up to the ship of osiris. [we have taken our description of this spectacle entirely from the osiris-myth, as we find it in plutarch, isis and orisis 13-19. diod. i. 22. and a thousand times repeated on the monuments. horus is called "the avenger of his father," &c. we copy the battle with all its phases from an inscription at edfu, interpreted by naville.] "the little boats fled with the swiftness of the wind, and the trembling boy helmsman dropped his lotusblossom. "the dreadful monster then rushed on osiris, and, with the help of his comrades, killed him, threw the body into a coffin and the coffin into the lake, the waters of which seemed to carry it away as if by magic. isis meanwhile had escaped to land in one of the small boats, and was now running hither and thither on the shores of the lake, with streaming hair, lamenting her dead husband and followed by the virgins who had escaped with her. their songs and dances, while seeking the body of osiris, were strangely plaintive and touching, and the girls accompanied the dance by waving black byssus scarfs in wonderfully graceful curves. neither were the youths idle; they busied themselves in making a costly coffin for the vanished corpse of the god, accompanying their work with dances and the sound of castanets. when this was finished they joined the maidens in the train of the lamenting isis and wandered on the shore with them, singing and searching. "suddenly a low song rose from some invisible lips. it swelled louder and louder and announced, that the body of the god had been transported by the currents of the mediterranean to gebal in distant phoenicia. this singing voice thrilled to my very heart; neithotep's son, who was my companion, called it 'the wind of rumor.' "when isis heard the glad news, she threw off her mourning garments and sang a song of triumphant rejoicing, accompanied by the voices of her beautiful followers. rumor had not lied; the goddess really found the sarcophagus and the dead body of her husband on the northern shore of the lake. [it is natural, that isis should find the body of her husband in the north. the connection between phoenicia and egypt in this myth, as it has been handed down to us by plutarch, is very remarkable. we consider the explanation of the close affinity between the isis and osiris and the adonis myths to be in the fact, that egyptians and phoenicians lived together on the shores of the delta where the latter had planted their colonies. plutarch's story of the finding of osiris' dead body is very charming. isis and osiris. ed. parth. 15.] "they brought both to land with dances; isis threw herself on the beloved corpse, called on the name of osiris and covered the mummy with kisses, while the youths wove a wonderful tomb of lotus-flowers and ivy. "when the coffin had been laid under this beautiful vault, isis left the sad place of mourning and went to look for her son. she found him at the east end of the lake, where for a long time i had seen a beautiful youth practising arms with a number of companions. "while she was rejoicing over her newly-found child, a fresh peal of thunder told that typhon had returned. this time the monster rushed upon the beautiful flowering grave, tore the body out of its coffin, hewed it into fourteen pieces, and strewed them over the shores of the lake. "when isis came back to the grave, she found nothing but faded flowers and an empty coffin; but at fourteen different places on the shore fourteen beautiful colored flames were burning. she and her virgins ran to these flames, while horus led the youths to battle against typhon on the opposite shore. "my eyes and ears hardly sufficed for all i had to see and hear. on the one shore a fearful and interesting struggle, peals of thunder and the braying of trumpets; on the other the sweet voices of the women, singing the most captivating songs to the most enchanting dances, for isis had found a portion of her husband's body at every fire and was rejoicing. "that was something for you, zopyrus! i know of no words to describe the grace of those girls' movements, or how beautiful it was to see them first mingling in intricate confusion, then suddenly standing in faultless, unbroken lines, falling again into the same lovely tumult and passing once more into order, and all this with the greatest swiftness. bright rays of light flashed from their whirling ranks all the time, for each dancer had a mirror fastened between her shoulders, which flashed while she was in motion, and reflected the scene when she was still. "just as isis had found the last limb but one of the murdered osiris, loud songs of triumph and the flourish of trumpets resounded from the opposite shore. "horus had conquered typhon, and was forcing his way into the nether regions to free his father. the gate to this lower world opened on the west side of the lake and was guarded by a fierce female hippopotamus. "and now a lovely music of flutes and harps came nearer and nearer, heavenly perfumes rose into the air, a rosy light spread over the sacred grove, growing brighter every minute, and osiris came up from the lower world, led by his victorious son. isis hastened to embrace her risen and delivered husband, gave the beautiful horus his lotus-flower again instead of the sword, and scattered fruits and flowers over the earth, while osiris seated himself under a canopy wreathed with ivy, and received the homage of all the spirits of the earth and of the amenti." [the lower world, in egyptian amenti, properly speaking, the west or kingdom of death, to which the soul returns at the death of the body, as the sun at his setting. in a hieroglyphic inscription of the time of the ptolemies the amenti is called hades.] darius was silent. rhodopis began: "we thank you for your charming account; but this strange spectacle must have a higher meaning, and we should thank you doubly if you would explain that to us." "your idea is quite right," answered darius, "but what i know i dare not tell. i was obliged to promise neithotep with an oath, not to tell tales out of school." "shall i tell you," asked rhodopis, "what conclusions various hints from pythagoras and onuphis have led me to draw, as to the meaning of this drama? isis seems to me to represent the bountiful earth; osiris, humidity or the nile, which makes the earth fruitful; horus, the young spring; typhon, the scorching drought. the bounteous earth, robbed of her productive power, seeks this beloved husband with lamentations in the cooler regions of the north, where the nile discharges his waters. at last horus, the young springing power of nature, is grown up and conquers typhon, or the scorching drought. osiris, as is the case with the fruitful principle of nature, was only apparently dead, rises from the nether regions and once more rules the blessed valley of the nile, in concert with his wife, the bounteous earth." "and as the murdered god behaved properly in the lower regions," said zopyrus, laughing, "he is allowed, at the end of this odd story, to receive homage from the inhabitants of hamestegan, duzakh and gorothman, or whatever they call these abodes for the egyptian spirit-host." "they are called amenti," said darius, falling into his friend's merry mood; but you must know that the history of this divine pair represents not only the life of nature, but also that of the human soul, which, like the murdered osiris, lives an eternal life, even when the body is dead." "thank you," said the other; "i'll try to remember that if i should chance to die in egypt. but really, cost what it may, i must see this wonderful sight soon." "just my own wish," said rhodopis. "age is inquisitive." "you will never be old," interrupted darius. "your conversation and your features have remained alike beautiful, and your mind is as clear and bright as your eyes." "forgive me for interrupting you," said rhodopis, as if she had not heard his flattering words, "but the word 'eyes' reminds me of the oculist nebenchari, and my memory fails me so often, that i must ask you what has become of him, before i forget. i hear nothing now of this skilful operator to whom the noble kassandane owes her sight." "he is much to be pitied," replied darius. "even before we reached pelusium he had begun to avoid society, and scorned even to speak with his countryman onuphis. his gaunt old servant was the only being allowed to wait on or be with him. but after the battle his whole behavior changed. he went to the king with a radiant countenance, and asked permission to accompany him to sais, and to choose two citizens of that town to be his slaves. cambyses thought he could not refuse anything to the man, who had been such a benefactor to his mother, and granted him full power to do what he wished. on arriving at amasis' capital, he went at once to the temple of neith, caused the high-priest (who had moreover placed himself at the head of the citizens hostile to persia), to be arrested, and with him a certain oculist named petammon. he then informed them that, as punishment for the burning of certain papers, they would be condemned to serve a persian to whom he should sell them, for the term of their natural lives, and to perform the most menial services of slaves in a foreign country. i was present at this scene, and i assure you i trembled before the egyptian as he said these words to his enemies. neithotep, however, listened quietly, and when nebenchari had finished, answered him thus: if thou, foolish son, hast betrayed thy country for the sake of thy burnt manuscripts, the deed has been neither just nor wise. i preserved thy valuable works with the greatest care, laid them up in our temple, and sent a complete copy to the library at thebes. nothing was burnt but the letters from amasis to thy father, and a worthless old chest. psamtik and petammon were present, and it was then and there resolved that a new family tomb in the city of the dead should be built for thee as a compensation for the loss of papers, which, in order to save egypt, we were unfortunately forced to destroy. on its walls thou canst behold pleasing paintings of the gods to whom thou hast devoted thy life, the most sacred chapters from the book of the dead, and many other beautiful pictures touching thine own life and character." "the physician turned very pale--asked first to see his books, and then his new and beautifully-fitted-up tomb. he then gave his slaves their freedom, (notwithstanding which they were still taken to memphis as prisoners of war), and went home, often passing his hand across his forehead on the way, and with the uncertain step of one intoxicated. on reaching his house he made a will, bequeathing all he possessed to the grandson of his old servant hib, and, alleging that he was ill, went to bed. the next morning he was found dead. he had poisoned himself with the fearful strychnos-juice." "miserable man" said croesus. "the gods had blinded him, and he reaped despair instead of revenge, as a reward for his treachery." "i pity him," murmured rhodopis. "but look, the rowers are taking in their oars. we are at the end of our journey; there are your litters and carriages waiting for you. it was a beautiful trip. farewell, my dear ones; come to naukratis soon, i shall return at once with theopompus and syloson. give little parmys a thousand kisses from me, and tell melitta never to take her out at noon. it is dangerous for the eyes. goodnight, croesus; good-night, friends, farewell my dear son." the persians left the vessel with many a nod and farewell word, and bartja, looking round once more, missed his footing and fell on the landing-pier. he sprang up in a moment without zopyrus' help, who came running back, calling out, "take care, bartja! it's unlucky to fall in stepping ashore. i did the very same thing, when we left the ship that time at naukratis." chapter xiv. while our friends were enjoying their row on the nile, cambyses' envoy, prexaspes, had returned from a mission to the long-lived ethiopians. he praised their strength and stature, described the way to their country as almost inaccessible to a large army, and had plenty of marvellous tales to tell. how, for instance; they always chose the strongest and handsomest man in their nation for their king, and obeyed him unconditionally: how many of them reached the age of 120 years, and some even passed it: how they ate nothing but boiled flesh, drank new milk and washed in a spring the waters of which had the scent of violets, gave a remarkable lustre to their skins, and were so light that wood could not swim in them: how their captives wore golden fetters, because other metals were rare and dear in their country; and lastly, how they covered the bodies of the dead with plaster or stucco, over which a coating of some glass-like material was poured, and kept the pillars thus formed one year in their houses, during which time sacrifices were offered them, and at the year's end they were placed in rows around the town. the king of this strange people had accepted cambyses' presents, saying, in a scornful tone, that he new well his friendship was of no importance to the persians, and prexaspes had only been sent to spy out the land. if the prince of asia were a just man, he would be contented with his own immense empire and not try to subjugate a people who had done him no wrong. "take your king this bow," he said, "and advise him not to begin the war with us, until the persians are able to bend such weapons as easily as we do. cambyses may thank the gods, that the ethiopians have never taken it into their heads to conquer countries which do not belong to them." he then unbent his mighty bow of ebony, and gave it to prexaspes to take to his lord. cambyses laughed at the bragging african, invited his nobles to a trial of the bow the next morning, and awarded prexaspes for the clever way in which he had overcome the difficulties of his journey and acquitted himself of his mission. he then went to rest, as usual intoxicated, and fell into a disturbed sleep, in which he dreamed that bartja was seated on the throne of persia, and that the crown of his head touched the heavens. this was a dream, which he could interpret without the aid of soothsayer or chaldean. it roused his anger first, and then made him thoughtful. he could not sleep, and such questions as the following came into his mind: "haven't you given your brother reason to feel revengeful? do you think he can forget that you imprisoned and condemned him to death, when he was innocent? and if he should raise his hand against you, would not all the achaemenidae take his part? have i ever done, or have i any intention of ever doing anything to win the love of these venal courtiers? since nitetis died and that strange greek fled, has there been a single human being, in whom i have the least confidence or on whose affection i can rely?" these thoughts and questionings excited him so fearfully, that he sprang from his bed, crying: "love and i have nothing to do with one another. other men maybe kind and good if they like; i must be stern, or i shall fall into the hands of those who hate me--hate me because i have been just, and have visited heavy sins with heavy chastisements. they whisper flattering words in my ear; they curse me when my back is turned. the gods themselves must be my enemies, or why do they rob me of everything i love, deny me posterity and even that military glory which is my just due? is bartja so much better than i, that everything which i am forced to give up should be his in hundred-fold measure? love, friendship, fame, children, everything flows to him as the rivers to the sea, while my heart is parched like the desert. but i am king still. i can show him which is the stronger of us two, and i will, though his forehead may touch the heavens. in persia there can be only one great man. he or i, --i or he. in a few days i'll send him back to asia and make him satrap of bactria. there he can nurse his child and listen to his wife's songs, while i am winning glory in ethiopia, which it shall not be in his power to lessen. ho, there, dressers! bring my robes and a good morningdraught of wine. i'll show the persians that i'm fit to be king of ethiopia, and can beat them all at bending a bow. here, give me another cup of wine. i'd bend that bow, if it were a young cedar and its string a cable!" so saying he drained an immense bowl of wine and went into the palace-garden, conscious of his enormous strength and therefore sure of success. all his nobles were assembled waiting for him there, welcomed him with loud acclamations, and fell on their faces to the ground before their king. pillars, connected by scarlet cords, had been quickly set up between the closely-cut hedges and straight avenues. from these cords, suspended by gold and silver rings, yellow and dark blue hangings fluttered in the breeze. gilded wooden benches had been placed round in a large circle, and nimble cup-bearers handed wine in costly vessels to the company assembled for the shooting-match. at a sign from the king the achaemenidae rose from the earth. cambyses glanced over their ranks, and his face brightened on seeing that bartja was not there. prexaspes handed him the ethiopian bow, and pointed out a target at some distance. cambyses laughed at the large size of the target, weighted the bow with his right hand, challenged his subjects to try their fortune first, and handed the bow to the aged hystaspes, as the highest in rank among the achaemenidae. while hystaspes first, and then all the heads of the six other highest families in persia, were using their utmost efforts to bend this monster weapon in vain, the king emptied goblet after goblet of wine, his spirits rising as he watched their vain endeavors to solve the ethiopian's problem. at last darius, who was famous for his skill in archery, took the bow. nearly the same result. the wood was inflexible as iron and all his efforts only availed to move it one finger's breadth. the king gave him a friendly nod in reward for his success, and then, looking round on his friends and relations in a manner that betokened the most perfect assurance, he said: "give me the bow now, darius. i will show you, that there is only one man in persia who deserves the name of king; --only one who can venture to take the field against the ethiopians;-only one who can bend this bow." he grasped it tightly with his left hand, taking the string, which was as thick as a man's finger and made from the intestines of a lion, in his right, fetched a deep breath, bent his mighty back and pulled and pulled; collected all his strength for greater and greater efforts, strained his sinews till they threatened to break, and the veins in his forehead were swollen to bursting, did not even disdain to use his feet and legs, but all in vain. after a quarter of an hour of almost superhuman exertion, his strength gave way, the ebony, which he had succeeded in bending even farther than darius, flew back and set all his further endeavors at nought. at last, feeling himself thoroughly exhausted, he dashed the bow on to the ground in a passion, crying: "the ethiopian is a liar! no mortal man has ever bent that bow. what is impossible for my arm is possible for no other. in three days we will start for ethiopia. i will challenge the impostor to a single combat, and ye shall see which is the stronger. take up the bow, prexaspes, and keep it carefully. the black liar shall be strangled with his own bow-string. this wood is really harder than iron, and i confess that the man who could bend it, would really be my master. i should not be ashamed to call him so, for he must be of better stuff than i." as he finished speaking, bartja appeared in the circle of assembled persians. his glorious figure was set off to advantage by his rich dress, his features were bright with happiness and a feeling of conscious strength. he passed through the ranks of the achaemenidae with many a friendly nod, which was warmly returned, and going straight to his brother, kissed his robe, looked up frankly and cheerfully into his gloomy eyes, and said: "i am a little late, and ask your forgiveness, my lord and brother. or have i really come in time? yes, yes, i see there's no arrow in the target yet, so i am sure you, the best archer in the world, cannot have tried your strength yet. but you look so enquiringly at me. then i will confess that our child kept me. the little creature laughed to-day for the first time, and was so charming with its mother, that i forgot how time was passing while i watched them. you have all full leave to laugh at my folly; i really don't know how to excuse myself. see, the little one has pulled my star from the chain. but i think, my brother, you will give me a new one to-day if i should hit the bull's eye. shall i shoot first, or will you begin, my sovereign?" "give him the bow, prexaspes," said cambyses, not even deigning to look at his brother. bartja took it and was proceeding to examine the wood and the string, when cambyses suddenly called out, with a mocking laugh: "by mithras, i believe you want to try your sweet looks on the bow, and win its favor in that fashion, as you do the hearts of men. give it back to prexaspes. it's easier to play with beautiful women and laughing children, than with a weapon like this, which mocks the strength even of real men." bartja blushed with anger and annoyance at this speech, which was uttered in the bitterest tone, picked up the giant arrow that lay before him, placed himself opposite the target, summoned all his strength, bent the bow, by an almost superhuman effort, and sent the arrow into the very centre of the target, where its iron point remained, while the wooden shaft split into a hundred shivers. [herodotus tells this story (iii, 30.), and we are indebted to him also for our information of the events which follow. the following inscription, said to have been placed over the grave of darius, and communicated by onesikritus, (strabo 730.) proves that the persians were very proud of being reputed good archers: "i was a friend to my friends, the best rider and archer, a first-rate hunter; i could do everything."] most of the achaemenidae burst into loud shouts of delight at this marvellous proof of strength; but bartja's nearest friends turned pale and were silent; they were watching the king, who literally quivered with rage, and bartja, who was radiant with pride and joy. cambyses was a fearful sight at that moment. it seemed to him as if that arrow, in piercing the target, had pierced his own heart, his strength, dignity and honor. sparks floated before his eyes, in his ears was a sound like the breaking of a stormy sea on the shore; his cheeks glowed and he grasped the arm of prexaspes who was at his side. prexaspes only too well understood what that pressure meant, when given by a royal hand, and murmured: "poor bartja!" at last the king succeeded in recovering his presence of mind. without saying a word, he threw a gold chain to his brother, ordered his nobles to follow him, and left the garden, but only to wander restlessly up and down his apartments, and try to drown his rage in wine. suddenly he seemed to have formed a resolution and ordered all the courtiers, except prexaspes, to leave the hall. when they were alone, he called out in a hoarse voice and with a look that proved the extent of his intoxication: "this life is not to be borne! rid me of my enemy, and i will call you my friend and benefactor." prexaspes trembled, threw himself at the king's feet and raised his hands imploringly; but cambyses was too intoxicated, and too much blinded by his hatred to understand the action. he fancied the prostration was meant as a sign of devotion to his will, signed to him to rise, and whispered, as if afraid of hearing his own words: "act quickly and secretly; and, as you value your life, let no one know of the upstart's death. depart, and when your work is finished, take as much as you like out of the treasury. but keep your wits about you. the boy has a strong arm and a winning tongue. think of your own wife and children, if he tries to win you over with his smooth words." as he spoke he emptied a fresh goblet of pure wine, staggered through the door of the room, calling out as he turned his back on prexaspes: "woe be to you if that upstart, that woman's hero, that fellow who has robbed me of my honor, is left alive." long after he had left the hall, prexaspes stood fixed on the spot where he had heard these words. the man was ambitious, but neither mean nor bad, and he felt crushed by the awful task allotted to him. he knew that his refusal to execute it would bring death or disgrace on himself and on his family; but he loved bartja, and besides, his whole nature revolted at the thought of becoming a common, hired murderer. a fearful struggle began in his mind, and raged long after he left the palace. on the way home he met croesus and darius. he fancied they would see from his looks that he was already on the way to a great crime, and hid himself behind the projecting gate of a large egyptian house. as they passed, he heard croesus say: "i reproached him bitterly, little as he deserves reproach in general, for having given such an inopportune proof of his great strength. we may really thank the gods, that cambyses did not lay violent hands on him in a fit of passion. he has followed my advice now and gone with his wife to sais. for the next few days bartja must not come near the king; the mere sight of him might rouse his anger again, and a monarch can always find unprincipled servants . . ." the rest of the sentence died away in the distance, but the words he had heard were enough to make prexaspes start, as if croesus had accused him of the shameful deed. he resolved in that moment that, come what would, his hands should not be stained with the blood of a friend. this resolution restored him his old erect bearing and firm gait for the time, but when he reached the dwelling which had been assigned as his abode in sais his two boys ran to the door to meet him. they had stolen away from the play-ground of the sons of the achaemenidae, (who, as was always the case, had accompanied the king and the army), to see their father for a moment. he felt a strange tenderness, which he could not explain to himself, on taking them in his arms, and kissed the beautiful boys once more on their telling him that they must go back to their play-ground again, or they should be punished. within, he found his favorite wife playing with their youngest child, a sweet little girl. again the same strange, inexplicable feeling of tenderness. he overcame it this time for fear of betraying his secret to his young wife, and retired to his own apartment early. night had come on. the sorely-tried man could not sleep; he turned restlessly from side to side. the fearful thought, that his refusal to do the king's will would be the ruin of his wife and children, stood before his wakeful eyes in the most vivid colors. the strength to keep his good resolution forsook him, and even croesus' words, which, when he first heard them had given his nobler feelings the victory, now came in as a power on the other side. "a monarch can always find unprincipled servants." yes, the words were an affront, but at the same time a reminder, that though he might defy the king's command a hundred others would be ready to obey it. no sooner had this thought become clear to him, than he started up, examined a number of daggers which hung, carefully arranged, above his bed, and laid the sharpest on the little table before him. he then began to pace the room in deep thought, often going to the opening which served as a window, to cool his burning forehead and see if dawn were near. when at last daylight appeared, he heard the sounding brass calling the boys to early prayer. that reminded him of his sons and he examined the dagger a second time. a troop of gaily-dressed courtiers rode by on their way to the king. he put the dagger in his girdle; and at last, on hearing the merry laughter of his youngest child sound from the women's apartments, he set the tiara hastily on his head, left the house without taking leave of his wife, and, accompanied by a number of slaves, went down to the nile. there he threw himself into a boat and ordered the rowers to take him to sais. ......................... a few hours after the fatal shooting-match, bartja had followed croesus' advice and had gone off to sais with his young wife. they found rhodopis there. she had yielded to an irresistible impulse and, instead of returning to naukratis, had stopped at sais. bartja's fall on stepping ashore had disturbed her, and she had with her own eyes seen an owl fly from the left side close by his head. these evil omens, to a heart which had by no means outgrown the superstitions of the age, added to a confused succession of distressing dreams which had disturbed her slumbers, and her usual wish to be always near bartja and sappho, led her to decide quickly on waiting for her granddaughter at sais. bartja and sappho were delighted to find such a welcome guest, and after she had dandled and played with her great grandchild, the little parmys, to her heart's content, they led her to the rooms which had been prepared for her. [herodotus states, that beside atossa, &c.. darius took a daughter of the deceased bartja, named parmys, to be his wife. herod. iii. 88. she is also mentioned vii. 78.] they were the same in which the unhappy tachot had spent the last months of her fading existence. rhodopis could not see all the little trifles which showed, not only the age and sex of the former occupant, but her tastes and disposition, without feeling very sad. on the dressing-table were a number of little ointment-boxes and small bottles for perfumes, cosmetics, washes and oils. two larger boxes, one in the form of a nilegoose, and another on the side of which a woman playing on a lute had been painted, had once contained the princess's costly golden ornaments, and the metal mirror with a handle in the form of a sleeping maiden, had once reflected her beautiful face with its pale pink flush. everything in the room, from the elegant little couch resting on lions' claws, to the delicately-carved ivory combs on the toilet-table, proved that the outward adornments of life had possessed much charm for the former owner of these rooms. the golden sisirum and the delicately-wrought nabla, the strings of which had long ago been broken, testified to her taste for music, while the broken spindle in the corner, and some unfinished nets of glass beads shewed that she had been fond of woman's usual work. it was a sad pleasure to rhodopis to examine all these things, and the picture which she drew in her own mind of tachot after the inspection, differed very little from the reality. at last interest and curiosity led her to a large painted chest. she lifted the light cover and found, first, a few dried flowers; then a ball, round which some skilful hand had wreathed roses and leaves, once fresh and bright, now, alas, long ago dead and withered. beside these were a number of amulets in different forms, one representing the goddess of truth, another containing spells written on a strip of papyrus and concealed in a little golden case. then her eyes fell on some letters written in the greek character. she read them by the light of the lamp. they were from nitetis in persia to her supposed sister, and were written in ignorance of the latter's illness. when rhodopis laid them down her eyes were full of tears. the dead girl's secret lay open before her. she knew now that tachot had loved bartja, that he had given her the faded flowers, and that she had wreathed the ball with roses because he had thrown it to her. the amulets must have been intended either to heal her sick heart, or to awaken love in his. as she was putting the letters back in their old place, she touched some cloths which seemed put in to fill up the bottom of the chest, and felt a hard round substance underneath. she raised them, and discovered a bust made of colored wax, such a wonderfully-exact portrait of nitetis, that an involuntary exclamation of surprise broke from her, and it was long before she could turn her eyes away from theodorus' marvellous work. she went to rest and fell asleep, thinking of the sad fate of nitetis, the egyptian princess. the next morning rhodopis went into the garden--the same into which we led our readers during the lifetime of amasis-and found bartja and sappho in an arbor overgrown with vines. sappho was seated in a light wicker-work chair. her child lay on her lap, stretching out its little hands and feet, sometimes to its father, who was kneeling on the ground before them, and then to its mother whose laughing face was bent down over her little one. bartja was very happy with his child. when the little creature buried its tiny fingers in his curls and beard, he would draw his head back to feel the strength of the little hand, would. kiss its rosy feet, its little round white shoulders and dimpled arms. sappho enjoyed the fun, always trying to draw the little one's attention to its father. sometimes, when she stooped down to kiss the rosy baby lips, her forehead would touch his curls and he would steal the kiss meant for the little parmys. rhodopis watched them a long time unperceived, and, with tears of joy in her eyes, prayed the gods that they might long be as happy as they now were. at last she came into the arbor to wish them good-morning, and bestowed much praise on old melitta for appearing at the right moment, parasol in hand, to take her charge out of the sunshine before it became too bright and hot, and put her to sleep. the old slave had been appointed head-nurse to the high-born child, and acquitted herself in her new office with an amount of importance which was very comical. hiding her old limbs under rich persian robes, she moved about exulting in the new and delightful right to command, and kept her inferiors in perpetual motion. sappho followed melitta into the palace, first whispering in her husband's ear with her arm round his neck: "tell my grandmother everything and ask whether you are right." before he could answer, she had stopped his mouth with a kiss, and then hurried after the old woman who was departing with dignified steps. the prince smiled as he watched her graceful walk and beautiful figure, and said, turning to rhodopis: "does not it strike you, that she has grown taller lately." "it seems so," answered rhodopis. "a woman's girlhood has its own peculiar charm, but her true dignity comes with motherhood. it is the feeling of having fulfilled her destiny, which raises her head and makes us fancy she has grown taller." "yes," said bartja, "i think she is happy. yesterday our opinions differed for the first time, and as she was leaving us just now, she begged me, privately, to lay the question before you, which i am very glad to do, for i honor your experience and wisdom just as much, as i love her childlike inexperience." bartja then told the story of the unfortunate shooting-match, finishing with these words: "croesus blames my imprudence, but i know my brother; i know that when he is angry he is capable of any act of violence, and it is not impossible that at the moment when he felt himself defeated he could have killed me; but i know too, that when his fierce passion has cooled, he will forget my boastful deed, and only try to excel me by others of the same kind. a year ago he was by far the best marksman in persia, and would be so still, if drink and epilepsy had not undermined his strength. i must confess i feel as if i were becoming stronger every day." "yes," interrupted rhodopis, "pure happiness strengthens a man's arm, just as it adds to the beauty of a woman, while intemperance and mental distress ruin both body and mind far more surely even than old age. my son, beware of your brother; his strong arm has become paralyzed, and his generosity can be forfeited too. trust my experience, that the man who is the slave of one evil passion, is very seldom master of the rest; besides which, no one feels humiliation so bitterly as he who is sinking --who knows that his powers are forsaking him. i say again, beware of your brother, and trust the voice of experience more than that of your own heart, which, because it is generous itself, believes every one else to be so." "i see," said bartja, "that you will take sappho's side. difficult as it will be for her to part from you, she has still begged me to return with her to persia. she thinks that cambyses may forget his anger, when i am out of sight. i thought she was over-anxious, and besides, it would disappoint me not to take part in the expedition against the ethiopians." "but i entreat you," interrupted rhodopis, "to follow her advice. the gods only know what pain it will give me to lose you both, and yet i repeat a thousand times: go back to persia, and remember that none but fools stake life and happiness to no purpose. as to the war with ethiopia, it is mere madness; instead of subduing those black inhabitants of the south, you yourselves will be conquered by heat, thirst and all the horrors of the desert. in saying this i refer to the campaigns in general; as to your own share in them, i can only say that if no fame is to be won there, you will be putting your own life and the happiness of your family in jeopardy literally for nothing, and that if, on the other hand, you should distinguish yourself again, it would only be giving fresh cause of jealousy and anger to your brother. no, go to persia, as soon as you can." bartja was just beginning to make various objections to these arguments, when he caught sight of prexaspes coming up to them, looking very pale. after the usual greeting, the envoy whispered to bartja, that he should like to speak with him alone. rhodopis left them at once, and he began, playing with the rings on his right hand as he spoke, in a constrained, embarrassed way. "i come from the king. your display of strength irritated him yesterday, and he does not wish to see you again for some time. his orders are, that you set out for arabia to buy up all the camels that are to be had. [camels are never represented on the egyptian monuments, whereas they were in great use among the arabians and persians, and are now a necessity on the nile. they must have existed in egypt, however. hekekyan-bey discovered the bones of a dromedary in a deep bore. representations of these creatures were probably forbid we know this was the case with the cock, of which bird there were large numbers in egypt: it is remarkable, that camels were not introduced into barbary until after the birth of christ.] "as these animals can bear thirst very long, they are to be used in conveying food and water for our army on the ethiopian campaign. there must be no delay. take leave of your wife, and (i speak by the king's command) be ready to start before dark. you will be absent at least a month. i am to accompany you as far as pelusium. kassandane wishes to have your wife and child near her during your absence. send them to memphis as soon as possible; under the protection of the queen mother, they will be in safety." prexaspes' short, constrained way of speaking did not strike bartja. he rejoiced at what seemed to him great moderation on the part of his brother, and at receiving a commission which relieved him of all doubt on the question of leaving egypt, gave his friend, (as he supposed him to be), his hand to kiss and an invitation to follow him into the palace. in the cool of the evening, he took a short but very affectionate farewell of sappho and his child, who was asleep in melitta's arms, told his wife to set out as soon as possible on her journey to kassandane, called out jestingly to his mother-in-law, that at least this time she had been mistaken in her judgment of a man's character, (meaning his brother's), and sprang on to his horse. as prexaspes was mounting, sappho whispered to him, "take care of that reckless fellow, and remind him of me and his child, when you see him running into unnecessary danger." "i shall have to leave him at pelusium," answered the envoy, busying himself with the bridle of his horse in order to avoid meeting her eyes. "then may the gods take him into their keeping!" exclaimed sappho, clasping her husband's hand, and bursting into tears, which she could not keep back. bartja looked down and saw his usually trustful wife in tears. he felt sadder than he had ever felt before. stooping down lovingly from his saddle, he put his strong arm round her waist, lifted her up to him, and as she stood supporting herself on his foot in the stirrup, pressed her to his heart, as if for a long last farewell. he then let her safely and gently to the ground, took his child up to him on the saddle, kissed and fondled the little creature, and told her laughingly to make her mother very happy while he was away, exchanged some warm words of farewell with rhodopis, and then, spurring his horse till the creature reared, dashed through the gateway of the pharaohs' palace, with prexaspes at his side. when the sound of the horses' hoofs had died away in the distance, sappho laid her head on her grandmother's shoulder and wept uncontrollably. rhodopis remonstrated and blamed, but all in vain, she could not stop her tears. chapter xv. on the morning after the trial of the bow, cambyses was seized by such a violent attack of his old illness, that he was forced to keep his room for two days and nights, ill in mind and body; at times raging like a madman, at others weak and powerless as a little child. on the third day he recovered consciousness and remembered the awful charge he had laid on prexaspes, and that it was only too possible he might have executed it already. at this thought he trembled, as he had never trembled in his life before. he sent at once for the envoy's eldest son, who was one of the royal cup-bearers. the boy said his father had left memphis, without taking leave of his family. he then sent for darius, zopyrus and gyges, knowing how tenderly they loved bartja, and enquired after their friend. on hearing from them that he was at sais, he sent the three youths thither at once, charging them, if they met prexaspes on the way, to send him back to memphis without delay. this haste and the king's strange behavior were quite incomprehensible to the young achaemenidae; nevertheless they set out on their journey with all speed, fearing that something must be wrong. cambyses, meanwhile, was miserably restless, inwardly cursed his habit of drinking and tasted no wine the whole of that clay. seeing his mother in the palace-gardens, he avoided her; he durst not meet her eye. the next eight days passed without any sign of prexaspes' return; they seemed to the king like a year. a hundred times he sent for the young cup-bearer and asked if his father had returned; a hundred times he received the same disappointing answer. at sunset on the thirteenth day, kassandane sent to beg a visit from him. the king went at once, for now he longed to look on the face of his mother; he fancied it might give him back his lost sleep. after he had greeted her with a tenderness so rare from him, that it astonished her, he asked for what reason she had desired his presence. she answered, that bartja's wife had arrived at memphis under singular circumstances and had said she wished to present a gift to cambyses. he gave sappho an audience at once, and heard from her that prexaspes had brought her husband an order to start for arabia, and herself a summons to memphis from the queen-mother. at these words the king turned very pale, and his features were agitated with pain as he looked at his brother's lovely young wife. she felt that something unusual was passing in his mind, and such dreadful forebodings arose in her own, that she could only offer him the gift in silence and with trembling hands. "my husband sends you this," she said, pointing to the ingeniouslywrought box, which contained the wax likeness of nitetis. rhodopis had advised her to take this to the king in bartja's name, as a propitiatory offering. cambyses showed no curiosity as to the contents of the box, gave it in charge to a eunuch, said a few words which seemed meant as thanks to his sister-in law, and left the women's apartments without even so much as enquiring after atossa, whose existence he seemed to have forgotten. he had come to his mother, believing that the visit would comfort and calm his troubled mind, but sappho's words had destroyed his last hope, and with that his last possibility of rest or peace. by this time either prexaspes would already have committed the murder, or perhaps at that very moment might be raising his dagger to plunge it into bartja's heart. how could he ever meet his mother again after bartja's death? how could he answer her questions or those of that lovely sappho, whose large, anxious, appealing eyes had touched him so strangely? a voice within told him, that his brother's murder would be branded as a cowardly, unnatural, and unjust deed, and he shuddered at the thought. it seemed fearful, unbearable, to be called an assassin. he had already caused the death of many a man without the least compunction, but that had been done either in fair fight, or openly before the world. he was king, and what the king did was right. had he killed bartja with his own hand, his conscience would not have reproached him; but to have had him privately put out of the way, after he had given so many proofs of possessing first-rate manly qualities, which deserved the highest praise --this tortured him with a feeling of rage at his own want of principle, -a feeling of shame and remorse which he had never known before. he began to despise himself. the consciousness of having acted, and wished to act justly, forsook him, and he began to fancy, that every one who had been executed by his orders, had been, like bartja, an innocent victim of his fierce anger. these thoughts became so intolerable, that he began to drink once more in the hope of drowning them. but now the wine had precisely the opposite effect, and brought such tormenting thoughts, that, worn out as he was already by epileptic fits and his habit of drinking, both body and mind threatened to give way to the agitation caused by the events of the last months. burning and shivering by turns, he was at last forced to lie down. while the attendants were disrobing him, he remembered his brother's present, had the box fetched and opened, and then desired to be left alone. the egyptian paintings on the outside of the box reminded him of nitetis, and then he asked himself what she would have said to his deed. fever had already begun, and his mind was wandering as he took the beautiful wax bust out of the box. he stared in horror at the dull, immovable eyes. the likeness was so perfect, and his judgment so weakened by wine and fever, that he fancied himself the victim of some spell, and yet could not turn his eyes from those dear features. suddenly the eyes seemed to move. he was seized with terror, and, in a kind of convulsion, hurled what he thought had become a living head against the wall. the hollow, brittle wax broke into a thousand fragments, and cambyses sank back on to his bed with a groan. from that moment the fever increased. in his delirium the banished phanes appeared, singing a scornful greek song and deriding him in such infamous words, that his fists clenched with rage. then he saw his friend and adviser, croesus, threatening him in the very same words of warning, which he had used when bartja had been sentenced to death by his command on account of nitetis: "beware of shedding a brother's blood; the smoke thereof will rise to heaven and become a cloud, that must darken the days of the murderer, and at last cast down the lightnings of heaven upon his head." and in his delirious fancy this figure of speech became a reality. a rain of blood streamed down upon him from dark clouds; his clothes and hands were wet with the loathsome moisture. he went down to the nile to cleanse himself, and suddenly saw nitetis coming towards him. she had the same sweet smile with which theodorus had modelled her. enchanted with this lovely vision, he fell down before her and took her hand, but he had scarcely touched it, when drops of blood appeared at the tips of her delicate fingers, and she turned away from him with every sign of horror. he humbly implored her to forgive him and come back; she remained inexorable. he grew angry, and threatened her, first with his wrath, and then with awful punishments. at last, as she only answered his threats by a low scornful laugh, he ventured to throw his dagger at her. she crumbled at once into a thousand pieces, like the wax statue. but the derisive laughter echoed on, and became louder. many voices joined in it, each trying to outbid the other. and the voices of bartja and nitetis were the loudest,--their tone the most bitter. at last he could bear these fearful sounds no longer and stopped his ears; this was of no use, and he buried his head, first in the glowing desert-sand and then in the icy cold nile-water, until his senses forsook him. on awaking, the actual state of things seemed incomprehensible to him. he had gone to bed in the evening, and yet he now saw, by the direction of the sun's rays which fell on his bed, that, instead of dawning as he had expected, the day was growing dark. there could be no mistake; he heard the chorus of priests singing farewell to the setting mithras. then he heard a number of people moving behind a curtain, which had been hung up at the head of his bed. he tried to turn in his bed, but could not; he was too weak. at last, finding it impossible to discover whether he was in real life or still in a dream, he called for his dressers and the courtiers, who were accustomed to be present when he rose. they appeared in a moment, and with them his mother, prexaspes, a number of the learned among the magi, and some egyptians who were unknown to him. they told him, that he had been lying in a violent fever for weeks, and had only escaped death by the special mercy of the gods, the skill of the physicians, and the unwearied nursing of his mother. he looked enquiringly first at kassandane, then at prexaspes, lost consciousness again, and fell into a deep sleep, from which he awoke the next morning with renewed strength. in four days he was strong enough to sit up and able to question prexaspes on the only subject, which occupied his thoughts. in consideration of his master's weakness the envoy was beginning an evasive reply, when a threatening movement of the king's gaunt, worn hand, and a look which had by no means lost its old power of awing into submission, brought him to the point at once, and in the hope of giving the king a great pleasure and putting his mind completely at rest, he began: "rejoice, o king! the youth, who dared to desire the disparagement of thy glory, is no more. this hand slew him and buried his body at baal-zephon. the sand of the desert and the unfruitful waves of the red sea were the only witnesses of the deed; and no creature knows thereof beside thyself, o king, thy servant prexaspes, and the gulls and cormorants, that hover over his grave." the king uttered a piercing shriek of rage, was seized by a fresh shivering-fit, and sank back once more in raving delirium. long weeks passed, every day of which threatened its death. at last, however, his strong constitution gained the day, but his mind had given way, and remained disordered and weak up to his last hour. when he was strong enough to leave the sick-room and to ride and shoot once more, he abandoned himself more than ever to the pleasure of drinking, and lost every remnant of self-control. the delusion had fixed itself in his disordered mind, that bartja was not dead, but transformed into the bow of the king of ethiopia, and that the feruer (soul) of his father cyrus had commanded him to restore bartja to its original form, by subjugating the black nation. this idea, which he confided to every one about him as a great secret, pursued him day and night and gave him no rest, until he had started for ethiopia with an immense host. he was forced, however, to return without having accomplished his object, after having miserably lost the greater part of his army by heat and the scarcity of provisions. an historian, who may almost be spoken of as contemporary, tells us that the wretched soldiers, after having subsisted on herbs as long as they could, came to deserts where there was no sign of vegetation, and in their despair resorted to an expedient almost too fearful to describe. lots were drawn by every ten men, and he on whom the lot fell was killed and eaten by the other nine. [herodotus visited egypt some 60 years after the death of cambyses, 454 b.c. he describes the ethiopian campaign, iii. 25.] at last things went so far, that his subjects compelled this madman to return, but only, with their slavish asiatic feelings, to obey him all the more blindly, when they found themselves once more in inhabited regions. on reaching memphis with the wreck of his army, he found the egyptians in glorious apparel celebrating a festival. they had found a new apis and were rejoicing over the reappearance of their god, incarnate in the sacred bull. as cambyses had heard at thebes, that the army he had sent against the oasis of ammon in the libyan desert, had perished miserably in a khamsin, or simoom, and that his fleet, which was to conquer carthage, had refused to fight with a people of their own race, he fancied that the memphians must be celebrating a festival of joy at the news of his misfortunes, sent for their principal men, and after reproaching them with their conduct, asked why they had been gloomy and morose after his victories, but joyous at hearing of his misfortunes. the memphians answered by explaining the real ground for their merry-making, and told him, that the appearance of the sacred bull was always celebrated in egypt with the greatest rejoicings. cambyses called them liars, and, as such, sentenced them to death. he then sent for the priests; received, however, exactly the same answer from them. with the bitterest irony he asked to be allowed to make the acquaintance of this new god, and commanded them to bring him. the bull apis was brought and the king told that he was the progeny of a virgin cow and a moonbeam, that he must be black, with a white triangular spot on the forehead, the likeness of an eagle on his back, and on his side the crescent moon. there must be two kinds of hair on his tail, and on his tongue an excrescence in the form of the sacred beetle scarabaeus. when cambyses saw this deified creature he could discover nothing remarkable in him, and was so enraged that he plunged his sword into its side. as the blood streamed from the wound and the animal fell, he broke out into a piercing laugh, and cried: "ye fools! so your gods are flesh and blood; they can be wounded. such folly is worthy of you. but ye shall find, that it is not so easy to make a fool of me. ho, guards! flog these priests soundly, and kill every one whom you find taking part in this mad celebration." the command was obeyed and fearfully exasperated the egyptians. [according to herod. iii. 29. cambyses' sword slipped and ran into the leg of the sacred bull. as the king died also of a wound in the thigh, this just suits herodotus, who always tries to put the retribution that comes after presumptuous crime in the strongest light; but it is very unlikely that the bull should have died of a mere thigh wound.] apis died of his wound; the memphians buried him secretly in the vaults belonging to the sacred bulls, near the serapeum, and, led by psamtik, attempted an insurrection against the persians. this was very quickly put down, however, and cost psamtik his life,--a life the stains and severities of which deserve to be forgiven, in consideration of his unwearied, ceaseless efforts to deliver his people from a foreign yoke, and his death in the cause of freedom. cambyses' madness had meanwhile taken fresh forms. after the failure of his attempt to restore bartja, (transformed as he fancied into a bow) to his original shape, his irritability increased so frightfully that a single word, or even a look, was sufficient to make him furious. still his true friend and counsellor, croesus, never left him, though the king had more than once given him over to the guards for execution. but the guards knew their master; they took good care not to lay hands on the old man, and felt sure of impunity, as the king would either have forgotten his command, or repented of it by the next day, once, however, the miserable whip bearers paid a fearful penalty for their lenity. cambyses, while rejoicing that croesus was saved, ordered his deliverers to be executed for disobedience without mercy. it would be repugnant to us to repeat all the tales of barbarous cruelties, which are told of cambyses at this insane period of his life; but we cannot resist mentioning a few which seem to us especially characteristic. while sitting at table one day, already somewhat intoxicated, he asked prexaspes what the persians thought of him. the envoy, who in hopes of deadening his tormenting conscience by the performance of noble and dangerous acts, let no opportunity pass of trying to exercise a good influence over his sovereign, answered that they extolled him on every point, but thought he was too much addicted to wine. these words, though spoken half in jest, put the king into a violent passion, and he almost shrieked: "so the persians say, that the wine has taken away my senses, do they? on the contrary, i'll show them that they've lost their own." and as he spoke he bent his bow, took aim for a moment at prexaspes' eldest son, who, as cup-bearer, was standing at the back of the hall waiting for and watching every look of his sovereign, and shot him in the breast. he then gave orders that the boy's body should be opened and examined. the arrow had pierced the centre of his heart. this delighted the senseless tyrant, and he called out with a laugh: "now you see, prexaspes, it's the persians who have lost their judgment, not i. could any one have hit the mark better?" prexaspes stood there, pale and motionless, compelled to watch the horrid scene, like niobe when chained to sipylus. his servile spirit bowed before the ruler's power, instead of arming his right hand with the dagger of revenge, and when the frantic king asked him the same question a second time, he actually answered, pressing his hand on his heart: "a god could not have hit the mark more exactly." a few weeks after this, the king went to sais, and there was shown the rooms formerly occupied by his bride. this brought back all the old painful recollections in full force, and at the same time his clouded memory reminded him, though without any clearness of detail, that amasis had deceived both nitetis and himself. he cursed the dead king and furiously demanded to be taken to the temple of neith, where his mummy was laid. there he tore the embalmed body out of its sarcophagus, caused it to be scourged, to be stabbed with pins, had the hair torn off and maltreated it in every possible way. in conclusion, and contrary to the ancient persian religious law, which held the pollution of pure fire by corpses to be a deadly sin, he caused amasis' dead body to be burnt, and condemned the mummy of his first wife, which lay in a sarcophagus at thebes, her native place, to the same fate. on his return to memphis, cambyses did not shrink from personally illtreating his wife and sister, atossa. he had ordered a combat of wild beasts to take place, during which, amongst other entertainments of the same kind, a dog was to fight with a young lion. the lion had conquered his antagonist, when another dog, the brother of the conquered one, broke away from his chain, attacked the lion, and with the help of the wounded dog, vanquished him. this scene delighted cambyses, but kassandane and atossa, who had been forced by the king's command to be present, began to weep aloud. the tyrant was astonished, and on asking the reason for their tears, received as answer from the impetuous atossa, that the brave creature who had risked its own life to save its brother, reminded her of bartja. she would not say by whom he had been murdered, but his murder had never been avenged. these words so roused the king's anger, and so goaded his conscience, that in a fit of insane fury he struck the daring woman, and might possibly have killed her, if his mother had not thrown herself into his arms and exposed her own body to his mad blows. her voice and action checked his rage, for he had not lost reverence for his mother; but her look of intense anger and contempt, which he clearly saw and could not forget, begot a fresh delusion in his mind. he believed from that moment, that the eyes of women had power to poison him; he started and hid himself behind his companions whenever he saw a woman, and at last commanded that all the female inhabitants of the palace at memphis, his mother not excepted, should be sent back to ecbatana. araspes and gyges were appointed to be their escort thither. ...................... the caravan of queens and princesses had arrived at sais; they alighted at the royal palace. croesus had accompanied them thus far on their way from egypt. kassandane had altered very much during the last few years. grief and suffering had worn deep lines in her once beautiful face, though they had had no power to bow her stately figure. atossa, on the contrary, was more beautiful than ever, notwithstanding all she had suffered. the refractory and impetuous child, the daring spirited girl, had developed into a dignified, animated and determined woman. the serious side of life, and three sad years passed with her ungovernable husband and brother, had been first-rate masters in the school of patience, but they had not been able to alienate her heart from her first love. sappho's friendship had made up to her in some measure for the loss of darius. the young greek had become another creature, since the mysterious departure of her husband. her rosy color and her lovely smile were both gone. but she was wonderfully beautiful, in spite of her paleness, her downcast eyelashes and languid attitude. she looked like ariadne waiting for theseus. longing and expectation lay in every look, in the low tone of her voice, in her measured walk. at the sound of approaching steps, the opening of a door or the unexpected tones of a man's voice, she would start, get up and listen, and then sink back into the old waiting, longing attitude, disappointed but not hopeless. she began to dream again, as she had been so fond of doing in her girlish days. she was her old self only when playing with her child. then the color came back to her cheeks, her eyes sparkled, she seemed once more to live in the present, and not only in the past or future. her child was everything to her. in that little one bartja seemed to be still alive, and she could love the child with all her heart and strength, without taking one iota from her love to him. with this little creature the gods had mercifully given her an aim in life and a link with the lower world, the really precious part of which had seemed to vanish with her vanished husband. sometimes, as she looked into her baby's blue eyes, so wonderfully like bartja's, she thought: why was not she born a boy? he would have grown more like his father from day to day, and at last, if such a thing indeed could ever be, a second bartja would have stood before me. but such thoughts generally ended soon in her pressing the little one closer than ever to her heart, and blaming herself for ingratitude and folly. one day atossa put the same idea in words, exclaiming: "if parmys were only a boy! he would have grown up exactly like his father, and have been a second cyrus for persia." sappho smiled sadly at her friend, and covered the little one with kisses, but kassandane said: "be thankful to the gods, my child, for having given you a daughter. if parmys were a boy, he would be taken from you as soon as he had reached his sixth year, to be brought up with the sons of the other achaemenidae, but your daughter will remain your own for many years." sappho trembled at the mere thought of parting from her child; she pressed its little fair curly head close to her breast, and never found, fault with her treasure again for being a girl. atossa's friendship was a great comfort to her poor wounded heart. with her she could speak of bartja as much and as often as she would, and was always certain of a kind and sympathizing listener. atossa had loved her vanished brother very dearly. and even a stranger would have enjoyed hearing sappho tell of her past happiness. her words rose into real eloquence in speaking of those bright days; she seemed like an inspired poetess. then she would take her lyre, and with her clear, sweet, plaintive voice sing the love-songs of the elder sappho, in which all her own deepest feelings were so truly expressed, and fancy herself once more with her lover sitting under the sweet-scented acanthus in the quiet night, and forget the sad reality of her present life. and when, with a deep sigh, she laid aside the lyre and came back out of this dreamkingdom, the tears were always to be seen in kassandane's eyes, though she did not understand the language in which sappho had been singing, and atossa would bend down and kiss her forehead. thus three long years had passed, during which sappho had seldom seen her grandmother, for, as the mother of parmys, she was by the king's command, forbidden to leave the harem, unless permitted and accompanied either by kassandane or the eunuchs. on the present occasion croesus, who had always loved, and loved her still, like a daughter, had sent for rhodopis to sais. he, as well as kassandane, understood her wish to take leave of this, her dearest and most faithful friend, before setting out for persia; besides which kassandane had a great wish to see one in whose praise she had heard so much. when sappho's tender and sad farewell was over therefore, rhodopis was summoned to the queen-mother. a stranger, who saw these two women together, would have thought both were queens; it was impossible to decide which of the two had most right to the title. croesus, standing as he did in as close a relation to the one as to the other, undertook the office of interpreter, and the ready intellect of rhodopis helped him to carry on an uninterrupted flow of conversation. rhodopis, by her own peculiar attractions, soon won the heart of kassandane, and the queen knew no better way of proving this than by offering, in persian fashion, to grant her some wish. rhodopis hesitated a moment; then raising her hands as if in prayer, she cried: "leave me my sappho, the consolation and beauty of my old age." kassandane smiled sadly. "it is not in my power to grant that wish," she answered. "the laws of persia command, that the children of the achaemenidae shall be brought up at the king's gate. i dare not allow the little parmys, cyrus' only grandchild, to leave me, and, much as sappho loves you, you know she would not part from her child. indeed, she has become so dear to me now, and to my daughter, that though i well understand your wish to have her, i could never allow sappho to leave us." seeing that rhodopis' eyes were filling with tears, kassandane went on: "there is, however, a good way out of our perplexity. leave naukratis, and come with us to persia. there you can spend your last years with us and with your granddaughter, and shall be provided with a royal maintenance." rhodopis shook her head, hoary but still so beautiful, and answered in a suppressed voice: "i thank you, noble queen, for this gracious invitation, but i feel unable to accept it. every fibre of my heart is rooted in greece, and i should be tearing my life out by leaving it forever. i am so accustomed to constant activity, perfect freedom, and a stirring exchange of thought, that i should languish and die in the confinement of a harem. croesus had already prepared me for the gracious proposal you have just made, and i have had a long and difficult battle to fight, before i could decide on resigning my dearest blessing for my highest good. it is not easy, but it is glorious, it is more worthy of the greek name--to live a good and beautiful life, than a happy one--to follow duty rather than pleasure. my heart will follow sappho, but my intellect and experience belong to the greeks; and if you should ever hear that the people of hellas are ruled by themselves alone, by their own gods, their own laws, the beautiful and the good, then you will know that the work on which rhodopis, in league with the noblest and best of her countrymen, has staked her life, is accomplished. be not angry with the greek woman, who confesses that she would rather die free as a beggar than live in bondage as a queen, though envied by the whole world." kassandane listened in amazement. she only understood part of what rhodopis had said, but felt that she had spoken well and nobly, and at the conclusion gave her her hand to kiss. after a short pause, kassandane said: "do what you think right, and remember, that as long as i and my daughter live, your granddaughter will never want for true and faithful love." "your noble countenance and the fame of your great virtue are warrant enough for that." answered rhodopis. "and also," added the queen, "the duty which lies upon me to make good the wrong, that has been done your sappho." she sighed painfully and went on: "the little parmys shall be carefully educated. she seems to have much natural talent, and can sing the songs of her native country already after her mother. i shall do nothing to check her love of music, though, in persia the religious services are the only occasions in which that art is studied by any but the lower classes." at these words rhodopis' face glowed. "will you permit me to speak openly, o queen?" she said. "speak without fear," was kassandane's answer. "when you sighed so painfully just now in speaking of your dear lost son, i thought: perhaps that brave young hero might have been still living, if the persians had understood better how to educate their sons. bartja told me in what that education consisted. to shoot, throw the spear, ride, hunt, speak the truth, and perhaps also to distinguish between the healing and noxious properties of certain plants: that is deemed a sufficient educational provision for a man's life. the greek boys are just as carefully kept to the practice of exercises for hardening and bracing the body; for these exercises are the founders and preservers of health, the physician is only its repairer and restorer. if, however, by constant practice a greek youth were to attain to the strength of a bull, the truth of the deity, and the wisdom of the most learned egyptian priest, we should still look down upon him were he wanting in two things which only early example and music, combined with these bodily exercises, can give: grace and symmetry. you smile because you do not understand me, but i can prove to you that music, which, from what sappho tells me, is not without its moving power for your heart, is as important an element in education as gymnastics, and, strange as it may sound, has an equal share in effecting the perfection of both body and mind. the man who devotes his attention exclusively to music will, if he be of a violent disposition, lose his savage sternness at first; he will become gentle and pliable as metal in the fire. but at last his courage will disappear too; his passionate temper will have changed into irritability, and he will be of little worth as a warrior, the calling and character most desired in your country. if, on the other hand, he confines himself to gymnastics only, he will, like cambyses, excel in manliness and strength; but his mind--here my comparison ceases--will remain obtuse and blind, his perceptions will be confused, he will not listen to reason, but will endeavor to carry everything by force, and, lacking grace and proportion, his life will probably become a succession of rude and violent deeds. on this account we conclude that music is necessary not only for the mind, and gymnastics not only for the body, but that both, working together, elevate and soften the mind and strengthen the body--give manly grace, and graceful manliness." [the fundamental ideas of this speech are drawn from plato's ideal "state."] after a moment's pause rhodopis went on: "the youth who has not received such an education, whose roughness has never been checked even in childhood, who has been allowed to vent his temper on every one, receiving flattery in return and never hearing reproof; who has been allowed to command before he has learnt to obey, and who has been brought up in the belief that splendor, power and riches are the highest good, can never possibly attain to the perfect manhood, which we beseech the gods to grant our boys. and if this unfortunate being happens to have been born with an impetuous disposition, ungovernable and eager passions, these will be only nourished and increased by bodily exercise unaccompanied by the softening influence of music, so that at last a child, who possibly came into the world with good qualities, will, merely through the defects in his education, degenerate into a destructive animal, a sensual self-destroyer, and a mad and furious tyrant." rhodopis had become animated with her subject. she ceased, saw tears in the eyes of the queen, and felt that she had gone too far and had wounded a mother's heart,--a heart full of noble feeling. she touched her robe, kissed its border, and said softly: "forgive me." kassandane looked her forgiveness, courteously saluted rhodopis and prepared to leave the room. on the threshold, however, she stopped and said: "i am not angry. your reproaches are just; but you too must endeavor to forgive, for i can assure you that he who has murdered the happiness of your child and of mine, though the most powerful, is of all mortals the most to be pitied. farewell! should you ever stand in need of ought, remember cyrus' widow, and how she wished to teach you, that the virtues the persians desire most in their children are magnanimity and liberality." after saying this she left the apartment. on the same day rhodopis heard that phanes was dead. he had retired to crotona in the neighborhood of pythagoras and there passed his time in reflection, dying with the tranquillity of a philosopher. she was deeply affected at this news and said to croesus: "greece has lost one of her ablest men, but there are many, who will grow up to be his equals. the increasing power of persia causes me no fear; indeed, i believe that when the barbarous lust of conquest stretches out its hand towards us, our many-headed greece will rise as a giant with one head of divine power, before which mere barbaric strength must bow as surely as body before spirit." three days after this, sappho said farewell for the last time to her grandmother, and followed the queens to persia. notwithstanding the events which afterwards took place, she continued to believe that bartja would return, and full of love, fidelity and tender remembrance, devoted herself entirely to the education of her child and the care of her aged mother-in-law, kassandane. little parmys became very beautiful, and learnt to love the memory of her vanished father next to the gods of her native land, for her mother's tales had brought him as vividly before her as if he had been still alive and present with them. atossa's subsequent good fortune and happiness did not cool her friendship. she always called sappho her sister. the hanging-gardens were the latter's residence in summer, and in her conversations there with kassandane and atossa one name was often mentioned--the name of her, who had been the innocent cause of events which had decided the destinies of great kingdoms and noble lives--the egyptian princess. chapter xvi. here we might end this tale, but that we feel bound to give our readers some account of the last days of cambyses. we have already described the ruin of his mind, but his physical end remains still to be told, and also the subsequent fate of some of the other characters in our history. a short time after the departure of the queens, news reached naukratis that oroetes, the satrap of lydia, had, by a stratagem, allured his old enemy, polykrates, to sardis and crucified him there, thus fulfilling what amasis had prophecied of the tyrant's mournful end. this act the satrap had committed on his own responsibility, events having taken place in the median kingdom which threatened the fall of the achaemenidaean dynasty. the king's long absence in a foreign country had either weakened or entirely dissipated, the fear which the mere mention of his name had formerly inspired in those who felt inclined to rebel. the awe that his subjects had formerly felt for him, vanished at the tidings of his madness, and the news that he had wantonly exposed the lives of thousands of their countrymen to certain death in the deserts of libya and ethiopia, inspired the enraged asiatics with a hatred which, when skilfully fed by the powerful magi, soon roused, first the medes and assyrians, and then the persians, to defection and open insurrection. motives of self-interest led the ambitious high-priest, oropastes, whom cambyses had appointed regent in his absence, to place himself at the head of this movement. he flattered the people by remitting their taxes, by large gifts and larger promises, and finding his clemency gratefully recognized, determined on an imposture, by which he hoped to win the crown of persia for his own family. he had not forgotten the marvellous likeness between his brother gaumata (who had been condemned to lose his ears) and bartja, the son of cyrus, and on hearing that the latter, the universal favorite, as he well knew, of the persian nation, had disappeared, resolved to turn this to account by passing off his brother as the vanished prince, and setting him on the throne in place of cambyses. the hatred felt throughout the entire kingdom towards their insane king, and the love and attachment of the nation to bartja, made this stratagem so easy of accomplishment, that when at last messengers from oropastes arrived in all the provinces of the empire declaring to the discontented citizens that, notwithstanding the rumor they had heard, the younger son of cyrus was still alive, had revolted from his brother, ascended his father's throne and granted to all his subjects freedom from tribute and from military service during a period of three years, the new ruler was acknowledged throughout the kingdom with rejoicings. the pretended bartja, who was fully aware of his brother's mental superiority, had obeyed his directions in every particular, had taken up his residence in the palace of nisaea,--in the plains of media, placed the crown on his head, declared the royal harem his own, and had shown himself once from a distance to the people, who were to recognize in him the murdered bartja. after that time, however, for fear of being at last unmasked, he concealed himself in his palace, giving himself up, after the manner of asiatic monarchs, to every kind of indulgence, while his brother held the sceptre with a firm hand, and conferred all the important offices of state on his friends and family. no sooner did oropastes feel firm ground under his feet, than he despatched the eunuch ixabates to egypt, to inform the army of the change of rulers that had taken place and persuade them to revolt in favor of bartja, who he knew had been idolized by the soldiers. the messenger had been well chosen, fulfilled his mission with much skill, and had already won over a considerable part of the army for the new king, when he was taken prisoner by some syrians, who brought him to memphis in hopes of reward. on arriving in the city of the pyramids he was brought before the king, and promised impunity on condition of revealing the entire truth. the messenger then confirmed the rumor, which had reached egypt, that bartja had ascended the throne of cyrus and had been recognized by the greater part of the empire. cambyses started with terror at these tidings, as one who saw a dead man rise from his grave. he was by this time fully aware that bartja had been murdered by prexaspes at his own command, but in this moment he began to suspect that the envoy had deceived him and spared his brother's life. the thought had no sooner entered his mind than he uttered it, reproaching prexaspes so bitterly with treachery, as to elicit from him a tremendous oath, that he had murdered and buried the unfortunate bartja with his own hand. oropastes' messenger was next asked whether he had seen the new king himself. he answered that he had not, adding that the supposed brother of cambyses had only once appeared in public, and had then shown himself to the people from a distance. on hearing this, prexaspes saw through the whole web of trickery at once, reminded the king of the unhappy misunderstandings to which the marvellous likeness between bartja and gaumata had formerly given rise, and concluded by offering to stake his own life on the correctness of his supposition. the explanation pleased the king, and from that moment his diseased mind was possessed by one new idea to the exclusion of all others--the seizure and slaughter of the magi. the host was ordered to prepare for marching. aryandes,--one of the achaemenidae, was appointed satrap of egypt, and the army started homeward without delay. driven by this new delusion, the king took no rest by day or night, till at last his over-ridden and ill-used horse fell with him, and he was severely wounded in the fall by his own dagger. after lying insensible for some days, he opened his eyes and asked first to see araspes, then his mother, and lastly atossa, although these three had set out on their journey home months before. from all he said it appeared that during the last four years, from the attack of fever until the present accident, he had been living in a kind of sleep. he seemed astonished and pained at hearing what had happened during these years. but of his brother's death he was fully aware. he knew that prexaspes had killed him by his--the king's--orders and had told him that bartja lay buried on the shores of the red sea.--during the night which followed this return to his senses it became clear to himself also, that his mind had been wandering for along time. towards morning he fell into a deep sleep, and this so restored his strength, that on waking he called for croesus and required an exact relation of the events that had passed during the last few years. his old friend and adviser obeyed; he felt that cambyses was still entrusted to his care, and in the hope, faint as it was, of bringing him back to the right way, he did not suppress one of the king's acts of violence in his relation. his joy was therefore great at perceiving, that his words made a deep impression on the newly-awakened mind of the king. with tears in his eyes, and with the ashamed look of a child, he grieved over his wrong deeds and his madness, begged croesus to forgive him, thanked him for having borne so long and faithfully with him, and commissioned him to ask kassandane and sappho especially for forgiveness, but also, atossa and all whom he had unjustly offended. the old man wept too, but his tears were tears of joy and he repeatedly assured cambyses that he would recover and have ample opportunity of making amends for the past. but to all this cambyses shook his head resolutely, and, pale and wan as he looked, begged croesus to have his couch carried on to a rising ground in the open air, and then to summon the achaemenidae. when these orders, in spite of the physicians, had been obeyed, cambyses was raised into an upright sitting position, and began, in a voice which could be heard at a considerable distance: "the time to reveal my great secret has arrived, o ye persians. deceived by a vision, provoked and annoyed by my brother, i caused him to be murdered in my wrath. prexaspes wrought the evil deed by my command, but instead of bringing me the peace i yearned for, that deed has tortured me into madness and death. by this my confession ye will be convinced, that my brother bartja is really dead. the magi have usurped the throne of the achaemenidae. oropastes, whom i left in persia as my vicegerent and his brother gaumata, who resembles bartja so nearly that even croesus, intaphernes and my uncle, the noble hystaspes, were once deceived by the likeness, have placed themselves at their head. woe is me, that i have murdered him who, as my nearest kinsman, should have avenged on the magi this affront to my honor. but i cannot recall him from the dead, and i therefore appoint you the executors of my last will. by the feruer of my dead father, and in the name of all good and pure spirits, i conjure you not to suffer the government to fall into the hands of the unfaithful magi. if they have obtained possession thereof by artifice, wrest it from their hands in like manner; if by force, use force to win it back. obey this my last will, and the earth will yield you its fruits abundantly; your wives, your flocks and herds shall be blessed and freedom shall be your portion. refuse to obey it, and ye shall suffer the corresponding evils; yea, your end, and that of every persian shall be even as mine." after these words the king wept and sank back fainting, on seeing which, the achaemenidae rent their clothes and burst into loud lamentations. a few hours later cambyses died in croesus' arms. nitetis was his last thought; he died with her name on his lips and tears of penitence in his eyes. when the persians had left the unclean corpse, croesus knelt down beside it and cried, raising his hand to heaven: "great cyrus, i have kept my oath. i have remained this miserable man's faithful adviser even unto his end." the next morning the old man betook himself, accompanied by his son gyges, to the town of barene, which belonged to him, and lived there many years as a father to his subjects, revered by darius and praised by all his contemporaries. ........................ after cambyses' death the heads of the seven persian tribes held a council, and resolved, as a first measure, on obtaining certain information as to the person of the usurper. with this view, otanes sent a confidential eunuch to his daughter phaedime, who, as they knew, had come into the possession of the new king with the rest of cambyses' harem. [the names of the seven conspiring chiefs, given by herodotus agree for the most part with those in the cuneiform inscriptions. the names are: otanes, intaphernes, gobryas, megabyzus, aspatines, hydarnes and darius hystaspis. in the inscription otana: vindafrand, gaubaruva, ardumams, vidarna, bagabukhsa and darayavus.] before the messenger returned, the greater part of the army had dispersed, the soldiers seizing this favorable opportunity to return to their homes and families, after so many years of absence. at last, however, the long-expected messenger came back and brought for answer, that the new king had only visited phaedime once, but that during that visit she had, at great personal risk, discovered that he had lost both ears. without this discovery, however, she could assert positively that though there were a thousand points of similarity between the usurper and the murdered bartja, the former was in reality none other than gaumata, the brother of oropastes. her old friend boges had resumed his office of chief of the eunuchs, and had revealed to her the secrets of the magi. the high-priest had met the former keeper of the women begging in the streets of susa, and had restored him to his old office with the words: "you have forfeited your life, but i want men of your stamp." in conclusion. phaedime entreated her father to use every means in his power for the overthrow of the magi, as they treated her with the greatest contempt and she was the most miserable of women. though none of the achaemenidae hall really for a moment believed; that bartja was alive and had seized on the throne, so clear an account of the real person of the usurper was very welcome to them, and they resolved at once to march on nisaea with the remnant of the army and overthrow the magi either by craft or force. they entered the new capital unassailed, and finding that the majority of the people seemed content with the new government, they also pretended to acknowledge the king as the son of cyrus, to whom they were prepared to do homage. the magi, however, were not deceived; they shut themselves up in their palace, assembled an army in the nisaean plain, promised the soldiers high pay, and used every effort to strengthen the belief of the people in gaumata's disguise. on this point no one could do them more injury, or, if he chose, be more useful to them, than prexaspes. he was much looked up to by the persians, and his assurance, that he had not murdered bartja, would have been sufficient to tame the fast-spreading report of the real way in which the youth had met his death. oropastes, therefore, sent for prexaspes, who, since the king's dying words, had been avoided by all the men of his own rank and had led the life of an outlaw, and promised him an immense sum of money, if he would ascend a high tower and declare to the people, assembled in the court beneath, that evil-disposed men had called him bartja's murderer, whereas he had seen the new king with his own eyes and had recognized in him the younger son of his benefactor. prexaspes made no objection to this proposal, took a tender leave of his family while the people were being assembled, uttered a short prayer before the sacred fire-altar and walked proudly to the palace. on his way thither he met the chiefs of the seven tribes and seeing that they avoided him, called out to them: "i am worthy of your contempt, but i will try to deserve your forgiveness." seeing darius look back, he hastened towards him, grasped his hand and said: "i have loved you like a son; take care of my children when i am no more, and use your pinions, winged darius." then, with the same proud demeanor he ascended the tower. many thousands of the citizens of nisaea were within reach of his voice, as he cried aloud: "ye all know that the kings who have, up to the present time, loaded you with honor and glory, belonged to the house of the achaemenidae. cyrus governed you like a real father, cambyses was a stern master, and bartja would have guided you like a bridegroom, if i, with this right hand which i now show you, had not slain him on the shores of the red sea. by mithras, it was with a bleeding heart that i committed this wicked deed, but i did it as a faithful servant in obedience to the king's command. nevertheless, it has haunted me by day and night; for four long years i have been pursued and tormented by the spirits of darkness, who scare sleep from the murderer's couch. i have now resolved to end this painful, despairing existence by a worthy deed, and though even this may procure me no mercy at the bridge of chinvat, in the mouths of men, at least, i shall have redeemed my honorable name from the stain with which i defiled it. know then, that the man who gives himself out for the son of cyrus, sent me hither; he promised me rich rewards if i would deceive you by declaring him to be bartja, the son of the achaemenidae. but i scorn his promises and swear by mithras and the feruers of the kings, the most solemn oaths i am acquainted with, that the man who is now ruling you is none other than the magian gaumata, he who was deprived of his ears, the brother of the king's vicegerent and high-priest, oropastes, whom ye all know. if it be your will to forget all the glory ye owe to the achaemenidae, if to this ingratitude ye choose to add your own degradation, then acknowledge these creatures and call them your kings; but if ye despise a lie and are ashamed to obey worthless impostors, drive the magi from the throne before mithras has left the heavens, and proclaim the noblest of the achaemenidae, darius, the exalted son of hystaspes, who promises to become a second cyrus, as your king. and now, in order that ye may believe my words and not suspect that darius sent me hither to win you over to his side, i will commit a deed, which must destroy every doubt and prove that the truth and glory of the achaemenidae are clearer to me, than life itself. blessed be ye if ye follow my counsels, but curses rest upon you, if ye neglect to reconquer the throne from the magi and revenge yourselves upon them.--behold, i die a true and honorable man!" with these words he ascended the highest pinnacle of the tower and cast himself down head foremost, thus expiating the one crime of his life by an honorable death. the dead silence with which the people in the court below had listened to him, was now broken by shrieks of rage and cries for vengeance. they burst open the gates of the palace and were pressing in with cries of "death to the magi," when the seven princes of the persians appeared in front of the raging crowd to resist their entrance. at sight of the achaemenidae the citizens broke into shouts of joy, and cried more impetuously than ever, "down with the magi! victory to king darius!" the son of hystaspes was then carried by the crowd to a rising ground, from which he told the people that the magi had been slain by the achaemenidae, as liars and usurpers. fresh cries of joy arose in answer to these words, and when at last the bleeding heads of oropastes and gaumata were shown to the crowd, they rushed with horrid yells through the streets of the city, murdering every magian they could lay hold of. the darkness of night alone was able to stop this awful massacre. four days later, darius, the son of hystaspes, was chosen as king by the heads of the achaemenidae, in consideration of his high birth and noble character, and received by the persian nation with enthusiasm. darius had killed gaumata with his own hand, and the highpriest had received his death-thrust from the hand of megabyzus, the father of zopyrus. while prexaspes was haranguing the people, the seven conspiring persian princes, otanes, intaphernes, gobryas, megabyzus, aspatines, hydarnes and darius, (as representative of his aged father hystaspes), had entered the palace by a carelessly-guarded gate, sought out the part of the building occupied by the magi, and then, assisted by their own knowledge of the palace, and the fact that most of the guards had been sent to keep watch over the crowd assembled to hear prexaspes easily penetrated to the apartments in which at that moment they were to be found. here they were resisted by a few eunuchs, headed by boges, but these were overpowered and killed to a man. darius became furious on seeing boges, and killed him at once. hearing the dying cries of these eunuchs, the magi rushed to the spot and prepared to defend themselves. oropastes snatched a lance from the fallen boges, thrust out one of intaphernes' eyes and wounded aspatines in the thigh, but was stabbed by megabyzus. gaumata fled into another apartment and tried to bar the door, but was followed too soon by darius and gobryas; the latter seized, threw him, and kept him down by the weight of his own body, crying to darius, who was afraid of making a false stroke in the half-light, and so wounding his companion instead of gaumata, "strike boldly, even if you should stab us both." darius obeyed, and fortunately only hit the magian. thus died oropastes, the high-priest, and his brother gaumata, better known under the name of the "pseudo" or "pretended smerdis." a few weeks after darius' election to the throne, which the people said had been marvellously influenced by divine miracles and the clever cunning of a groom, he celebrated his coronation brilliantly at pasargadae, and with still more splendor, his marriage with his beloved atossa. the trials of her life had ripened her character, and she proved a faithful, beloved and respected companion to her husband through the whole of that active and glorious life, which, as prexaspes had foretold, made him worthy of the names by which he was afterwards known--darius the great, and a second cyrus. [atossa is constantly mentioned as the favorite wife of darius, and be appointed her son xerxes to be his successor, though he had three elder sons by the daughter of gobryas. herodotus (vii. 3.) speaks with emphasis of the respect and consideration in which atossa was held, and aeschylus, in his persians, mentions her in her old age, as the much-revered and noble matron.] as a general he was circumspect and brave, and at the same time understood so thoroughly how to divide his enormous realm, and to administer its affairs, that he must be classed with the greatest organizers of all times and countries. that his feeble successors were able to keep this asiatic colossus of different countries together for two hundred years after his death, was entirely owing to darius. he was liberal of his own, but sparing of his subjects' treasures, and made truly royal gifts without demanding more than was his due. he introduced a regular system of taxation, in place of the arbitrary exactions practised under cyrus and cambyses, and never allowed himself to be led astray in the carrying out of what seemed to him right, either by difficulties or by the ridicule of the achaemenidae, who nicknamed him the "shopkeeper," on account of what seemed, to their exclusively military tastes, his petty financial measures. it is by no means one of his smallest merits, that he introduced one system of coinage through his entire empire, and consequently through half the then known world. darius respected the religions and customs of other nations. when the writing of cyrus, of the existence of which cambyses had known nothing, was found in the archives of ecbatana, he allowed the jews to carry on the building of their temple to jehovah; he also left the ionian cities free to govern their own communities independently. indeed, he would hardly have sent his army against greece, if the athenians had not insulted him. in egypt he had learnt much; among other things, the art of managing the exchequer of his kingdom wisely; for this reason he held the egyptians in high esteem, and granted them many privileges, amongst others a canal to connect the nile with the red sea, which was greatly to the advantage of their commerce. [traces of this canal can be found as early as the days of setos i; his son rameses ii. caused the works to be continued. under necho they were recommenced, and possibly finished by darius. in the time of the ptolemies, at all events, the canal was already completed. herod. ii. 158. diod. i. 33. the french, in undertaking to reconstruct the suez canal, have had much to encounter from the unfriendly commercial policy of the english and their influence over the internal affairs of egypt, but the unwearied energy and great talent of monsr. de lesseps and the patriotism of the french nation have at last succeeded in bringing their great work to a successful close. whether it will pay is another question. see g. ebers, der kanal von suez. nordische revue, october 1864. the maritime canal connecting the mediterranean with the red sea has also been completed since 1869. we were among those, who attended the brilliant inauguration ceremonies, and now willingly recall many of the doubts expressed in our work 'durch gosen zum sinai'. the number of ships passing through the canal is constantly increasing.] during the whole of his reign, darius endeavored to make amends for the severity with which cambyses had treated the egyptians; even in the later years of his life he delighted to study the treasures of their wisdom, and no one was allowed to attack either their religion or customs, as long as he lived. the old high-priest neithotep enjoyed the king's favor to the last, and darius often made use of his wise old master's astrological knowledge. the goodness and clemency of their new ruler was fully acknowledged by the egyptians; they called him a deity, as they had called their own kings, and yet, in the last years of his reign, their desire for independence led them to forget gratitude and to try to shake off his gentle yoke, which was only oppressive because it had originally been forced on them. [the name of darius occurs very often on the monuments as ntariusch. it is most frequently found in the inscriptions on the temple in the oasis el-khargah, recently photographed by g. rohlfs. the egypto persian memorial fragments, bearing inscriptions in the hieroglyphic and cuneiform characters are very interesting. darius' name in egyptian was generally "ra, the beloved of ammon." on a porcelain vessel in florence, and in some papyri in paris and florence he is called by the divine titles of honor given to the pharaohs.] their generous ruler and protector did not live to see the end of this struggle. [the first rebellion in egypt, which broke out under aryandes, the satrap appointed by cambyses, was put down by darius in person. he visited egypt, and promised 100 talents (l22,500.) to any one who would find a new apis. polyaen. vii. ii. 7. no second outbreak took place until 486 b.c. about 4 years before the death of darius. herod. vi i. xerxes conquered the rebels two years after his accession, and appointed his brother achaemenes satrap of egypt.] it was reserved for xerxes, the successor and son of darius and atossa, to bring back the inhabitants of the nile valley to a forced and therefore insecure obedience. darius left a worthy monument of his greatness in the glorious palace which he built on mount rachmed, the ruins of which are the wonder and admiration of travellers to this day. six thousand egyptian workmen, who had been sent to asia by cambyses, took part in the work and also assisted in building a tomb for darius and his successors, the rocky and almost inaccessible chambers of which have defied the ravages of time, and are now the resort of innumerable wild pigeons. he caused the history of his deeds to be cut, (in the cuneiform character and in the persian, median and assyrian languages), on the polished side of the rock of bisitun or behistan, not far from the spot where he saved atossa's life. the persian part of this inscription can still be deciphered with certainty, and contains an account of the events related in the last few chapters, very nearly agreeing with our own and that of herodotus. the following sentences occur amongst others: "thus saith darius the king: that which i have done, was done by the grace of auramazda in every way. i fought nineteen battles after the rebellion of the kings. by the mercy of auramazda i conquered them. i took nine kings captive. one was a median, gaumata by name. he lied and said: 'i am bardiya (bartja), the son of cyrus.' he caused persia to rebel." some distance lower down, he names the chiefs who helped him to dethrone the magi, and in another place the inscription has these words: "thus saith the king darius: that which i have done was done in every way by the grace of auramazda. auramazda helped me, and such other gods as there be. auramazda and the other gods gave me help, because i was not swift to anger, nor a liar, nor a violent ruler, neither i nor my kinsmen. i have shown favor unto him who helped my brethren, and i have punished severely him who was my enemy. thou who shalt be king after me, be not merciful unto him who is a liar or a rebel, but punish him with a severe punishment. thus saith darius the king: thou who shalt hereafter behold this tablet which i have written, or these pictures, destroy them not, but so long as thou shalt live preserve them, &c." it now only remains to be told that zopyrus, the son of megabyzus, continued to the last the king's most faithful friend. a courtier once showed the king a pomegranate, and asked him of what one gift of fortune he would like so many repetitions, as there were seeds in that fruit. without a moment's hesitation darius answered, "of my zopyrus."--[plutarch] the following story will prove that zopyrus, on his part, well understood how to return his royal friend's kindness. after the death of cambyses, babylon revolted from the persian empire. darius besieged the city nine months in vain, and was about to raise the siege, when one day zopyrus appeared before him bleeding, and deprived of his ears and nose, and explained that he had mutilated himself thus in order to cheat the babylonians, who knew him well, as he had formerly been on intimate terms with their daughters. he said he wished to tell the haughty citizens, that darius had thus disfigured him, and that he had come to them for help in revenging himself. he thought they would then place troops at his disposal, with which he intended to impose upon them by making a few successful sallies at first. his ultimate intention was to get possession of the keys, and open the semiramis gate to his friends. these words, which were spoken in a joking tone, contrasted so sadly with the mutilated features of his once handsome friend, that darius wept, and when at last the almost impregnable fortress was really won by zopyrus' stratagem, he exclaimed: "i would give a hundred babylons, if my zopyrus had not thus mutilated himself." he then appointed his friend lord of the giant city, gave him its entire revenues, and honored him every year with the rarest presents. in later days he used to say that, with the exception of cyrus, who had no equal, no man had ever performed so generous a deed as zopyrus. [herod. iii. 160. among other presents zopyrus received a gold hand-mill weighing six talents, the most honorable and distinguished gift a persian monarch could bestow upon a subject. according to ktesias, megabaezus received this gift from xerxes.] few rulers possessed so many self-sacrificing friends as darius, because few understood so well how to be grateful. when syloson, the brother of the murdered polykrates, came to susa and reminded the king of his former services, darius received him as a friend, placed ships and troops at his service, and helped him to recover samos. the samians made a desperate resistance, and said, when at last they were obliged to yield: "through syloson we have much room in our land." rhodopis lived to hear of the murder of hipparchus, the tyrant of athens, by harmodius and aristogiton, and died at last in the arms of her best friends, theopompus the milesian and kallias the athenian, firm in her belief of the high calling of her countrymen. all naukratis mourned for her, and kallias sent a messenger to susa, to inform the king and sappho of her death. a few months later the satrap of egypt received the following letter from the hand of the king: "inasmuch as we ourselves knew and honored rhodopis, the greek, who has lately died in naukratis,--inasmuch as her granddaughter, as widow of the lawful heir to the persian throne, enjoys to this day the rank and honors of a queen,--and lastly, inasmuch as i have lately taken the great-grandchild of the same rhodopis, parmys, the daughter of bartja and sappho, to be my third lawful wife, it seems to me just to grant royal honors to the ancestress of two queens. i therefore command thee to cause the ashes of rhodopis, whom we have always esteemed as the greatest and rarest among women, to be buried in the greatest and rarest of all monuments, namely, in one of the pyramids. the costly urn, which thou wilt receive herewith, is sent by sappho to preserve the ashes of the deceased." given in the new imperial palace at persepolis. darius, son of hystaspes. king. etext editor's bookmarks: a noble mind can never swim with the stream age is inquisitive apis the progeny of a virgin cow and a moonbeam be not merciful unto him who is a liar or a rebel canal to connect the nile with the red sea i was not swift to anger, nor a liar, nor a violent ruler introduced a regular system of taxation-darius numbers are the only certain things resistance always brings out a man's best powers this ebook was produced by david widger <widger@cecomet.net> [note: there is a short list of bookmarks, or pointers, at the end of the file for those who may wish to sample the author's ideas before making an entire meal of them. d.w.] uarda volume 2. by georg ebers chapter v. the night during which the princess bent-anat and her followers had knocked at the gate of the house of seti was past. the fruitful freshness of the dawn gave way to the heat, which began to pour down from the deep blue cloudless vault of heaven. the eye could no longer gaze at the mighty globe of light whose rays pierced the fine white dust which hung over the declivity of the hills that enclosed the city of the dead on the west. the limestone rocks showed with blinding clearness, the atmosphere quivered as if heated over a flame; each minute the shadows grew shorter and their outlines sharper. all the beasts which we saw peopling the necropolis in the evening had now withdrawn into their lurking places; only man defied the heat of the summer day. undisturbed he accomplished his daily work, and only laid his tools aside for a moment, with a sigh, when a cooling breath blew across the overflowing stream and fanned his brow. the harbor or clock where those landed who crossed from eastern thebes was crowded with barks and boats waiting to return. the crews of rowers and steersmen who were attached to priestly brotherhoods or noble houses, were enjoying a rest till the parties they had brought across the nile drew towards them again in long processions. under a wide-spreading sycamore a vendor of eatables, spirituous drinks, and acids for cooling the water, had set up his stall, and close to him, a crowd of boatmen, and drivers shouted and disputed as they passed the time in eager games at morra. [in latin "micare digitis." a game still constantly played in the south of europe, and frequently represented by the egyptians. the games depicted in the monuments are collected by minutoli, in the leipziger illustrirte zeitung, 1852.] many sailors lay on the decks of the vessels, others on the shore; here in the thin shade of a palm tree, there in the full blaze of the sun, from those burning rays they protected themselves by spreading the cotton cloths, which served them for cloaks, over their faces. between the sleepers passed bondmen and slaves, brown and black, in long files one behind the other, bending under the weight of heavy burdens, which had to be conveyed to their destination at the temples for sacrifice, or to the dealers in various wares. builders dragged blocks of stone, which had come from the quarries of chennu and suan, [the syene of the greeks, non, called assouan at the first cataract.] on sledges to the site of a new temple; laborers poured water under the runners, that the heavily loaded and dried wood should not take fire. all these working men were driven with sticks by their overseers, and sang at their labor; but the voices of the leaders sounded muffled and hoarse, though, when after their frugal meal they enjoyed an hour of repose, they might be heard loud enough. their parched throats refused to sing in the noontide of their labor. thick clouds of gnats followed these tormented gangs, who with dull and spirit-broken endurance suffered alike the stings of the insects and the blows of their driver. the gnats pursued them to the very heart of the city of the dead, where they joined themselves to the flies and wasps, which swarmed in countless crowds around the slaughter houses, cooks' shops, stalls of fried fish, and booths of meat, vegetable, honey, cakes and drinks, which were doing a brisk business in spite of the noontide heat and the oppressive atmosphere heated and filled with a mixture of odors. the nearer one got to the libyan frontier, the quieter it became, and the silence of death reigned in the broad north-west valley, where in the southern slope the father of the reigning king had caused his tomb to be hewn, and where the stone-mason of the pharaoh had prepared a rock tomb for him. a newly made road led into this rocky gorge, whose steep yellow and brown walls seemed scorched by the sun in many blackened spots, and looked like a ghostly array of shades that had risen from the tombs in the night and remained there. at the entrance of this valley some blocks of stone formed a sort of doorway, and through this, indifferent to the heat of day, a small but brilliant troop of the men was passing. four slender youths as staff bearers led the procession, each clothed only with an apron and a flowing head-cloth of gold brocade; the mid-day sun played on their smooth, moist, red-brown skins, and their supple naked feet hardly stirred the stones on the road. behind them followed an elegant, two-wheeled chariot, with two prancing brown horses bearing tufts of red and blue feathers on their noble heads, and seeming by the bearing of their arched necks and flowing tails to express their pride in the gorgeous housings, richly embroidered in silver, purple, and blue and golden ornaments, which they wore--and even more in their beautiful, royal charioteer, bent-anat, the daughter of rameses, at whose lightest word they pricked their ears, and whose little hand guided them with a scarcely perceptible touch. two young men dressed like the other runners followed the chariot, and kept the rays of the sun off the face of their mistress with large fans of snow-white ostrich feathers fastened to long wands. by the side of bent-anat, so long as the road was wide enough to allow of it, was carried nefert, the wife of mena, in her gilt litter, borne by eight tawny bearers, who, running with a swift and equally measured step, did not remain far behind the trotting horses of the princess and her fan-bearers. both the women, whom we now see for the first time in daylight, were of remarkable but altogether different beauty. the wife of mena had preserved the appearance of a maiden; her large almond-shaped eyes had a dreamy surprised look out from under her long eyelashes, and her figure of hardly the middle-height had acquired a little stoutness without losing its youthful grace. no drop of foreign blood flowed in her veins, as could be seen in the color of her skin, which was of that fresh and equal line which holds a medium between golden yellow and bronze brown--and which to this day is so charming in the maidens of abyssinia--in her straight nose, her well-formed brow, in her smooth but thick black hair, and in the fineness of her hands and feet, which were ornamented with circles of gold. the maiden princess next to her had hardly reached her nineteenth year, and yet something of a womanly self-consciousness betrayed itself in her demeanor. her stature was by almost a head taller than that of her friend, her skin was fairer, her blue eyes kind and frank, without tricks of glance, but clear and honest, her profile was noble but sharply cut, and resembled that of her father, as a landscape in the mild and softening light of the moon resembles the same landscape in the broad clear light of day. the scarcely perceptible aquiline of her nose, she inherited from her semitic ancestors, [many portraits have come down to us of rameses: the finest is the noble statue preserved at turin. a likeness has been detected between its profile, with its slightly aquiline nose, and that of napoleon i.] as well as the slightly waving abundance of her brown hair, over which she wore a blue and white striped silk kerchief; its carefully-pleated folds were held in place by a gold ring, from which in front a horned urarus [a venomous egyptian serpent which was adopted as the symbol of sovereign power, in consequence of its swift effects for life or death. it is never wanting to the diadem of the pharaohs.] raised its head crowned with a disk of rubies. from her left temple a large tress, plaited with gold thread, hung down to her waist, the sign of her royal birth. she wore a purple dress of fine, almost transparent stuff, that was confined with a gold belt and straps. round her throat was fastened a necklace like a collar, made of pearls and costly stones, and hanging low down on her well-formed bosom. behind the princess stood her charioteer, an old officer of noble birth. three litters followed the chariot of the princess, and in each sat two officers of the court; then came a dozen of slaves ready for any service, and lastly a crowd of wand-bearers to drive off the idle populace, and of lightly-armed soldiers, who--dressed only in the apron and head-cloth-each bore a dagger-shaped sword in his girdle, an axe in his right hand, and in his left; in token of his peaceful service, a palm-branch. like dolphins round a ship, little girls in long shirt-shaped garments swarmed round the whole length of the advancing procession, bearing water-jars on their steady heads, and at a sign from any one who was thirsty were ready to give him a drink. with steps as light as the gazelle they often outran the horses, and nothing could be more graceful than the action with which the taller ones bent over with the water-jars held in both arms to the drinker. the courtiers, cooled and shaded by waving fans, and hardly perceiving the noontide heat, conversed at their ease about indifferent matters, and the princess pitied the poor horses, who were tormented as they ran, by annoying gadflies; while the runners and soldiers, the litter-bearers and fan-bearers, the girls with their jars and the panting slaves, were compelled to exert themselves under the rays of the mid-day sun in the service of their masters, till their sinews threatened to crack and their lungs to burst their bodies. at a spot where the road widened, and where, to the right, lay the steep cross-valley where the last kings of the dethroned race were interred, the procession stopped at a sign from paaker, who preceded the princess, and who drove his fiery black syrian horses with so heavy a hand that the bloody foam fell from their bits. when the mohar had given the reins into the hand of a servant, he sprang from his chariot, and after the usual form of obeisance said to the princess: "in this valley lies the loathsome den of the people, to whom thou, o princess, dost deign to do such high honor. permit me to go forward as guide to thy party." "we will go on foot," said the princess, "and leave our followers behind here," paaker bowed, bent-anat threw the reins to her charioteer and sprang to the ground, the wife of mena and the courtiers left their litters, and the fan-bearers and chamberlains were about to accompany their mistress on foot into the little valley, when she turned round and ordered, "remain behind, all of you. only paaker and nefert need go with me." the princess hastened forward into the gorge, which was oppressive with the noon-tide heat; but she moderated her steps as soon as she observed that the frailer nefert found it difficult to follow her. at a bend in the road paaker stood still, and with him bent-anat and nefert. neither of them had spoken a word during their walk. the valley was perfectly still and deserted; on the highest pinnacles of the cliff, which rose perpendicularly to the right, sat a long row of vultures, as motionless as if the mid-day heat had taken all strength out of their wings. paaker bowed before them as being the sacred animals of the great goddess of thebes, [she formed a triad with anion and chunsu under the name of muth. the great "sanctuary of the kingdom"--the temple of karnak--was dedicated to them.] and the two women silently followed his example. "there," said the mohar, pointing to two huts close to the left cliff of the valley, built of bricks made of dried nile-mud, "there, the neatest, next the cave in the rock." bent-anat went towards the solitary hovel with a beating heart; paaker let the ladies go first. a few steps brought them to an ill-constructed fence of canestalks, palm-branches, briars and straw, roughly thrown together. a heart-rending cry of pain from within the hut trembled in the air and arrested the steps of the two women. nefert staggered and clung to her stronger companion, whose beating heart she seemed to hear. both stood a few minutes as if spellbound, then the princess called paaker, and said: "you go first into the house." paaker bowed to the ground. "i will call the man out," he said, "but how dare we step over his threshold. thou knowest such a proceeding will defile us." nefert looked pleadingly at bent-anat, but the princess repeated her command. "go before me; i have no fear of defilement." the mohar still hesitated. "wilt thou provoke the gods?--and defile thyself?" but the princess let him say no more; she signed to nefert, who raised her hands in horror and aversion; so, with a shrug of her shoulders, she left her companion behind with the mohar, and stepped through an opening in the hedge into a little court, where lay two brown goats; a donkey with his forelegs tied together stood by, and a few hens were scattering the dust about in a vain search for food. soon she stood, alone, before the door of the paraschites' hovel. no one perceived her, but she could not take her eyes-accustomed only to scenes of order and splendor--from the gloomy but wonderfully strange picture, which riveted her attention and her sympathy. at last she went up to the doorway, which was too low for her tall figure. her heart shrunk painfully within her, and she would have wished to grow smaller, and, instead of shining in splendor, to have found herself wrapped in a beggar's robe. could she step into this hovel decked with gold and jewels as if in mockery?--like a tyrant who should feast at a groaning table and compel the starving to look on at the banquet. her delicate perception made her feel what trenchant discord her appearance offered to all that surrounded her, and the discord pained her; for she could not conceal from herself that misery and external meanness were here entitled to give the key-note and that her magnificence derived no especial grandeur from contrast with all these modest accessories, amid dust, gloom, and suffering, but rather became disproportionate and hideous, like a giant among pigmies. she had already gone too far to turn back, or she would willingly have done so. the longer she gazed into the but, the more deeply she felt the impotence of her princely power, the nothingness of the splendid gifts with which she approached it, and that she might not tread the dusty floor of this wretched hovel but in all humility, and to crave a pardon. the room into which she looked was low but not very small, and obtained from two cross lights a strange and unequal illumination; on one side the light came through the door, and on the other through an opening in the time-worn ceiling of the room, which had never before harbored so many and such different guests. all attention was concentrated on a group, which was clearly lighted up from the doorway. on the dusty floor of the room cowered an old woman, with dark weatherbeaten features and tangled hair that had long been grey. her black-blue cotton shirt was open over her withered bosom, and showed a blue star tattooed upon it. in her lap she supported with her hands the head of a girl, whose slender body lay motionless on a narrow, ragged mat. the little white feet of the sick girl almost touched the threshold. near to them squatted a benevolent-looking old man, who wore only a coarse apron, and sitting all in a heap, bent forward now and then, rubbing the child's feet with his lean hands and muttering a few words to himself. the sufferer wore nothing but a short petticoat of coarse light-blue stuff. her face, half resting on the lap of the old woman, was graceful and regular in form, her eyes were half shut-like those of a child, whose soul is wrapped in some sweet dream-but from her finely chiselled lips there escaped from time to time a painful, almost convulsive sob. an abundance of soft, but disordered reddish fair hair, in which clung a few withered flowers, fell over the lap of the old woman and on to the mat where she lay. her cheeks were white and rosy-red, and when the young surgeon nebsecht--who sat by her side, near his blind, stupid companion, the litany-singer--lifted the ragged cloth that had been thrown over her bosom, which had been crushed by the chariot wheel, or when she lifted her slender arm, it was seen that she had the shining fairness of those daughters of the north who not unfrequently came to thebes among the king's prisoners of war. the two physicians sent hither from the house of seti sat on the left side of the maiden on a little carpet. from time to time one or the other laid his hand over the heart of the sufferer, or listened to her breathing, or opened his case of medicaments, and moistened the compress on her wounded breast with a white ointment. in a wide circle close to the wall of the room crouched several women, young and old, friends of the paraschites, who from time to time gave expression to their deep sympathy by a piercing cry of lamentation. one of them rose at regular intervals to fill the earthen bowl by the side of the physician with fresh water. as often as the sudden coolness of a fresh compress on her hot bosom startled the sick girl, she opened her eyes, but always soon to close them again for longer interval, and turned them at first in surprise, and then with gentle reverence, towards a particular spot. these glances had hitherto been unobserved by him to whom they were directed. leaning against the wall on the right hand side of the room, dressed in his long, snow-white priest's robe, pentaur stood awaiting the princess. his head-dress touched the ceiling, and the narrow streak of light, which fell through the opening in the roof, streamed on his handsome head and his breast, while all around him was veiled in twilight gloom. once more the suffering girl looked up, and her glance this time met the eye of the young priest, who immediately raised his hand, and halfmechanically, in a low voice, uttered the words of blessing; and then once more fixed his gaze on the dingy floor, and pursued his own reflections. some hours since he had come hither, obedient to the orders of ameni, to impress on the princess that she had defiled herself by touching a paraschites, and could only be cleansed again by the hand of the priests. he had crossed the threshold of the paraschites most reluctantly, and the thought that he, of all men, had been selected to censure a deed of the noblest humanity, and to bring her who had done it to judgment, weighed upon him as a calamity. in his intercourse with his friend nebsecht, pentaur had thrown off many fetters, and given place to many thoughts that his master would have held sinful and presumptuous; but at the same time he acknowledged the sanctity of the old institutions, which were upheld by those whom lie had learned to regard as the divinely-appointed guardians of the spiritual possessions of god's people; nor was he wholly free from the pride of caste and the haughtiness which, with prudent intent, were inculcated in the priests. he held the common man, who put forth his strength to win a maintenance for his belongings by honest bodily labor--the merchant--the artizan--the peasant, nay even the warrior, as far beneath the godly brotherhood who strove for only spiritual ends; and most of all he scorned the idler, given up to sensual enjoyments. he held him unclean who had been branded by the law; and how should it have been otherwise? these people, who at the embalming of the dead opened the body of the deceased, had become despised for their office of mutilating the sacred temple of the soul; but no paraschites chose his calling of his own free will.--[diodorus i, 91]--it was handed down from father to son, and he who was born a paraschites--so he was taught--had to expiate an old guilt with which his soul had long ago burdened itself in a former existence, within another body, and which had deprived it of absolution in the nether world. it had passed through various animal forms, and now began a new human course in the body of a paraschites, once more to stand after death in the presence of the judges of the under-world. pentaur had crossed the threshold of the man he despised with aversion; the man himself, sitting at the feet of the suffering girl, had exclaimed as he saw the priest approaching the hovel: "yet another white robe! does misfortune cleanse the unclean?" pentaur had not answered the old man, who on his part took no further notice of him, while he rubbed the girl's feet by order of the leech; and his hands impelled by tender anxiety untiringly continued the same movement, as the water-wheel in the nile keeps up without intermission its steady motion in the stream. "does misfortune cleanse the unclean?" pentaur asked himself. "does it indeed possess a purifying efficacy, and is it possible that the gods, who gave to fire the power of refining metals and to the winds power to sweep the clouds from the sky, should desire that a man--made in their own image--that a man should be tainted from his birth to his death with an indelible stain?" he looked at the face of the paraschites, and it seemed to him to resemble that of his father. this startled him! and when he noticed how the woman, in whose lap the girl's head was resting, bent over the injured bosom of the child to catch her breathing, which she feared had come to a stand-still--with the anguish of a dove that is struck down by a hawk--he remembered a moment in his own childhood, when he had lain trembling with fever on his little bed. what then had happened to him, or had gone on around him, he had long forgotten, but one image was deeply imprinted on his soul, that of the face of his mother bending over him in deadly anguish, but who had gazed on her sick boy not more tenderly, or more anxiously, than this despised woman on her suffering child. "there is only one utterly unselfish, utterly pure and utterly divine love," said he to himself, "and that is the love of isis for horus--the love of a mother for her child. if these people were indeed so foul as to defile every thing they touch, how would this pure, this tender, holy impulse show itself even in them in all its beauty and perfection?" "still," he continued, "the celestials have implanted maternal love in the breast of the lioness, of the typhonic river-horse of the nile." he looked compassionately at the wife of the paraschites. he saw her dark face as she turned it away from the sick girl. she had felt her breathe, and a smile of happiness lighted up her old features; she nodded first to the surgeon, and then with a deep sigh of relief to her husband, who, while he did not cease the movement of his left hand, held up his right hand in prayer to heaven, and his wife did the same. it seemed to pentaur that he could see the souls of these two, floating above the youthful creature in holy union as they joined their hands; and again he thought of his parents' house, of the hour when his sweet, only sister died. his mother had thrown herself weeping on the pale form, but his father had stamped his foot and had thrown back his head, sobbing and striking his forehead with his fist. "how piously submissive and thankful are these unclean ones!" thought pentaur; and repugnance for the old laws began to take root in his heart. "maternal love may exist in the hyaena, but to seek and find god pertains only to man, who has a noble aim. up to the limits of eternity--and god is eternal!--thought is denied to animals; they cannot even smile. even men cannot smile at first, for only physical life--an animal soul--dwells in them; but soon a share of the world's soul--beaming intelligence-works within them, and first shows itself in the smile of a child, which is as pure as the light and the truth from which it comes. the child of the paraschites smiles like any other creature born of woman, but how few aged men there are, even among the initiated, who can smile as innocently and brightly as this woman who has grown grey under open ill-treatment." deep sympathy began to fill his heart, and he knelt down by the side of the poor child, raised her arm, and prayed fervently to that one who had created the heavens and who rules the world--to that one, whom the mysteries of faith forbade him to name; and not to the innumerable gods, whom the people worshipped, and who to him were nothing but incarnations of the attributes of the one and only god of the initiated--of whom he was one--who was thus brought down to the comprehension of the laity. he raised his soul to god in passionate emotion; but he prayed, not for the child before him and for her recovery, but rather for the whole despised race, and for its release from the old ban, for the enlightenment of his own soul, imprisoned in doubts, and for strength to fulfil his hard task with discretion. the gaze of the sufferer followed him as he took up his former position. the prayer had refreshed his soul and restored him to cheerfulness of spirit. he began to reflect what conduct he must observe towards the princess. he had not met bent-anat for the first time yesterday; on the contrary, he had frequently seen her in holiday processions, and at the high festivals in the necropolis, and like all his young companions had admired her proud beauty--admired it as the distant light of the stars, or the evening-glow on the horizon. now he must approach this lady with words of reproof. he pictured to himself the moment when he must advance to meet her, and could not help thinking of his little tutor chufu, above whom he towered by two heads while he was still a boy, and who used to call up his admonitions to him from below. it was true, he himself was tall and slim, but he felt as if to-day he were to play the part towards bent-anat of the much-laughed-at little tutor. his sense of the comic was touched, and asserted itself at this serious moment, and with such melancholy surroundings. life is rich in contrasts, and a susceptible and highly-strung human soul would break down like a bridge under the measured tread of soldiers, if it were allowed to let the burden of the heaviest thoughts and strongest feelings work upon it in undisturbed monotony; but just as in music every key-note has its harmonies, so when we cause one chord of our heart to vibrate for long, all sorts of strange notes respond and clang, often those which we least expect. pentaur's glance flew round the one low, over-filled room of the paraschites' hut, and like a lightning flash the thought, "how will the princess and her train find room here?" flew through his mind. his fancy was lively, and vividly brought before him how the daughter of the pharaoh with a crown on her proud head would bustle into the silent chamber, how the chattering courtiers would follow her, and how the women by the walls, the physicians by the side of the sick girl, the sleek white cat from the chest where she sat, would rise and throng round her. there must be frightful confusion. then he imagined how the smart lords and ladies would keep themselves far from the unclean, hold their slender hands over their mouths and noses, and suggest to the old folks how they ought to behave to the princess who condescended to bless them with her presence. the old woman must lay down the head that rested in her bosom, the paraschites must drop the feet he so anxiously rubbed, on the floor, to rise and kiss the dust before bent-anat. whereupon--the "mind's eye" of the young priest seemed to see it all--the courtiers fled before him, pushing each other, and all crowded together into a corner, and at last the princess threw a few silver or gold rings into the laps of the father and mother, and perhaps to the girl too, and he seemed to hear the courtiers all cry out: "hail to the gracious daughter of the sun!"--to hear the joyful exclamations of the crowd of women--to see the gorgeous apparition leave the hut of the despised people, and then to see, instead of the lovely sick child who still breathed audibly, a silent corpse on the crumpled mat, and in the place of the two tender nurses at her head and feet, two heart-broken, loud-lamenting wretches. pentaur's hot spirit was full of wrath. as soon as the noisy cortege appeared actually in sight he would place himself in the doorway, forbid the princess to enter, and receive her with strong words. she could hardly come hither out of human kindness. "she wants variety," said he to himself, "something new at court; for there is little going on there now the king tarries with the troops in a distant country; it tickles the vanity of the great to find themselves once in a while in contact with the small, and it is well to have your goodness of heart spoken of by the people. if a little misfortune opportunely happens, it is not worth the trouble to inquire whether the form of our benevolence does more good or mischief to such wretched people." he ground his teeth angrily, and thought no more of the defilement which might threaten bent-anat from the paraschites, but exclusively, on the contrary, of the impending desecration by the princess of the holy feelings astir in this silent room. excited as he was to fanaticism, his condemning lips could not fail to find vigorous and impressive words. he stood drawn to his full height and drawing his breath deeply, like a spirit of light who holds his weapon raised to annihilate a demon of darkness, and he looked out into the valley to perceive from afar the cry of the runners and the rattle of the wheels of the gay train he expected. and he saw the doorway darkened by a lowly, bending figure, who, with folded arms, glided into the room and sank down silently by the side of the sick girl. the physicians and the old people moved as if to rise; but she signed to them without opening her lips, and with moist, expressive eyes, to keep their places; she looked long and lovingly in the face of the wounded girl, stroked her white arm, and turning to the old woman softly whispered to her "how pretty she is!" the paraschites' wife nodded assent, and the girl smiled and moved her lips as though she had caught the words and wished to speak. bent-anat took a rose from her hair and laid it on her bosom. the paraschites, who had not taken his hands from the feet of the sick child, but who had followed every movement of the princess, now whispered, "may hathor requite thee, who gave thee thy beauty." the princess turned to him and said, "forgive the sorrow, i have caused you." the old man stood up, letting the feet of the sick girl fall, and asked in a clear loud voice: "art thou bent-anat?" "yes, i am," replied the princess, bowing her head low, and in so gentle a voice, that it seemed as though she were ashamed of her proud name. the eyes of the old man flashed. then he said softly but decisively: "leave my hut then, it will defile thee." "not till you have forgiven me for that which i did unintentionally." "unintentionally! i believe thee," replied the paraschites. "the hoofs of thy horse became unclean when they trod on this white breast. look here--" and he lifted the cloth from the girl's bosom, and showed her the deep red wound, "look here--here is the first rose you laid on my grandchild's bosom, and the second--there it goes." the paraschites raised his arm to fling the flower through the door of his hut. but pentaur had approached him, and with a grasp of iron held the old man's hand. "stay," he cried in an eager tone, moderated however for the sake of the sick girl. "the third rose, which this noble hand has offered you, your sick heart and silly head have not even perceived. and yet you must know it if only from your need, your longing for it. the fair blossom of pure benevolence is laid on your child's heart, and at your very feet, by this proud princess. not with gold, but with humility. and whoever the daughter of rameses approaches as her equal, bows before her, even if he were the first prince in the land of egypt. indeed, the gods shall not forget this deed of bent-anat. and you--forgive, if you desire to be forgiven that guilt, which you bear as an inheritance from your fathers, and for your own sins." the paraschites bowed his head at these words, and when he raised it the anger had vanished from his well-cut features. he rubbed his wrist, which had been squeezed by pentaur's iron fingers, and said in a tone which betrayed all the bitterness of his feelings: "thy hand is hard, priest, and thy words hit like the strokes of a hammer. this fair lady is good and loving, and i know; that she did not drive her horse intentionally over this poor girl, who is my grandchild and not my daughter. if she were thy wife or the wife of the leech there, or the child of the poor woman yonder, who supports life by collecting the feet and feathers of the fowls that are slaughtered for sacrifice, i would not only forgive her, but console her for having made herself like to me; fate would have made her a murderess without any fault of her own, just as it stamped me as unclean while i was still at my mother's breast. aye--i would comfort her; and yet i am not very sensitive. ye holy three of thebes!--[the triad of thebes: anion, muth and chunsu.]--how should i be? great and small get out of my way that i may not touch them, and every day when i have done what it is my business to do they throw stones at me. [the paraschites, with an ethiopian knife, cuts the flesh of the corpse as deeply as the law requires: but instantly takes to flight, while the relatives of the deceased pursue him with stones, and curses, as if they wished to throw the blame on him.] "the fulfilment of duty--which brings a living to other men, which makes their happiness, and at the same time earns them honor, brings me every day fresh disgrace and painful sores. but i complain to no man, and must forgive--forgive--forgive, till at last all that men do to me seems quite natural and unavoidable, and i take it all like the scorching of the sun in summer, and the dust that the west wind blows into my face. it does not make me happy, but what can i do? i forgive all--" the voice of the paraschites had softened, and bent-anat, who looked down on him with emotion, interrupted him, exclaiming with deep feeling: "and so you will forgive me?--poor man!" the old man looked steadily, not at her, but at pentaur, while he replied: "poor man! aye, truly, poor man. you have driven me out of the world in which you live, and so i made a world for myself in this hut. i do not belong to you, and if i forget it, you drive me out as an intruder--nay as a wolf, who breaks into your fold; but you belong just as little to me, only when you play the wolf and fall upon me, i must bear it!" "the princess came to your hut as a suppliant, and with the wish of doing you some good," said pentaur. "may the avenging gods reckon it to her, when they visit on her the crimes of her father against me! perhaps it may bring me to prison, but it must come out. seven sons were mine, and rameses took them all from me and sent them to death; the child of the youngest, this girl, the light of my eyes, his daughter has brought to her death. three of my boys the king left to die of thirst by the tenat, [literally the "cutting" which, under seti i., the father of rameses, was the first suez canal; a representation of it is found on the northern outer wall of the temple of karnak. it followed nearly the same direction as the fresh-water canal of lesseps, and fertilized the land of goshen.] which is to join the nile to the red sea, three were killed by the ethiopians, and the last, the star of my hopes, by this time is eaten by the hyaenas of the north." at these words the old woman, in whose lap the head of the girl rested, broke out into a loud cry, in which she was joined by all the other women. the sufferer started up frightened, and opened her eyes. "for whom are you wailing?" she asked feebly. "for your poor father," said the old woman. the girl smiled like a child who detects some well-meant deceit, and said: "was not my father here, with you? he is here, in thebes, and looked at me, and kissed me, and said that he is bringing home plunder, and that a good time is coming for you. the gold ring that he gave me i was fastening into my dress, when the chariot passed over me. i was just pulling the knots, when all grew black before my eyes, and i saw and heard nothing more. undo it, grandmother, the ring is for you; i meant to bring it to you. you must buy a beast for sacrifice with it, and wine for grandfather, and eye salve [the egyptian mestem, that is stibium or antimony, which was introduced into egypt by the asiatics at a very early period and universally used.] for yourself, and sticks of mastic, [at the present day the egyptian women are fond of chewing them, on account of their pleasant taste. the ancient egyptians used various pills. receipts for such things are found in the ebers papyrus.] which you have so long lead to do without." the paraschites seemed to drink these words from the mouth of his grandchild. again he lifted his hand in prayer, again pentaur observed that his glance met that of his wife, and a large, warm tear fell from his old eyes on to his callous hand. then he sank down, for he thought the sick child was deluded by a dream. but there were the knots in her dress. with a trembling hand he untied them, and a gold ring rolled out on the floor. bent-anat picked it up, and gave it to the paraschites. "i came here in a lucky hour," she said, "for you have recovered your son and your child will live." "she will live," repeated the surgeon, who had remained a silent witness of all that had occurred. "she will stay with us," murmured the old man, and then said, as he approached the princess on his knees, and looked up at her beseechingly with tearful eyes: "pardon me as i pardon thee; and if a pious wish may not turn to a curse from the lips of the unclean, let me bless thee." "i thank you," said bent-anat, towards whom the old man raised his hand in blessing. then she turned to nebsecht, and ordered him to take anxious care of the sick girl; she bent over her, kissed her forehead, laid her gold bracelet by her side, and signing to pentaur left the hut with him. chapter vi. during the occurrence we have described, the king's pioneer and the young wife of mena were obliged to wait for the princess. the sun stood in the meridian, when bent-anat had gone into the hovel of the paraschites. the bare limestone rocks on each side of the valley and the sandy soil between, shone with a vivid whiteness that hurt the eyes; not a hand's breadth of shade was anywhere to be seen, and the fan-beaters of the two, who were waiting there, had, by command of the princess, staid behind with the chariot and litters. for a time they stood silently near each other, then the fair nefert said, wearily closing her almond-shaped eyes: "how long bent-anat stays in the but of the unclean! i am perishing here. what shall we do?" "stay!" said paaker, turning his back on the lady; and mounting a block of stone by the side of the gorge, he cast a practised glance all round, and returned to nefert: "i have found a shady spot," he said, "out there." mena's wife followed with her eyes the indication of his hand, and shook her head. the gold ornaments on her head-dress rattled gently as she did so, and a cold shiver passed over her slim body in spite of the midday heat. "sechet is raging in the sky," said paaker. [a goddess with the head of a lioness or a cat, over which the sun disk is usually found. she was the daughter of ra, and in the form of the uraeus on her father's crown personified the murderous heat of the star of day. she incites man to the hot and wild passion of love, and as a cat or lioness tears burning wounds in the limbs of the guilty in the nether world; drunkenness and pleasure are her gifts she was also named bast and astarte after her sister-divinity among the phoenicians.] "let us avail ourselves of the shady spot, small though it be. at this hour of the day many are struck with sickness." "i know it," said nefert, covering her neck with her hand. then she went towards two blocks of stone which leaned against each other, and between them afforded the spot of shade, not many feet wide, which paaker had pointed out as a shelter from the sun. paaker preceded her, and rolled a flat piece of limestone, inlaid by nature with nodules of flint, under the stone pavilion, crushed a few scorpions which had taken refuge there, spread his head-cloth over the hard seat, and said, "here you are sheltered." nefert sank down on the stone and watched the mohar, who slowly and silently paced backwards and forward in front of her. this incessant to and fro of her companion at last became unendurable to her sensitive and irritated nerves, and suddenly raising her head from her hand, on which she had rested it, she exclaimed "pray stand still." the pioneer obeyed instantly, and looked, as he stood with his back to her, towards the hovel of the paraschites. after a short time nefert said, "say something to me!" the mohar turned his full face towards her, and she was frightened at the wild fire that glowed in the glance with which he gazed at her. nefert's eyes fell, and paaker, saying: "i would rather remain silent," recommenced his walk, till nefert called to him again and said, "i know you are angry with me; but i was but a child when i was betrothed to you. i liked you too, and when in our games your mother called me your little wife, i was really glad, and used to think how fine it would be when i might call all your possessions mine, the house you would have so splendidly restored for me after your father's death, the noble gardens, the fine horses in their stables, and all the male and female slaves!" paaker laughed, but the laugh sounded so forced and scornful that it cut nefert to the heart, and she went on, as if begging for indulgence: "it was said that you were angry with us; and now you will take my words as if i had cared only for your wealth; but i said, i liked you. do you no longer remember how i cried with you over your tales of the bad boys in the school; and over your father's severity? then my uncle died;-then you went to asia." and you," interrupted paaker, hardly and drily, "you broke your bethrothal vows, and became the wife of the charioteer mena. i know it all; of what use is talking?" "because it grieves me that you should be angry, and your good mother avoid our house. if only you could know what it is when love seizes one, and one can no longer even think alone, but only near, and with, and in the very arms of another; when one's beating heart throbs in one's very temples, and even in one's dreams one sees nothing--but one only." "and do i not know it?" cried paaker, placing himself close before her with his arms crossed. "do i not know it? and you it was who taught me to know it. when i thought of you, not blood, but burning fire, coursed in my veins, and now you have filled them with poison; and here in this breast, in which your image dwelt, as lovely as that of hathor in her holy of holies, all is like that sea in syria which is called the dead sea, in which every thing that tries to live presently dies and perishes." paaker's eyes rolled as he spoke, and his voice sounded hoarsely as he went on. "but mena was near to the king--nearer than i, and your mother--" "my mother!"--nefert interrupted the angry mohar. "my mother did not choose my husband. i saw him driving the chariot, and to me he resembled the sun god, and he observed me, and looked at me, and his glance pierced deep into my heart like a spear; and when, at the festival of the king's birthday, he spoke to me, it was just as if hathor had thrown round me a web of sweet, sounding sunbeams. and it was the same with mena; he himself has told me so since i have been his wife. for your sake my mother rejected his suit, but i grew pale and dull with longing for him, and he lost his bright spirit, and was so melancholy that the king remarked it, and asked what weighed on his heart--for rameses loves him as his own son. then mena confessed to the pharaoh that it was love that dimmed his eye and weakened his strong hand; and then the king himself courted me for his faithful servant, and my mother gave way, and we were made man and wife, and all the joys of the justified in the fields of aalu [the fields of the blest, which were opened to glorified souls. in the book of the dead it is shown that in them men linger, and sow and reap by cool waters.] are shallow and feeble by the side of the bliss which we two have known-not like mortal men, but like the celestial gods." up to this point nefert had fixed her large eyes on the sky, like a glorified soul; but now her gaze fell, and she said softly-"but the cheta [an aramaean race, according to schrader's excellent judgment. at the time of our story the peoples of western asia had allied themselves to them.] disturbed our happiness, for the king took mena with him to the war. fifteen times did the moon, rise upon our happiness, and then--" "and then the gods heard my prayer, and accepted my offerings," said paaker, with a trembling voice, "and tore the robber of my joys from you, and scorched your heart and his with desire. do you think you can tell me anything i do not know? once again for fifteen days was mena yours, and now he has not returned again from the war which is raging hotly in asia." "but he will return," cried the young wife. "or possibly not," laughed paaker. "the cheta, carry sharp weapons, and there are many vultures in lebanon, who perhaps at this hour are tearing his flesh as he tore my heart." nefert rose at these words, her sensitive spirit bruised as with stones thrown by a brutal hand, and attempted to leave her shady refuge to follow the princess into the house of the parascllites; but her feet refused to bear her, and she sank back trembling on her stone seat. she tried to find words, but her tongue was powerless. her powers of resistance forsook her in her unutterable and soul-felt distress--heartwrung, forsaken and provoked. a variety of painful sensations raised a hot vehement storm in her bosom, which checked her breath, and at last found relief in a passionate and convulsive weeping that shook her whole body. she saw nothing more, she heard nothing more, she only shed tears and felt herself miserable. paaker stood over her in silence. there are trees in the tropics, on which white blossoms hang close by the withered fruit, there are days when the pale moon shows itself near the clear bright sun;--and it is given to the soul of man to feel love and hatred, both at the same time, and to direct both to the same end. nefert's tears fell as dew, her sobs as manna on the soul of paaker, which hungered and thirsted for revenge. her pain was joy to him, and yet the sight of her beauty filled him with passion, his gaze lingered spell-bound on her graceful form; he would have given all the bliss of heaven once, only once, to hold her in his arms--once, only once, to hear a word of love from her lips. after some minutes nefert's tears grew less violent. with a weary, almost indifferent gaze she looked at the mohar, still standing before her, and said in a soft tone of entreaty: 'my tongue is parched, fetch me a little water." "the princess may come out at any moment," replied paaker. "but i am fainting," said nefert, and began again to cry gently. paaker shrugged his shoulders, and went farther into the valley, which he knew as well as his father's house; for in it was the tomb of his mother's ancestors, in which, as a boy, he had put up prayers at every full and new moon, and laid gifts on the altar. the hut of the paraschites was prohibited to him, but he knew that scarcely a hundred paces from the spot where nefert was sitting, lived an old woman of evil repute, in whose hole in the rock he could not fail to find a drink of water. he hastened forward, half intoxicated with had seen and felt within the last few minutes. the door, which at night closed the cave against the intrusions of the plunder-seeking jackals, was wide open, and the old woman sat outside under a ragged piece of brown sail-cloth, fastened at one end to the rock and at the other to two posts of rough wood. she was sorting a heap of dark and light-colored roots, which lay in her lap. near her was a wheel, which turned in a high wooden fork. a wryneck made fast to it by a little chain, and by springing from spoke to spoke kept it in continual motion.--[from theocritus' idyl: the sorceress.]--a large black cat crouched beside her, and smelt at some ravens' and owls' heads, from which the eyes had not long since been extracted. two sparrow-hawks sat huddled up over the door of the cave, out of which came the sharp odor of burning juniper-berries; this was intended to render the various emanations rising from the different strange substances, which were collected and preserved there, innocuous. as paaker approached the cavern the old woman called out to some one within: "is the wax cooking?" an unintelligible murmur was heard in answer. then throw in the ape's eyes, [the sentences and mediums employed by the witches, according to papyrus-rolls which remain. i have availed myself of the magic papyrus of harris, and of two in the berlin collection, one of which is in greek. ] and the ibis feathers, and the scraps of linen with the black signs on them. stir it all a little; now put out the fire, "take the jug and fetch some water--make haste, here comes a stranger." a sooty-black negro woman, with a piece of torn colorless stuff hanging round her hips, set a large clay-jar on her grey woolly matted hair, and without looking at him, went past paaker, who was now close to the cave. the old woman, a tall figure bent with years, with a sharply-cut and wrinkled face, that might once have been handsome, made her preparations for receiving the visitor by tying a gaudy kerchief over her head, fastening her blue cotton garment round her throat, and flinging a fibre mat over the birds' heads. paaker called out to her, but she feigned to be deaf and not to hear his voice. only when he stood quite close to her, did she raise her shrewd, twinkling eyes, and cry out: "a lucky day! a white day that brings a noble guest and high honor." "get up," commanded paaker, not giving her any greeting, but throwing a silver ring among the roots that lay in her lap, [the egyptians had no coins before alexander and the ptolemies, but used metals for exchange, usually in the form of rings.] "and give me in exchange for good money some water in a clean vessel." "fine pure silver," said the old woman, while she held the ring, which she had quickly picked out from the roots, close to her eyes; "it is too much for mere water, and too little for my good liquors." "don't chatter, hussy, but make haste," cried paaker, taking another ring from his money-bag and throwing it into her lap. "thou hast an open hand," said the old woman, speaking in the dialect of the upper classes; "many doors must be open to thee, for money is a passkey that turns any lock. would'st thou have water for thy good money? shall it protect thee against noxious beasts?--shall it help thee to reach down a star? shall it guide thee to secret paths?--it is thy duty to lead the way. shall it make heat cold, or cold warm? shall it give thee the power of reading hearts, or shall it beget beautiful dreams? wilt thou drink of the water of knowledge and see whether thy friend or thine enemy--ha! if thine enemy shall die? would'st thou a drink to strengthen thy memory? shall the water make thee invisible? or remove the 6th toe from thy left foot?" "you know me?" asked paaker. "how should i?" said the old woman, "but my eyes are sharp, and i can prepare good waters for great and small." "mere babble!" exclaimed paaker, impatiently clutching at the whip in his girdle; "make haste, for the lady for whom--" "dost thou want the water for a lady?" interrupted the old woman. "who would have thought it?--old men certainly ask for my philters much oftener than young ones--but i can serve thee." with these words the old woman went into the cave, and soon returned with a thin cylindrical flask of alabaster in her hand. "this is the drink," she said, giving the phial to paaker. "pour half into water, and offer it to the lady. if it does not succeed at first, it is certain the second time. a child may drink the water and it will not hurt him, or if an old man takes it, it makes him gay. ah, i know the taste of it!" and she moistened her lips with the white fluid. "it can hurt no one, but i will take no more of it, or old hekt will be tormented with love and longing for thee; and that would ill please the rich young lord, ha! ha! if the drink is in vain i am paid enough, if it takes effect thou shalt bring me three more gold rings; and thou wilt return, i know it well." paaker had listened motionless to the old woman, and siezed the flask eagerly, as if bidding defiance to some adversary; he put it in his money bag, threw a few more rings at the feet of the witch, and once more hastily demanded a bowl of nile-water. "is my lord in such a hurry?" muttered the old woman, once more going into the cave. "he asks if i know him? him certainly i do? but the darling? who can it be hereabouts? perhaps little uarda at the paraschites yonder. she is pretty enough; but she is lying on a mat, run over and dying. we must see what my lord means. he would have pleased me well enough, if i were young; but he will reach the goal, for he is resolute and spares no one." while she muttered these and similar words, she filled a graceful cup of glazed earthenware with filtered nile-water, which she poured out of a large porous clay jar, and laid a laurel leaf, on which was scratched two hearts linked together by seven strokes, on the surface of the limpid fluid. then she stepped out into the air again. as paaker took the vessel from her looked at the laurel leaf, she said: "this indeed binds hearts; three is the husband, four is the wife, seven is the chachach, charcharachacha."--[this jargon is fund in a magicpapyrus at berlin.] the old woman sang this spell not without skill; but the mohar appeared not to listen to her jargon. he descended carefully into the valley, and directed his steps to the resting place of the wife of mena. by the side of a rock, which hill him from nefert, he paused, set the cup on a flat block of stone, and drew the flask with the philter out of his girdle. his fingers trembled, but a thousand voices seemed to surge up and cry: "take it!--do it!--put in the drink!--now or never." he felt like a solitary traveller, who finds on his road the last will of a relation whose possessions he had hoped for, but which disinherits him. shall he surrender it to the judge, or shall he destroy it. paaker was not merely outwardly devout; hitherto he had in everything intended to act according to the prescriptions of the religion of his fathers. adultery was a heavy sin; but had not he an older right to nefert than the king's charioteer? he who followed the black arts of magic, should, according to the law, be punished by death, and the old woman had a bad name for her evil arts; but he had not sought her for the sake of the philter. was it not possible that the manes of his forefathers, that the gods themselves, moved by his prayers and offerings, had put him in possession by an accident--which was almost a miracle--of the magic potion efficacy he never for an instant doubted? paaker's associates held him to be a man of quick decision, and, in fact, in difficult cases he could act with unusual rapidity, but what guided him in these cases, was not the swift-winged judgment of a prepared and well-schooled brain, but usually only resulted from the outcome of a play of question and answer. amulets of the most various kinds hung round his neck, and from his girdle, all consecrated by priests, and of special sanctity or the highest efficacy. there was the lapis lazuli eye, which hung to his girdle by a gold chain; when he threw it on the ground, so as to lie on the earth, if its engraved side turned to heaven, and its smooth side lay on the ground, he said "yes;" in the other case, on the contrary, "no." in his purse lay always a statuette of the god apheru, who opened roads; this he threw down at cross-roads, and followed the direction which the pointed snout of the image indicated. he frequently called into council the seal-ring of his deceased father, an old family possession, which the chief priests of abydos had laid upon the holiest of the fourteen graves of osiris, and endowed with miraculous power. it consisted of a gold ring with a broad signet, on which could be read the name of thotmes iii., who had long since been deified, and from whom paaker's ancestors had derived it. if it were desirable to consult the ring, the mohar touched with the point of his bronze dagger the engraved sign of the name, below which were represented three objects sacred to the gods, and three that were, on the contrary, profane. if he hit one of the former, he concluded that his father--who was gone to osiris--concurred in his design; in the contrary case he was careful to postpone it. often he pressed the ring to his heart, and awaited the first living creature that he might meet, regarding it as a messenger from his father;--if it came to him from the right hand as an encouragement, if from the left as a warning. by degrees he had reduced these questionings to a system. all that he found in nature he referred to himself and the current of his life. it was at once touching, and pitiful, to see how closely he lived with the manes of his dead. his lively, but not exalted fancy, wherever he gave it play, presented to the eye of his soul the image of his father and of an elder brother who had died early, always in the same spot, and almost tangibly distinct. but he never conjured up the remembrance of the beloved dead in order to think of them in silent melancholy--that sweet blossom of the thorny wreath of sorrow; only for selfish ends. the appeal to the manes of his father he had found especially efficacious in certain desires and difficulties; calling on the manes of his brother was potent in certain others; and so he turned from one to the other with the precision of a carpenter, who rarely doubts whether he should give the preference to a hatchet or a saw. these doings he held to be well pleasing to the gods, and as he was convinced that the spirits of his dead had, after their justification, passed into osiris that is to say, as atoms forming part of the great world-soul, at this time had a share in the direction of the universe-he sacrificed to them not only in the family catacomb, but also in the temples of the necropolis dedicated to the worship of ancestors, and with special preference in the house of seti. he accepted advice, nay even blame, from ameni and the other priests under his direction; and so lived full of a virtuous pride in being one of the most zealous devotees in the land, and one of the most pleasing to the gods, a belief on which his pastors never threw any doubt. attended and guided at every step by supernatural powers, he wanted no friend and no confidant. in the fleld, as in thebes, he stood apart, and passed among his comrades for a reserved man, rough and proud, but with a strong will. he had the power of calling up the image of his lost love with as much vividness as the forms of the dead, and indulged in this magic, not only through a hundred still nights, but in long rides and drives through silent wastes. such visions were commonly followed by a vehement and boiling overflow of his hatred against the charioteer, and a whole series of fervent prayers for his destruction. when paaker set the cup of water for nefert on the flat stone and felt for the philter, his soul was so full of desire that there was no room for hatred; still he could not altogether exclude the idea that he would commit a great crime by making use of a magic drink. before pouring the fateful drops into the water, he would consult the oracle of the ring. the dagger touched none of the holy symbols of the inscription on the signet, and in other circumstances he would, without going any farther, have given up his project. but this time he unwillingly returned it to its sheath, pressed the gold ring to his heart, muttered the name of his brother in osiris, and awaited the first living creature that might come towards him. he had not long to wait, from the mountain slope opposite to him rose, with heavy, slow wing-strokes, two light-colored vultures. in anxious suspense he followed their flight, as they rose, higher and higher. for a moment they poised motionless, borne up by the air, circled round each other, then wheeled to the left and vanished behind the mountains, denying him the fulfilment of his desire. he hastily grasped the phial to fling it from him, but the surging passion in his veins had deprived him of his self-control. nefert's image stood before him as if beckoning him; a mysterious power clenched his fingers close and yet closer round the phial, and with the same defiance which he showed to his associates, he poured half of the philter into the cup and approached his victim. nefert had meanwhile left her shady retreat and come towards him. she silently accepted the water he offered her, and drank it with delight, to the very dregs. "'thank you," she said, when she had recovered breath after her eager draught. "that has done me good! how fresh and acid the water tastes; but your hand shakes, and you are heated by your quick run for me--poor man." with these words she looked at him with a peculiar expressive glance of her large eyes, and gave him her right hand, which he pressed wildly to his lips. "that will do," she said smiling; "here comes the princess with a priest, out of the hovel of the unclean. with what frightful words you terrified me just now. it is true i gave you just cause to be angry with me; but now you are kind again--do you hear?--and will bring your mother again to see mine. not a word. i shall see, whether cousin paaker refuses me obedience." she threatened him playfully with her finger, and then growing grave she added, with a look that pierced paaker's heart with pain, and yet with ecstasy, "let us leave off quarrelling. it is so much better when people are kind to each other." after these words she walked towards the house of the paraschites, while paaker pressed his hands to his breast, and murmured: "the drink is working, and she will be mine. i thank ye--ye immortals!" but this thanksgiving, which hitherto he had never failed to utter when any good fortune had befallen him, to-day died on his lips. close before him he saw the goal of his desires; there, under his eyes, lay the magic spring longed for for years. a few steps farther, and he might slake at its copious stream his thirst both for love and for revenge. while he followed the wife of mena, and replaced the phial carefully in his girdle, so as to lose no drop of the precious fluid which, according to the prescription of the old woman, he needed to use again, warning voices spoke in his breast, to which he usually listened as to a fatherly admonition; but at this moment he mocked at them, and even gave outward expression to the mood that ruled him--for he flung up his right hand like a drunken man, who turns away from the preacher of morality on his way to the wine-cask; and yet passion held him so closely ensnared, that the thought that he should live through the swift moments which would change him from an honest man into a criminal, hardly dawned, darkly on his soul. he had hitherto dared to indulge his desire for love and revenge in thought only, and had left it to the gods to act for themselves; now he had taken his cause out of the hand of the celestials, and gone into action without them, and in spite of them. the sorceress hekt passed him; she wanted to see the woman for whom she had given him the philter. he perceived her and shuddered, but soon the old woman vanished among the rocks muttering. "look at the fellow with six toes. he makes himself comfortable with the heritage of assa." in the middle of the valley walked nefert and the pioneer, with the princess bent-anat and pentaur who accompanied her. when these two had come out of the hut of the paraschites, they stood opposite each other in silence. the royal maiden pressed her hand to her heart, and, like one who is thirsty, drank in the pure air of the mountain valley with deeply drawn breath; she felt as if released from some overwhelming burden, as if delivered from some frightful danger. at last she turned to her companion, who gazed earnestly at the ground. "what an hour!" she said. pentaur's tall figure did not move, but he bowed his head in assent, as if he were in a dream. bent-anat now saw him for the first time in fall daylight; her large eyes rested on him with admiration, and she asked: "art thou the priest, who yesterday, after my first visit to this house, so readily restored me to cleanness?" "i am he," replied pentaur. "i recognized thy voice, and i am grateful to thee, for it was thou that didst strengthen my courage to follow the impulse of my heart, in spite of my spiritual guides, and to come here again. thou wilt defend me if others blame me." "i came here to pronounce thee unclean." "then thou hast changed thy mind?" asked bent-anat, and a smile of contempt curled her lips. "i follow a high injunction, that commands us to keep the old institutions sacred. if touching a paraschites, it is said, does not defile a princess, whom then can it defile? for whose garment is more spotless than hers?" "but this is a good man with all his meanness," interrupted bent-anat, "and in spite of the disgrace, which is the bread of life to him as honor is to us. may the nine great gods forgive me! but he who is in there is loving, pious and brave, and pleases me--and thou, thou, who didst think yesterday to purge away the taint of his touch with a word--what prompts thee today to cast him with the lepers?" "the admonition of an enlightened man, never to give up any link of the old institutions; because thereby the already weakened chain may be broken, and fall rattling to the ground." "then thou condemnest me to uncleanness for the sake of all old superstition, and of the populace, but not for my actions? thou art silent? answer me now, if thou art such a one as i took the for, freely and sincerely; for it concerns the peace of my soul." pentaur breathed hard; and then from the depths of his soul, tormented by doubts, these deeply-felt words forced themselves as if wrung from him; at first softly, but louder as he went on. "thou dost compel me to say what i had better not even think; but rather will i sin against obedience than against truth, the pure daughter of the sun, whose aspect, bent-anat, thou dost wear. whether the paraschites is unclean by birth or not, who am i that i should decide? but to me this man appeared--as to thee--as one moved by the same pure and holy emotions as stir and bless me and mine, and thee and every soul born of woman; and i believe that the impressions of this hour have touched thy soul as well as mine, not to taint, but to purify. if i am wrong, may the many-named gods forgive me, whose breath lives and works in the paraschites as well as in thee and me, in whom i believe, and to whom i will ever address my humble songs, louder and more joyfully, as i learn that all that lives and breathes, that weeps and rejoices, is the image of their sublime nature, and born to equal joy and equal sorrow." pentaur had raised his eyes to heaven; now they met the proud and joyful radiance of the princess' glance, while she frankly offered him her hand. he humbly kissed her robe, but she said: "nay--not so. lay thy hand in blessing on mine. thou art a man and a true priest. now i can be satisfied to be regarded as unclean, for my father also desires that, by us especially, the institutions of the past that have so long continued should be respected, for the sake of the people. let us pray in common to the gods, that these poor people may be released from the old ban. how beautiful the world might be, if men would but let man remain what the celestials have made him. but paaker and poor nefert are waiting in the scorching sun-come, follow me." she went forward, but after a few steps she turned round to him, and asked: "what is thy name?" "pentaur." "thou then art the poet of the house of seti?" "they call me so." bent-anat stood still a moment, gazing full at him as at a kinsman whom we meet for the first time face to face, and said: "the gods have given thee great gifts, for thy glance reaches farther and pierces deeper than that of other men; and thou canst say in words what we can only feel--i follow thee willingly!" pentaur blushed like a boy, and said, while paaker and nefert came nearer to them: "till to-day life lay before me as if in twilight; but this moment shows it me in another light. i have seen its deepest shadows; and," he added in a low tone "how glorious its light can be." chapter vii. an hour later, bent-anat and her train of followers stood before the gate of the house of seti. swift as a ball thrown from a man's hand, a runner had sprung forward and hurried on to announce the approach of the princess to the chief priest. she stood alone in her chariot, in advance of all her companions, for pentaur had found a place with paaker. at the gate of the temple they were met by the head of the haruspices. the great doors of the pylon were wide open, and afforded a view into the forecourt of the sanctuary, paved with polished squares of stone, and surrounded on three sides with colonnades. the walls and architraves, the pillars and the fluted cornice, which slightly curved in over the court, were gorgeous with many colored figures and painted decorations. in the middle stood a great sacrificial altar, on which burned logs of cedar wood, whilst fragrant balls of kyphi [kyphi was a celebrated egyptian incense. recipes for its preparation have been preserved in the papyrus of ebers, in the laboratories of the temples, and elsewhere. parthey had three different varieties prepared by the chemist, l. voigt, in berlin. kyphi after the formula of dioskorides was the best. it consisted of rosin, wine, rad, galangae, juniper berries, the root of the aromatic rush, asphalte, mastic, myrrh, burgundy grapes, and honey.] were consumed by the flames, filling the wide space with their heavy perfume. around, in semi-circular array, stood more than a hundred white-robed priests, who all turned to face the approaching princess, and sang heart-rending songs of lamentation. many of the inhabitants of the necropolis had collected on either side of the lines of sphinxes, between which the princess drove up to the sanctuary. but none asked what these songs of lamentation might signify, for about this sacred place lamentation and mystery for ever lingered. "hail to the child of rameses!"--"all hail to the daughter of the sun!" rang from a thousand throats; and the assembled multitude bowed almost to the earth at the approach of the royal maiden. at the pylon, the princess descended from her chariot, and preceded by the chief of the haruspices, who had gravely and silently greeted her, passed on to the door of the temple. but as she prepared to cross the forecourt, suddenly, without warning, the priests' chant swelled to a terrible, almost thundering loudness, the clear, shrill voice of the temple scholars rising in passionate lament, supported by the deep and threatening roll of the basses. bent-anat started and checked her steps. then she walked on again. but on the threshold of the door, ameni, in full pontifical robes, stood before her in the way, his crozier extended as though to forbid her entrance. "the advent of the daughter of rameses in her purity," he cried in loud and passionate tones, "augurs blessing to this sanctuary; but this abode of the gods closes its portals on the unclean, be they slaves or princes. in the name of the immortals, from whom thou art descended, i ask thee, bent-anat, art thou clean, or hast thou, through the touch of the unclean, defiled thyself and contaminated thy royal hand?" deep scarlet flushed the maiden's cheeks, there was a rushing sound in her ears as of a stormy sea surging close beside her, and her bosom rose and fell in passionate emotion. the kingly blood in her veins boiled wildly; she felt that an unworthy part had been assigned to her in a carefully-premeditated scene; she forgot her resolution to accuse herself of uncleanness, and already her lips were parted in vehement protest against the priestly assumption that so deeply stirred her to rebellion, when ameni, who placed himself directly in front of the princess, raised his eyes, and turned them full upon her with all the depths of their indwelling earnestness. the words died away, and bent-anat stood silent, but she endured the gaze, and returned it proudly and defiantly. the blue veins started in ameni's forehead; yet he repressed the resentment which was gathering like thunder clouds in his soul, and said, with a voice that gradually deviated more and more from its usual moderation: "for the second time the gods demand through me, their representative: hast thou entered this holy place in order that the celestials may purge thee of the defilement that stains thy body and soul?" "my father will communicate the answer to thee," replied bent-anat shortly and proudly. "not to me," returned ameni, "but to the gods, in whose name i now command thee to quit this sanctuary, which is defiled by thy presence." bent-anat's whole form quivered. "i will go," she said with sullen dignity. she turned to recross the gateway of the pylon. at the first step her glance met the eye of the poet. as one to whom it is vouchsafed to stand and gaze at some great prodigy, so pentaur had stood opposite the royal maiden, uneasy and yet fascinated, agitated, yet with secretly uplifted soul. her deed seemed to him of boundless audacity, and yet one suited to her true and noble nature. by her side, ameni, his revered and admired master, sank into insignificance; and when she turned to leave the temple, his hand was raised indeed to hold her back, but as his glance met hers, his hand refused its office, and sought instead to still the throbbing of his overflowing heart. the experienced priest, meanwhile, read the features of these two guileless beings like an open book. a quickly-formed tie, he felt, linked their souls, and the look which he saw them exchange startled him. the rebellious princess had glanced at the poet as though claiming approbation for her triumph, and pentaur's eyes had responded to the appeal. one instant ameni paused. then he cried: "bent-anat!" the princess turned to the priest, and looked at him gravely and enquiringly. ameni took a step forward, and stood between her and the poet. "thou wouldst challenge the gods to combat," he said sternly. "that is bold; but such daring it seems to me has grown up in thee because thou canst count on an ally, who stands scarcely farther from the immortals than i myself. hear this:--to thee, the misguided child, much may be forgiven. but a servant of the divinity," and with these words he turned a threatening glance on pentaur--"a priest, who in the war of free-will against law becomes a deserter, who forgets his duty and his oath--he will not long stand beside thee to support thee, for he--even though every god had blessed him with the richest gifts--he is damned. we drive him from among us, we curse him, we--" at these words bent-anat looked now at ameni, trembling with excitement, now at pentaur standing opposite to her. her face was red and white by turns, as light and shade chase each other on the ground when at noon-day a palm-grove is stirred by a storm. the poet took a step towards her. she felt that if he spoke it would be to defend all that she had done, and to ruin himself. a deep sympathy, a nameless anguish seized her soul, and before pentaur could open his lips, she had sunk slowly down before ameni, saying in low tones: "i have sinned and defiled myself; thou hast said it--as pentaur said it by the hut of the paraschites. restore me to cleanness, ameni, for i am unclean." like a flame that is crushed out by a hand, so the fire in the highpriest's eye was extinguished. graciously, almost lovingly, he looked down on the princess, blessed her and conducted her before the holy of holies, there had clouds of incense wafted round her, anointed her with the nine holy oils, and commanded her to return to the royal castle. yet, said he, her guilt was not expiated; she should shortly learn by what prayers and exercises she might attain once more to perfect purity before the gods, of whom he purposed to enquire in the holy place. during all these ceremonies the priests stationed in the forecourt continued their lamentations. the people standing before the temple listened to the priest's chant, and interrupted it from time to time with ringing cries of wailing, for already a dark rumor of what was going on within had spread among the multitude. the sun was going down. the visitors to the necropolis must soon be leaving it, and bent-anat, for whose appearance the people impatiently waited, would not show herself. one and another said the princess had been cursed, because she had taken remedies to the fair and injured uarda, who was known to many of them. among the curious who had flocked together were many embalmers, laborers, and humble folk, who lived in the necropolis. the mutinous and refractory temper of the egyptians, which brought such heavy suffering on them under their later foreign rulers, was aroused, and rising with every minute. they reviled the pride of the priests, and their senseless, worthless, institutions. a drunken soldier, who soon reeled back into the tavern which he had but just left, distinguished himself as ringleader, and was the first to pick up a heavy stone to fling at the huge brass-plated temple gates. a few boys followed his example with shouts, and law-abiding men even, urged by the clamor of fanatical women, let themselves be led away to stone-flinging and words of abuse. within the house of seti the priests' chant went on uninterruptedly; but at last, when the noise of the crowd grew louder, the great gate was thrown open, and with a solemn step ameni, in full robes, and followed by twenty pastophori--[an order of priests]--who bore images of the gods and holy symbols on their shoulders--ameni walked into the midst of the crowd. all were silent. "wherefore do you disturb our worship?" he asked loudly and calmly. a roar of confused cries answered him, in which the frequently repeated name of bent-anat could alone be distinguished. ameni preserved his immoveable composure, and, raising his crozier, he cried-"make way for the daughter of rameses, who sought and has found purification from the gods, who behold the guilt of the highest as of the lowest among you. they reward the pious, but they punish the offender. kneel down and let us pray that they may forgive you, and bless both you and your children." ameni took the holy sistrum [a rattling metal instrument used by the egyptians in the service of the gods. many specimens are extant in museums. plutarch describes it correctly, thus: "the sistrum is rounded above, and the loop holds the four bars which are shaken." on the bend of the sistrum they often set the head of a cat with a human face.] from one of the attendant pastophori, and held it on high; the priests behind him raised a solemn hymn, and the crowd sank on their knees; nor did they move till the chant ceased and the high-priest again cried out: "the immortals bless you by me their servant. leave this spot and make way for the daughter of rameses." with these words he withdrew into the temple, and the patrol, without meeting with any opposition, cleared the road guarded by sphinxes which led to the nile. as bent-anat mounted her chariot ameni said "thou art the child of kings. the house of thy father rests on the shoulders of the people. loosen the old laws which hold them subject, and the people will conduct themselves like these fools." ameni retired. bent-anat slowly arranged the reins in her hand, her eyes resting the while on the poet, who, leaning against a door-post, gazed at her in beatitude. she let her whip fall to the ground, that he might pick it up and restore it to her, but he did not observe it. a runner sprang forward and handed it to the princess, whose horses started off, tossing themselves and neighing. pentaur remained as if spell-bound, standing by the pillar, till the rattle of the departing wheels on the flag-way of the avenue of sphinxes had altogether died away, and the reflection of the glowing sunset painted the eastern hills with soft and rosy hues. the far-sounding clang of a brass gong roused the poet from his ecstasy. it was the tomtom calling him to duty, to the lecture on rhetoric which at this hour he had to deliver to the young priests. he laid his left hand to his heart, and pressed his right hand to his forehead, as if to collect in its grasp his wandering thoughts; then silently and mechanically he went towards the open court in which his disciples awaited him. but instead of, as usual, considering on the way the subject he was to treat, his spirit and heart were occupied with the occurrences of the last few hours. one image reigned supreme in his imagination, filling it with delight--it was that of the fairest woman, who, radiant in her royal dignity and trembling with pride, had thrown herself in the dust for his sake. he felt as if her action had invested her whole being with a new and princely worth, as if her glance had brought light to his inmost soul, he seemed to breathe a freer air, to be borne onward on winged feet. in such a mood he appeared before his hearers. when he found himself confronting all the the well-known faces, he remembered what it was he was called upon to do. he supported himself against the wall of the court, and opened the papyrus-roll handed to him by his favorite pupil, the young anana. it was the book which twenty-four hours ago he had promised to begin upon. he looked now upon the characters that covered it, and felt that he was unable to read a word. with a powerful effort he collected himself, and looking upwards tried to find the thread he had cut at the end of yesterday's lecture, and intended to resume to-day; but between yesterday and to-day, as it seemed to him, lay a vast sea whose roaring surges stunned his memory and powers of thought. his scholars, squatting cross-legged on reed mats before him, gazed in astonishment on their silent master who was usually so ready of speech, and looked enquiringly at each other. a young priest whispered to his neighbor, "he is praying--" and anana noticed with silent anxiety the strong hand of his teacher clutching the manuscript so tightly that the slight material of which it consisted threatened to split. at last pentaur looked down; he had found a subject. while he was looking upwards his gaze fell on the opposite wall, and the painted name of the king with the accompanying title "the good god" met his eye. starting from these words he put this question to his hearers, "how do we apprehend the goodness of the divinity?" he challenged one priest after another to treat this subject as if he were standing before his future congregation. several disciples rose, and spoke with more or less truth and feeling. at last it came to anana's turn, who, in well-chosen words, praised the purpose-full beauty of animate and inanimate creation, in which the goodness of amon [amon, that is to say, "the hidden one." he was the god of thebes, which was under his aegis, and after the hykssos were expelled from the nile-valley, he was united with ra of heliopolis and endowed with the attributes of all the remaining gods. his nature was more and more spiritualized, till in the esoteric philosophy of the time of the rameses he is compared to the all filling and all guiding intelligence. he is "the husband of his mother, his own father, and his own son," as the living osiris, he is the soul and spirit of all creation.] of ra, [ra, originally the sun-god; later his name was introduced into the pantheistic mystic philosophy for that of the god who is the universe.] and ptah, [ptah is the greek henhaistas, the oldest of the gods, the great maker of the material for the creation, the "first beginner," by whose side the seven chnemu stand, as architects, to help him, and who was named "the lord of truth," because the laws and conditions of being proceeded from him. he created also the germ of light, he stood therefore at the head of the solar gods, and was called the creator of ice, from which, when he had cleft it, the sun and the moan came forth. hence his name "the opener."] as well as of the other gods, finds expression. pentaur listened to the youth with folded arms, now looking at him enquiringly, now adding approbation. then taking up the thread of the, discourse when it was ended, he began himself to speak. like obedient falcons at the call of the falconer, thoughts rushed down into his mind, and the divine passion awakened in his breast glowed and shone through his inspired language that soared every moment on freer and stronger wings. melting into pathos, exulting in rapture, he praised the splendor of nature; and the words flowed from his lips like a limpid crystal-clear stream as he glorified the eternal order of things, and the incomprehensible wisdom and care of the creator--the one, who is one alone, and great and without equal. "so incomparable," he said in conclusion, "is the home which god has given us. all that he--the one--has created is penetrated with his own essence, and bears witness to his goodness. he who knows how to find him sees him everywhere, and lives at every instant in the enjoyment of his glory. seek him, and when ye have found him fall down and sing praises before him. but praise the highest, not only in gratitude for the splendor of that which he has created, but for having given us the capacity for delight in his work. ascend the mountain peaks and look on the distant country, worship when the sunset glows with rubies, and the dawn with roses, go out in the nighttime, and look at the stars as they travel in eternal, unerring, immeasurable, and endless circles on silver barks through the blue vault of heaven, stand by the cradle of the child, by the buds of the flowers, and see how the mother bends over the one, and the bright dew-drops fall on the other. but would you know where the stream of divine goodness is most freely poured out, where the grace of the creator bestows the richest gifts, and where his holiest altars are prepared? in your own heart; so long as it is pure and full of love. in such a heart, nature is reflected as in a magic mirror, on whose surface the beautiful shines in three-fold beauty. there the eye can reach far away over stream, and meadow, and hill, and take in the whole circle of the earth; there the morning and evening-red shine, not like roses and rubies, but like the very cheeks of the goddess of beauty; there the stars circle on, not in silence, but with the mighty voices of the pure eternal harmonies of heaven; there the child smiles like an infant-god, and the bud unfolds to magic flowers; finally, there thankfulness grows broader and devotion grows deeper, and we throw ourselves into the arms of a god, who--as i imagine his glory--is a god to whom the sublime nine great gods pray as miserable and helpless suppliants." the tomtom which announced the end of the hour interrupted him. pentaur ceased speaking with a deep sigh, and for a minute not a scholar moved. at last the poet laid the papyrus roll out of his hand, wiped the sweat from his hot brow, and walked slowly towards the gate of the court, which led into the sacred grove of the temple. he had hardly crossed the threshold when he felt a hand laid upon his shoulder. he looked round. behind him stood ameni. "you fascinated your hearers, my friend," said the high-priest, coldly; "it is a pity that only the harp was wanting." ameni's words fell on the agitated spirit of the poet like ice on the breast of a man in fever. he knew this tone in his master's voice, for thus he was accustomed to reprove bad scholars and erring priests; but to him he had never yet so spoken. "it certainly would seem," continued the high-priest, bitterly, "as if in your intoxication you had forgotten what it becomes the teacher to utter in the lecture-hall. only a few weeks since you swore on my hands to guard the mysteries, and this day you have offered the great secret of the unnameable one, the most sacred possession of the initiated, like some cheap ware in the open market." "thou cuttest with knives," said pentaur. "may they prove sharp, and extirpate the undeveloped canker, the rank weed from your soul," cried the high-priest. "you are young, too young; not like the tender fruit-tree that lets itself be trained aright, and brought to perfection, but like the green fruit on the ground, which will turn to poison for the children who pick it up--yea even though it fall from a sacred tree. gagabu and i received you among us, against the opinion of the majority of the initiated. we gainsaid all those who doubted your ripeness because of your youth; and you swore to me, gratefully and enthusiastically, to guard the mysteries and the law. to-day for the first time i set you on the battle-field of life beyond the peaceful shelter of the schools. and how have you defended the standard that it was incumbent on you to uphold and maintain?" "i did that which seemed to me to be right and true," answered pentaur deeply moved. "right is the same for you as for us--what the law prescribes; and what is truth?" "none has lifted her veil," said pentaur, "but my soul is the offspring of the soul-filled body of the all; a portion of the infallible spirit of the divinity stirs in my breast, and if it shows itself potent in me--" "how easily we may mistake the flattering voice of self-love for that of the divinity!" "cannot the divinity which works and speaks in me--as in thee--as in each of us--recognize himself and his own voice?" "if the crowd were to hear you," ameni interrupted him, "each would set himself on his little throne, would proclaim the voice of the god within him as his guide, tear the law to shreds, and let the fragments fly to the desert on the east wind." "i am one of the elect whom thou thyself hast taught to seek and to find the one. the light which i gaze on and am blest, would strike the crowd --i do not deny it--with blindness--" "and nevertheless you blind our disciples with the dangerous glare-" "i am educating them for future sages." "and that with the hot overflow of a heart intoxicated with love!" "ameni!" "i stand before you, uninvited, as your teacher, who reproves you out of the law, which always and everywhere is wiser than the individual, whose defender the king--among his highest titles--boasts of being, and to which the sage bows as much as the common man whom we bring up to blind belief--i stand before you as your father, who has loved you from a child, and expected from none of his disciples more than from you; and who will therefore neither lose you nor abandon the hope he has set upon you-"make ready to leave our quiet house early tomorrow morning. you have forfeited your office of teacher. you shall now go into the school of life, and make yourself fit for the honored rank of the initiated which, by my error, was bestowed on you too soon. you must leave your scholars without any leave-taking, however hard it may appear to you. after the star of sothis [the holy star of isis, sirius or the dog star, whose course in the time of the pharaohs coincided with the exact solar year, and served at a very early date as a foundation for the reckoning of time among the egyptians.] has risen come for your instructions. you must in these next months try to lead the priesthood in the temple of hatasu, and in that post to win back my confidence which you have thrown away. no remonstrance; to-night you will receive my blessing, and our authority--you must greet the rising sun from the terrace of the new scene of your labors. may the unnameable stamp the law upon your soul!" ameni returned to his room. he walked restlessly to and fro. on a little table lay a mirror; he looked into the clear metal pane, and laid it back in its place again, as if he had seen some strange and displeasing countenance. the events of the last few hours had moved him deeply, and shaken his confidence in his unerring judgment of men and things. the priests on the other bank of the nile were bent-anat's counsellors, and he had heard the princess spoken of as a devout and gifted maiden. her incautious breach of the sacred institutions had seemed to him to offer a welcome opportunity for humiliating--a member of the royal family. now he told himself that he had undervalued this young creature that he had behaved clumsily, perhaps foolishly, to her; for he did not for a moment conceal from himself that her sudden change of demeanor resulted much more from the warm flow of her sympathy, or perhaps of her, affection, than from any recognition of her guilt, and he could not utilize her transgression with safety to himself, unless she felt herself guilty. nor was he of so great a nature as to be wholly free from vanity, and his vanity had been deeply wounded by the haughty resistance of the princess. when he commanded pentaur to meet the princess with words of reproof, he had hoped to awaken his ambition through the proud sense of power over the mighty ones of the earth. and now? how had his gifted admirer, the most hopeful of all his disciples, stood the test. the one ideal of his life, the unlimited dominion of the priestly idea over the minds of men, and of the priesthood over the king himself, had hitherto remained unintelligible to this singular young man. he must learn to understand it. "here, as the least among a hundred who are his superiors, all the powers of resistance of his soaring soul have been roused," said ameni to himself. "in the temple of hatasu he will have to rule over the inferior orders of slaughterers of victims and incense-burners; and, by requiring obedience, will learn to estimate the necessity of it. the rebel, to whom a throne devolves, becomes a tyrant!" "pentuar's poet soul," so he continued to reflect "has quickly yielded itself a prisoner to the charm of bent-anat; and what woman could resist this highly favored being, who is radiant in beauty as ra-harmachis, and from whose lips flows speech as sweet as techuti's. they ought never to meet again, for no tie must bind him to the house of rameses." again he paced to and fro, and murmured: "how is this? two of my disciples have towered above their fellows, in genius and gifts, like palm trees above their undergrowth. i brought them up to succeed me, to inherit my labors and my hopes. "mesu fell away; [mesu is the egyptian name of moses, whom we may consider as a contemporary of rameses, under whose successor the exodus of the jews from egypt took place.] and pentaur may follow him. must my aim be an unworthy one because it does not attract the noblest? not so. each feels himself made of better stuff than his companions in destiny, constitutes his own law, and fears to see the great expended in trifles; but i think otherwise; like a brook of ferruginous water from lebanon, i mix with the great stream, and tinge it with my color." thinking thus ameni stood still. then he called to one of the so-called "holy fathers," his private secretary, and said: "draw up at once a document, to be sent to all the priests'-colleges in the land. inform them that the daughter of rameses has lapsed seriously from the law, and defiled herself, and direct that public--you hear me public--prayers shall be put up for her purification in every temple. lay the letter before me to be signed within in hour. but no! give me your reed and palette; i will myself draw up the instructions." the "holy father" gave him writing materials, and retired into the background. ameni muttered: "the king will do us some unheard-of violence! well, this writing may be the first arrow in opposition to his lance." chapter viii. the moon was risen over the city of the living that lay opposite the necropolis of thebes. the evening song had died away in the temples, that stood about a mile from the nile, connected with each other by avenues of sphinxes and pylons; but in the streets of the city life seemed only just really awake. the coolness, which had succeeded the heat of the summer day, tempted the citizens out into the air, in front of their doors or on the roofs and turrets of their houses; or at the tavern-tables, where they listened to the tales of the story-tellers while they refreshed them selves with beer, wine, and the sweet juice of fruits. many simple folks squatted in circular groups on the ground, and joined in the burden of songs which were led by an appointed singer, to the sound of a tabor and flute. to the south of the temple of amon stood the king's palace, and near it, in more or less extensive gardens, rose the houses of the magnates of the kingdom, among which, one was distinguished by it splendor and extent. paaker, the king's pioneer, had caused it to be erected after the death of his father, in the place of the more homely dwelling of his ancestors, when he hoped to bring home his cousin, and install her as its mistress. a few yards further to the east was another stately though older and less splendid house, which mena, the king's charioteer, had inherited from his father, and which was inhabited by his wife nefert and her mother isatuti, while he himself, in the distant syrian land, shared the tent of the king, as being his body-guard. before the door of each house stood servants bearing torches, and awaiting the long deferred return home of their masters. the gate, which gave admission to paaker's plot of ground through the wall which surrounded it, was disproportionately, almost ostentatiously, high and decorated with various paintings. on the right hand and on the left, two cedar-trunks were erected as masts to carry standards; he had had them felled for the purpose on lebanon, and forwarded by ship to pelusium on the north-east coast of egypt. thence they were conveyed by the nile to thebes. on passing through the gate one entered a wide, paved court-yard, at the sides of which walks extended, closed in at the back, and with roofs supported on slender painted wooden columns. here stood the pioneer's horses and chariots, here dwelt his slaves, and here the necessary store of produce for the month's requirements was kept. in the farther wall of this store-court was a very high doorway, that led into a large garden with rows of well-tended trees and trellised vines, clumps of shrubs, flowers, and beds of vegetables. palms, sycamores, and acacia-trees, figs, pomegranates, and jasmine throve here particularly well--for paaker's mother, setchem, superintended the labors of the gardeners; and in the large tank in the midst there was never any lack of water for watering the beds and the roots of the trees, as it was always supplied by two canals, into which wheels turned by oxen poured water day and night from the nile-stream. on the right side of this plot of ground rose the one-storied dwelling house, its length stretching into distant perspective, as it consisted of a single row of living and bedrooms. almost every room had its own door, that opened into a veranda supported by colored wooden columns, and which extended the whole length of the garden side of the house. this building was joined at a right angle by a row of store-rooms, in which the gardenproduce in fruits and vegetables, the wine-jars, and the possessions of the house in woven stuffs, skins, leather, and other property were kept. in a chamber of strong masonry lay safely locked up the vast riches accumulated by paaker's father and by himself, in gold and silver rings, vessels and figures of beasts. nor was there lack of bars of copper and of precious stones, particularly of lapis-lazuli and malachite. in the middle of the garden stood a handsomely decorated kiosk, and a chapel with images of the gods; in the background stood the statues of paaker's ancestors in the form of osiris wrapped in mummy-cloths. [the justified dead became osiris; that is to say, attained to the fullest union (henosis) with the divinity.] the faces, which were likenesses, alone distinguished these statues from each other. the left side of the store-yard was veiled in gloom, yet the moonlight revealed numerous dark figures clothed only with aprons, the slaves of the king's pioneer, who squatted on the ground in groups of five or six, or lay near each other on thin mats of palm-bast, their hard beds. not far from the gate, on the right side of the court, a few lamps lighted up a group of dusky men, the officers of paaker's household, who wore short, shirt-shaped, white garments, and who sat on a carpet round a table hardly two feet high. they were eating their evening-meal, consisting of a roasted antelope, and large flat cakes of bread. slaves waited on them, and filled their earthen beakers with yellow beer. the steward cut up the great roast on the table, offered the intendant of the gardens a piece of antelope-leg, and said: [the greeks and romans report that the egyptians were so addicted to satire and pungent witticisms that they would hazard property and life to gratify their love of mockery. the scandalous pictures in the so-called kiosk of medinet habu, the caricatures in an indescribable papyrus at turin, confirm these statements. there is a noteworthy passage in flavius vopiscus, that compares the egyptians to the french.] "my arms ache; the mob of slaves get more and more dirty and refractory." "i notice it in the palm-trees," said the gardener, "you want so many cudgels that their crowns will soon be as bare as a moulting bird." "we should do as the master does," said the head-groom, "and get sticks of ebony--they last a hundred years." "at any rate longer than men's bones," laughed the chief neat-herd, who had come in to town from the pioneer's country estate, bringing with him animals for sacrifices, butter and cheese. "if we were all to follow the master's example, we should soon have none but cripples in the servant's house." "out there lies the lad whose collar-bone he broke yesterday," said the steward, "it is a pity, for he was a clever mat-platter. the old lord hit softer." "you ought to know!" cried a small voice, that sounded mockingly behind the feasters. they looked and laughed when they recognized the strange guest, who had approached them unobserved. the new comer was a deformed little man about as big as a five-year-old boy, with a big head and oldish but uncommonly sharply-cut features. the noblest egyptians kept house-dwarfs for sport, and this little wight served the wife of mena in this capacity. he was called nemu, or "the dwarf," and his sharp tongue made him much feared, though he was a favorite, for he passed for a very clever fellow and was a good taleteller. "make room for me, my lords," said the little man. "i take very little room, and your beer and roast is in little danger from me, for my maw is no bigger than a fly's head." "but your gall is as big as that of a nile-horse," cried the cook. "it grows," said the dwarf laughing, "when a turn-spit and spoonwielder like you turns up. there--i will sit here." "you are welcome," said the steward, "what do you bring?" "myself." "then you bring nothing great." "else i should not suit you either!" retorted the dwarf. "but seriously, my lady mother, the noble katuti, and the regent, who just now is visiting us, sent me here to ask you whether paaker is not yet returned. he accompanied the princess and nefert to the city of the dead, and the ladies are not yet come in. we begin to be anxious, for it is already late." the steward looked up at the starry sky and said: "the moon is already tolerably high, and my lord meant to be home before sun-down." "the meal was ready," sighed the cook. "i shall have to go to work again if he does not remain all night." "how should he?" asked the steward. "he is with the princess bentanat." "and my mistress," added the dwarf. "what will they say to each other," laughed gardener; "your chief litterbearer declared that yesterday on the way to the city of the dead they did not speak a word to each other." "can you blame the lord if he is angry with the lady who was betrothed to him, and then was wed to another? when i think of the moment when he learnt nefert's breach of faith i turn hot and cold." "care the less for that," sneered the dwarf, "since you must be hot in summer and cold in winter." "it is not evening all day," cried the head groom. "paaker never forgets an injury, and we shall live to see him pay mena--high as he is--for the affront he has offered him. "my lady katuti," interrupted nemu, "stores up the arrears of her son-inlaw." besides, she has long wished to renew the old friendship with your house, and the regent too preaches peace. give me a piece of bread, steward. i am hungry!" "the sacks, into which mena's arrears flow seem to be empty," laughed the cook. "empty! empty! much like your wit!" answered the dwarf. "give me a bit of roast meat, steward; and you slaves bring me a drink of beer." "you just now said your maw was no bigger than a fly's head," cried the cook, "and now you devour meat like the crocodiles in the sacred tank of seeland. you must come from a world of upside-down, where the men are as small as flies, and the flies as big as the giants of the past." "yet, i might be much bigger," mumbled the dwarf while he munched on unconcernedly, "perhaps as big as your spite which grudges me the third bit of meat, which the steward--may zefa bless him with great possessions --is cutting out of the back of the antelope." "there, take it, you glutton, but let out your girdle," said the steward laughing, "i had cut the slice for myself, and admire your sharp nose." "all noses," said the dwarf, "they teach the knowing better than any haruspex what is inside a man." "how is that?" cried the gardener. "only try to display your wisdom," laughed the steward; for, if you want to talk, you must at last leave off eating." "the two may be combined," said the dwarf. "listen then! a hooked nose, which i compare to a vulture's beak, is never found together with a submissive spirit. think of the pharaoh and all his haughty race. the regent, on the contrary, has a straight, well-shaped, medium-sized nose, like the statue of amon in the temple, and he is an upright soul, and as good as the gods. he is neither overbearing nor submissive beyond just what is right; he holds neither with the great nor yet with the mean, but with men of our stamp. there's the king for us!" "a king of noses!" exclaimed the cook, "i prefer the eagle rameses. but what do you say to the nose of your mistress nefert?" "it is delicate and slender and moves with every thought like the leaves of flowers in a breath of wind, and her heart is exactly like it." "and paaker?" asked the head groom. "he has a large short nose with wide open nostrils. when seth whirls up the sand, and a grain of it flies up his nose, he waxes angry--so it is paaker's nose, and that only, which is answerable for all your blue bruises. his mother setchem, the sister of my lady katuti, has a little roundish soft--" "you pigmy," cried the steward interrupting the speaker, "we have fed you and let you abuse people to your heart's content, but if you wag your sharp tongue against our mistress, i will take you by the girdle and fling you to the sky, so that the stars may remain sticking to your crooked hump." at these words the dwarf rose, turned to go, and said indifferently: "i would pick the stars carefully off my back, and send you the finest of the planets in return for your juicy bit of roast. but here come the chariots. farewell! my lords, when the vulture's beak seizes one of you and carries you off to the war in syria, remember the words of the little nemu who knows men and noses." the pioneer's chariot rattled through the high gates into the court of his house, the dogs in their leashes howled joyfully, the head groom hastened towards paaker and took the reins in his charge, the steward accompanied him, and the head cook retired into the kitchen to make ready a fresh meal for his master. before paaker had reached the garden-gate, from the pylon of the enormous temple of amon, was heard first the far-sounding clang of hard-struck plates of brass, and then the many-voiced chant of a solemn hymn. the mohar stood still, looked up to heaven, called to his servants--"the divine star sothis is risen!" threw himself on the earth, and lifted his wards the star in prayer. the slaves and officers immediately followed his example. no circumstance in nature remained unobserved by the priestly guides of the egyptian people. every phenomenon on earth or in the starry heavens was greeted by them as the manifestation of a divinity, and they surrounded the life of the inhabitants of the nile-valley--from morning to evening--from the beginning of the inundation to the days of drought-with a web of chants and sacrifices, of processions and festivals, which inseparably knit the human individual to the divinity and its earthly representatives the priesthood. for many minutes the lord and his servants remained on their knees in silence, their eyes fixed on the sacred star, and listening to the pious chant of the priests. as it died away paaker rose. all around him still lay on the earth; only one naked figure, strongly lighted by the clear moonlight, stood motionless by a pillar near the slaves' quarters. the pioneer gave a sign, the attendants rose; but paaker went with hasty steps to the man who had disdained the act of devotion, which he had so earnestly performed, and cried: "steward, a hundred strokes on the soles of the feet of this scoffer." the officer thus addressed bowed and said: "my lord, the surgeon commanded the mat-weaver not to move and he cannot lift his arm. he is suffering great pain. thou didst break his collar-bone yesterday. "it served him right!" said paaker, raising his voice so much that the injured man could not fail to hear it. then he turned his back upon him, and entered the garden; here he called the chief butler, and said: "give the slaves beer for their night draught--to all of them, and plenty." a few minutes later he stood before his mother, whom he found on the roof of the house, which was decorated with leafy plants, just as she gave her two-years'-old grand daughter, the child of her youngest son, into the arms of her nurse, that she might take her to bed. paaker greeted the worthy matron with reverence. she was a woman of a friendly, homely aspect; several little dogs were fawning at her feet. her son put aside the leaping favorites of the widow, whom they amused through many long hours of loneliness, and turned to take the child in his arms from those of the attendant. but the little one struggled with such loud cries, and could not be pacified, that paaker set it down on the ground, and involuntarily exclaimed: "the naughty little thing!" "she has been sweet and good the whole afternoon," said his mother setchem. "she sees you so seldom." "may be," replied paaker; "still i know this--the dogs love me, but no child will come to me." "you have such hard hands." "take the squalling brat away," said paaker to the nurse. "mother, i want to speak to you." setchem quieted the child, gave it many kisses, and sent it to bed; then she went up to her son, stroked his cheeks, and said: "if the little one were your own, she would go to you at once, and teach you that a child is the greatest blessing which the gods bestow on us mortals." paaker smiled and said: "i know what you are aiming at--but leave it for the present, for i have something important to communicate to you." "well?" asked setchem. "to-day for the first time since--you know when, i have spoken to nefert. the past may be forgotten. you long for your sister; go to her, i have nothing more to say against it." setchem looked at her son with undisguised astonishment; her eyes which easily filled with tears, now overflowed, and she hesitatingly asked: "can i believe my ears; child, have you?--" "i have a wish," said paaker firmly, "that you should knit once more the old ties of affection with your relations; the estrangement has lasted long enough." "much too long!" cried setchem. the pioneer looked in silence at the ground, and obeyed his mother's sign to sit down beside her. "i knew," she said, taking his hand, "that this day would bring us joy; for i dreamt of your father in osiris, and when i was being carried to the temple, i was met, first by a white cow, and then by a wedding procession. the white ram of anion, too, touched the wheat-cakes that i offered him."--[it boded death to germanicus when the apis refused to eat out of his hand.] "those are lucky presages," said paaker in a tone of conviction. "and let us hasten to seize with gratitude that which the gods set before us," cried setchem with joyful emotion. "i will go to-morrow to my sister and tell her that we shall live together in our old affection, and share both good and evil; we are both of the same race, and i know that, as order and cleanliness preserve a house from ruin and rejoice the stranger, so nothing but unity can keep up the happiness of the family and its appearance before people. what is bygone is bygone, and let it be forgotten. there are many women in thebes besides nefert, and a hundred nobles in the land would esteem themselves happy to win you for a son-in-law." paaker rose, and began thoughtfully pacing the broad space, while setchem went on speaking. "i know," she said, that i have touched a wound in thy heart; but it is already closing, and it will heal when you are happier even than the charioteer mena, and need no longer hate him. nefert is good, but she is delicate and not clever, and scarcely equal to the management of so large a household as ours. ere long i too shall be wrapped in mummy-cloths, and then if duty calls you into syria some prudent housewife must take my place. it is no small matter. your grandfather assa often would say that a house well-conducted in every detail was a mark of a family owning an unspotted name, and living with wise liberality and secure solidity, in which each had his assigned place, his allotted duty to fulfil, and his fixed rights to demand. how often have i prayed to the hathors that they may send you a wife after my own heart." "a setchem i shall never find!" said paaker kissing his mother's forehead, "women of your sort are dying out." "flatterer!" laughed setchem, shaking her finger at her son. but it is true. those who are now growing up dress and smarten themselves with stuffs from kaft,--[phoenicia]--mix their language with syrian words, and leave the steward and housekeeper free when they themselves ought to command. even my sister katuti, and nefert-"nefert is different from other women," interrupted paaker, "and if you had brought her up she would know how to manage a house as well as how to ornament it." setchem looked at her son in surprise; then she said, half to herself: "yes, yes, she is a sweet child; it is impossible for any one to be angry with her who looks into her eyes. and yet i was cruel to her because you were hurt by her, and because--but you know. but now you have forgiven, i forgive her, willingly, her and her husband." paaker's brow clouded, and while he paused in front of his mother he said with all the peculiar harshness of his voice: "he shall pine away in the desert, and the hyaenas of the north shall tear his unburied corpse." at these words setchem covered her face with her veil, and clasped her hands tightly over the amulets hanging round her neck. then she said softly: "how terrible you can be! i know well that you hate the charioteer, for i have seen the seven arrows over your couch over which is written 'death to mena.' "that is a syrian charm which a man turns against any one whom he desires to destroy. how black you look! yes, it is a charm that is hateful to the gods, and that gives the evil one power over him that uses it. leave it to them to punish the criminal, for osiris withdraws his favor from those who choose the fiend for their ally." "my sacrifices," replied paaker, "secure me the favor of the gods; but mena behaved to me like a vile robber, and i only return to him the evil that belongs to him. enough of this! and if you love me, never again utter the name of my enemy before me. i have forgiven nefert and her mother--that may satisfy you." setchem shook her head, and said: "what will it lead to! the war cannot last for ever, and if mena returns the reconciliation of to-day will turn to all the more bitter enmity. i see only one remedy. follow my advice, and let me find you a wife worthy of you." "not now!" exclaimed paaker impatiently. "in a few days i must go again into the enemy's country, and do not wish to leave my wife, like mena, to lead the life of a widow during my existence. why urge it? my brother's wife and children are with you--that might satisfy you." "the gods know how i love them," answered setchem; "but your brother horns is the younger, and you the elder, to whom the inheritance belongs. your little niece is a delightful plaything, but in your son i should see at once the future stay of our race, the future head of the family; brought up to my mind and your father's; for all is sacred to me that my dead husband wished. he rejoiced in your early betrothal to nefert, and hoped that a son of his eldest son should continue the race of assa." "it shall be by no fault of mine that any wish of his remains unfulfilled. the stars are high, mother; sleep well, and if to-morrow you visit nefert and your sister, say to them that the doors of my house are open to them. but stay! katuti's steward has offered to sell a herd of cattle to ours, although the stock on mena's land can be but small. what does this mean?" "you know my sister," replied setchem. "she manages mena's possessions, has many requirements, tries to vie with the greatest in splendor, sees the governor often in her house, her son is no doubt extravagant--and so the most necessary things may often be wanting." paaker shrugged his shoulders, once more embraced his mother and left her. soon after, he was standing in the spacious room in which he was accustomed to sit and to sleep when he was in thebes. the walls of this room were whitewashed and decorated with pious glyphic writing, which framed in the door and the windows opening into the garden. in the middle of the farther wall was a couch in the form of a lion. the upper end of it imitated a lion's head, and the foot, its curling tail; a finely dressed lion's skin was spread over the bell, and a headrest of ebony, decorated with pious texts, stood on a high foot-step, ready for the sleeper. above the bed various costly weapons and whips were elegantly displayed, and below them the seven arrows over which setchem had read the words "death to mena." they were written across a sentence which enjoined feeding the hungry, giving drink to the thirsty, and clothing the naked; with loving-kindness, alike to the great and the humble. a niche by the side of the bed-head was closed with a curtain of purple stuff. in each corner of the room stood a statue; three of them symbolized the triad of thebes-anion, muth, and chunsu--and the fourth the dead father of the pioneer. in front of each was a small altar for offerings, with a hollow in it, in which was an odoriferous essence. on a wooden stand were little images of the gods and amulets in great number, and in several painted chests lay the clothes, the ornaments and the papers of the master. in the midst of the chamber stood a table and several stoolshaped seats. when paaker entered the room he found it lighted with lamps, and a large dog sprang joyfully to meet him. he let him spring upon him, threw him to the ground, let him once more rush upon him, and then kissed his clever head. before his bed an old negro of powerful build lay in deep sleep. paaker shoved him with his foot and called to him as he awoke-"i am hungry." the grey-headed black man rose slowly, and left the room. as soon as he was alone paaker drew the philter from his girdle, looked at it tenderly, and put it in a box, in which there were several flasks of holy oils for sacrifice. he was accustomed every evening to fill the hollows in the altars with fresh essences, and to prostrate himself in prayer before the images of the gods. to-day he stood before the statue of his father, kissed its feet, and murmured: "thy will shall be done.-the woman whom thou didst intend for me shall indeed be mine--thy eldest son's." then he walked to and fro and thought over the events of the day. at last he stood still, with his arms crossed, and looked defiantly at the holy images; like a traveller who drives away a false guide, and thinks to find the road by himself. his eye fell on the arrows over his bed; he smiled, and striking his broad breast with his fist, he exclaimed, "i--i--i--" his hound, who thought his master meant to call him, rushed up to him. he pushed him off and said--"if you meet a hyaena in the desert, you fall upon it without waiting till it is touched by my lance--and if the gods, my masters, delay, i myself will defend my right; but thou," he continued turning to the image of his father, "thou wilt support me." this soliloquy was interrupted by the slaves who brought in his meal. paaker glanced at the various dishes which the cook had prepared for him, and asked: "how often shall i command that not a variety, but only one large dish shall be dressed for me? and the wine?" "thou art used never to touch it?" answered the old negro. "but to-day i wish for some," said the pioneer." bring one of the old jars of red wine of kakem." the slaves looked at each other in astonishment; the wine was brought, and paaker emptied beaker after beaker. when the servants had left him, the boldest among them said: "usually the master eats like a lion, and drinks like a midge, but to-day--" "hold your tongue!" cried his companion, "and come into the court, for paaker has sent us out beer. the hathors must have met him." the occurrences of the day must indeed have taken deep hold on the inmost soul of the pioneer; for he, the most sober of all the warriors of rameses, to whom intoxication was unknown, and who avoided the banquets of his associates--now sat at the midnight hours, alone at his table, and toped till his weary head grew heavy. he collected himself, went towards his couch and drew the curtain which concealed the niche at the head of the bed. a female figure, with the head-dress and attributes of the goddess hathor, made of painted limestone, revealed itself. her countenance had the features of the wife of mena. the king, four years since, had ordered a sculptor to execute a sacred image with the lovely features of the newly-married bride of his charioteer, and paaker had succeeded in having a duplicate made. he now knelt down on the couch, gazed on the image with moist eyes, looked cautiously around to see if he was alone, leaned forward, pressed a kiss to the delicate, cold stone lips; laid down and went to sleep without undressing himself, and leaving the lamps to burn themselves out. restless dreams disturbed his spirit, and when the dawn grew grey, he screamed out, tormented by a hideous vision, so pitifully, that the old negro, who had laid himself near the dog at the foot of his bed, sprang up alarmed, and while the dog howled, called him by his name to wake him. paaker awoke with a dull head-ache. the vision which had tormented him stood vividly before his mind, and he endeavored to retain it that he might summon a haruspex to interpret it. after the morbid fancies of the preceding evening he felt sad and depressed. the morning-hymn rang into his room with a warning voice from the temple of amon; he cast off evil thoughts, and resolved once more to resign the conduct of his fate to the gods, and to renounce all the arts of magic. as he was accustomed, he got into the bath that was ready for him. while splashing in the tepid water he thought with ever increasing eagerness of nefert and of the philter which at first he had meant not to offer to her, but which actually was given to her by his hand, and which might by this time have begun to exercise its charm. love placed rosy pictures--hatred set blood-red images before his eyes. he strove to free himself from the temptations, which more and more tightly closed in upon him, but it was with him as with a man who has fallen into a bog, who, the more vehemently he tries to escape from the mire, sinks the deeper. as the sun rose, so rose his vital energy and his self-confidence, and when he prepared to quit his dwelling, in his most costly clothing, he had arrived once more at the decision of the night before, and had again resolved to fight for his purpose, without--and if need were--against the gods. the mohar had chosen his road, and he never turned back when once he had begun a journey. etext editor's bookmarks: blossom of the thorny wreath of sorrow eyes kind and frank, without tricks of glance money is a pass-key that turns any lock repugnance for the old laws began to take root in his heart thou canst say in words what we can only feel whether the form of our benevolence does more good or mischief moral by ludwig thoma introduction dr. ludwig thoma, perhaps better known to his bavarian countrymen as peter schlemiehl, was born in oberammergau on january 21, 1867. after graduating from a gymnasium in munich, he studied at the school of forestry at aschauffenburg. he did not finish his course there, but entered the university at munich and received his degree as doctor juris in 1893. a year later dr. thoma began to practice law; but he abandoned that pursuit in 1899 to follow a career for which his inclinations and talents so happily fitted him. he had been writing humorous verses for simplicissimus for several years under the pen name of pete schlemiehl, with such success that the paper almost became identified by that name. these poems were later published in book form under the title--grobheiten. his prose writings in bavarian dialect as well as his boyhood experiences entitled, lausbubengeschichten, won a large and warm audience. in 1899 he became the editor of simplicissimus. from then on his renown grew. the foremost critics of german letters began to take notice of this "bavarian aristophanes" and to compare him to heine and the classics. when moral and lottchen's birthday appeared, while the reviewers shook their heads and stated that dr. thoma was shocking (so in original) they concluded that their author was "casting a long shadow." to-day dr. thoma is a recognized figure in germany. prof. robert f. arnold in "das moderne drama" (strassburg, 1908) ranks him next to hauptmann. his writings are numerous. a vein, satirical and humorous, with a conception of the pathetic, makes him more than an equal to mark twain. in addition he is possessed of a message, which he delivers in the moral. first produced in 1908 the play soon became a part and parcel of the repertoire of the leading theatres in germany. it was put on for the first time in new york, in german, at the irving place theatre in the spring of 1914, through the efforts of the late heinrich matthias and the writer. mr. matthias then played the part of beermann. mr. christians, the director, repeated the performance a number of times that season, each performance meeting with a warm response. the late percival pollard was the first american critic to emphasize the importance of dr. thoma's work in his excellent resume of contemporary german literature: masks and minstrels of modern germany. he pointed out "that no country where hypocrisy or puritanism prevail as factors in the social and municipal conduct should be spared the corrective acid of this play." h. l. mencken and george jean nathan for many years have sung praises of the moral in the smart set. but its production on the english speaking stage still remains an event eagerly to be awaited. briefly, the play is a polemic against the "men higher up," churchmen, reformers, and social hypocrites. the translation follows the text implicitly. four different versions were made all varying in a degree from the original, and although dr. thoma wrote to the writer "bin auch damit einverstanden dass sie in der ubersetzung meines schauspieles 'moral' etwaige aenderungen oder adaptiereungen, die durch die englisch-amerikanischen verhaltnisse und den geschmack des amerikanischen theatrepublikums geboten erscheinen, in entsprechender weise vornehmen ..." it was deemed best for purposes of publication to try to preserve the original atmosphere without an attempt to even transpose such phrases as gnadige frau, or herr kommerzienrat. charles recht. new york, october, 1916. persons of the play fritz beermann, a wealthy landowner and banker. lena beermann, his wife. effie beermann, their daughter. kommerzienrat adolph bolland, capitalist and manufacturer clara bolland, his wife. dr. hauser, an ex-judge. frau lund, an old lady. hans jacob dobler, a poet. fraulein koch-pinneberg, an artiste. privatdozent dr. wasner, a gymnasium professor. freiherr von simbach, the police commissioner of the duchy. assessor oscar stroebel, a police official. madame ninon de hauteville, a lady of leisure. freiherr general botho von schmettau, also known as zurnberg, a gentleman-in-waiting and adjutant to his highness, the duke. joseph reisacher, a clerk of the police department. betty, a maid at beersmann's. two man-servants and a policeman. the presumption the esteemed, sensitive public will assume that the action takes place in emilsburg, the capital of the duchy of gerlestein. the first and third acts occur in the house of herr fritz beermann; the second act, in the police headquarters. it all happens between sunday afternoon and monday evening. to be free from blame, the producers will please note that: beermann is in the fifties; jovial; lively; with gray side-whiskers and chin carefully shaved. frau beermann is in the late forties, though youthful looking for her age. frau lund. sixty-eight; a woman of impressive appearance; her manner is energetic; her mass of white hair is carefully coiffured. frau bolland. about forty-five; stout; talkative. dr. wasner. a tall german professor with full blond beard; deep voiced; wears pince-nez with black tortoise shell rim and broad black cord. hans jacob dobler. is a poet; he is dressed in a poor fitting cut-away coat; unkempt mustache and van dyke beard. fraulein pinneberg, a feminist, wears a loose fitting gown. dr. hauser. fifty; smooth shaven; wears gold rimmed spectacles, von schmettau, sixty; remains stately looking with effort; military bearing. madame de hauteville--indefinitely twenty; her ultra-fashionable parisian gowns invite the cloak and suit patrons. "moral" act i further apology (card room in beermann's house. in the background a swinging door opens into the dining room. to the right a smaller door leads to the music room. on the left side another door opens into the entrance hall. to left upstage in a corner a small card table with chairs. to right upstage a large sofa and comfortable chairs. parallel to background down stage, tea table with coffee service thereon; near it to right, smaller table, on it a humidor. a butler is engaged at the tea table, another man servant is holding swinging door open. [business of getting up from table.] many voices and rattle of chairs are heard from dining room. through swinging doors enters bolland and frau beermann, beermann with frau bolland, dr. hauser with effie, dr. wasner with fraulein koch-pinneberg, dobler alone.) general greeting of "mahlzeit." dr. wasner is vigorously shaking hands--going to frau beermann says, "ich wunsche gesegnete mahlzeit." the servants pass around coffee--beermann conversing with bolland comes down stage ... bolland. you will receive two thousand votes more than the socialists. that's certain. beermann [skeptical]. no,--no. bolland. if all the liberals combine with the conservatives, the result cannot be in doubt. beermann [taking coffee from the servant]. if ... bolland. fusion is here. it's the logical development. i am an old politician. the time for discussion is over. now it's a straight fight to a finish. dr. wasner [coming nearer]. the german fatherland is rallying to the support of the national flag. beermann. but there are controversies everywhere. i know best. i always am told by campaign managers: don't say this and don't say that. bolland. in what way? beermann. for instance, i'm to speak at the liberal club the day after to-morrow. you would not expect me to say the same things i told the conservatives last night ...? bolland. your details, of course, must differ. but fundamentally it amounts to the same thing. beermann. the same thing? believe me, all this masking confuses me. [drinks.] effie [calling across the tea table where she has been standing with others]. papa! listen to frau bolland. she also says that the indian dancer is so interesting. frau bolland. positively won--derful, herr bolland! you can conceive the entire spirit of the orient. effie. why haven't we gone to see her? frau bolland. you surely ought to go. professor stohr--you know him--told me he never in his life saw anything so gorgeous. fraulein koch-pinneberg. she's so picturesque in her greenish gowns. frau bolland. i did not know that the hindoos could be so charming. beermann. we'll have a look at her some night. effie. but to-morrow night is her last appearance. beermann [going to the humidor]. very well darling. will you remind me of it to-morrow? [taking a box of cigars offers one to dobler who is standing near him.] smoke? dobler [taking one]. thanks. but i am not accustomed to the imported ones. beermann [patronizingly]. you'll get used to high living soon enough. bolland [to dobler]. how long have you been in the city now? dobler. two years. bolland. and before that you were in ... eh? frau bolland. you must excuse him herr dobler. why in unterschlettenbach, dear ... you know that! bolland [correcting himself]. certainly. bit of literary history. mighty interesting place that unterschlettenbach ... eh? dobler. hardly, herr kommerzienrat. poor and unsanitary. most of its inhabitants are miners. bolland. fancy that! and i never knew it. full of miners! tell me though, what do you think of our set here ...? how do you like this well-to-do circle ... the big city ... wealthy surroundings? dobler [lighting a cigar]. i like it well enough. but i think i will always feel out of place here. bolland. can't get used to it? dobler. everything is so different. it seems to me at times as though i had suddenly entered a beautiful house while outdoors my old comrade was awaiting me patiently--the open road. frau bolland. isn't that won--derful? so very re-a-lis-tic-ally put! i can just picture it. oh herr dobler ... i must tell you: your novel--my husband and i talk about it all day long. bolland. tell me though--did you yourself experience the life of that young man you describe? dobler. it's the story of my youth. bolland. but it's somewhat colored by poetic imagination? dobler. n---o. bolland. for instance, you have never actually starved? dobler. oh, yes. there's no imagination in that. bolland. just the way you describe it--so that everything turned red? dobler. everything had a pink color. on one occasion i did not eat anything for four and one-half days. frau beermann [compassionately]. you poor thing! frau bolland. that's exceedingly interesting! bolland. do tell us all about it! then you saw dancing fires? dobler. yes. everything danced before my eyes, and i saw it all through a hazy veil, and towards the end my hearing was affected. bolland. you don't say so? your hearing also? dobler. when any one spoke to me it sounded as if he stood a great distance off--a great distance. frau bolland. our set never dreams of such things. beermann. how did it all turn out? dobler. what do you mean? beermann. well, in the end you got something to eat again? dobler. finally i fainted; i was found lying in a meadow, and was taken to the hospital. frau beermann [sighing]. are such things still possible in our day? frau bolland. what can you expect--of these idealists! dr. hauser. they deserve nothing better. beermann. and after you were in the hospital--how did you get out? dobler. as soon as i got stronger. later on i became a printer--found a position--studied and published my book. beermann. that's all in your novel, i know. but the part where you describe how you were a tramp--that's not true? dobler. yes, i "hoboed" almost a whole year. frau bolland. "hoboed!" fancy that! how unique! fraulein koch-pinneberg. i can just picture it. tramping along the railroad tracks. dobler. yes. you folks think you can picture it with four square meals a day. but it's quite different, i assure you. there were three of us at that time. we worked our way from basel upwards--sometimes on the left--sometimes on the right bank of the rhine. in worms we spent the last of our money and we had to peddle for hand-outs. frau bolland [not understanding him]. "handouts?" what is that? dobler [with pathos]. to beg for something to eat, gnadige frau, for our daily bread. [they all remain silent. only the voice of the butler who is serving liqueur can be heard.] "cognac monsieur! chartreuse! champagne?" beermann [taking a glass]. to a man of refinement, such an existence must have been quite unbearable. dobler [taking a glass of cognac from the butler]. unpleasant. [drinking.] but you lose your sensitiveness. at first it is hard--but one learns. in one hot day on the road ... when you get fagged out--and with every stone hurting your feet--you'll learn. the dust blinds you--but you've got to go on just the same. in the evening you come to a small hamlet with smoke curling above the house-tops and the houses themselves look cozy--then you have to hold your hat in your hand and beg for a plate of warm soup. [a short pause.] dr. wasner [deep bass voice]. home sweet home! bolland. the story reminds me exactly of my late father. frau bolland. but, adolph! bolland. indeed, i say it does! frau bolland. how can you draw such a comparison? herr dobler has become a celebrated poet. bolland. my father also achieved something in life. at his funeral four hundred employees followed the coffin. frau bolland [impatiently]. we've heard that before ... herr dobler, did you write poetry in those days? dobler. no, frau bolland. much later. frau bolland. i'll have to read your novel all over again, now that i know it is all autobiographical. frau beermann [to dr. wasner]. you were going to sing, herr professor? dr. wasner. i promised ... frau beermann. yes, do, effie will accompany you. dr. wasner. if fraulein will be so kind ... but i don't know how my voice is to-day ... frau bolland. you sing so beauti-ful-ly. dr. wasner. so much campaign work. politics corrupts even the voice. fraulein koch-pinneberg. do oblige us. [frau bolland, frau beermann, dr. wasner, fraulein koch, effie go out into the music room.] beermann. it's a pity that the professor is going to sing. we could have started a game of skat. have some more cognac? dr. hauser. no, thanks. dobler. thanks. no more for me. [bolland seats himself on sofa; dr. hauser and dobler sit in chairs; beermann lights a fresh cigar. the butler goes into the music room and as he opens the door, the sound of the piano is heard.] bolland. as i said before herr dobler, your story reminded me very much of my late father. dr. hauser. of the well known kommerzienrat bolland? bolland [sinks deep into chair; crosses legs]. never mind he was not always a wealthy kommerzienrat. [turning to dobler.] picture to yourself a winter landscape--it's bitter cold--a gray sky--it is snowing and everything is wrapped in snow. through all this we see a youth walking--rather staggering--along the forest road from perleberg. a half starved young man. [he pauses and brushes ashes from his cigar. the butler enters from the music room to get a glass of water; then he goes out again. while the door is open, the trembling bass baritone voice of prof. wasner is heard.] "in deinen augen hab ich einst gelesen von lieb' und--gluck--von lieb' und gluck den schein...." [footnote: (translated):--"in thy dear eyes i once read the story of love and joy--of love, and joy agleam...."] [the door closes and the sound is shut off.] bolland [now continues his speech]. and now the snow falls faster and faster. this poor young man had par tout nothing to eat since the morning. he becomes very weak; sits down on a bundle of twigs and falls asleep. just by sheer chance it happens that a man from perleberg passing by sees this dejected, snowed-in figure and takes the young fellow home with him. [he pauses.] and this young man later became my father ... hauser. and herr kommerzienrat bolland. bolland. yes. herr kommerzienrat bolland. [to dobler.] now don't you consider it quite remarkable? wouldn't that make a fine novel? dobler. yes ... yes. bolland. that could be worked up very nicely, couldn't it? a poor young man--the snow covered landscape ... hauser. and that bundle of twigs. dobler. fortune has her unique whims and likes to turn the tables. bolland. that's it exactly. fortune delights in turning the tables. hauser. unique whims? no. that sort of thing happens every day. bolland. what happens every day? hauser. the story of a poor young man who becomes a millionaire. every large factory boasts of a like progenitor. bolland. do you think so? hauser. and the poor young man grows poorer with each telling. your son, herr bolland, in his description will have his grandfather freeze to death on the bundle of twigs. bolland. upon my word the story is gospel. [to dobler.] i'd make use of that plot ... how he founded his business and how it grew and grew ... [as frau beermann enters from the music room, the tremulous voice of prof. wasner is heard.] "behuet dich gott, es hat nicht sollen sein." [footnote: god guard thee well, it was but a dream.] [the closing of the door shuts off the sound.] dobler. in one respect you are right. the character of the self made man [footnote: so in original.] has hardly been treated in contemporary german literature. bolland [with enthusiasm]. that's just what i claim. always about the poor people only. but take a man who has a large income--one who makes a success of his business, that also is poetry. hauser. i'd have my ledger novelized, if i were you, holland. [a maid opens door, admitting frau lund.] frau beermann [welcoming frau lund]. mama lund, how good of you. frau lund [vivaciously]. always glad to come here. good afternoon, gentlemen. where is my little effie? frau beermann. in the music room. [to the maid.] please tell my daughter ... frau lund. no, no, don't disturb her. beermann. permit me. [introducing.] ... herr hans jacob dobler, our famous poet ... frau lund [taking his hand]. a famous poet? delighted. bolland. author of "life story of hans." ... frau lund [pleasantly to dobler]. if i were younger, herr dobler, i would certainly make believe that i read your book. but at my age i find that sort of thing too tiresome. what is the "life story of hans"? dobler. it is a novel, gnadige frau. bolland. a masterpiece. frau lund. then my ignorance is unpardonable. i'll soon make reparation. [frau bolland followed by effie, dr. wasner and fraulein koch hurry out of the music room.] frau bolland. i am off for the arts club. i'll be late, i fear. [to frau lund.] oh, how do you do, frau lund? effie [hurries over to frau lund and kisses her hand]. mama lund! frau lund. how is my little mischief maker? when are you coming to see me? effie. i would glady come ... but, i am so busy with music lessons and professor stohr's lectures ... frau lund. and this and that and your eighteen years. you are quite right, my dear. frau bolland [to frau beermann]. may effie come along? they say there are very won-der-ful paintings at the arts club. frau beermann [turning to frau lund], i don't know if ... frau lund. of course, let her go along. she has such a pretty little dress. why should she be here with us old people? the gentlemen will entertain us ... frau bolland. but then we'll have to hurry. it is quite late. goodbye, frau beermann. i enjoyed myself so much. goodbye, my dear frau lund. so glad to have seen you again. goodbye, goodbye ... adolph! bolland. yes, mother. frau bolland. you won't forget the theatre tonight? at eight. the viennese actor is so fine. [off to left. followed by effie and fraulein koch. frau bolland in the doorway.] frau bolland. will you come with us, herr dobler? you can explain so many things. dobler. i'll be glad to. [shaking hands with frau beermann and bowing.] beermann. come soon again, herr poet. bolland. and think over the story i told you. [dobler goes out left, following frau bolland, effie, and fraulein koch.] frau lund [to frau beermann]. i'll just have a cup of coffee. frau beermann. i'll tell them to make a fresh cup for you. a fresh cup of coffee. [to the butler who is clearing the table.] tell the chef--[butler goes out through the middle door. in the meantime frau holland again appears through left.] frau bolland. adolph! bolland. yes--wifey? frau bolland. thursday the circus comes to town, don't forget to reserve seats. bolland. all right! frau bolland [while going out]. i'm still a child when the circus comes. [frau lund seats herself on sofa. next to her on the right frau beermann; beermann and bolland sit opposite in large leather chairs. hauser is standing behind the sofa leaning against it.] frau lund [to hauser]. tell me judge, where have you been keeping yourself all this time? hauser. in my office, frau lund, only in my office. but i hear that you were on the riviera. frau lund. four weeks in monte carlo. children, i gambled like an old viveur. beermann. what luck? frau lund. i lost, of course--i'm too old to set the world on fire. but, beermann, i hear all sorts of surprises about you. you are a candidate for the reichstag? beermann. yes, they nominated me. frau lund. who are "they"? beermann. the combined liberals and conservatives ... hauser. and the conservatives and liberals combined. frau lund. formerly these were distinct parties. hauser. formerly,--formerly. beermann. now there is fusion. frau lund [to frau beermann]. you never told me that your husband was in politics. frau beermann. he never was--up to two weeks ago. frau lund. how quickly things change! and of all the people ... you! beermann. what's so startling in that? frau lund. you told me that you never even read the newspapers. bolland. we all are cordially grateful to beermann that in an hour of need he made this sacrifice. frau lund. the way you talk about the "hour of need" and "sacrifice" herr kommerzienrat, it seems to me that you would have been the better candidate. bolland. oh, i am too pronouncedly liberal. hauser. and that's an incurable disease! bolland. at any rate it makes my nomination impossible. a man was needed who was not known as a party-man. frau lund. it would seem then that our friend beermann has become a politician because he ... is no politician? hauser. that's what is known as "fusion." beermann. allow me to ask a question. why should i not become a reichstag deputy? hauser. quite right! frau lund--tell him--why shouldn't he? beermann. because i am a novice in politics? we all have to make a start. hauser. it's the only calling where one can start any day, frau lund, without being called upon to produce qualifications. bolland. there you can tell the lawyer. you'd like to establish a civil service examination for members of the reichstag? hauser. you are not afraid that it might hurt them? beermann [with importance]. let me tell you, judge. what a person achieves in real life is far greater than all your book wisdom. we have too many lawyers anyway. it's one of our national misfortunes. frau lund [merrily to frau beermann]. look! he's beginning to debate already. bolland [careless pose]. as you know, i run a soap factory where i employ four hundred and sixty-two workmen ... let me repeat it, four hundred and sixty-two workmen. their livelihood and welfare lies in the palm of my hand; don't you think that requires brains? hauser. but ... bolland [interrupting]. do you realize what the amount of detail and the management of the whole factory means? hauser. but friend beermann never even worked in a soap factory. how can that apply to him? beermann. oh, what's the use of discussing things if you're joking. hauser. really, i can't see the connection. beermann. at any rate, i'm a better candidate than the book-binder whom the socialists have put up against me. bolland. beermann has had greater experience and has a broader point of view. frau lund. then there's something else i heard about herr beermann, that i don't like at all. beermann. about me? frau lund. yes, i bear that you are the president of the new society for the suppression of vice. what makes you do such things? that isn't nice. frau beermann. i fully agree with you. beermann. you do? for what reasons? when honest men select me as their president, is that mere flattery? frau lund. it is not becoming to you, and you are insincere in it. frau beermann. it's as false as anything can be, and you speak about problems which you have never understood. beermann. pardon me! i ought to know best what is becoming for me. frau lund. there's no one in the world i dislike as much as a preacher. but if a person wants to be one ... then, according to the gospel he ought to live on bread and water. it doesn't go well with champagne and lobster. beermann. do the scriptures command that we must be poor to be honorable? frau lund. no, beermann, but if i still remember, they speak of a camel and a needle. bolland. the ladies evidently are not acquainted with the purposes of our new society. i am sure they would subscribe to every one of the principles which are incorporated in our by-laws. frau lund. i certainly would not. bolland [feeling in his side pocket]. at least read our "appeal to the public." frau lund [refusing]. no, thank you. bolland. every woman will rejoice when she reads it. frau lund. do you think so? how exceedingly amusing your societies are! so, cards and bowling no longer offer sufficient entertainment. you have to moralize. hauser. i can't help thinking of the notorious starvation freak at the circus who gets his meals on the sly everyday. dr. wasner. of course, every conviction can be made ridiculous once it's regarded as insincere. you shouldn't accuse without proof. hauser. herr professor, politeness requires that each individual be regarded as the exception--but not an entire club. bolland. it is a pity, indeed, that a great movement like ours is disposed of by a few trifling remarks. that embitters our task of curing the nation of social diseases. frau lund. where did you get your doctor's license to cure? dr. wasner. it's sad enough that the cure is left to only a few of us. hauser. well, i'll remain a patient. you'll need a few anyway to keep up your business. beermann. i consider all this a very cheap kind of humor. i used to joke about these matters myself, but if you will only look upon this problem from a serious point of view, when your eyes are opened to the ... frau beermann.... your newly acquired ways of talking are quite unbearable. beermann. please, don't make a scene. frau beermann. we have been married for twenty-six years; have been very fortunate with our own children. why worry about other people? beermann. you are not logical, my love. the mere fact that i brought up my children properly is all the more reason for my joining this movement.... frau beermann. you didn't lose much sleep about their education. beermann. evidently i didn't neglect anything. frau lund. i'm afraid you pride yourselves on a degree of willpower you never exercised. beermann. never exercised? my dear frau lund, what do you know about the temptations which confront us men. what does a woman know about them? frau lund. the only thing we women don't know about is the manner in which these temptations terminate. beermann. our movement intends to do away with these very deceptions. we want to protect the traditions of the home which women treasure. frau lund. no. we, women also treasure modesty. we dislike to see men pretend to have better morals than they actually have. beermann. seriously, frau lund. public immorality must hurt you more. frau lund. you are mistaken. it requires a genuine manly feeling to sympathize with misery. dr. wasner. misery and vice are different problems. frau lund. they're not. and that is why we will never agree. frau beermann. all the more reason why my husband should not set himself up as an example. he knows nothing of worry or care. beermann. we can never subscribe to frau lund's principles. frau lund. no principles, please! bolland. out of sheer opposition you will say that you hold different ones from us. frau lund. no. i will say that i hold none at all. bolland. and wasner [together]. but, gnadige frau! frau lund. i can't help it. i lost them some place on my journey through life. i have learned that all your principles have loop holes through which people can conveniently slip out and take their friends along with them. so i had my choice of either surrendering them or dishonestly preaching them to others. dr. wasner. real principles of life are never given up. hauser [with sarcasm]. cheers from the gallery! bolland. principles of morality are the laws of nature--they are her dictates. frau lund. is that the reason you have started your society for the suppression of vice? do you imagine your by-laws are stronger than the laws of nature? dr. wasner. may i make just one remark? beermann. what is it? dr. wasner [stroking his beard]. in summing up the matter we can come to this decision: women have a beautiful privilege. certain facts in life remain a closed book to them. we, men, unfortunately have to come into contact with them. hauser. did you say unfortunately? dr. wasner. please don't interrupt. i maintain "unfortunately"! for the last four years, i have been persistently following obscene literature, and to-day i have gotten together a collection of it, which i dare say is pretty complete. so i am speaking of matters about which i am thoroughly informed. [with importance.] the degree of vulgarity our people have reached is incredible. frau lund. and you have been the "persistent collector" of this vulgarity? dr. wasner. let me assure you that i took upon myself this task with loathing. hauser. herr professor, in all my life i have never met a man who for four years voluntarily did something which was loathsome to him. dr. wasner. you have no business to make such a remark. hauser. have you derived no satisfaction from it at all? dr. wasner. satisfaction--if you mean the satisfaction of participating in the uplift of our people. frau lund. uplift? our reformers capitalize our national lack of good taste. good proof of that are the moral works of art which you patronize. dr. wasner. the matter we are discussing is more serious than reforming bad taste. frau lund. there is nothing more serious. dr. wasner [knowingly]. if you but knew, frau lund! frau lund. i don't have to call and see your collection. frankly, to me, the most obscene picture in your gallery could not be more disgusting than the talk you carry on in your meetings. beermann. oh! oh! frau lund. the nudity of the human body is not disgusting. it is the nudity of your mind. no vice is as repulsive as that virtue of yours which loudly uncovers itself in public--in market places. vice has at least the shame to hide itself. beermann [to bolland]. can you understand her? bolland. i must admit, i can't. dr. wasner. gnadige frau stated that vice hides itself. but in spite of that it exists. bolland. yes, she admitted that it exists. dr. wasner. shall we tolerate it merely because it crawls into dark nooks and corners? frau lund. you reformers! let more sunshine into this world and vice will not find so many dark corners and nooks to hide in. bolland. you would not be as opposed to us if you had a son who would be exposed to the temptations of our great cities. frau lund. i would be ashamed of myself if for personal reasons i became narrow-minded. beermann. but just stop to think! picture a healthy young man in his prime falling into the hands of one of these abominable creatures! frau lund. i could picture something worse than that. beermann. still worse? frau lund. for instance, if he should, with all the credulity of youth, enter into the work of your society. bolland. well! well! beermann. you don't seem to take anything seriously to-day. frau lund. very seriously; this young man perhaps does reach the stage where he sincerely pities your so-called abominable creature. then he has really advanced in his morality. let the pity impress itself deeply upon him and your abominable creature has preached better to him than all your high-sounding phrases. bolland. i am simply dumbfounded. dr. wasner. then you even believe that our society exerts a bad influence? frau lund [very positively]. yes. bolland [with irony]. fancy! university professors, philanthropists and a general who are with us in this work--they are, of course, the ones who are likely to corrupt the morals of the younger generation. frau lund, no doubt, would like to send our young men to the good ladies of the pavement. dr. wasner. in what way is our influence bad? frau lund [with warmth]. the young man who joins your society does it only to ape you and to advance his own ends and vainglory. he forever deprives himself of understanding the meaning of life and of becoming helpful to those who suffer. bolland. well what do you think of such statements? frau beermann. they are splendid. i would be very thankful if my boy would embody the ideals of frau lund. beermann. lena, i simply forbid you to say such things. frau beermann. really? beermann. everybody knows that frau lund is a radical, but i don't want you to fall into that habit. frau beermann. i don't acquire new habits as rapidly as you. hauser [to beermann]. don't get excited. a politician must give everyone an opportunity to express his views. dr. wasner. i teach young people and i heartily wish they'd continue to seek their ideals among high minded men and not in the dark city streets. bolland. right! and not in the dark city streets. frau lund. nor there, herr kommerzienrat, where the veil of shame is rudely torn from inborn sensitiveness and it is shorn of every secret charm. dr. wasner. correct! we do want to deprive it of its charm. frau lund. you succeed in doing that; no tenderness can survive the brutal frankness of your meetings. dr. wasner. it is not a national german trait to sugar-coat sin. frau lund. why do you confound all lack of refinement with the national character? dr. wasner. because it is good german to call a spade a spade. beermann [getting up]. why argue to no purpose? let's start our game of skat. bolland. because it appears to be a conflict of two different philosophies. beermann [rises, goes to card table, opens a drawer, takes out a deck of cards and opens them]. it's always the same old story. never start anything with women! they must have the last word. [sits down at card table. bolland gets up and sits beside him.] frau lund [laughing]. spoken again like a typical reformer. dr. wasner [rising]. i don't want to continue this argument, but if by any chance you have gained the impression that i regard this matter from a prejudiced view point, i will cheerfully admit it. i do. beermann [calling]. oh, do come on, herr professor. dr. wasner [turning to card table]. i'm coming. [to others.] i admit with pride that i am prejudiced. for me there exists only one question: how can i best serve my fatherland? bolland. herr professor! dr. wasner [turning to table]. just a moment.... [to others.] let the sturdy qualities of our people be conserved. that stand is unassailable. then i will be sure that my efforts have at least ... beermann [loudly]. but, my dear wasner! wasner [not dismayed, continuing].... at least a national scope. hauser. wouldn't you rather play skat, professor? wasner [going over to card table]. there remains only one thing for me to say. if i have used sharp words, i want to apologize. [takes a seat.] beermann. you deal, professor. dr. wasner [shuffling the cards and talking at the same time]. for me there exists but one ideal. that which tacitus described as it once prevailed among the old teutons. quamquam severa illic matrimonia nec ullam morum partem magis laudaveris. [he lets bolland cut and then deals.] the most praiseworthy trait of the teutons was the strictness of their marriage customs. nam prope soli barbarorum singulis uxoribus contenti sunt. they were almost the only barbarians to content themselves with a single wife. beermann [loudly]. tournee! bolland. i'll go you! beermann. twenty! bolland. i'll better that! beermann. take it! gras-solo! [they play.] [hauser, frau lund, frau beermann remain sitting at right.] frau lund. at last the fatherland is saved. frau beermann. it's the only occupation for which nature intended them. they should not tinker with national problems. hauser. have patience. political ambition dies out after the first defeat. frau beermann.... which i hope will happen. hauser. that's as certain as fate. else he never would have been nominated. beermann [calling from the card table]. i have pretty sharp hearing! hauser. a very fine acquisition, beermann, when you grow old. bolland [throwing a card on the table]. fifty-nine and four make sixty-three! the rest you can take. (they throw down their cards; bolland collects them and shuffles.) wasner [half turning to hauser], and then there is the celebrated passage, "ergo septa pudicitia agunt, nullis ... spectaculorum illecebris corruptae." beermann. i have six cards. bolland. the bottom one belongs to the professor. wasner [as before, continuing]. so the wife lived surrounded by tenderness and care ... and so forth, "literarum secreta...." secret communications were not tolerated by either husband or wife. beermann. please drop that tacitus. it's your chance to lead.... wasner. i pass.... holland. so do i. bolland [loudly and enthusiastically]. that's the way to get at them! trumps! and trumps again. wasner [murmuring]. "paucissima adulteria in tam numerosa gente...." [gradually lapses into silence and then continues to play with energy.] frau lund [with a glance towards the card table]. why do we take our principles so seriously.... it's really ridiculous how our every opinion soon turns into religious beliefs. wasner. the matter is dead serious. frau lund. who will think of it to-morrow? hauser [nodding towards card table]. not they, of course. but there are cleverer people. the so-called thinking public in germany must have some national problem to solve. it finds some such, readily enough in order to play with it. meanwhile they take no notice that the party in power [footnote: men with the brass buttons.] are lining their pockets. frau lund. haven't they always been doing that? hauser. yes, but not with such ease. here and there they were rapped over the knuckles. but nowadays they could cart away the entire capitol. frau lund. there's not so much left to-day. hauser. a couple of pieces anyhow to take along as keepsakes. frau lund. in my days i saw one reform after another on the bargain counter; but we women remain mere spectators while ideals come and go; we can not realize how much they mean to men. hauser. my dear frau lund, if a real reform should effectively rise among us some day, then you women will have to lend a helping hand. with those [nodding towards card-table] kindergarten heroes nothing can be accomplished. frau beermann. what influence can we exert so long as men organize their societies for the protection of women's virtue! hauser. these henpecked gentlemen always nominate themselves chastity's guardians. frau beermann. they are of importance only when they can get some one to listen. i'd like to go to their meetings and tell them that. hauser. their meetings--bosh! their sort only couple their nonsense with a few self-evident generalities which no one would really oppose. no, first of all they must be educated and that you women alone can accomplish. frau lund. you say that as if we had any influence on public opinion. hauser. you do all the applauding. the whole game is played for you. if you withdraw your applause not a single one of the peacocks of virtue will open up his gospel feathers for exhibition. it is indeed of great importance to you that they do not banish all refinement from our social life. frau lund [citing]. [footnote: in original "frau lund [zitierend]. "ja, da eur wonnedienst noch glanzte, wie ganz anders, anders war es da! da man deine tempel noch bekranzte.... dr. wasner [hat beim zitieren der schillerischer verse heruber gehorcht und fallt nun mit tiefen basse ein].... venus amathusia."] "yes, while still thy sanctuaries of pleasure crowned this earth like in arcadia joy had no penalty nor trader's measure...." dr. wasner [when the citation began listened over his cards, now falls in with deep bass]. "... venus amathusia." bolland [angrily breaking in]. man alive, why didn't you play your ace of spades? if you had brought out that ace you'd have a trump--then you'd beat this with a trump ... and then another trum.... beermann. now, beloved friends and countrymen, no post-mortem speeches. [while dealing cards.] you cut, bolland. bolland [cutting cards]. make use of your trumps, herr professor. i am trying to play into your hands. dr. wasner. i thought ... bolland. you didn't. if you had you'd play differently. beermann [speaking to frau lund, while dealing]. how far have you gotten with your moralizing? have we agreed yet--[laughing.] yes; yes; these women folks! wasner [arranging cards in his hand]. they were citing schiller a moment ago. we must not forget, ladies, that it was schiller himself who awakened the national spirit of our race. hauser. your national spirit unfortunately found its way into the strangest kinds of containers. dr. wasner. i decidedly protest against such a poor opinion. if the sincere religious sentiment of the german element ... bolland [interrupting him]. we are waiting for you, herr professor. are you finally going to announce your cards? dr. wasner [continuing his pathetic tone]. i pass. hauser. the steady contact with school children keeps our educators refreshingly naive. that man still believes in the superiority of the teutonic element. frau lund. and in the stability of our special german moral standard. hauser. until some little scandal crops up again. by the way, we shall soon have one right in our city. frau beermann [with interest]. here? hauser. to-morrow you'll read all about it in the newspapers. the police have made a discovery which may prove more than they bargained for. frau beermann. here? [beerman, head sideways, listens over his cards.] hauser. last night the police arrested a woman who kept a very open house. she colored it by going under a fancy french name, and they say only entertained the best of society. she kept a diary which fell into the hands of the police. beermann [he leaves his seat, comes forward, right]. a diary? bolland [drops his cards and rises]. what sort of a diary? hauser. oh! just a naughty little inventory of all of her visitors. beermann. what is the name of the lady? hauser. some french name which sounds to me like rouge. beermann. i can't understand how you could forget her name. bolland. i can't either as long as you seem to know all about it. frau beermann [to beermann]. but, fritz, why should you worry about it? beermann. well ... am i the president of the vice suppression society or, am i not ...? curtain act ii (an office at police headquarters. to rear on the left stands the assessor's desk. to the right against the wall, the desk of reisacher, the police clerk. left front is a sofa with two chairs. on the right wall is a telephone. side entrance left. another entrance in the middle. stroebel and reisacher are seated with their backs to one another. stroebel is reading a newspaper; reisacher is writing. short pause.) stroebel [half turning]. reisacher! reisacher [also turning]. yes, herr assessor.[footnote: an assessor is a petty police official.] stroebel. are you familiar with the expression "those higher up"? reisacher. yes, herr assessor. stroebel. what do you understand by it? reisacher. those are the folks who are something and have money somewhere. stroebel. is it used to express contempt or class hatred? reisacher [eagerly]. well ... well! "the higher ups" are respected. stroebel. are you certain? reisacher. absolutely. [they both turn around to their former positions; stroebel continues to read, and reisacher to write. short pause.] stroebel [half turning]. reisacher! reisacher [does likewise]. yes, herr assessor. stroebel. after all, it means class hatred. reisacher. no, no. stroebel. pay attention. here it says [he reads]: "of course, for those higher up there are no laws." that means, i take it, that the rich are beyond the control of the law. by "control of the law," i wish you to understand i am attacking the humiliating and anarchistic notion that the law does not apply equally to rich and poor. also i want to besmirch the rich, by designating them by a slang expression. reisacher. yes, herr assessor. stroebel. then how can you say it does not express class hatred and contempt? reisacher. because, then again, you see, people who have money are respected anyway. stroebel. you will never learn to think precisely, reisacher. reisacher. yes, herr assessor. [both resume their former positions. short pause. police commissioner, freiherr van simbach, enters left. stroebel lays aside his paper, rises and salutes. reisacher writes hurriedly.] commissioner [footnote: president of police, in original.] 'morning, herr assessor. [to reisacher.] take your work outside, reisacher, until i have finished. [reisacher exit through middle door.] i want to ask you a few questions, herr stroebel. [stroebel bows. the commissioner during the conversation takes center of stage and speaks nonchalantly and somewhat drawingly.] i read your report. day before yesterday, that was on saturday, you ordered the arrest of a certain woman. stroebel. yes, commissioner. commissioner. well, what about her? stroebel. according to the report of lieutenant schmuttermaier, we have in our hands a very dangerous person. commissioner. is that so! stroebel. within a short time she has almost demoralized our city. commissioner. she has been in the city about three or four years.... stroebel. she has, according to the report. commissioner. in what way has she been dangerous? did bald headed gentlemen loosen up a bit in her house or are there special charges against her? stroebel. no special ones, but her whole behavior. she had a beautiful apartment in the best residential district. according to the report, the neighbors began to talk about her. she dressed in a rather fast and fashionable manner.... commissioner. then because she did not cater to the common people, you consider her so terrible? stroebel. no, commissioner. commissioner. i thought not. remember, please, i don't want you to get any of the popular ideas about the corruption of our best society. slit skirts cause as much harm. [stroebel bows.] what is her name? stroebel. ninon de hauteville. but her real name is therese hochstetter. commissioner. h-a-u-t-e v-i-l-l-e? stroebel. she comes of a good family. her father was a peruvian consul. when he lost his money, she married a consular secretary. he divorced her four years ago. commissioner. indeed. so she is a person of refinement. stroebel. but she has ... commissioner.... a demoralizing influence. i know all about that. tell me, what made you arrest her? stroebel [with importance]. eight days ago, i received a letter severely rebuking the police because her place was tolerated.... commissioner. who was the letter from? stroebel [hesitatingly']. it was ... really ... anonymous. commissioner. i hope that you are very careful about anonymous communications. stroebel. generally, i pay little attention to them. but this letter was so full of details, i simply had to consider it. of course, only as a hint and i intended to get proof. i gave it to schmuttermaier and told him to keep the hochstetter woman under strict surveillance. saturday at noon we obtained positive evidence, commissioner. then? stroebel. then i ordered schmuttermaier to raid the place ... commissioner.... during which you found a diary in her apartments? stroebel. yes, commissioner; a diary with the names of her visitors. the dates and their social standing. everything. commissioner. have you finished reading it? stroebel. no, sir. i just glanced at it. i only got it from schmuttermaier an hour ago. i was not in the office yesterday. commissioner [thoughtfully]. it's too late to do anything to-day. [consulting his watch.] let me see. bring me an exact report of all important names contained in the diary ... at ten to-morrow morning. stroebel. yes, commissioner, at ten o'clock. commissioner. and remember, it's very important that you make this report personally. don't let the clerk see the diary. it has not yet been in his hands? stroebel [going to his desk]. no. it's locked up in my desk. commissioner. time enough to bring it to me tomorrow morning when you make your report. stroebel. how do you want me to get my data, commissioner? shall i summon the important people involved? commissioner [with emphasis]. only ... the important ... names ... that's all. by the way, how far have you gone in the case? have you taken any further steps? stroebel. no. i will examine the hochstetter woman in a little while.... commissioner. and schmuttermaier? has he orders to make any further raids? stroebel. not yet. i want to read the diary first. commissioner. above all, i do not want him to act without instructions. people of no importance like to do important things. stroebel. yes, commissioner. your orders will be carried out. commissioner. orders? i never give orders. you have your duties to perform. i don't care to tell you what to do.... but there must be no further raids until i have seen the diary. stroebel. certainly, commissioner. commissioner. at the same time, don't neglect your duty. stroebel. i will do everything necessary for the promotion of public decency. commissioner [who has been pacing the room, turns suddenly.] public decency? very well, very well.... [short pause.] we occupy a most peculiar position do we not, herr stroebel? [stroebel bows.] we know fully the existing difference between official ... and let me say ... personal sensitiveness, do we not? [stroebel bows in accord.] i mention this merely because you spoke of public decency. there is a decency about which you and i privately might have most interesting discussions. as far as i am concerned, such decency can be without limits. but there is another--the public decency--which it is our business to police. this has its very precise limits. for example, a scandal. scandal of any description. am i right, herr assessor? stroebel [clicks his heels together]. certainly, commissioner. commissioner. that brings me to another matter. for the past few weeks, there has been in the city, a so-called society for the suppression of vice. have you any sympathy with these people? stroebel. i know of their aims ... commissioner. their aims do not interest me a bit. i mean, do you personally cooperate with them? stroebel. not ... yet. commissioner. not yet? ... hem! ... this society is likely to interest itself in this case. if someone comes to see me, herr stroebel, i will refer him to you. [stroebel bows.] kindly bear this one thing in mind. these men have political ambition, and are playing to the press. on the whole the thing shows conservative tendencies. stroebel. certainly, commissioner. commissioner. welcome them with open arms. agree gratefully to every suggestion for the betterment of the people, et cetera. listen with respectful appreciation but do nothing further. stroebel [uncertain]. nothing further? ... commissioner. no ... nothing further. stroebel. yes, commissioner. commissioner. these people must remain assured that they wield a great influence. as a matter of fact, they have none at all and it's a good thing they haven't. stroebel. so, i may ... commissioner.... do everything you can be responsible for. as a matter of principle, i do not like to give orders. you will submit that report then [consulting his watch] at ten to-morrow? good morning! [goes toward the door left, remains standing a moment, then turns around.] you have been rather zealous in your work, i must say. [stroebel bows slightly.] to arrest a woman on the strength of an anonymous letter shows excessive zeal. [stroebel bows slightly.] i like to see my men energetic but [clears his throat] bear in mind what i just said. careful of a scandal! good morning! [exit.] (stroebel sits down and stares at ceiling. he swings his chair around, then whistles. reisacher comes in through middle door and seats himself at his desk. he coughs.) stroebel [half turning]. reisacher. reisacher [does likewise]. yes, herr assessor. stroebel. how long have you been in the police department? reisacher. it will be eighteen years this fall. stroebel. you have seen many a change, no doubt? reisacher. surely. stroebel. tell me, how long has our commissioner been in office? reisacher. the commissioner? oh ... it's seven. no, let me see, it's eight years.... stroebel. hem ... do you really suppose he wants us to keep our eyes wide open all the time? reisacher [eagerly]. certainly. that's what he wants. stroebel. does he? ... [short pause.] i had an idea he didn't want us to be too strict for fear of notoriety. reisacher [eagerly]. no, no. he certainly would not like that. stroebel [turns around completely]. listen, reisacher, you contradict yourself all the time. reisacher [turns around likewise]. i beg your pardon, herr stroebel. may i suggest ... stroebel. but you are always contradicting yourself. first you say yes, and then you say no. reisacher. i beg your pardon, herr assessor stroebel. i wanted to say that in the police department it is like this: everything you do is all right, if it turns out all right. stroebel [turns back to his desk]. you will never learn to formulate a thought precisely. reisacher [also turns]. all right, herr stroebel. (short pause. stroebel reads. reisacher writes. a commotion is heard through the middle door, which, is thrown open and ninon de hauteville enters. behind her a policeman, who holds her tightly by the arm. she tries to free herself.) hauteville. [she wears a large picture hat, and is highly perfumed]. keep your hands off me. i haven't killed anyone. please, let me go. stroebel [he has risen]. what's the matter? police officer. [releasing her, stands at attention]. have the honor sir, to report this disreputable woman--the hochstetter person. hauteville. please, help me, sir. i am being handled like the commonest criminal. stroebel. why do you keep that hat on? you are not paying us a visit? hauteville. indeed not! i am not paying a visit. if i lived to be a hundred, it would never occur to me to pay you a visit. stroebel. don't talk so much. do you understand? [to reisacher.] get your report book ready. hauteville. is this the complaint office? i demand to know at least why i was arrested. stroebel. oh, here you'll find that out soon enough. [to the officer.] you can go now. [officer exit through middle door.] hauteville. oh, monsieur, what shameful treatment. i was locked up in a cell with two ordinary street walkers. you will help me, won't you? stroebel [who has crossed over to reisacher]. please don't be so familiar. hauteville. i am so helpless. no one will listen to me. no one answers me. an awful looking woman brought me a cup of yellow broth and a rusty spoon--[indicating with her hand] so big. "eat!" she said, and threw it down and left. you will see to it, sir, that my friends are notified, won't you? stroebel [glancing over reisacher's shoulder]. your friends cannot help you here. [to reisacher.] don't make the margin so wide. you are wasting good paper. [to hauteville.] your friends can do nothing at all for you. hauteville. you think so, do you? one single word and i'll be set free. stroebel [contemptuously]. indeed! hauteville. before the day is over everyone of you will have to apologize to me. yes, before this day is over. stroebel. certainly. [to reisacher.] the word "assessor" has two "s" in all cases. hauteville. if you people had the least idea whom you disturbed. if you knew whom you compelled to hide in the wardrobe. stroebel [turning quickly to hauteville]. in the wardrobe? so! [to reisacher.] make a note of that, reisacher. [with emphasis.] so someone escaped us by hiding in the wardrobe. hauteville. yes, someone escaped you by hiding in the wardrobe. stroebel [suddenly very friendly.] upon my word, madame, i believe that we understand each other fully. you are a clever woman. you will not try to deny the facts. hauteville. not one solitary thing. i am most anxious that you should try to find out all. stroebel. bravo! i came near saying that i respect you for that. [benevolently.] you know, hochstetter, every man is liable to make a fool of himself now and then. hauteville. indeed they are! i know best what fools men do make of themselves. stroebel. now and then people violate the law. but they ought not to deny it afterwards. that's the sad part of it, because we always find out the truth in the end. hauteville. i wish you had it now. stroebel. we have a clue. but you are a woman of character, i admit. i take off my hat to you. hauteville. indeed! stroebel. i certainly do. hauteville. i was afraid i had lost all refinement after spending the last two nights in such company. stroebel [benevolently]. no doubt, it was a trifle hard. hauteville. it was terrible. they really do make me pay for discreetness. stroebel. your patrons are the very men who make it so hard for you. they get you into trouble and then expect you to protect them. isn't it so? hauteville. what an experience for me! to have my apartment raided at night and be simply dragged away myself. stroebel. that is too much. hauteville. i was not even allowed to take along a change of underwear. then i am locked up with women who have every known variety of vermin. stroebel. and with all that they expect you to remain silent! hauteville. when i want to comb my hair, the matron gives me a comb which these women have been using a whole week. stroebel. that simply can't go on, hauteville. and the air! i never knew that such odors existed on this earth. stroebel. still you are to shield the others! after all, you know, i think that discreetness is just talk. hauteville. talk? stroebel. i mean if anybody ever had a moral right to give things away, fully and freely, you are that person; ... after all you have suffered. hauteville. that's right. i am that person. stroebel. well then; did somebody escape into that wardrobe? hauteville. yes, somebody did escape into that wardrobe. stroebel [eagerly]. who? [short pause.] hauteville. [laughs curtly]. who? stroebel [more sharply]. who on saturday night at 10 o'clock escaped the search of the police by hiding in the wardrobe? hauteville. [laughs curtly]. it is quite unnecessary for me to tell you that. stroebel [sharply]. why? hauteville. you are certain to find it out ultimately. stroebel. ultimately? hauteville. even if i wanted to i could not tell! lord, when a person gets strictly accustomed to never mentioning any name, it is almost impossible to do it. i, believe that i would have to learn how first. stroebel [shouting]. and you will learn it; i promise you that. you ... hauteville. mais monsieure! stroebel [shouting]. no "monsieur" about it. here you'll talk good plain english. hauteville. but why are you getting so excited? stroebel [to reisacher]. i am nice to this person. i reason with her, and she says that she will first have to learn how to expose her crowd. [shouts.] decency is what you'll have to learn and i'll teach it to you. hauteville. oh, not this very minute. stroebel. i know you. i know your sort! you want to gain time so that you can concoct the blackest lies. hauteville. [calmly]. that would be entirely superfluous. the cleverest lie could not help me half as much as the simple truth. stroebel. out with it! hauteville. it's better if you find it out through someone else. stroebel. that's your opinion. hauteville. you would only be embarrassed and i would be guilty of a breach of confidence. stroebel [with contempt]. as though people confided in such as you. hauteville. i think that they rely upon the fact that our loyalty is not "just talk." stroebel [again calm]. listen to me. i do not think that you entirely understand your position. [hauteville shrugs her shoulders.] no, i don't think that you know at all what is involved. hauteville. on the contrary it is far worse that you don't seem to realize who is involved. stroebel [quickly]. in what? hauteville. in the wardrobe. stroebel. have you lost your senses? you are a prisoner here. do you want to poke fun at us? hauteville. no. stroebel. then don't consider yourself so important with those meaning insinuations. hauteville. if i did, i'd soon lose my importance after eating that yellow broth from those rusty tin plates. stroebel. and that will continue for some time. hauteville. [energetically]. no, it will not. i tell you right now that i will not spend another night in that dirty hole. i will not be mistreated any longer. stroebel [with sarcasm]. of course we are going to ask you for your kind permission. hauteville. i will not remain here. if they think i will let them ruin me, they're very much mistaken. this is an outrage and here fair play stops. stroebel. the likes of you and fair play! hauteville. [bitterly]. yes, the likes of me. every day we hear the confessions of those very people who publicly show contempt for us. we know how false are all virtuous words with which they condemn us, but we remain silent. stroebel. of course, you do all this out of pure sense of fair play? [he imitates the motion of counting money.] hauteville. money? ... my dear fellow, with money our patrons pay well for that very thing which they later on call indecent. you get as much decency from us for money as you get from other people, but believe me, we could shatter many illusions. stroebel. well, make a beginning right here. hauteville. it ought to be impossible here. the police have as few illusions as we. that is, provided they are properly instructed. stroebel. that's right now, put us in the same class with yourself. hauteville, why not? we and the police could easily ruin the credit of virtue, but neither of us do it. you--you because you regard that credit as a good substitute for the principal, and we,--lord, because we need this credit as well. stroebel. both of us? hauteville. the very moment that public virtue loses its credit, the secret vices will drop in market value. stroebel. what are you talking about anyway? hauteville. i'm telling you why both of us must hush things up. stroebel. then you are not convinced that there is a real public morality? hauteville. you mean that morality which you put on with your street clothes? i know it well. gentlemen take it off in my apartment and hang it up in my wardrobe, and there i can inspect it very thoroughly. it is truly remarkable how our respected gentlemen still make formal social visits in costumes which have so often been patched. reisacher [who up to this point apparently--without paying any attention, has been sitting with his back toward them, turns half way round]. pardon me, herr assessor. stroebel [impatiently]. now what do you want? reisacher. pardon me, herr assessor, shall i put all this talk into the minutes? stroebel. no, i will dictate to you later. [to hauteville.] you know that you are not here to amuse yourself. hauteville. i know that. stroebel. listen to me quietly. you hinted before that if we kept you here another night you would confess everything. well i tell you here and now that we will not keep you here one, but a number of nights. you can ease your conscience at once. hauteville. i would only make yours the heavier for it. stroebel. my conscience? hauteville. yes, if i tell you here, there will be no possibility of a mistake, but everything must remain a mistake. stroebel. i have patience with you, but i will not let you fool me. now get yourself together and consider every word. what must remain a mistake? hauteville. everything that has happened since saturday night. stroebel. all that must remain a mistake? hauteville. it simply must not have happened. no one broke into my apartment. no one arrested me. no one compelled anyone to hide in the wardrobe. stroebel [shouts.] and no one ever saw such an insolent female. hauteville. this browbeating. stroebel. it is meant for such as you. hauteville. [indignantly stopping her ears]. it reminds one so much of the tin plates and the comb. stroebel [angrily pacing the room]. i never heard anything like it. picture it! she makes insinuations as though we had something to be afraid of. [he stops pacing and faces her.] you evidently imagine that the whole government would run away from you. hauteville. no, but it ran away from your lieutenant. stroebel. where? hauteville. into the wardrobe. stroebel [pacing up and down]. i will bring that fellow out of your wardrobe. i will bring him to light. into bright daylight! [remains standing in front of hauteville.] what did you say? hautevile. non. stroebel [resuming his pacing']. one of those fine fellows who wallow in the mire and then expect us to make exceptions. [stops pacing, facing hauteville.] what were you saying? hauteville. nothing. stroebel. sad enough that now and again a halfway decent person strays into your place. hauteville. he can only regret that he was disturbed. stroebel [goes quickly to desk and unlocks a drawer]. besides, do not deceive yourself. we do not need your disclosures. [he takes out a rather bulky paper, a school composition book, and holds it triumphantly in the air.] there; do you recognize this? hauteville. [quietly, without a single trace of surprise]. it looks like my diary. stroebel. it is your book. it was found in your desk. hauteville. [very calm]. the desk was locked, stroebel. it was broken open. well? what about your loyalty now? hauteville. [shrugs her shoulders]. i kept it. i haven't a fire-proof safe. stroebel [contemptuously]. would you by chance like to show me the name? hauteville. what name? stroebel. of the gentleman in the wardrobe. hauteville. [laughs]. his name really is not in it. stroebel. do not evade but show me. hauteville. oh, there are parties whose names are not in the hotel register. they travel incognito. stroebel [persuadingly]. hochstetter, i have an impression that you are not such a stupid girl, and i believe that you would like to [pointing to the diary] take good care of your--patrons. if you do not immediately reveal the name of that man, i will summon the whole bunch. hauteville. [shrugs her shoulders]. that's something i cannot stop you from doing. stroebel. what then is your belief in fair play? hauteville. i never submitted that diary to you. you could not have gotten it from me voluntarily, but it quite suits me that the officer found it in my desk. stroebel. why? hauteville. because he might have searched for it in the wardrobe. stroebel. now my patience is at an end. [presses the button on his desk.] i will have no consideration for anyone. hauteville. after all, perhaps you will. for yourself. [police officer enters.] stroebel. take this woman downstairs, [the officer leaves with hauteville. stroebel sits down, pushes the chair angrily to the desk, then gets up and throws the diary and several other books on the desk, saying to himself:] never heard anything like it! such impudence! [reisacher looks at him with amusement. a knock at the door.] stroebel [formally]. come in! beermann [enters hastily from the left. he breathes heavily. he has a handkerchief in his hand, with which he frequently mops his brow]. is this the proper department at last? i am being sent all around the building. [breathing heavily.] i hope i am finally in the proper bureau. stroebel. what do you want? beermann. pardon me for a moment while i catch my breath. i climbed twice to the third floor and again down to the ground floor. the commissioner sent me to room 147 and there they told me to go to room 174. stroebel. who sent you? beermann [taking a deep breath]. the commissioner. i really wanted to speak to him personally, but he told me i should go to the gentleman who has "morality." are you the gentleman who has all the morality? stroebel. certainly. beermann. at last. [mopping his braze.] good god? when a matter is so urgent and so much depends on it they ought not to chase one all over the building. i must rest a bit. all this excitement and running up and down stairs.... so you are the gentleman who has the matter in hand. stroebel. what matter? beermann. on saturday night a lady was arrested. a madam de hauteville, and certain papers were taken from her. have you those papers here? stroebel. what business is that of yours? beermann. my name is beermann; fritz beermann, the banker. i am the chairman of the society for the suppression of vice. stroebel [very politely]. oh, indeed! pardon me! i didn't recall your name immediately, but i was expecting you. beermann [startled]. you--were expecting--me? stroebel. the commissioner said that you would undoubtedly call on us. beermann. he said that i undoubtedly would call? but he never mentioned a word to me about that, and i saw him just a moment ago. perhaps after all it will be better if i go down to see him again? stroebel. that is not necessary. i have full charge of the matter. beermann. oh, yes, quite right; you have charge of the matter. and you have those writings here too? stroebel. the diary? [he indicates the desk.] here it is. beermann [peeps anxiously over]. then it is a regular diary? stroebel. quite correctly kept. gives date and names. even little jesting remarks about the people concerned. beermann [shouts]. but that is an unheard of insolence! stroebel. yes. beermann. why does she write such things? to what purpose? can't she herself realize how dangerous it is? fancy, a woman whose whole stock in trade is secrecy, keeping an address hook of her patrons. confound her! stroebel. but to us as evidence it is priceless. beermann. i ask you--why does she record such things? stroebel. we can only be glad of it, herr beermann. beermann. we? stroebel. she'd lie. i tell you she'd deny everything, and that puts an end to the case. [holding the diary in the air.] but here we have the whole bunch. beermann. as though she wanted to turn state's evidence ... stroebel. let her just come to court with her confounded fine talk. [imitating hauteville's manners.] "it simply must not have happened." i will drive her to the wall with what happened. we will simply bring up those fellows, one after the other. beermann [dismayed]. to court! stroebel. certainly, and that means; hand on the bible and swear. then we shall see if "no one compelled anyone to hide in the wardrobe." beermann. how? stroebel. they will not commit perjury. beermann. that's utterly impossible! stroebel. i will make it quite warm for that man, in any event. beermann. but, counselor! stroebel [clinking heels]. assessor stroebel. beermann. but, assessor, that is simply impossible. you do not want to ruin the family life of the entire city, do you? stroebel. in what way? beermann. do you expect a respectable gentleman to appear in court and in the presence of all people to say, yes; it is true that i ... and so forth? stroebel. why not? beermann [shouting]. but they are all respectable fathers of families! stroebel. but, my dear herr beermann, what difference does that make to me? beermann. it must make a difference. it makes a difference to everybody at all times. stroebel. i assure you that i am not a bit sentimental. beermann [glancing over to reisacher]. could we have a few words together, alone? stroebel. if you wish it. reisacher, finish your police report in the outer office. reisacher. certainly, herr assessor. (takes several sheets of paper and goes out through the middle door.) stroebel. do have a seat, herr beermann. (beermann sits down on the sofa. stroebel does likewise.) beermann [mopping his brow]. a personal question, herr assessor, are you married? stroebel. no. beermann. i thought not. if you had a family you would not speak in that fashion of sentimentality. stroebel. if i had a family, i would not, to begin with, be involved in this. beermann. but ... stroebel. my name would not appear in the diary of hauteville. beermann. you never can tell. stroebel. excuse me. what is there left of family life when such things happen? beermann. what do you mean? if nobody finds it out? stroebel. but such a man must live constantly under a deception. beermann. my dear assessor. if the white lie ceases in married life, the couple drifts apart. stroebel. i cannot believe that! beermann [persuadingly]. take my word for it. in every happy marriage the parties lie to each other to keep their affection from cooling. stroebel. but both of them remain faithful. beermann. not in the least. stroebel. don't say that! beermann. not in the least; anyhow not to the very letter. a husband is true to his wife even if he ... and so forth. stroebel. your views surprise me. beermann. this is what i mean. he is true in his own fashion. he remains kind to his wife, takes a good care of his family, and that is the principal thing. that other which you have in mind is only an ideal. stroebel. ideals are lived up to. beermann. well, yes. but if we don't live up to them, we at least respect them. stroebel. herr beermann, i am astounded. you are the president of the society for the suppression of vice? beermann. can i help it that i was elected? stroebel. but at least you represent the views of your society. i thought you came here for that reason. beermann. for what reason? stroebel. to express your satisfaction at our discovery of the business of this person. beermann. you thought i came here on that account? stroebel. didn't you? beermann [mopping his brow with his handkerchief]. you'll have to pardon me, herr assessor; i am still affected by that running up and down stairs. stroebel. perhaps our conversation tires you? beermann. don't mention it. i simply cannot follow you so quickly, a moment ago you mentioned a diary, didn't you? stroebel. of this hauteville woman.--yes. beermann. have you been through this diary? stroebel. no. i have not had time yet. beermann. but you just spoke about some jesting comments in it. stroebel. only those i noticed in glancing through it. beermann [relieved]. ah! stroebel. besides, i must tell you, herr beermann, that the contents of this book must remain a secret to you. my orders are not to show it to anyone. beermann. no, no. i don't want to know anything about it. stroebel. you will find out everything later when the matter comes up in court. beermann [dismayed]. will it be read there? stroebel. certainly. to-day i can only tell you that we will proceed vigorously. you can satisfy your society on that point. beermann [rising]. but that doesn't satisfy me at all. think of the consequences. stroebel [rising also]. what do you care about the consequences. your society has its very high aims. your propaganda states that you will prosecute the outcast of society with iron energy and now you see your ideals realized. beermann. our propaganda states that we will intervene from national, moral and social viewpoints, to protect the marriage vows. if this scandal becomes public the marriage relationship will be undermined. stroebel. what sort of moral viewpoint do you call that? beermann. it is the society's. don't you understand that the influential class of society will be involved! stroebel. then that class will have only itself to blame. beermann. that's out of the question. we must find a loop-hole. stroebel. within the scope of the law there are no loop-holes. beermann. don't tell me that. well then, go around the law. stroebel [surprised]. herr beermann! beermann. of course! i have lived long enough to know that. stroebel. i shall do my duty. beermann. am i interfering with your duty? i belong to that class of people who respect the police only because the police respect our social position. stroebel. i appreciate that. beermann. i also take part in political life. i am a candidate for the reichstag and as such i have a decided opinion about these matters. stroebel. without doubt, herr beermann. beermann. well then, there are, in extreme cases, ways around the law, and there must be. stroebel. i am of a different opinion. beermann. god knows, it is not the business of the police to provoke this enormous scandal. all authority will be destroyed. it will shatter the respect of the masses for the people higher up. stroebel. but this scandal was provoked--[knocking on the diary with his finger]--by these very people. beermann. if a man once in a while goes into a certain room--that is no scandal. it only becomes a scandal when the story is made known to every tom, dick and harry. that's what must be prevented! stroebel. i value the humane motive which evidently is prompting you, herr beermann. but you must admit that we are acting entirely in accord with the views of the classes you mention. beermann. you are not! stroebel. yes, we are. two weeks ago the good people here founded a society because they felt it was necessary to proceed more severely against public immorality ... beermann.... against immorality in the lower strata where it easily degenerates into licentiousness. as the president of this society, i, at least ought to know what was intended. stroebel. even frau hochstetter belongs to the lower strata. if we are now stepping on anybody's corns, i am very sorry.... beermann. the police have no business to do anything they will be sorry for later on. good lord, had the commissioner only listened to me. an affair like this should not be treated in such a purely business-like way. stroebel. the commissioner can only tell you the same thing. he cannot change the law. beermann. anything can be done. stroebel. not at this stage. we could probably have prevented it had we known that this case would have such far-reaching consequences, but now here are the proofs. [pointing to the diary.] no one in the world can destroy them, not even the commissioner. beermann. then what do you propose to do with them? stroebel. they are going down to the district attorney's office. the avalanche is on its way. beermann. and we have simply to wait and watch what it hits? (telephone bell rings.) stroebel. pardon me a moment. (goes to the right to the telephone. while stroebel is answering the telephone, and has his back to beermann the latter crosses to the desk and tries to look into the diary. timidly he opens it several times but shuts it again quickly, when he fears that stroebel will turn around.) stroebel [answering the telephone]. police department.... assessor stroebel speaking. who is this please ... yes, this is assessor stroebel.... yes, commissioner ... [pause] i understand you, i will remain in the office ... yes, i examined the hochstetter woman.... yes, this madame hauteville [pause] i will remain in the office until you call.... yes, commissioner. good-bye. [he hangs up the receiver.] beermann [energetically closes the book and tries to appear indifferent.] stroebel. now you can convince yourself, herr beermann, the commissioner himself is following up this matter. he wants to have another conference with me about it to-day. beermann. am i to wait helplessly until the catastrophe happens? stroebel. you must be consistent.... beermann. it is possible that my best friends, acquaintances or relatives are involved ... stroebel. you must remain consistent. doesn't this splendidly justify the founding of your society? beermann [in a rage]. oh, leave me alone with your stupid vice society. are we not all human, after all! stroebel. i do not understand you. beermann. do you realize what severe pangs of conscience i suffer? last night as i pictured to myself all that is about to happen, all these family misfortunes, i asked myself this question: what really is morality? and ... i could not find the answer. stroebel. although you are ... beermann. although i am chairman of the society for the suppression of vice, yes, sir. then i asked myself this: which is the more important: that we are moral, or that we seem moral? stroebel. have you found the answer? beermann. i have. i have become fully convinced that it is far more important for the people to believe in our morality. stroebel. but you didn't need a society for that. beermann. yes, we did. just to be moral is something that i can accomplish in my room by myself, but that has no educational value. the important thing is to ally one's self publicly with moral issues. this has a beneficial effect on the family and state. stroebel. i daresay that this side of the question has not occurred to me. beermann. just consider. morality holds exactly the same position as religion. we must always create the impression that there is such a thing and we must make each other believe that each of us have it. do you suppose for one moment that religion would last if the church dealt publicly with our sins? but she forgives them quietly. the state ought to be just as shrewd. stroebel. many a thing you say seems quite true. beermann. it is true, you can depend upon it. stroebel. theoretically perhaps. but that does not change it one bit. as long as the law prescribes it, these offenses [pointing to the diary] must be dealt with publicly. beermann. although you know that thus public decency will be undermined. [stroebel shrugs his shoulders.] although the state will suffer by it? stroebel [again shrugs his shoulders]. well ... beermann. the administration knows very well the sort of conservative element there is in the society for the suppression of vice. stroebel. yes, and values it highly. beermann. let us suppose--i do not know if it be so--but let us just suppose that only one member of the society once had a weak little moment and his name were in this book ... stroebel [energetically]. then he would be summoned to court without regard or mercy. beermann. and the whole society would be made ridiculous and would go up in the air. stroebel [shrugs his shoulders]. well ... beermann [shouts]. that is the height of folly, i tell you! stroebel [instructively]. it is the fulfilment of our duty. you are a layman. with you sentiments play an important part. we, the police, on the other hand are compelled to sacrifice our feelings to our duty. beermann [holding his hands to his ears]. oh, stop that! stroebel. official duty blocks our way. beermann [angrily]. but even a jackass can jump over blocks. stroebel [offended]. her? beermann, i did not hear that remark. beermann. let me tell you something! do you know what we have been doing for the past three weeks? ... talking ourselves hoarse in order to bring about an election friendly to the present administration. for the past three weeks it has been nothing but fatherland, and the state and religion! and this is your gratitude! in the devil's own name--just picture it to yourself--a man who has been fighting the opposition in thirty different political meetings might be involved in this. stroebel [shrugs his shoulders]. what can i do? beermann. is the administration going to deliver him over to his opponents? stroebel. we would be very sorry for him, but we would have to summon him to court. beermann. without regard or mercy--? [telephone bell rings loudly.] stroebel. pardon me for a moment. [stroebel goes to the telephone and this time he turns completely around so that his back is toward beermann.] police department ... yes ... commissioner; this is stroebel at the telephone.... [short pause.] when she was arrested? ... when she was arrested there was lieutenant schmuttermaier and an officer.... [short pause.] just one policeman ... [pause.] ... yes, commissioner [short pause] i should tell that lieutenant [short interruption] jackass schmuttermaier to come over to the office immediately.... [short pause.] i shall wait for you until you come.... yes, commissioner. (during this telephone conversation beermann steps near to the desk. with a shaking hand he takes up the diary but quickly puts it down again. then he picks it up again and with a rapid and energetic movement puts it into his breast pocket. stroebel with a rebuked demeanor goes from the telephone to the desk. beermann turns around so that stroebel cannot see his face. he is disturbed and coughs in order to hide his embarrassment. stroebel presses a button on reisacher's desk.) beermann [while coughing]. i realize now that nothing more can be done. i shan't take up your time. stroebel [anxiously]. no, no, please remain. the commissioner himself will be here in a moment. then you may talk to him. beermann. but you just told me that there was no use waiting.... [reisacher enters through center door.] stroebel [urgently to reisacher]. reisacher, go and look for lieutenant schmuttermaier immediately. if he is not in the building, send to his home or telephone for him. leave word that he must come over immediately. reisacher. yes, herr assessor. [goes out quickly through center door.] beermann. you said yourself that there would be no use. i guess i'd better go. stroebel [perturbed]. but do wait for the commissioner. beermann. there is no use in my waiting. i ... i did all i could ... there seems to be no use ... well then.... good-bye! [about to go through door on left but the door is quickly opened and the commissioner appears with baron schmettau. the former holds the door open for the baron. after they have come in, he shuts the door.] commissioner [to the baron]. if you please, herr baron.... [to beermann]. ah ... here is our president of the society for the suppression of vice. [beermann bows slightly--commissioner continuing contemptuously.] well, have you accomplished your mission? [beermann nods.] are you satisfied with this arrest or would you like to have us do more? [angrily.] once for all, sir, i forbid you to meddle with the affairs of this office. you can preach your principles wherever else you like, but here i will stand for no interference. [beermann timidly creeps along the wall, and bows himself out.] [commissioner to baron schmettau.] whenever the police bungle anything, look for reformers. schmettau. [with a glance at stroebel]. will you introduce me? commissioner. assessor stroebel,--freiherr von schmettau, adjutant to his highness, prince emil. [stroebel clicks his heels together and bows deeply. schmettau thanks him curtly.] commissioner [sharply]. herr assessor, i have asked herr baron schmettau to come with me in order that in his presence i might correct a pitiable lack of tact, which to my regret, and contrary to all my intentions, was perpetrated by lieutenant schmuttermaier. schmettau. it was abominable. commissioner. what orders did that man have? stroebel [nervously]. do you mean in the case of hochstetter, commissioner? commissioner. yes, sir, madame de hauteville, who made the raid on her apartment? stroebel. the raid? commissioner. i hope before you arrested her you informed yourself exactly with whom you were dealing. stroebel. certainly ... commissioner.... and the result? stroebel. i ascertained that this woman was violating public decency. commissioner. i am going to ask you, assessor, as my inferior in office, to confine yourself to more direct answers, please. what did the investigation disclose? stroebel. that she received questionable visits from gentlemen. commissioner. questionable? then does schmuttermaier know who these gentlemen were? stroebel. he does not ... commissioner. no? didn't he investigate a matter which seemed so questionable to him? stroebel. he just wanted to ascertain that these visits were meant for hauteville. commissioner. so--? i have some truly competent officials. and who and what it was did not bother the man at all? stroebel. i myself thought that that would be found out later. commissioner. there are certain things in the world you would not be likely to look for and less likely to find. you have been treating this thing as though you were dealing with a common ordinary pickpocket. [to baron sckmettau.] you see it is just as i told you ... the man did not have the slightest idea.... [to stroebel.] did this fellow, schmuttermaier, see anyone in the flat or did he hear if anyone was there? stroebel. no, commissioner. commissioner [to baron schmettau]. it is just as i told you.... stroebel. furthermore, i have heard since that there was somebody in the apartment. commissioner [quickly]. who? stroebel. that, i have been unable to find out yet, but hauteville made several insinuations as though someone had been hidden in a wardrobe. commissioner.[to baron schmettau]. to be sure--someone--was--to my profoundest regret, his highness, our beloved hereditary prince emil. stroebel [crushed]. i ... didn't have the slightest idea ... commissioner. you people ought to have an idea once in a while. if this schmuttermaier had any ability, it would not have happened. but it is the old story, not a trace of independent ability and tact. stroebel. i don't know what apology i can offer. commissioner. neither do i. besides herr baron schmettau himself was obliged to go through this very unpleasant incident. schmettau. [schmettau speaks very precisely but puts a slight emphasis on his s.] i was completely dumfounded. i cannot understand how it could happen. just picture it ... lord knows ... i was and am of the opinion that our young highness must learn to know life. faith, it is not my business to act as his pastor.... commissioner. if you please, herr baron, that goes without saying.... schmettau. that of course is merely my opinion. i am a man of the world and of affairs. i consider it fitting that his highness should learn to know life.... commissioner. but i entirely share your opinion. schmettau. a moment ago the word "decency" was used. in my position i can listen to such words from the pulpit, but outside of the church i deem them entirely out of place. commissioner [to assessor]. you used that expression. schmettau. if anyone wants to claim that my bearing is not a proper one, he will have to prove it with a revolver in his hand. stroebel. i did not think that the word would offend you. schmettau. it did offend me. such expressions are fitting in an asylum for feeble-minded people. they should never be used to characterize the recreation of cavaliers. commissioner. may i put in a good word for my assessor? it certainly was not his intention to offend you. schmettau. it was not his intention. [to the assessor.] then i will assume that it was never said. [the assessor clicks his heels.] i am somewhat nettled but you cannot be surprised at that. you can imagine with what care i undertook this task. this madame de hauteville was recommended to me by reliable parties. she has good manners and does not talk. commissioner. in her way, she certainly seems a very decent person. schmettau. absolutely. since it was my belief that his highness must learn to know life, i could not find a better place. [to the commissioner.] we understand each other? commissioner. certainly. schmettau. every guarantee against vulgarity; everything tip-top. now picture it to yourself. i do all a man possibly can and this inconceivably awful scandal happens. commissioner. it is the old story. these people have no tact. schmettau. that doesn't help me any. i am not trying to mix in your business. that never occurred to me. but this does not help me one bit. the whole blame attaches to me. i simply will be told that such things should not have happened. that is an unheard of business. commissioner [to assessor]. for which you are to blame. schmettau. had i a suspicion that this was contemplated, i would have informed you. commissioner. if you only had! schmettau. who would think of such things? we all take it for granted that the police first of all respect protection! stroebel. on my word of honor herr baron. not even in my dreams did i think of an occurrence like this. schmettau. [squares his shoulders]. is it so difficult for you to think? commissioner. that's just what i say. if a man knows his work thoroughly these things come to him. but people who are interested in the uplift movements are always in the clouds. schmettau. this lieutenant or whatever that fellow was, behaved as though he was collecting material for a socialist newspaper. his highness was hardly in the house five minutes when there was a loud ringing. then, someone in heavy shoes ran up against the door like a drunken sailor. madame de hauteville breaks into the room and cries, "your highness, how unfortunate i am. the police are here," she says. "leave them alone," i say, "they will go away presently." "impossible," she says, "i can never permit his highness to be found by the police in my place. i will take the blame upon myself entirely." fancy the tact of that woman! "impossible," she says, "that his highness should be caught in my place." commissioner. really, very decent! schmettau. indeed it is. immediately it dawns on me that she is right. the situation is getting terrible. that policeman is likely to demand his highness' identification. what shall we do? madame says, "for heaven's sake hide in the wardrobe!" outside, that fool is making quite a rumpus. he knocks, rings, shouts and barks. the neighborhood is getting aroused and heads are popping out from right and left and in the midst of this terrible commotion, there we stand--highness and i. what shall we do? a few moments later, his highness is cramped beside me in the wardrobe, in between different pieces of woman's apparel. with great difficulty we are able to draw our breath. stroebel. if i had only had an inkling about it. commissioner [angrily]. the police are expected to grasp conditions. schmettau. then what followed? in heavy-nailed shoes the men go from room to room. doors are opened and slammed. the fellows use loud and coarse language, and three or four times they stand in front of the wardrobe. upon my word, i actually feel how his highness is perspiring. just picture to yourself the situation if that brute had opened the closet! just picture that and you can realize how much courage i had! commissioner. you must have suffered terribly. schmettau. what i suffered does not matter. in such moments one does not think of anything else but highness. what an outrage! finally the steps disappear. madame hauteville, who throughout behaved most decently and whose conduct was above reproach, is led away and highness and i can leave the wardrobe where we spent an entire twenty minutes. and now i ask again, "how can such mistakes happen?" commissioner [to assessor]. you shall find the answer to this. schmettau. upstairs the woman is still in her cell. the newspapers are full of the scandal, and highness suffers agonies when he realizes the possibilities which can develop at any moment. commissioner. herr baron, you need not worry any longer. now i am taking the matter entirely into my hands. [consulting his watch, he speaks with affected calmness.] it is now a quarter to one. this evening at eight o'clock madame de hauteville will be set free and everything will be so arranged that her discharge will arouse no suspicion. stroebel. but how are you going to do it ...? commissioner. the details of this arrangement are your affair. curtain act iii (beermann's library. elegantly furnished. a desk is backed up against a large bay-window on the right. opposite is a large book-case, and next to this a sofa. a long double door with small french panes somewhat to the left. on the left of stage a small table and a few comfortable leather chairs. on the right a simple door. beermann enters through the middle door. he goes to the desk, unlocks a drawer and takes out the diary of hauteville. he looks carefully about him, then picks out a volume of an encyclopedia from the book-case, opens it quickly and places the diary inside. he seats himself and begins to read. at this moment the center door is opened slowly, and frau beermann stands on the threshold.) frau beermann. are you alone, fritz? beermann [frightened, slams the book so that the diary is concealed in it]. goodness, you did frighten me! frau beermann. i did not know how nervous you were until yesterday. beermann. oh, what, nervous? i am over-worked and irritable. every single day, i have to prepare a new speech. frau beermann. is it in that work that i disturbed you? pardon me. beermann. do you want anything? frau beermann. i just wanted to have a few serious words with you. beermann. but not necessarily at this moment. to-morrow or ... effie. [opening the glass door, calls in]. oh, papa, did you forget? beermann [uneasily]. forget what? effie. [entering]. weren't we to see the indian dancer to-day? beermann. well, it can't be done to-day. effie. that's a shame; i wanted so much to see her and to-night is her last appearance. beermann. then we will wait until the next one comes along. effie. i don't see why just we have to have this bad luck. beermann [with emphasis]. because i have more important things to do than to watch your hop, skip and jump. effie. [jolly]. oh, aren't you cranky? beermann. i am not at all disposed for such nonsense. effie. [going over to the desk, picks up the volume of the encyclopedia.] all this comes from your politics; now i will simply confiscate your ammunition. beermann [excited]. give me that book. effie. [jumping away]. no, no, papa, you will only get sick. beermann [shouts]. i forbid these stupid jokes. put that book down. frau beermann. what is the matter? beermann. i never could tolerate disobedient children, that's all. effie. [placing the book on the desk]. oh, pardon me, papa. beermann [grasps the volume tightly and places it in the book-case]. all fooling has its limits; don't forget that. effie. now i suppose as a punishment, we can't see the dancer. beermann. really i would rather go with you than--sit here, but it is absolutely impossible. frau beermann. go now, darling; i must talk to papa alone. beermann. but i haven't the time. frau beermann [positively]. that much of it you have. effie. good-bye, papa dear. [goes out.] frau beermann [seats herself on the sofa next to the book-case. beermann stands leaning with his back against the desk. through the large window the evening sun can be seen so that beermann's face is in its light, while frau beermann sits in the half-dusk.] beermann. lena dear, do we really have ...? frau beermann. we do. beermann. can't it be postponed? frau beermann. i have postponed it many a year, but now it is high time. beermann. [disturbed]. many a year? what are you referring to? frau beermann. i have a request to make to you. beermann. with pleasure.... frau beermann. don't make a laughing-stock of your family. beermann. in what way? frau beermann. don't make a laughing stock of your family, i beg you. beermann. please don't talk in riddles. frau beermann. these are not very great riddles to you. beermann. speak plainly, won't you? frau beermann. no. i am not going to speak more plainly. beermann. as your husband, i demand it. frau beermann. n-no. beermann. that is very sad. there should be no secrets at all between husband and wife. frau beermann. is this a principle again? fancy all these great secrets! [beermann shrugs his shoulders.] no. now take it for granted that i know a thing or two about you. beermann [with anxiety]. you? frau beermann. several things. some which you must know only too well. after all, that principle of yours has not been violated. there remain no secrets whatever between us. beermann. i assure you i shall not rack my brains about it. frau beermann. nor would i want you to regard me as sitting in judgment on your acts. beermann [with a false pathos]. instead of telling me freely and frankly of the gossip you have heard about me; then i could defend myself. frau beermann. that is just what i want to avoid. to me it appears somewhat childish when a man tries to justify ... beermann [just as before]. in this manner, the lowest gossip can destroy the happiness of any family. frau beermann [seriously]. fritz, really, there is no one listening to us just now. beermann. you are not taking me in earnest. frau beermann. no, and it is our good fortune that i am not. at least, my good fortune. beermann. you call that good fortune? i might have expected something different from you. frau beermann. no, sir, you did not. if you will be honest with me, you will admit that. this many a year, we have been playing a common farce. you acted the true christian head of the family and i the all-believing audience. beermann. how nice! frau beermann. not nice but it's true. perhaps the fault is not entirely ours, for we learned it from our parents. you men are supposed to impress us with your greatness and we women are to stand by and admire. beermann. do you find that impossible? frau beermann. even the best christian family principles must have some foundation. what was i supposed to admire? beermann. you ask that now? frau beermann. perhaps i gave it up sooner than others. but that is due to our relationship. we were always together. where is a man to get pose and character enough to last him for twenty-four hours every day? beermann. so that is about your conception of our married life? frau beermann. that is it exactly. beermann. and after all the years ... frau beermann. i acquired it rather early. beermann. now, after twenty-six years you declare that you are unhappy. frau beermann. no, fritz, it has not led us to unhappiness. there has been no sudden shattering of an ideal. our marriage was not an ideal and ... don't feel offended ... your personality was never so immaculate, that one stain more or less would spoil the effect. beermann [excited]. but there must be some sort of reason back of all these reproaches? frau beermann. if you think them reproaches, then we do not understand each other. beermann. what else are they? frau beermann. i meant it merely as a request. do not bring your family into ridicule. beermann. you are playing hide and seek all the time. in what way am i likely to do that? frau beermann. with your moral priesthood to which you have absolutely no right. beermann. no right? frau beermann. not the slightest one. but you are creating enemies who will make a laughing-stock of us all, if they find out certain things. those things can be found out whether we like it or not. beermann [forced laughter]. lena dear, i believe you are jealous. frau beermann [quietly]. jealous, of what? [short pause.] i hope that you credit me with at least good taste enough not to be jealous of my so-called right, and ... otherwise what can i lose? no, fritz, i am not jealous. [short pause, it is getting darker.] i had to get accustomed to it; that's true. this secrecy, the petty lies and the false gravity irritated me a little bit too much at first, but i made an effort so that i could still retain a feeling of comradeship. i overcame it daily, because--well because i never really took you seriously. [pause.] beermann [with, a false pathos]. lena, dear, do you realize what things you are saying? frau beermann. yes, fully. beermann [as above]. that is dreadful. every word is a ... catastrophe! i have until today, i have until this hour, believed in our established quiet happiness. now shall all this pass away? frau beermann. nothing but your confidence in my blindness shall pass away. beermann. think it over. there can be no real family life after people lose faith in each other. frau beermann. oh, a person gets used even to that. beermann. no. lena, listen. someone has been telling you tales and i cannot defend myself, because i don't know what i am accused of. you must tell me everything right now. i demand it of you. frau beermann. if i wanted to do that, i would have to begin "many, many years ago ..." beermann. well, why didn't you do it then? frau beermann. you can well understand, i had my reasons. beermann. for such silence there can be no reasons. frau beermann. i could shut my eyes and remain silent. that was my privilege. but if i had spoken out and permitted you to appease me ... no, that was something beyond me. to do that i would have been obliged to lie and for that i, for one, have not the ability. [beermann makes a motion.] no, do not interrupt me. these things will have no consequences as long as i do not wish them to, but if i should name them, then they would have. beermann. then shall i let this suspicion rest upon me? frau beermann. yes. beermann. how coldly you speak. if what you suspect were true, you could not be so indifferent about it. frau beermann. do the by-laws of your society prescribe that in cases like these the wife shall be unhappy? beermann. imagine! the many years that you and i have lived together and you had these suspicions right along and never said a word about them. why do you speak today? frau beermann. because you have reached the point where our friendship for one another may break. everything i see and hear from you now hurts me. you speak in a tone of strictness, which must be unpleasant even to you. for weeks past there has been nothing around me but lies. what you say to me, all that you say to the children, and what you preached here publicly last night. every word hurts my ears and urges me to contradict you; i am silent and by doing that i endorse your lies. beermann. but, lena ... frau beermann. finally when your every glance is artificial, each motion of yours is a pose. then it is unbearable. add to that my anxiety for our children. how shall they still retain faith in us, if through an accident their eyes are opened? i had remained silent all this time for their sake and now you are inviting the whole world to speak. i cannot continue to live this life of worry and hypocrisy. all that i have already overcome awakens again and appears to me more ugly than ever before. i do not know if i can still believe in your good fellowship and remain your friend. [she rises and goes slowly to the door.] beermann. i do not seem to know you any more. during our entire married life, you have not spoken as seriously as in the last fifteen minutes. frau beermann. that perhaps was my great mistake. but i have paid for it. [she opens the door.] beermann. lena dear, have you nothing further to tell me? frau beermann. i just beg of you; do not bring your family into ridicule. [exit.] beermann [for a while remains standing; lost in thought; then he turns on the electric light, sighing, goes over to the bookcase, takes out the volume of the encyclopedia wherein the diary of madams de hauteville is hidden, opens it and reads standing. a knock on the door. frightened, he quickly hides the diary in his side pocket.] beermann. come in. [justizrat hauser enters on the left.] hauser. lord; good evening. beermann [hurrying toward him]. lord; how glad i am that you have come. hauser. has anything happened? beermann. n ... no. hauser. i received your message that you must see me tonight without fail. beermann. yes, i was at your house twice. hauser. unfortunately, i was not there. [he has taken off his overcoat and is laying it on a chair.] tell me, you seem to me all upset. beermann. i am upset. hauser. i suppose that is why you sent for me. well, then, what is it? beermann. have a seat, please. [they sit down to the left on the sofa.] i must begin a little way back.... have a cigar? [he goes over to the humidor, takes out a box of cigars and offers it to hauser, who takes one.] i must begin a little way back ... can you remember the subject we discussed last night? hauser. the genuinely righteous moral life? [he lights his cigar.] of course, i remember it. such sermons are not easily forgotten. beermann. do you know i got the impression that you have a rather liberal viewpoint. hauser. liberal? beermann. i mean that you are not a prude. hauser. i am an old lawyer, you know, and just out of sheer habit contradict people. i made myself blacker than i actually am. so, if you have scruples on my account ... beermann. i merely mentioned it because you understand life and i must speak to someone who judges more liberally than our narrow minded bourgeois. hauser. more liberally than you judged last night? beermann. i was overzealous, but don't let us talk about it. i want to ask you for advice. [short pause.] you lawyers are bound to respect professional secrets? hauser. we must respect them. beermann. what i am about to tell you, you will probably find most astounding, but it is to be considered absolutely confidential. even though your client confesses a crime, you are not permitted to divulge the information? hauser. what a careful criminal you are! beermann. it is possible that you will find this information most unpleasant. hauser [bends and talks in a low voice]. now don't worry about me, beermann. i will know how to protect your interests. the law gives me the right to remain silent in any event. beermann. well then ... [nervously runs his fingers through his hair] i really have to begin a little way back. the last few days i have been thinking a great deal about monogamy. i am surely the last person to doubt the high moral value of the marriage vow, but there is something to be said on the other side. it is indeed a very ticklish theme to discuss. hauser. suppose then that we skip the prologue and the few opening chapters and start at once with the affair of madame hauteville. beermann. how do you know ...? hauser. i suspected. you probably are not the first one who has come to confess to me. since last night many consciences have been jolted. so you, too, belong to that crowd? beermann. you ask yourself how such things are possible? hauser. no, sir, i never ask myself such stupid questions. beermann. you have always believed that an undisturbed happiness prevailed in my family. hauser [quickly]. beermann, i resent that! do not try to make yourself interesting. beermann. don't take it the wrong way. i am not blaming anybody. i just want to ... hauser. you even want to find moral justification for your immorality. beermann. i know well enough that it is unjustifiable. i have been saying that to myself a hundred thousand times. do not think that i overcame my principles so easily. hauser. all you had to overcome was your timidity. beermann [sighing deeply]. if you only knew. hauser. of course you did not land on the primrose path with both feet, but you climbed carefully over the fence--just as befits a man of your embonpoint. beermann. i expected something better from you than mere mocking. hauser. what do you want me to do? shall i weep because you have sinned? why? what good would it do you? that is the way of your kind. as long as no one has proofs against you, your virtue must always be under the spotlight, but the very minute you trip up, some peculiar background of justification ought to be invented for the smallest sin. no, my dear friend. the world's moral system will not go to pieces just because you slipped and broke your nose. beermann. you cannot realize what suffering you are inflicting upon me right now. hauser. now please don't make long speeches. you did not call me here to grant you absolution. you want me to help you to quash this affair. beermann [jumps up quickly from his chair]. yes, you must do that. good lord, i beg you. i am in a terrible position. you have not the slightest idea how nervous i am. hauser. will you please sit down and stop exaggerating? beermann [sits down]. no man living can have sufficient imagination to enlarge on this. imagine it! any moment the police are likely to come here and arrest me. hauser [seriously]. have you been carrying on so badly at hauteville's? beermann. no. not there. that is not worth while mentioning. hauser. why then do you fear the police? that's all nonsense. now just consider everything quietly and calmly. by the way, has your wife any suspicions ...? beermann. of this affair? i don't think so. she has just a general one ... but what's the use of bothering with trifles! you know that this stupid woman kept a diary, and that they found it in her apartment. hauser. assuredly i know it. without that diary we would not have so many penitents in the city. beermann. imagine my position. i know positively that my name is in that book. it means that i am simply done for by the cursed thing. hauser. is it so certain that your name is in the book? beermann [loudly]. yes, sir. hauser. it may be possible that ... beermann. it is not at all possible. my name is there. shall i quietly sit and wait until i am ruined? you know that i would be ruined if it became public. fancy, i, the candidate for the reichstag; i, the president of the society for the suppression of vice! all the papers would be full of it. hauser. oh, yes, it would be quite interesting. beermann. then think of the consequences here in the city! in the family! why, i would be killed outright! lord, how i tried to hammer it into the head of that stupid man in the police department so he could understand what terrible mischief this will make. hauser [frightened]. you went to police headquarters? beermann. of course, i was there. hauser. did you confess? beermann. how can you suppose that? [sits down again.] i spoke for the others. i explained to the official that he is showing up the influential element; that he is injuring the established order of society,--but [he touches his forehead with his palm] that fellow has nothing but police ordinances in his head. hauser. shouting will not help us a bit. remain cool and collected. one thing is important, at this moment. has the diary reached the district attorney's office? beermann. no, it has not. hauser. well, as long as it remains in the police department there are still possibilities. beermann. it is not in the police department either. hauser. of course it is there. where else should it be? beermann [indicating his side pocket]. here. hauser [amazed]. what? beermann [takes the diary out of his side pocket and places it on the table]. here it is. hauser. so, this is the celebrated diary of madame hauteville. [beermann nods.] who gave it to you? beermann. nobody. i just took it. hauser. you mean; you sto ... beermann.... stole it, yes, sir. hauser [pulls back his chair and breaks into a loud laugh]. you did that! [he laughs.] ... say, that's pretty good. now i am beginning to respect you. confound it, i would never have given you credit for a stunt like this. [he laughs and slaps his knee.] beermann. laugh, while i am dying of fright. hauser. don't spoil my good impression of you! i am on the point of admiring you. [he laughs again.] let me apologize. i always held you as a wishy-washy bourgeois and now you go and pull this thing off. beermann. you had better give me some advice. i have not had a quiet moment since i took the book. i want to destroy it but how can i? if i tear it up the pieces will be found. hauser. burn it. beermann. where? there is no fire in the house, except in the kitchen range. if i hide it, i shall always have to run to and fro to see if it is there, and i feel less safe if i have it on my person. then i have always a feeling as though that thing were bulging out my pocket; and the police must be missing it by this time. hauser. oh, tear out the page on which your name appears and send it back anonymously. beermann. impossible. my name appears on almost every second page. hauser. oh ... so. beermann. what shall i do when the police ask me for the book? hauser. there is only one way; you know nothing about it. beermann. but they will be dead certain that i have it. hauser. remain firm. for heaven's sake don't fall into the trap that by confessing you will improve this fine job. [a loud and prolonged ringing of the electric bell is heard.] beermann [frightened, exclaims]. there, do you hear that? hauser. some visitor, i suppose. beermann. this is no time to make visits. [anxiously picking up the diary.] what shall i do with the damned thing? [takes out a volume of the encyclopedia and wants to hide the diary in it but hesitates, and then puts the volume back on the shelf.] lord, where shall i put it? hauser. come, give it to me. beermann [gives him the book and hauser puts it in his side pocket.] hauser. no one will search me for it. beermann. stay here with me ... please. hauser. if it gives you any pleasure, yes; but man alive, pull yourself together. suppose it really were the police; you are trembling all over. [a knock on the door.] beermann [crouching]. quiet now. [another knock.] come in. [betty comes in from the left and hands beermann a visiting card.] betty. the gentleman says it is very urgent. beermann [with a trembling hand beermann takes up the visiting card and reads]. professor wasner. [he sighs audibly and then says with forced vigor.] show the gentleman up. [betty exit.] beermann. and this has been my state of mind for the past six hours. hauser [offering him his hand]. now be brave, my dear friend, and even if they should come to you, just deny it outright. you'll know how to lie. a man of such rare abilities.... good night. [goes out on the left. in the doorway, he almost collides with professor wasner. they greet each other.] wasner [wears a cape the left corner thrown picturesquely over his right shoulder, holds a large slouch hat in his hand. his hair is disheveled. his flaxen beard falls on his chest]. i am here in regard to the most remarkable matter a man ever came to consult another about. beermann [very nervous]. must it be today, herr professor? wasner. the situation permits of no delay. beermann. but it is getting so late. wasner. i admit that this is hardly the proper time to make visits. nevertheless, i entreat you to hear me. [beermann seats himself at the desk, takes out a large handkerchief and presses it against his forehead. wasner remains standing and continues.] for many years, as you well know, i undertook the task of collecting all publications which have been undermining public morals. i daresay today, that my collection is most complete and that i have unquestionably proven the harm of pornographic literature. what corrupting influence this temptation has through suggestion and imagination can today no longer be doubted, because--[an impressive pause; wasner lowers his voice]--i myself fell a victim to it. [beermann remains in his apathetic attitude. pause.] i can well understand that you lack words. i, too, became, on account of it, much disgusted with my character. i asked myself if i still have the right to participate in the moral salvation of our people and i have decided affirmatively only after a thorough examination. [pause.] beermann [absentmindedly]. yes ... yes ... herr professor. wasner. you are entitled to know everything. only spare me the details. briefly stated, one day i could not view my collection as objectively as usual and thru a friend i was induced to make a most damnable visit. i assure you that i simply loathe that fellow. beermann. but just why are you telling me all this? wasner. because together we have fought against immorality shoulder to shoulder. i ask you if you still deem me worthy to strive for our common ideal. beermann. for my part, go as far as you like, i won't stop you. wasner. then you will not deny me your assistance? beermann. suppose we discuss all this tomorrow, herr professor? wasner. tomorrow will be too late. [beermann falls back into his chair in an attitude of apathy.] after my false step i became convinced that it is my duty to protect others from this temptation. my feeling of duty became stronger until finally i wrote a letter to be exact--an anonymous letter--to the police, wherein i demanded emphatically that they put an end to the misconduct of this person. beermann [now attentive.] really that was not nice. wasner. i wanted to assure myself that within i still had the right to belong to the society for the suppression of vice. beermann. i consider that rather mean. you should always be grateful. wasner. this very feeling would have made me feel still more guilty. [beermann shrugs his shoulders nervously.] but now i come to the reason for my being here. my information had results ... this creature was arrested and today after dinner my false friend comes to tell me that he had not been careful, had mentioned to her my name, and i am certainly indexed in the book she kept. this book was found in her place by the police. beermann [jumping up]. what's her name? wasner. hauteville. beermann. so, it is you to whom we are indebted for this scandal. [angrily.] do you fully realize what you have accomplished? how many respectable fathers of families you have brought to the very verge of despair? wasner. i know it. beermann. you don't. wasner. i came here for that very reason. beermann [not understanding him]. what? wasner. i came here to request you on behalf of the others to call tonight, a meeting of the executive committee. the society must do everything in its power to keep this case out of court. beermann. why the devil did you write that anonymous letter? wasner. listen to me, i beg of you. someone is involved in this who is very dear to you. as soon as i received the information, i hastened to police headquarters immediately and wanted to intervene there as the representative of the society for the suppression of vice. but when i mentioned that name i was very formally thrown out. on the steps, whom do you think i met but our mutual friend, kommerzienrat bolland! he too had been in the commissioner's office and had the same bad luck. i told him my troubles and he admitted to me that he also had been lured into the den of this siren. beermann. kommerzienrat! wasner. unfortunately. but that is something i can't at all account for. he hardly could have been led into temptation through a collection of documentary exhibits. beermann. and what do you want of me now? wasner. our friend sends me to you. he would have come himself but the shock threw him into a sickbed. he entreats you urgently to call a meeting of the executive committee, immediately. we have very influential people in our midst who must bring pressure to bear on the department of the interior in order to hush up this affair. beermann. if only you had not written that anonymous letter. wasner. i felt a moral duty to do it. beermann. and now it is our moral duty to patch up this matter. [betty enters on the left.] betty [hands beermann a calling card]. the gentleman says it is very urgent. beermann [reads]. "assessor stroebel." [frightened; to betty.] tell him i am out of town. [betty about to leave.] no, tell him i am sick--or, betty, show the gentleman up. [betty goes out.] wasner. at what time shall the executive committee meet? beermann [excited]. oh, leave me alone with your executive committee. wasner. you must not desert us in our hour of peril. a leader's fate is bound up with his followers according to german tradition. beermann [as before]. it is all your fault anyway. wasner. shall i then tell our sick friend that we cannot count on your support? beermann. if i am so situated that i can, i will be over to see him in an hour. i can't promise you more now. [assessor stroebel enters on left and remains standing in the doorway.] stroebel [very seriously.] herr beermann, i must speak to you privately. beermann [confused]. you--with me? well, since you must, i suppose you must. wasner. well, i am going. [wasner exit left.] [stroebel enters. wasner remains standing on the threshold.] the executive committee will be called to the sick bed of our friend. we shall await our chairman. [he goes. stroebel and beermann remain standing, silent, facing each other.] stroebel. you are surprised, i presume, that i come here at this unusual hour. beermann. why should i be surprised? stroebel. you will have to pardon me. the matter which brings me here is unusual and urgent. beermann. oh, don't mention it. [a short pause. they both clear their throats.] stroebel. you were in my office this morning ... beermann. was i? stroebel. why, of course you were in my office this morning. beermann. oh, yes, yes. i remember we had a short conference. i must ask you to excuse me, herr assessor. i am suffering with an awful ringing in the ears. it makes me so forgetful. stroebel. but i hope you still remember what we spoke about. beermann. very dimly. if you would remind me of it perhaps it will not be so difficult. stroebel. you came on account of the hauteville case. beermann. so-o? stroebel. or the hochstetter ... beermann. well, since you say so, it must be so. stroebel. first i thought you came to express your satisfaction that we had caught this person ... beermann. no, that was not my purpose. stroebel. i am sure it wasn't. i was quite surprised that you were not satisfied with her arrest. beermann. why shouldn't i not be satisfied with her arrest? stroebel [nervously]. but, herr beermann, you will recollect how we discussed the diary. beermann [quickly]. a diary? i know nothing about it. stroebel. you even became quite excited about it. beermann. i know nothing whatever of any diary. you never showed me any book at all. of that i am very positive. stroebel [in despair]. it is just my confounded luck to find you in this predicament. you are evidently suffering. beermann. an awful ringing in my ears-stroebel. i would leave you at once if the least delay were possible. but i simply must speak to you about it tonight. can't you get relief by taking medicine? beermann. no medicine can help me. i can only tell you that i do not know anything about any diary. stroebel. lord, lord, leave the diary out of it altogether. it is absolutely of no importance. beermann. it is of no importance? stroebel. of course, it is safely locked in my desk ... beermann. is that so? well, then i can't understand why you hurried to see me tonight. stroebel [very embarrassed]. but that is exactly what i wanted to explain to you. but how shall i do it? you scarcely remember any more than that you were in my office this morning. it is incredible how misfortune has been persecuting me since noon. beermann [greatly relieved]. well, calm yourself, herr assessor. it will come out right in the end. stroebel [downcast]. no, it can never come out right. beermann [soothingly]. sit down nicely in this chair--so! i'll sit next to you here--so! ... and now let us see about it. [they seat themselves on the left, upstage.] do you know, i am beginning to feel much better already. so the diary is in your desk. stroebel. for my part, let it be buried a thousand feet deep. for god's sake, don't talk of it any more. it takes us away from my subject. beermann. that's right. we shan't talk of it any more. now let me see, i called on you about the hauteville case.... stroebel. and on this occasion you demanded that the police suppress the matter. beermann. quite true, i did that. stroebel. there you are! and that's why i thought you were mostly interested in avoiding scandal. beermann. in what way? stroebel. not personally, but from a wholly humanitarian or civic standpoint. you even told me that just because of your position as president of the society for the suppression of vice, you regarded it as your duty to keep this matter out of the courts. beermann. only for the common welfare. stroebel. and out of consideration for public opinion. i had the impression that these considerations were of great importance to you. beermann. and still are. do you think i change my views? i repeat to you, that i would consider this court trial a misfortune because it would be contrary to the established order of society. stroebel. then we are agreed in our principles! beermann. you too? stroebel. absolutely. beermann. i thought that you had ... this forenoon ... stroebel. and i was also mistaken because you didn't seem to remember. but at any rate we agree in our principles. [they shake hands.] although that does not accomplish anything still it is a great relief to me that we understand each other. i am coming now to the real purpose of my visit. [he clears his throat.] herr beermann, i must demand your word of honor that not a syllable of what i tell you will ever pass your lips. beermann. my sacred word of honor. stroebel. these are official secrets, perhaps even state secrets, and a single careless word might have tremendous consequences. beermann. you can depend on me. stroebel. not even to your family. beermann. not a breath. stroebel. to tell you: since you were at my office this morning there were most remarkable developments, quite unique in their way. but i have your word of honor--have i not? beermann. my sacred word of honor. stroebel [bends low and protects his mouth with his hand and whispers]. that very night when madame hauteville's apartment was raided, without our knowledge a very distinguished person was hidden there. beermann. i can imagine. stroebel [loudly]. you can't imagine it at all. [whispering.] our young heir, prince emil, was there himself. beermann [surprised, slapping his thigh]. now what do you think of that! stroebel [loudly]. you can understand that i am not telling you this as a mere bit of gossip, but certain important reasons compel me to. that which you mentioned before about the reasons of state was fulfilled. fulfilled to the very letter. all possibilities of prosecuting this person at present have simply gone up in the air. beermann [starting from his seat]. then everything is all right. stroebel. there's nothing "all right" about it. keep your seat, herr beermann. of course our desire to prosecute has disappeared, but the lady in question is still at headquarters and we don't know how to get rid of her. beermann. madame hauteville? [stroebel nods.] just forget to lock the door and she'll vanish. stroebel [shaking his head]. no, ... for a great many reasons. do you think i did not try hard to find a solution? first, if we openly permit her to escape, the whole city will know it tomorrow; the press will take it up and there will be a far greater scandal than the court proceedings would cause. no, sir, at least the letter of the law must be carried out. madame hauteville must give a bond. she will be set free and then she must escape. that's the only way we can protect ourselves from criticism. do you understand me? beermann. you mean ... about the bail? stroebel. yes, sir, the bail first of all. but if it were only the bail! just think! she doesn't want to go at all. beermann. she does not want to ...? stroebel. no. i gave her another hearing this afternoon and told her that we don't care to bother with her any more. "listen," i said to her, "you are lucky. give bail of five thousand marks, and you will be free in ten minutes. there is a ten o'clock train for brussels tomorrow morning." [the bell in the hall rings.] what do you suppose she said? she laughed. she knows very well why we are so humane, but she will not give a bond of five marks, even if by luck she had it. she says that she has already prepared for a trial. i talked to her politely, then rudely. she will not budge. she laughs and laughs and that's all. [knock at the door. maid enters with a visiting card.] beermann [to the maid]. what does it all mean to-night, at this hour? this is not a hotel. [takes the card and reads.] freiherr bodo von schmettau, herr auf zirnberg? stroebel. do receive this gentleman, please. beermann. now, while we are conferring? stroebel. yes, now, if you please. beermann [to the maid]. ask the gentleman to come in. [betty exit.] stroebel. he is adjutant to the young prince. i told him i was going to see you, and you can realize how upset he is. beermann. if it affords you pleasure. stroebel. it does. the entire responsibility rests on me and i at least must show that i have left nothing undone. [knock on the door.] beermann. come in. [schmettau enters.] schmettau. good evening. stroebel [rising. beermann rises also]. may i introduce you gentlemen? herr beermann, the banker--herr baron schmettau. schmettau. we have already had a glimpse of each other today. beermann. yes, i remember. schmettau. you are the president of the local morality club. before we go further i must tell you that i do not at all agree with those views ... stroebel [interrupting with anxiety]. herr baron, may i call your attention to the fact that herr beermann, personally, is far above these narrow theories. schmettau. i am glad to hear it. besides as theories they're not so bad. beermann. as theories! that's what i say. schmettau. well, there you are! stroebel. herr beermann is also the candidate of the local conservative-liberal coalition. schmettau. then he is certainly no stickler for high-flown notions. i should be right glad if we understood each other. and how far are you, gentlemen? stroebel. in principles we are agreed. beermann. absolutely. schmettau. then we shall have no difficulty in finding the right solution. stroebel. i have taken herr beermann into our confidence. schmettau. that was a very disagreeable mishap, was it not? very bad. whoever has any patriotism can realize it. beermann. herr baron was also ... schmettau. locked in the closet. stroebel. permit me to revert to the facts. i was just telling herr beermann that this hauteville woman refuses to leave. she boasts that she has not the bail and even if she had it, she would not pay it. schmettau. confound her! she controls the situation. stroebel. now we come to the most difficult part of it. she says that if she is compelled to leave the city and is deprived of her livelihood, she wants proper damages for it. of course i told the woman that this, to say the least, was an extortionate demand. well then, she says, we will have a trial in court. beermann. the fox! she knows well that's out of the question. schmettau. i am very grateful to you for these sentiments. stroebel. i asked what she considered proper damages. "ten thousand marks," she says. i almost lost my senses. with the necessary bail that would make fifteen thousand marks. schmettau. in the end perhaps that is not so gigantic. stroebel. who is going to pay it? schmettau. not we, of course. our state is a poor paymaster. stroebel. here is a fine mess, which i cannot solve--at least not i. herr beermann, you said yourself that your society for the suppression of vice is vitally interested in the undisturbed maintenance of the popular belief in morality. for the members of your society, it ought to be quite easy to collect that sum. i know of no other way. beermann [with folded hands he stands in a pensive mood]. the executive committee is expecting its chairman. and i know of a professor who alone ought to pay an extra thousand for a letter he wrote. [to the others.] gentlemen, briefly speaking, i will do it. on behalf of the society, i pledge this sum. schmettau. herr von beermann, i can only say that you have acted honorably. the house of emil the benevolent knows on whom to confer an order. [he offers his hand.] beermann. but let me assure you, herr baron, i did not do it expecting a reward. curtain this ebook was produced by david widger <widger@cecomet.net> a thorny path by georg ebers volume 6. chapter xvii. the philosopher announced the visitor to caesar, and as some little time elapsed before melissa came in, caracalla forgot his theatrical assumption, and sat with a drooping head; for, in consequence, no doubt, of the sunshine which beat on the top of his head, the pain had suddenly become almost unendurably violent. without vouchsafing a glance at melissa, he swallowed one of the alleviating pills left him by galenus, and hid his face in his hands. the girl came forward, fearless of the lion, for philostratos had assured her that he was tamed, and most animals were willing to let her touch them. nor was she afraid of caesar himself, for she saw that he was in pain, and the alarm with which she had crossed the threshold gave way to pity. philostratus kept at her side, and anxiously watched caracalla. the courage the simple girl showed in the presence of the ferocious brute, and the not less terrible man, struck him favorably, and his hopes rose as a sunbeam fell on her shining hair, which the lady berenike had arranged with her own hand, twining it with strands of white bombyx. she must appear, even to this ruthless profligate, as the very type of pure and innocent grace. her long robe and peplos, of the finest white wool, also gave her an air of distinction which suited the circumstances. it was a costly garment, which berenike had had made for korinna, and she had chosen it from among many instead of the plainer robe in which old dido had dressed her young mistress. with admirable taste the matron had aimed at giving melissa a simple, dignified aspect, unadorned and almost priestess-like in its severity. nothing should suggest the desire to attract, and everything must exclude the idea of a petitioner of the poorer and commoner sort. philostratus saw that her appearance had been judiciously cared for; but caesar's long silence, of which he knew the reason, began to cause him some uneasiness: for, though pain sometimes softened the despot's mood, it more often prompted him to revenge himself, as it were, for his own sufferings, by brutal attacks on the comfort and happiness of others. and, at last, even melissa seemed to be losing the presence of mind he had admired, for he saw her bosom heave faster and higher, her lips quivered, and her large eyes sparkled through tears. caesar's countenance presently cleared a little. he raised his head, and as his eye met melissa's she pronounced in a low, sweet voice the pleasant greek greeting, "rejoice!" at this moment the philosopher was seized with a panic of anxiety; he felt for the first time the weight of responsibility he had taken on himself. never had he thought her so lovely, so enchantingly bewitching as now, when she looked up at caracalla in sweet confusion and timidity, but wholly possessed by her desire to win the favor of the man who, with a word, could make her so happy or so wretched. if this slave of his passions, whom a mere whim perhaps had moved to insist on the strictest morality in his court, should take a fancy to this delightful young creature, she was doomed to ruin. he turned pale, and his heart throbbed painfully as he watched the development of the catastrophe for which he had himself prepared the way. but, once more, the unexpected upset the philosopher's anticipations. caracalla gazed at the girl in amazement, utterly discomposed, as though some miracle had happened, or a ghost had started from the ground before him. springing up, while he clutched the back of his chair, he exclaimed: "what is this? do my senses deceive me, or is it some base trickery? no, no! my eyes and my memory are good. this girl--" "what ails thee, caesar?" philostratus broke in, with increasing anxiety. "something--something which will silence your foolish doubts--" caesar panted out. "patience--wait. only a minute, and you shall see.--but, first"--and he turned to melissa--"what is your name, girl?" "melissa," she replied, in a low and tremulous voice. "and your father's and your mother's?" "heron is my father's name, and my mother--she is dead--was called olympias, the daughter of philip." "and you are of macedonian race?" "yes, my lord. my father and mother both were of pure macedonian descent." the emperor glanced triumphantly at philostratus, and briefly exclaiming, "that will do, i think," he clapped his hands, and instantly his old chamberlain, adventus, hurried in from the adjoining room, followed by the whole band of "caesar's friends." caracalla, however, only said to them: "you can wait till i call you.--you, adventus! i want the gem with the marriage of alexander." the freedman took the gem out of an ebony casket standing on caesar's writing-table, and caracalla, holding the philosopher by the arm, said, with excited emphasis: "that gem i inherited from my father, the divine severus. it was engraved before that child came into the world. now you shall see it, and if you then say that it is an illusion--but why should you doubt it? pythagoras and your hero apollonius both knew whose body their souls had inhabited in a former existence. mine--though my mother has laughed at my belief, and others have dared to do the same-mine, five hundred years ago, dwelt in the greatest of heroes, alexander the macedonian--a right royal tabernacle!" he snatched the gem from the chamberlain's hand, and while he devoured it with his eyes, looking from time to time into melissa's face, he eagerly ran on: "it is she. none but a blind man, a fool, a malignant idiot, could doubt it! any who henceforth shall dare mock at my conviction that i was brought into the world to fulfill the life-span of that great hero, will learn to rue it! here--it is but natural--here, in the city he founded and which bears his name, i have found positive proof that the bond which unites the son of philip with the son of severus is something more than a mere fancy. this maiden--look at her closely--is the re-embodiment of the soul of roxana, as i am of that of her husband. even you must see now how naturally it came about that she should uplift her heart and hands in prayer for me. her soul, when it once dwelt in roxana, was fondly linked with that of the hero; and now, in the bosom of this simple maiden, it is drawn to the unforgotten fellow-soul which has found its home in my breast." he spoke with enthusiastic and firm conviction of the truth of his strange imagining, as though he were delivering a revelation from the gods. he bade philostratus approach and compare the features of roxana, as carved in the onyx, with those of the young supplicant. the fair persian stood facing alexander; they were clasping each other's hands in pledge of marriage, and a winged hymen fluttered above their heads with his flaming torch. philostratus was, in fact, startled as he looked at the gem, and expressed his surprise in the liveliest terms, for the features of roxana as carved in the cameo, no larger than a man's palm, were, line for line, those of the daughter of heron. and this sport of chance could not but be amazing to any one who did not know--as neither of the three who were examining the gem knew--that it was a work of heron's youth, and that he had given roxana the features of his bride olympias, whose living image her daughter melissa had grown to be. "and how long have you had this work of art?" asked philostratus. "i inherited it, as i tell you, from my father," replied caracalla. "severus sometimes wore it.--but wait. after the battle of issos, in his triumph over pescennius niger--i can see him now--he wore it on his shoulder, and that was--" "two-and-twenty years ago," the philosopher put in; and caracalla, turning to melissa, asked her: "how old are you, child?" "eighteen, my lord." and the reply delighted caesar; he laughed aloud, and looked triumphantly at philostratus. the philosopher willingly admitted that there was something strange in the incident, and he congratulated caesar on having met with such strong confirmation of his inward conviction. the soul of alexander might now do great things through him. during this conversation the alarm which had come over melissa at caesar's silence had entirely disappeared. the despot whose suffering had appealed to her sympathetic soul, now struck her as singular rather than terrible. the idea that she, the humble artist's daughter, could harbor the soul of a persian princess, amused her; and when the lion lifted his head and lashed the floor with his tail at her approach, she felt that she had won his approbation. moved by a sudden impulse, she laid her hand on his head and boldly stroked it. the light, warm touch soothed the fettered prince of the desert, and, rubbing his brow against melissa's round arm, he muttered a low, contented growl. at this caesar was enchanted; it was to him a further proof of his strange fancy. the "sword of persia" was rarely so friendly to any one; and theocritus owed much of the favor shown him by caracalla to the fact that at their first meeting the lion had been on particularly good terms with him. still, the brute had never shown so much liking for any stranger as for this young girl, and never responded with such eager swinging of his tail excepting to caesar's own endearments. it must be instinct which had revealed to the beast the old and singular bond which linked his master and this new acquaintance. caracalla, who, in all that happened to him, traced the hand of a superior power, pointed this out to philostratus, and asked him whether, perhaps, the attack of pain he had just suffered might not have yielded so quickly to the presence of the revived roxana rather than to galen's pills. philostratus thought it wise not to dispute this assumption, and soon diverted the conversation to the subject of melissa's imprisoned relations. he quietly represented to caracalla that his noblest task must be to satisfy the spirit of her who had been so dear to the hero whose life he was to fulfill; and caesar, who was delighted that the philosopher should recognize as a fact the illusion which flattered him, at once agreed. he questioned melissa about her brother alexander with a gentleness of which few would have thought him capable; and the sound of her voice, as she answered him modestly but frankly and with sisterly affection, pleased him so well that he allowed her to speak without interruption longer than was his wont. finally, he promised her that he would question the painter, and, if possible, be gracious to him. he again clapped his hands, and ordered a freedman named epagathos, who was one of his favorite body-servants, to send immediately for alexander from the prison. as before, when adventus had been summoned, a crowd followed epagathos, and, as caesar did not dismiss them, melissa was about to withdraw; the despot, however, desired her to wait. blushing, and confused with shyness, she remained standing by caesar's seat; and though she only ventured to raise her eyes now and then for a stolen look, she felt herself the object of a hundred curious, defiant, bold, or contemptuous glances. how gladly would she have escaped, or have sunk into the earth! but there she had to stand, her teeth set, while her lips trembled, to check the tears which would rise. caesar, meanwhile, took no further notice of her. he was longing to relate at full length, to his friends and companions, the wonderful and important thing that had happened; but he would not approach the subject while they took their places in his presence. foremost of them, with theocritus, came the high-priest of serapis, and caracalla immediately desired them to introduce the newly appointed head-guardian of the peace. but the election was not yet final. the choice lay, theocritus explained, between two equally good men. one, aristides, was a greek of high repute, and the other was only an egyptian, but so distinguished for zealous severity that, for his part, he should vote for him. at this the high-priest broke in, saying that the man favored by theocritus did in fact possess the qualities for which he was commended, but in such a measure that he was utterly hated by the greek population; and in alexandria more could be achieved by justice and mercy than by defiant severity. but at this the favorite laughed, and said that he was convinced of the contrary. a populace which could dare to mock at the divine caesar, the guest of their city, with such gross audacity, must be made to smart under the power of rome and its ruler. the deposed magistrate had lost his place for the absurd measures he had proposed, and aristides was in danger of following in his footsteps. "by no means," the high-priest said, with calm dignity. "the greek, whom i would propose, is a worthy and determined man. now, zminis the egyptian, the right hand of the man who has been turned out, is, it must be said, a wretch without ruth or conscience." but here the discussion was interrupted. melissa, whose ears had tingled as she listened, had started with horror as she heard that zminis, the in former, was to be appointed to the command of the whole watch of the city. if this should happen, her brothers and father were certainly lost. this must be prevented. as the high-priest ceased speaking, she laid her hand on caesar's, and, when he looked up at her in surprise, she whispered to him, so low and so quickly that hardly any one observed it "not zminis; he is our mortal enemy!" caracalla scarcely glanced at the face of the daring girl, but he saw how pale she had turned. the delicate color in her cheeks, and the dimple he had seen while she stroked the lion had struck him as particularly fascinating. this had helped to make her so like the roxana on the gem, and the change in her roused his pity. she must smile again; and so, accustomed as he was to visit his annoyance on others, he angrily exclaimed to his "friends": "can i be everywhere at once? can not the simplest matter be settled without me? it was the praetorian prefect's business to report to me concerning the two candidates, if you could not agree; but i have not seen him since last evening. the man who has to be sought when i need him neglects his duty! macrinus usually knows his. does any one know what has detained him?" the question was asked in an angry, nay, in an ominous tone, but the praetorian prefect was a powerful personage, whose importance made him almost invulnerable. yet the praetor lucius priscillianus was ready with an answer. he was the most malicious and ill-natured scandal-monger at court; and he hated the prefect, for he himself had coveted the post, which was the highest in the state next to caesar's. he had always some slaves set to spy upon macrinus, and he now said, with a contemptuous shrug: "it is a marvel to me that so zealous a man--though he is already beginning to break down under his heavy duties--should be so late. however, he here spends his evenings and nights in special occupations, which must of course be far from beneficial to the health and peace of mind which his office demands." "what can those be?" asked caracalla; but the praetor added without a pause: "merciful gods! who would not crave to glance into the future?" "and it is that which makes him late?" said caesar, with more curiosity than anger. "hardly by broad daylight," replied priscillianus. "the spirits he would fain evoke shun the light of day, it is said. but he may be weary with late watching and painful agitations." "then he calls up spirits at night?" "undoubtedly, great caesar. but, in this capital of philosophy, spirits are illogical it would seem. how can macrinus interpret the prophecy that he, who is already on the highest step attainable to us lower mortals, shall rise yet higher?" "we will ask him," said caesar, indifferently. "but you--guard your tongue. it has already cost some men their heads, whom i would gladly see yet among the living. wishes can not be punished. who does not wish to stand on the step next above his own? you, my friend, would like that of macrinus.--but deeds! you know me! i am safe from them, so long as each of you so sincerely grudges his neighbor every promotion. you, my lucius, have again proved how keen your sight is, and, if it were not too great an honor for this refractory city to have a roman in the toga praetexta at the head of its administration, i should like to make you the guardian of the peace here. you see me," he went on, "in an elated mood to-day.--cilo, you know this gem which came tome from my father. look at it, and at this maiden.--come nearer, priest of the divine alexander; and you too consider the marvel, theocritus, antigonus, dio, pandion, paulinus. compare the face of the female figure with this girl by my side. the master carved this roxana long before she was born. you are surprised? as alexander's soul dwells in me, so she is roxana, restored to life. it has been proved by irrefragable evidence in the presence of philostratus." the priest of alexander here exclaimed, in a tone of firm conviction: "a marvel indeed! we bow down to the noble vessel of the soul of alexander. i, the priest of that hero, attest that great caesar has found that in which roxana's soul now exists." and as he spoke he pressed his hand to his heart, bowing low before caesar; the rest imitated his example. even julius paulinus, the satirist, followed the roman priest's lead; but he whispered in the ear of cassius dio "alexander's soul was inquisitive, and wanted to see how it could live in the body which, of all mortal tenements on earth, least resembles his own." a mocking word was on the ex-consul's lips as to the amiable frame of mind which had so suddenly come over caesar; but he preferred to watch and listen, as caracalla beckoned theocritus to him and begged him to give up the appointment of zminis, though, as a rule, he indulged the favorite's every whim. he could not bear, he said, to intrust the defense of his own person and of the city of alexander to an egyptian, so long as a greek could be found capable of the duty. he proposed presently to have the two candidates brought before him, and to decide between them in the presence of the prefect of the praetorians. then, turning to those of his captains who stood around him, he said: "greet my soldiers from me. i could not show myself to them yesterday. i saw just now, with deep regret, how the rain has drenched them in this luxurious city. i will no longer endure it. the praetorians and the macedonian legion shall be housed in quarters of which they will tell wonders for a long time to come. i would rather see them sleeping in white wool and eating off silver than these vile traders. tell them that." he was here interrupted, for epagathos announced a deputation from the museum, and, at the same time, the painter alexander, who had been brought from prison. at this caracalla exclaimed with disgust: "spare me the hair-splitting logicians!--do you, philostratus, receive them in my name. if they make any impudent demands, you may tell them my opinion of them and their museum. go, but come back quickly. bring in the painter. i will speak with him alone.--you, my friends, withdraw with our idiologos, the priest of alexander, who is well known here, and visit the city. i shall not require you at present." the whole troop hastened to obey. caracalla now turned to melissa once more, and his eye brightened as he again discerned the dimple in her cheeks, which had recovered their roses. her imploring eyes met his, and the happy expectation of seeing her brother lent them a light which brought joy to the friendless sovereign. during his last speech he had looked at her from time to time; but in the presence of so many strangers she had avoided meeting his gaze. now she thought that she might freely show him that his favor was a happiness to her. her soul, as roxana, must of course feel drawn to his; in that he firmly believed. her prayer and sacrifice for him sufficiently proved it--as he told himself once more. when alexander was brought in, it did not anger him to see that the brother, who held out his arms to melissa in his habitual eager way, had to be reminded by her of the imperial presence. every homage was due to this fair being, and he was, besides, much struck by alexander's splendid appearance. it was long since any youthful figure had so vividly reminded him of the marble statues of the great athenian masters. melissa's brother stood before him, the very embodiment of the ideal of greek strength and manly beauty. his mantle had been taken from him in prison, and he wore only the short chiton, which also left bare his powerful but softly modeled arms. he had been allowed no time to arrange and anoint his hair, and the light-brown curls were tossed in disorderly abundance about his shapely head. this favorite of the gods appeared in caesar's eyes as an olympic victor, who had come to claim the wreath with all the traces of the struggle upon him. no sign of fear, either of caesar or his lion, marred this impression. his bow, as he approached the potentate, was neither abject nor awkward, and caesar felt bitter wrath at the thought that this splendid youth, of all men, should have selected him as the butt of his irony. he would have regarded it as a peculiar gift of fortune if this man--such a brother of such a sister--could but love him, and, with the eye of an artist, discern in the despot the great qualities which, in spite of his many crimes, he believed he could detect in himself. and he hoped, with an admixture of anxiety such as he had never known before, that the painter's demeanor would be such as should allow him to show mercy. when alexander besought him with a trustful mien to consider his youth, and the alexandrian manners which he had inherited both from his parents and his grandparents, if indeed his tongue had wagged too boldly in speaking of the all-powerful caesar, and to remember the fable of the lion and the mouse, the scowl he had put on to impress the youth with his awfulness and power vanished from caesar's brow. the idea that this great artist, whose sharp eye could so surely distinguish the hideous from the beautiful, should regard him as ill-favored, was odious to him. he had listened to him in silence; but suddenly he inquired of alexander whether it was indeed he, whom he had never injured, who had written the horrible epigram nailed with the rope to the door of the serapeum and when the painter emphatically denied it, caesar breathed as though a burden had fallen from his soul. he nevertheless insisted on hearing from the youth's own lips what it was that he had actually dared to say. after some hesitation, during which melissa besought caesar in vain to spare her and her brother this confession, alexander exclaimed: "then the hunted creature must walk into the net, and, unless your clemency interferes, on to death! what i said referred partly to the wonderful strength that you, my lord, have so often displayed in the field and in the circus; and also to another thing, which i myself now truly repent of having alluded to. it is said that my lord killed his brother." "that--ah! that was it!" said caesar, and his face, involuntarily this time, grew dark. "yes, my lord," alexander went on, breathing hard. "to deny it would be to add a second crime to the former one, and i am one of those who would rather jump into cold water both feet at once, when it has to be done. all the world knows what your strength is; and i said that it was greater than that of father zeus; for that he had cast his son hephaestos only on the earth, and your strong fist had cast your brother through the earth into the depths of hades. that was all. i have not added nor concealed anything." melissa had listened in terror to this bold confession. papinian, the brave praetorian prefect, one of the most learned lawyers of his time, had incurred caracalla's fury by refusing to say that the murder of geta was not without excuse; and his noble answer, that it was easier to commit fratricide than to defend it, cost him his life. so long as caesar had been kind to her, melissa had felt repelled by him; but now, when he was angry, she was once more attracted to him. as the wounds of a murdered man are said to bleed afresh when the murderer approaches, caracalla's irritable soul was wont to break out in a frenzy of rage when any one was so rash as to allude to this, his foulest crime. this reference to his brother's death had as usual stirred his wrath, but he controlled it; for as a torrent of rain extinguishes the fire which a lightning-flash has kindled, the homage to his strength, in alexander's satire, had modified his indignation. the irony which made the artist's contemptuous words truly witty, would not have escaped caracalla's notice if they had applied to any one else; but he either did not feel it, or would not remark it, for the sake of leaving melissa in the belief that his physical strength was really wonderful. besides, he thus could indulge his wish to avoid pronouncing sentence of death on this youth; he only measured him with a severe eye, and said in threatening tones, to repay mockery in kind and to remind the criminal of the fate imperial clemency should spare him: "i might be tempted to try my strength on you, but that it is worse to try a fall with a vaporing wag, the sport of the winds, than with the son of caesar. and if i do not condescend to the struggle, it is because you are too light for such an arm as this." and as he spoke he boastfully grasped the muscles which constant practice had made thick and firm. "but my hand reaches far. every man-at-arms is one of its fingers, and there are thousands of them. you have made acquaintance already, i fancy, with those which clutched you." "not so," replied alexander, with a faint smile, as he bowed humbly. "i should not dare resist your great strength, but the watch-dogs of the law tried in vain to track me. i gave myself up." "of your own accord?" "to procure my father's release, as he had been put in prison." "most magnanimous!" said caesar, ironically. "such a deed sounds well, but is apt to cost a man his life. you seem to have overlooked that. "no, great caesar; i expected to die." "then you are a philosopher, a contemner of life." "neither. i value life above all else; for, if it is taken from me, there is an end of enjoying its best gifts." "best gifts!" echoed caesar. "i should like to know which you honor with the epithet." "love and art." "indeed?" said caracalla, with a swift glance at melissa. then, in an altered voice, he added, "and revenge?" "that," said the artist, boldly, "is a pleasure i have not yet tasted. no one ever did me a real injury till the villain zminis robbed my guiltless father of his liberty; and he is not worthy to do such mischief, as a finger of your imperial hand." at this, caesar looked at him suspiciously, and said in stern tones: "but you have now the opportunity of trying the fine flavor of vengeance. if i were timid--since the egyptian acted only as my instrument--i should have cause to protect myself against you." "by no means," said the painter, with an engaging smile, "it lies in your power to do me the greatest benefit. do it, caesar! it would be a joy to me to show that, though i have been reckless beyond measure, i am nevertheless a grateful man." "grateful?" repeated caracalla, with a cruel laugh. then he rose slowly, and looked keenly at alexander, exclaiming: "i should almost like to try you." "and i will answer for it that you will never regret it!" melissa put in. "greatly as he has erred, he is worthy of your clemency." "is he?" said caesar, looking down at her kindly. "what roxana's soul affirms by those rosy lips i can not but believe." then again he paused, studying alexander with a searching eye, and added: "you think me strong; but you will change that opinion--which i value-if i forgive you like a poor-spirited girl. you are in my power. you risked your life. if i give it you, i must have a gift in return, that i may not be cheated." "set my father free, and he will do whatever you may require of him," melissa broke out. but caracalla stopped her, saying: "no one makes conditions with caesar. stand back, girl." melissa hung her head and obeyed; but she stood watching the eager discussion between these two dissimilar men, at first with anxiety and then with surprise. alexander seemed to resist caesar's demands; but presently the despot must have proposed something which pleased the artist, for melissa heard the low, musical laugh which had often cheered her in moments of sadness. then the conversation was more serious, and caracalla said, so loud that melissa could hear him: "do not forget to whom you speak. if my word is not enough, you can go back to prison." then again she trembled for her brother; but some soft word of his mollified the fury of the terrible man, who was never the same for two minutes together. the lion, too, which lay unchained by his master's seat, gave her a fright now and then; for if caesar raised his voice in anger, he growled and stood up. how fearful were this beast and his lord! rather would she spend her whole life on a ship's deck, tossed to and fro by the surges, than share this man's fate. and yet there was in him something which attracted her; nay, and it nettled her that he should forget her presence. at last alexander humbly asked caracalla whether he might not tell melissa to what he had pledged his word. "that shall be my business," replied caesar. "you think that a mere girl is a better witness than none at all. perhaps you are right. then let it be understood: whatever you may have to report to me, my wrath shall not turn against you. this fellow--why should you not be told, child?-is going into the town to collect all the jests and witty epigrams which have been uttered in my honor." "alexander!" cried melissa, clasping her hands and turning pale with horror. but caracalla laughed to himself, and went on cheerfully: "yes, it is dangerous work, no doubt; and for that reason i pledged my word as caesar not to require him to pay for the sins of others. on the contrary, he is free, if the posy he culls for me is sufficient." "ay," said alexander, on whom his sister's white face and warning looks were having effect. "but you made me another promise on which i lay great stress. you will not compel me to tell you, nor try to discover through any other man, who may have spoken or written any particular satire." "enough!" said caracalla, impatiently; but alexander was not to be checked. he went on vehemently: "i have not forgotten that you said conditions were not to be made with caesar; but, in spite of my impotence, i maintain the right of returning to my prison and there awaiting my doom, unless you once more assure me, in this girl's presence, that you will neither inquire as to the names of the authors of any gibes i may happen to have heard, nor compel me by any means whatever to give up the names of the writers of epigrams. why should i not satisfy your curiosity and your relish of a sharp jest? but rather than do the smallest thing which might savor of treachery--ten times rather the axe or the gallows!" and caracalla replied with a dark frown, loudly and briefly: "i promise." "and if your rage is too much for you?" wailed melissa, raising her hands in entreaty; but the despot replied, sternly: "there is no passion which can betray caesar into perjury." at this moment philostratus came in again, with epagathos, who announced the praetorian prefect. melissa, encouraged by the presence of her kind protector, went on: but, great caesar, you will release my father and my other brother?" "perhaps," replied caracalla. "first we will see how this one carries out his task." "you will be satisfied, my lord," said the young man, looking quite happy again, for he was delighted at the prospect of saying audacious things to the face of the tyrant whom all were bent on flattering, and holding up the mirror to him without, as he firmly believed, bringing any danger on himself or others. he bowed to go. melissa did the same, saying, as airily as though she were free to come and go here: "accept my thanks, great caesar. oh, how fervently will i pray for you all my life, if only you show mercy to my father and brothers!" "that means that you are leaving me?" asked caracalla. "how can it be otherwise?" said melissa, timidly. "i am but a girl, and the men whom you expect--" "but when they are gone?" caesar insisted. "even then you can not want me," she murmured. "you mean," said caracalla, bitterly, "that you are afraid to come back. you mean that you would rather keep out of the way of the man you prayed for, so long as he is well. and if the pain which first aroused your sympathy attacks him again, even then will you leave the irascible sovereign to himself or the care of the gods?" "not so, not so," said melissa, humbly, looking into his eyes with an expression that pierced him to the heart, so that he added, with gentle entreaty: "then show that you are she whom i believe you to be. i do not compel you. go whither you will, stay away even if i send for you; but"--and here his brow clouded again--"why should i try to be merciful to her from whom i looked for sympathy and kindliness, when she flees from me like the rest?" "o my lord!" melissa sighed distressfully. "go!" caesar went on. "i do not need you." "no, no," the girl cried, in great trouble. "call me, and i will come. only shelter me from the others, and from their looks of scorn; only-o immortal gods!--if you need me, i will serve you, and willingly, with all my heart. but if you really care for me, if you desire my presence, why let me suffer the worst?" here a sudden flood of tears choked her utterance. a smile of triumph passed over caesar's features, and drawing melissa's hands away from her tearful face, he said, kindly: "alexander's soul pines for roxana's; that is what makes your presence so dear to me. never shall you have cause to rue coming at my call. i swear it by the manes of my divine father--you, philostratus, are witness." the philosopher, who thought he knew caracalla, gave a sigh of relief; and alexander gladly reflected that the danger he had feared for his sister was averted. this craze about roxana, of which caracalla had just now spoken to him as a certain fact, he regarded as a monstrous illusion of this strange man's, which would, however, be a better safeguard for melissa than pledges and oaths. he clasped her hand, and said with cheerful confidence: "only send for her when you are ill, my lord, as long as you remain here. i know from your own lips that there is no passion which can betray caesar into perjury. will you permit her to come with me for the present?" "no," said caracalla, sharply, and he bade him go about the business he had in hand. then, turning to philostratus, he begged him to conduct melissa to euryale, the high-priest's noble wife, for she had been a kind and never-forgotten friend of his mother's. the philosopher gladly escorted the young girl to the matron, who had long been anxiously awaiting her return. chapter xviii. the statue of serapis, a figure of colossal size, carved by the masterhand of bryaxis, out of ivory overlaid with gold, sat enthroned in the inner chamber of the great temple of serapis, with the kalathos crowning his bearded face, and the three-headed cerberus at his feet, gazing down in supreme silence on the scene around. he did not lack for pious votaries and enthusiastic admirers, for, so long as caesar was his guest, the curtain was withdrawn which usually hid his majestic form from their eyes. but his most devoted worshipers thought that the god's noble, benevolent, grave countenance had a wrathful look; for, though nothing had been altered in this, the finest pillared hall in the world; though the beautiful pictures in relief on the walls and ceiling, the statues and altars of marble, bronze, and precious metals between the columns, and the costly mosaic-work of many colors which decked the floor in regular patterns, were the same as of yore, this splendid pavement was trodden to-day by thousands of feet which had no concern with the service of the god. before caesar's visit, solemn silence had ever reigned in this worthy home of the deity, fragrant with the scarcely visible fumes of kyphi; and the worshipers gathered without a sound round the foot of his statue, and before the numerous altars and the smaller images of the divinities allied to him or the votive tablets recording the gifts and services instituted in honor of serapis by pious kings or citizens. on feastdays, and during daily worship, the chant of priestly choirs might be heard, or the murmur of prayer; and the eye might watch the stolists who crowned the statues with flowers and ribbons, as required by the ritual, or the processions of priests in their various rank. carrying sacred relics and figures of the gods on trays or boats, with emblematic standards, scepters, and cymbals, they moved about the sacred precinct in prescribed order, and most of them fulfilled their duties with devotion and edification. but caesar's presence seemed to have banished these solemn feelings. from morning till night the great temple swarmed with visitors, but their appearance and demeanor were more befitting the market-place or public bath than the sanctuary. it was now no more than the anteroom to caesar's audience-chamber, and thronged with roman senators, legates, tribunes, and other men of rank, and the clients and "friends" of caesar, mingled with soldiers of inferior grades, scribes, freedmen, and slaves, who had followed in caracalla's train. there were, too, many alexandrians who expected to gain some benefit, promotion, or distinction through the emperor's favorites. most of these kept close to his friends and intimates, to make what profit they could out of them. some were corn and wine dealers, or armorers, who wished to obtain contracts for supplying the army; others were usurers, who had money to lend on the costly objects which warriors often acquired as booty; and here, as everywhere, bedizened and painted women were crowding round the freehanded strangers. there were magians, astrologers, and magicians by the dozen, who considered this sacred spot the most suitable place in which to offer their services to the romans, always inquisitive for signs and charms. they knew how highly egyptian magic was esteemed throughout the empire; though their arts were in fact prohibited, each outdid the other in urgency, and not less in a style of dress which should excite curiosity and expectancy. serapion held aloof. excepting that he wore a beard and robe, his appearance even had nothing in common with them; and his talar was not like theirs, embroidered with hieroglyphics, tongues, and flames, but of plain white stuff, which gave him the aspect of a learned and priestly sage. as alexander, on his way through the temple to fulfill caesar's commission, went past the magian, castor, his supple accomplice, stole up behind a statue, and, when the artist disappeared in the crowd, whispered to his master: "the rascally painter is at liberty!" "till further notice!" was the reply, and serapion was about to give his satellite some instructions, when a hand was laid on his shoulder, and zminis said in a low voice: "i am glad to have found you here. accusations are multiplying against you, my friend; and though i have kept my eyes shut till now, that cannot last much longer." "let us hope you are mistaken," replied the magian, firmly. and then he went on in a hurried whisper: "i know what your ambition is, and my support may be of use to you. but we must not be seen together. we will meet again in the instrument-room, to the left of the first stairs up to the observatory. you will find me there." "at once, then," said the other. "i am to be in caesar's presence in a quarter of an hour." the magian, as being one of the most skillful makers of astronomical instruments, and attached to the sanctuary, had a key of the room he had designated. zminis found him there, and their business was quickly settled. they knew each other well, and each knew things of the other which inspired them with mutual fear. however, as time pressed, they set aside all useless antagonisms, to unite against the common foe. the magian knew already that zminis had been named to caesar as a possible successor to the chief of the night-watch, and that he had a powerful rival. by the help of the syrian, whose ventriloquism was so perfect that he never failed to produce the illusion that his feigned voice proceeded from any desired person or thing, serapion had enmeshed the praetorian prefect, the greatest magnate in the empire next to caesar himself, and in the course of the past night had gained a firm hold over him. macrinus, a man of humble birth, who owed his promotion to severus, the father of caracalla, had, the day before, been praying in the pantheon to the statue of his deceased patron. a voice had proceeded from the image, telling him that the divine severus needed him for a great work. a pious seer was charged to tell him more exactly what this was; and he would meet him if he went at about sunset to the shrine of isis, and called three times on the name of severus before the altar of the goddess. the syrian ventriloquist had, by serapion's orders, hidden behind a pillar and spoken to the prefect from the statue; and macrinus had, of course, obeyed his instructions. he had met the magian in the temple of isis, and what he had seen, heard, and felt during the night had so deeply affected him that he had promised to revisit serapion the next evening. what means he had used to enslave so powerful a man the magian did not tell his ally; but he declared that macrinus was as wax in his hands, and he came to an agreement with the egyptian that if he, serapion, should bring about the promotion for which zminis sighed, zminis, on his part, should give him a free hand, and commend his arts to caesar. it needed but a few minutes to conclude this compact; but then the magian proceeded to insist that alexander's father and brother should be made away with. "impossible," replied zminis. "i should be only too glad to wring the necks of the whole brood; but, as it is, i am represented to caesar as too stern and ruthless. and a pretty little slut, old heron's daughter, has entangled him in her toils." "no," said serapion, positively. "i have seen the girl, and she is as innocent as a child. but i know the force of contrast: when depravity meets purity--" "come, no philosophizing!" interrupted the other. "we have better things to attend to, and one or the other may turn to your advantage." and he told him that caesar, whose whim it was to spare alexander's life, regarded melissa as an incarnation of roxana. "that is worth considering," said the magian, stroking his beard meditatively; then he suddenly exclaimed: "by the law, as you know, all the relatives of a state criminal are sent to the quarries or the mines. dispatch heron and his philosopher son forthwith. whither?--that is your concern; only, for the next few days they must be out of reach." "good!" said the egyptian, and an odious smile overspread his thin brown face. "they may go as galley-slaves and row themselves to the sardinian mines. a good idea!" "i have even better ideas than that to serve a friend," replied serapion. "only get the philosopher out of the way. if caesar lends an ear to his ready tongue, i shall never see you guardian of the peace. the painter is less dangerous." "he shall share their fate," cried the spy, and he licked his thick lips as if tasting some dainty morsel. he waved an adieu to the magian, and hastened back to the great hall. there he strictly instructed one of his subordinates to take care that the gem-cutter and his son philip found places on board a galley bound for sardinia. at the great door he again met serapion, with the syrian at his heels, and the magian said: "my friend here has just seen a clay figure, molded by some practiced hand. it represents caesar as a defiant warrior, but in the shape of a deformed dwarf. it is hideously like him; you can see it at the elephant tavern." the egyptian pressed his hand, with an eager "that will serve," and hastily went out. two hours slipped by, and zminis was still waiting in caesar's anteroom. the greek, aristides, shared his fate, the captain hitherto of the armed guard; while zminis had been the head of the spies, intrusted with communicating written reports to the chief of the night-watch. the greek's noble, soldierly figure looked strikingly fine by the slovenly, lank frame of the tall egyptian. they both knew that within an hour or so one would be supreme over the other; but of this they thought it best to say nothing. zminis, as was his custom when he wished to assume an appearance of respect which he did not feel, was alternately abject and pressingly confidential; while aristides calmly accepted his hypocritical servility, and answered it with dignified condescension. nor had they any lack of subjects, for their interests were the same, and they both had the satisfaction of reflecting what injury must ensue to public safety through their long and useless detention here. but when two full hours had elapsed without their being bidden to caesar's presence, or taken any notice of by their supporters, zminis grew wroth, and the greek frowned in displeasure. meanwhile the anteroom was every moment more crowded, and neither chose to give vent to his anger. still, when the door to the inner chambers was opened for a moment, and loud laughter and the ring of wine-cups fell on their ears, aristides shrugged his shoulders, and the egyptian's eyes showed an ominous white ring glaring out of his brown face. caracalla had meanwhile received the praetorian prefect; he had forgiven him his long delay, when macrinus, of his own accord, had told him of the wonderful things serapion had made known to him. the prefect's son, too, had been invited to the banquet of seleukus; and when caracalla heard from him and others of the splendor of the feast, he had begun to feel hungry. even with regard to food, caesar acted only on the impulse of the moment; and though, in the field, he would, to please his soldiers, be content with a morsel of bread and a little porridge, at home he highly appreciated the pleasures of the table. whenever he gave the word, an abundant meal must at once be ready. it was all the same to him what was kept waiting or postponed, so long as something to his taste was set before him. macrinus, indeed, humbly reminded him that the guardians of the peace were awaiting him; but he only waved his hand with contempt, and proceeded to the dining-room, which was soon filled with a large number of guests. within a few minutes the first dish was set before his couch, and, as plenty of good stories were told, and an admirable band of flute-playing and singing girls filled up the pauses in the conversation, he enjoyed his meal. in spite, too, of the warning which galenus had impressed on his roman physician, he drank freely of the fine wine which had been brought out for him from the airy lofts of the serapeum, and those about him were surprised at their master's unwonted good spirits. he was especially gracious to the high-priest, whom he bade to a place by his side; and he even accepted his arm as a support, when, the meal being over, they returned to the tablinum. 'there he flung himself on a couch, with a burning head, and began feeding the lion, without paying any heed to his company. it was a pleasure to him to see the huge brute rend a young lamb. when the remains of this introductory morsel had been removed and the pavement washed, he gave the "sword of persia" pieces of raw flesh, teasing the beast by snatching the daintiest bits out of his mouth, and then offering them to him again, till the satiated brute stretched himself yawning at his feet. during this entertainment, he had a letter read to him from the senate, and dictated a reply to a secretary. his eyes twinkled with a tipsy leer in his flushed face, and yet he was perfectly competent; and his instructions to the senate, though imperious indeed, were neither more nor less rational than in his soberest moods. then, after washing his hands in a golden basin, he acted on macrinus's suggestion, and the two candidates who had so long been waiting were at last admitted. the prefect of the praetorians had, by the magian's desire, recommended the egyptian; but caesar wished to see for himself, and then to decide. both the applicants had received hints from their supporters: the egyptian, to moderate his rigor; the greek, to express himself in the severest terms. and this was made easy for him, for the annoyance which had been pent up during his three hours' waiting was sufficient to lend his handsome face a stern look. zminis strove to appear mild by assuming servile humility; but this so ill became his cunning features that caracalla saw with secret satisfaction that he could accede to melissa's wishes, and confirm the choice of the highpriest, in whose god he had placed his hopes. still, his own safety was more precious to him than the wishes of any living mortal; so he began by pouring out, on both, the vials of his wrath at the bad management of the town. their blundering tools had not even succeeded in capturing the most guileless of men, the painter alexander. the report that the men-at-arms had seized him had been a fabrication to deceive, for the artist had given himself up. nor had he as yet heard of any other traitor whom they had succeeded in laying hands on, though the town was flooded with insolent epigrams directed against the imperial person. and, as he spoke, he glared with fury at the two candidates before him. the greek bowed his head in silence, as if conscious of his shortcomings; the egyptian's eyes flashed, and, with an amazingly low bend of his supple spine, he announced that, more than three hours since, he had discovered a most abominable caricature in clay, representing caesar as a soldier in a horrible pygmy form. "and the perpetrator," snarled caracalla, listening with a scowl for the reply. zminis explained that great caesar himself had commanded his attendance just as he hoped to find the traces of the criminal, and that, while he was waiting, more than three precious hours had been lost. at this caracalla broke out in a fury: "catch the villain! and let me see his insolent rubbish. where are your eyes? you bungling louts ought to protect me against the foul brood that peoples this city, and their venomous jests. past grievances are forgotten. set the painter's father and brother at liberty. they have had a warning. now i want something new. something new, i say; and, above all, let me see the ringleaders in chains; the man who nailed up the rope, and the caricaturists. we must have them, to serve as an example to the others." aristides thought that the moment had now come for displaying his severity, and he respectfully but decidedly represented to caesar that he would advise that the gem-cutter and his son should be kept in custody. they were well-known persons, and too great clemency would only aggravate the virulence of audacious tongues. the painter was free, and if his relatives were also let out of prison, there was nothing to prevent their going off to the other end of the world. alexandria was a seaport, and a ship would carry off the criminals before a man could turn round. at this the emperor wrathfully asked him whether his opinion had been invited; and the cunning egyptian said to himself that caracalla was anxious to spare the father and his sons for the daughter's sake. and yet caesar would surely wish to keep them in safety, to have some hold over the girl; so he lied with a bold face, affirming that, in obedience to the law of the land, he had removed heron and philip, at any rate for the moment, beyond the reach of caesar's mercy. they had in the course of the night been placed on board a galley and were now on the way to sardinia. but a swift vessel should presently be sent to overtake it and bring them back. and the informer was right, for caesar's countenance brightened. he did, indeed, blame the egyptian's overhasty action; but he gave no orders for following up the galley. then, after reflecting for a short time, he said: "i do not find in either of you what i require; but at a pinch we are fain to eat moldy bread, so i must need choose between you two. the one who first brings me that clay figure, and the man who modeled it, in chains and bonds, shall be appointed chief of the night-watch." meanwhile alexander had entered the room. as soon as caracalla saw him, he beckoned to him, and the artist informed him that he had made good use of his time and had much to communicate. then he humbly inquired as to the clay figure of which caesar was speaking, and caracalla referred him to zminis. the egyptian repeated what the magian had told him. alexander listened calmly; but when zminis ceased speaking, the artist took a deep breath, drew himself up, and pointing a contemptuous finger at the spy, as if his presence poisoned the air, he said: "it is that fellow's fault, great caesar, if the citizens of my native town dare commit such crimes. he torments and persecutes them in your name. how many a felony has been committed here, merely to scoff at him and his creatures, and to keep them on the alert! we are a light-headed race. like children, we love to do the forbidden thing, so long as it is no stain on our honor. but that wretch treats all laughter and the most innocent fun as a crime, or so interprets it that it seems so. from this malignant delight in the woes of others, and in the hope of rising higher in office, that wicked man has brought misery on hundreds. it has all been done in thy great name, o caesar! no man has raised you up more foes than this wretch, who undermines your security instead of protecting it." here zminis, whose swarthy face had become of ashy paleness, broke out in a hoarse tone: "i will teach you, and the whole rabble of traitors at your back--" but caesar wrathfully commanded him to be silent, and alexander quietly went on: "you can threaten, and you will array all your slanderous arts against us, i know you. but here sits a sovereign who protects the innocent--and i and mine are innocent. he will set his heel on your head when he knows you--the curse of this city--for the adder that you are! he is deceiving you now in small things, great caesar, and later he will deceive you in greater ones. listen now how he has lied to you. he says he discovered a caricature of your illustrious person in the guise of a soldier. why, then, did he not bring it away from the place where it could only excite disaffection, and might even mislead those who should see it into the belief that your noble person was that of a dwarf? the answer is self-evident. he left it to betray others into further mockery, to bring them to ruin." caesar had listened with approval, and now sternly asked the egyptian: "did you see the image?" "in the elephant tavern!" yelled the man. but alexander shook his head doubtfully, and begged permission to ask the egyptian a question. this was granted, and the artist inquired whether the soldier stood alone. "so far as i remember, yes," replied zminis, almost beside himself. "then your memory is as false as your soul!" alexander shouted in his face, "for there was another figure by the soldier's side. the clay, still wet, clung to the same board as the figure of the soldier, modeled by the same hand. no, no, my crafty fellow, you will not catch the workman; for, being warned, he is already on the high-seas." "it is false!" shrieked zminis. "that remains to be proved," said alexander, scornfully.--"allow me now, great caesar, to show you the figures. they have been brought by my orders, and are in the anteroom-carefully covered up, of course, for the fewer the persons who see them the better." caracalla nodded his consent, and alexander hurried away; the despot heaping abuse on zminis, and demanding why he had not at once had the images removed. the egyptian now confessed that he had only heard of the caricature from a friend, and declared that if he had seen it he should have destroyed it on the spot. macrinus here tried to excuse the spy, by remarking that this zealous official had only tried to set his services in a favorable light. the falsehood could not be approved, but was excusable. but he had scarcely finished speaking, when his opponent, the praetor, lucius priscillianus, observed, with a gravity he but rarely displayed: "i should have thought that it was the first duty of the man who ought to be caesar's mainstay and representative here, to let his sovereign hear nothing but the undistorted truth. nothing, it seems to me, can be less excusable than a lie told to divine caesar's face!" a few courtiers, who were out of the prefect's favor, as well as the high-priest of serapis, agreed with the speaker. caracalla, however, paid no heed to them, but sat with his eyes fixed on the door, deeply wounded in his vanity by the mere existence of such a caricature. he had not long to wait. but when the wrapper was taken off the clay figures, he uttered a low snarl, and his flushed face turned pale. sounds of indignation broke from the bystanders; the blood rose to his cheeks again, and, shaking his fist, he muttered unintelligible threats, while his eyes wandered again and again to the caricatures. they attracted his attention more than all else, and as in an april day the sky is alternately dark and bright, so red and white alternated in his face. then, while alexander replied to a few questions, and assured him that the host of the "elephant" had been very angry, and had gladly handed them over to him to be destroyed, caracalla seemed to become accustomed to them, for he gazed at them more calmly, and tried to affect indifference. he inquired of philostratus, as though he wished to be informed, whether he did not think that the artist who had modeled these figures must be a very clever follow; and when the philosopher assented conditionally, he declared that he saw some resemblance to himself--in the features of the apple-dealer. and then he pointed to his own straight legs, only slightly disfigured by an injury to the ankle, to show how shamefully unfair it was to compare them with the lower limbs of a misshapen dwarf. finally, the figure of the apple-dealer--a hideous pygmy form, with the head of an old man, like enough to his own--roused his curiosity. what was the point of this image? what peculiarity was it intended to satirize? the basket which hung about the neck of the figure was full of fruit, and the object he held in his hand might be an apple, or might be anything else. with eager and constrained cheerfulness, he inquired the opinion of his "friends," treating as sheer flattery a suggestion from his favorite, theocritus, that this was not an apple-dealer, but a human figure, who, though but a dwarf in comparison with the gods, nevertheless endowed the world with the gifts of the immortals. alexander and philostratus could offer no explanation; but when the proconsul, julius paulinus, observed that the figure was offering the apples for money, as caesar offered the roman citizenship to the provincials, he knew for what, caracalla nodded agreement. he then provisionally appointed aristides to the coveted office. the egyptian should be informed as to his fate. when the prefect was about to remove the figures, caesar hastily forbade it, and ordered the bystanders to withdraw. alexander alone was commanded to remain. as soon as they were together, caesar sprang up and vehemently demanded to know what news he had brought. but the young man hesitated to begin his report. caracalla, of his own accord, pledged his word once more to keep his oath, and then alexander assured him that he knew no more than caesar who were the authors of the epigrams which he had picked up here and there; and, though the satire they contained was venomous in some cases, still he, the sovereign of the world, stood so high that he could laugh them to scorn, as socrates had laughed when aristophanes placed him on the stage. caesar declared that he scorned these flies, but that their buzzing annoyed him. alexander rejoiced at this, and only expressed his regret that most of the epigrams he had collected turned on the death of caesar's brother geta. he knew now that it was rash to condemn a deed which-here caesar interrupted him, for he could not long remain quiet, saying sternly: "the deed was needful, not for me, but for the empire, which is dearer to me than father, mother, or a hundred brothers, and a thousand times dearer than men's opinions. let me hear in what form the witty natives of this city express their disapproval." this sounded so dignified and gracious that alexander ventured to repeat a distich which he had heard at the public baths, whither he had first directed his steps. it did not, however, refer to the murder of geta, but to the mantle-like garment to which caesar owed the nickname of caracalla. it ran thus: "why should my lord caracalla affect a garment so ample? 'tis that the deeds are many of evil he needs to conceal." at this caesar laughed, saying: "who is there that has nothing to conceal? the lines are not amiss. hand me your tablets; if the others are no worse--" "but they are," alexander exclaimed, anxiously, and i only regret that i should be the instrument of your tormenting yourself--" "tormenting?" echoed caesar, disdainfully. "the verses amuse me, and i find them most edifying. that is all. hand me the tablets." the command was so positive, that alexander drew out the little diptych, with the remark that painters wrote badly, and that what he had noted down was only intended to aid his memory. the idea that caesar should hear a few home-truths through him had struck him as pleasant, but now the greatness of the risk was clear to him. he glanced at the scrawled characters, and it occurred to him that he had intended to change the word dwarf in one line to caesar, and to keep the third and most trenchant epigram from the emperor. the fourth and last was very innocent, and he had meant to read it last, to mollify him. so he did not wish to show the tablets. but, as he was about to take them back, caracalla snatched them from his hand and read with some difficulty: "fraternal love was once esteemed a virtue even in the great, and philadelphos then was deemed a name to grace a potentate. but now the dwarf upon the throne, by murder of his mother's son, as misadelphos must be known." "indeed!" murmured caesar, with a pale face, and then he went on in a low, sullen tone: "always the same story--my brother, and my small stature. in this town they follow the example of the barbarians, it would seem, who choose the tallest and broadest of their race to be king. if the third epigram has nothing else in it, the shallow wit of your fellow-citizens is simply tedious.--now, what have we next? trochaics! hardly anything new, i fear!--there is the water-jar. i will drink; fill the cup." but alexander did not immediately obey the command so hastily given; assuring caesar that he could not possibly read the writing, he was about to take up the tablets. but caesar laid his hand on them, and said, imperiously: "drink! give me the cup." he fixed his eyes on the wax, and with difficulty deciphered the clumsy scrawl in which alexander had noted down the following lines, which he had heard at the "elephant" "since on earth our days are numbered, ask me not what deeds of horror stain the hands of fell tarautas. ask me of his noble actions, and with one short word i answer, 'none!'-replying to your question with no waste of precious hours." alexander meanwhile had done caracalla's bidding, and when he had replaced the jar on its stand and returned to caesar, he was horrified; for the emperor's head and arms were shaking and struggling to and fro, and at his feet lay the two halves of the wax tablets which he had torn apart when the convulsion came on. he foamed at the mouth, with low moans, and, before alexander could prevent him, racked with pain and seeking for some support, he had set his teeth in the arm of the seat off which he was slipping. greatly shocked, and full of sincere pity, alexander tried to raise him; but the lion, who perhaps suspected the artist of having been the cause of this sudden attack, rose on his feet with a roar, and the young man would have had no chance of his life if the beast had not happily been chained down after his meal. with much presence of mind, alexander sprang behind the chair and dragged it, with the unconscious man who served him as a shield, away from the angry brute. galen had urged caesar to avoid excess in wine and violent emotions, and the wisdom of the warning was sufficiently proved by the attack which had seized him with such fearful violence, just when caracalla had neglected it in both particulars. alexander had to exert all the strength of his muscles, practised in the wrestling-school, to hold the sufferer on his seat, for his strength, which was not small, was doubled by the demons of epilepsy. in an instant the whole court had rushed to the spot on hearing the lion's roar of rage, which grew louder and louder, and could be heard at no small distance, and then alexander's shout for help. but the private physician and epagathos, the chamberlain, would allow no one to enter the room; only old adventus, who was half blind, was permitted to assist them in succoring the sufferer. he had been raised by caracalla from the humble office of letter-carrier to the highest dignities and the office of his private chamberlain; but the leech availed himself by preference of the assistance of this experienced and quiet man, and between them they soon brought caesar to his senses. caesar then lay pale and exhausted on a couch which had hastily been arranged, his eyes fixed on vacancy, scarcely able to move a finger. alexander held his trembling hand, and when the physician, a stout man of middle age, took the artist's place and bade him retire, caracalla, in a low voice, desired him to remain. as soon as caesar's suspended faculties were fully awake again, he turned to the cause of his attack. with a look of pain and entreaty he desired alexander to give him the tablets once more; but the artist assured him-and caracalla seemed not sorry to believe--that he had crushed the wax in his convulsion. the sick man himself no doubt felt that such food was too strong for him. after he had remained staring at nothing in silence for some time, he began again to speak of the gibes of the alexandrians. surrounded as he was by servile favorites, whose superior he was in gifts and intellect, what had here come under his notice seemed to interest him above measure. he desired to know where and from whom the painter had got these epigrams. but again alexander declared that he did not know the names of the authors; that he had found one at the public baths, the second in a tavern, and the third at a hairdresser's shop. caesar looked sadly at the youth's abundant brown curls which had been freshly oiled, and said: "hair is like the other good gifts of life. it remains fine only with the healthy. you, happy rascal, hardly know what sickness means!" then again he sat staring in silence, till he suddenly started up and asked alexander, as philostratus had yesterday asked melissa: "do you and your sister belong to the christians?" when he vehemently denied it, caracalla went on: "and yet these epigrams show plainly enough how the alexandrians feel toward me. melissa, too, is a daughter of this town, and when i remember that she could bring herself to pray for me, then--my nurse, who was the best of women, was a christian. i learned from her the doctrine of loving our enemies and praying for those who despitefully treat us. i always regarded it as impossible; but now--your sister--what i was saying just now about the hair and good health reminds me of another speech of the crucified one which my nurse often repeated--how long ago!--'to him that hath shall be given, and from him that hath not shall be taken even that which he hath.' how cruel and yet how wise, how terribly striking and true! a healthy man! what more can he want, and what abundant gifts that best of all gifts will gain for him! if he is visited by infirmity--only look at me!--how much misery i have suffered from this curse, terrible enough in itself, and tainting everything with the bitterness of wormwood!" he laughed softly but scornfully, and continued: "but i! i am the sovereign of the universe. i have so much--oh yes, so much!--and for that reason more shall be given to me, and my wildest wishes shall be satisfied!" "yes, my liege!" interrupted alexander, eagerly. "after pain comes pleasure! 'live, love, drink, and rejoice, and wreath thyself with me!' sings sappho, and it is not a bad plan to follow anakreon's advice, even at the present day. think of the short suffering which now and then embitters for you the sweet cup of life, as being the ring of polykrates, with which you appease the envy of the gods who have given you so much. in your place, eternal gods! how i would enjoy the happy hours of health, and show the immortals and mortals alike how much true and real pleasure power and riches can procure!" the emperor's weary eyes brightened, and with the cry-"so will i! i am still young, and i have the power!" he started suddenly to his feet. but he sank back again directly on the couch, shaking his head as if to say, "there, you see what a state i am in!" the fate of this unhappy man touched alexander's heart even more deeply than before. his youthful mind, which easily received fresh impressions, forgot the deeds of blood and shame which stained the soul of this pitiable wretch. his artistic mind was accustomed to apprehend what he saw with his whole soul and without secondary considerations, as if it stood there to be painted; and the man that lay before him was to him at that moment only a victim whom a cruel fate had defrauded of the greatest pleasures in life. he also remembered how shamelessly he and others had mocked at caesar. perhaps caracalla had really spilled most of the blood to serve the welfare and unity of the empire. he, alexander, was not his judge. if glaukias had seen the object of his derision lying thus, it certainly would never have occurred to him to represent him as a pygmy monster. no, no! alexander's artistic eye knew the difference well between the beautiful and the ugly--and the exhausted man lying on the divan, was no hideous dwarf. a dreamy languor spread over his nobly chiselled features an expression of pain but rarely passed over them, and caesar's whole appearance reminded the painter of the fine ephesian gladiator hallistos as he lay on the sand, severely wounded after his last fight, awaiting the death-stroke. he would have liked to hasten home and fetch his materials to paint the likeness of the misjudged man, and to show it to the scoffers. he stood silent, absorbed in studying the quiet face so finely formed by nature and so pathetic to look at. no thoroughly depraved miscreant could look like that. yet it was like a peaceful sea: when the hurricane should break loose, what a boiling whirl of gray, hissing, tossing, foaming waves would disfigure the peaceful, smooth, glittering surface! and suddenly the emperor's features began to show signs of animation. his eye, but now so dull, shone more brightly, and he cried out, as if the long silence had scarcely broken the thread of his ideas, but in a still husky voice: "i should like to get up and go with you, but i am still too weak. do you go now, my friend, and bring me back fresh news." alexander then begged him to consider how dangerous every excitement would be for him; yet caracalla exclaimed, eagerly: "it will strengthen me and dome good! everything that surrounds me is so hollow, so insipid, so contemptible--what i hear is so small. a strong, highly spiced word, even if it is sharp, refreshes me--when you have finished a picture, do you like to hear nothing but how well your friends can flatter?" the artist thought he understood caesar. true to his nature, always hoping for the best, he thought that, as the severe judgment of the envious had often done him (alexander) good, so the sharp satire of the alexandrians would lead caracalla to introspection and greater moderation; he only resolved to tell the sufferer nothing further that was merely insulting. when he bade him farewell, caracalla glanced up at him with such a look of pain that the artist longed to give him his hand, and speak to him with real affection. the tormenting headache which followed each convulsion had again come on, and caesar submitted without resistance to what the physician prescribed. alexander asked old adventus at the door if he did not think that the terrible attack had been brought on by annoyance at the alexandrians' satire, and if it would not be advisable in the future not to allow such things to reach the emperor's ear; but the man, looking at him in surprise with his half-blind eyes, replied with a brutal want of sympathy that disgusted the youth: "drinking brought on the attack. what makes him ill are stronger things than words. if you yourself, young man, do not suffer for alexandrian wit, it will certainly not hurt caesar!" alexander turned his back indignantly on the chamberlain, and he became so absorbed in wondering how it was possible that the emperor, who was cultivated and appreciated what was beautiful, could have dragged out of the dust and kept near him two such miserable 'creatures as theocritus and this old man, that philostratus, who met him in the next room, had almost to shout at him. philostratus informed him that melissa was staying with the chief priest's wife; but just as he was about to inquire curiously what had passed between the audacious painter and caesar--for even philostratus was a courtier--he was called away to caracalla. chapter xix. in one of the few rooms of his vast palace which the chief priest had reserved for the accommodation of the members of his own household, the youth was received by melissa, timotheus's wife euryale, and the lady berenike. this lady was pleased to see the artist again to whom she was indebted for the portrait of her daughter. she had it now in her possession once more, for philostratus had had it taken back to her house while the emperor was at his meal. she rested on a sofa, quite worn out. she had passed through hours of torment; for her concern about melissa, who had become very dear to her, had given her much more anxiety than even the loss of her beloved picture. besides, the young girl was to her for the moment the representative of her sex, and the danger of seeing this pure, sweet creature exposed to the will of a licentious tyrant drove her out of her senses, and her lively fancy had resulted in violent outbreaks of indignation. she now proposed all sorts of schemes, of which euryale, the more prudent but not less warm-hearted wife of the chief priest, demonstrated the impossibility. like berenike, a tender-hearted woman, whose smooth, brown hair had already begun to turn gray, she had also lost her only child. but years had passed since then, and she had accustomed herself to seek comfort in the care of the sick and wretched. she was regarded all over the city as the providence of all in need, whatever their condition and faith. where charity was to be bestowed on a large scale--if hospitals or almshouses were to be erected or endowed--she was appealed to first, and if she promised her quiet but valuable assistance, the result was at once secured. for, besides her own and her husband's great riches, this lady of high position, who was honored by all, had the purses of all the heathens and christians in the city at her disposal; both alike considered that she belonged to them; and the latter, although she only held with them in secret, had the better right. at home, the society of distinguished men afforded her the greatest pleasure. her husband allowed her complete freedom; although he, as the chief greek priest of the city, would have preferred that she should not also have had among her most constant visitors so many learned christians. but the god whom he served united in his own person most of the others; and the mysteries which he superintended taught that even serapis was only a symbolical embodiment of the universal soul, fulfilling its eternal existence by perpetually re-creating itself under constant and immutable laws. a portion of that soul, which dwelt in all created things, had its abode in each human being, to return to the divine source after death. timotheus firmly clung to this pantheist creed; still, he held the honorable post of head of the museum--in the place of the roman priest of alexander, a man of less learning--and was familiar not only with the tenets of his heathen predecessors, but with the sacred scriptures of the jews and christians; and in the ethics of these last he found much which met his views. he, who, at the museum, was counted among the skeptics, liked biblical sentences, such as "all is vanity," and "we know but in part." the command to love your neighbor, to seek peace, to thirst after truth, the injunction to judge the tree by its fruit, and to fear more for the soul than the body, were quite to his mind. he was so rich that the gifts of the visitors to the temple, which his predecessors had insisted on, were of no importance to him. thus he mingled a great deal that was christian with the faith of which he was chief minister and guardian. only the conviction with which men like clemens and origen, who were friends of his wife, declared that the doctrine to which they adhered was the only right one--was, in fact, the truth itself--seemed to the skeptic "foolishness." his wife's friends had converted his brother zeno to christianity; but he had no need to fear lest euryale should follow them. she loved him too much, and was too quiet and sensible, to be baptized, and thus expose him, the heathen high-priest, to the danger of being deprived of the power which she knew to be necessary to his happiness. every alexandrian was free to belong to any other than the heathen creeds, and no one had taken offence at his skeptical writings. when euryale acted like the best of the christian women, he could not take it amiss; and he would have scorned to blame her preference for the teaching of the crucified god. as to caesar's character he had not yet made up his mind. he had expected to find him a half-crazy villain, and his rage after he had heard the epigram against himself, left with the rope, had strengthened the chief priest's opinion. but since then he had heard of much that was good in him; and timotheus felt sure that his judgment was unbiased by the high esteem caesar showed to him, while he treated others like slaves. his improved opinion had been raised by the intercourse he had held with caesar. the much-abused man had on these occasions shown that he was not only well educated but also thoughtful; and yesterday evening, before caracalla had gone to rest exhausted, the high-priest, with his wise experience, had received exactly the same impressions as the easily influenced artist; for caesar had bewailed his sad fate in pathetic terms, and confessed himself indeed deeply guilty, but declared that he had intended to act for the best, had sacrificed fortune, peace of mind, and comfort to the welfare of the state. his keen eye had marked the evils of the time, and he had acknowledged that his efforts to extirpate the old maladies in order to make room for better things had been a failure, and that, instead of earning thanks, he had drawn down on himself the hatred of millions. it was for this reason that timotheus, on rejoining his household, had assured them that, as he thought over this interview, he expected something good--yes, perhaps the best--from the young criminal in the purple. but the lady berenike had declared with scornful decision that caracalla had deceived her brother-in-law; and when alexander likewise tried to say a word for the sufferer, she got into a rage and accused him of foolish credulity. melissa, who had already spoken in favor of the emperor, agreed, in spite of the matron, with her brother. yes, caracalla had sinned greatly, and his conviction that alexander's soul lived in him and roxana's in her was foolish enough; but the marvelous likeness to her of the portrait on the gem would astonish any one. that good and noble impulses stirred his soul she was certain. but berenike only shrugged her shoulders contemptuously; and when the chief priest remarked that yesterday evening caracalla had in fact not been in a position to attend a feast, and that a portion, at least, of his other offenses might certainly be put down to the charge of his severe suffering, the lady exclaimed: "and is it also his bodily condition that causes him to fill a house of mourning with festive uproar? i am indifferent as to what makes him a malefactor. for my part, i would sooner abandon this dear child to the care of a criminal than to that of a madman." but the chief priest and the brother and sister both declared caesar's mind to be as sound and sharp as any one's; and timotheus asked who, at the present time, was without superstition, and the desire of communicating with departed souls. still the matron would not allow herself to be persuaded, and after the chief priest had been called away to the service of the god, euryale reproved her sister-in-law for her too great zeal. when the wisdom of hoary old age and impetuous youth agree in one opinion, it is commonly the right one. "and i maintain," cried berenike--and her large eyes flamed angrily--" it is criminal to ignore my advice. fate has robbed you as well as me of a dear child. i will not also lose this one, who is as precious to me as a daughter." melissa bent over the lady's hands and kissed them gratefully, exclaiming with tearful eyes, "but he has been very good to me, and has assured me-" "assured!" repeated berenike disdainfully. she then drew the young girl impetuously toward her, kissed her on her forehead, placed her hands on her head as if to protect her, and turned to the artist as she continued: "i stand by what i recommended before. this very night melissa must get far away from here. you, alexander, must accompany her. my own ship, the 'berenike and korinna'--seleukus gave it to me and my daughter--is ready to start. my sister lives in carthage. her husband, the first man in the city, is my friend. you will find protection and shelter in their house." "and how about our father and philip?" interrupted alexander. "if we follow your advice, it is certain death to them!" the matron laughed scornfully. "and that is what you expect from this good, this great and noble sovereign!" "he proves himself full of favors to his friends," answered alexander, "but woe betide those who offend him!" berenike looked thoughtfully at the ground, and added, more quietly: "then try first to release your people, and afterward embark on my ship. it shall be ready for you. melissa will use it, i know.--my veil, child! the chariot waits for me at the temple of isis.--you will accompany me there, alexander, and we will drive to the harbor. there i will introduce you to the captain. it will be wise. your father and brother are dearer to you than your sister; she is more important to me. if only i could go away myself--away from here, from the desolate house, and take her with me!" and she raised her arm, as if she would throw a stone into the distance. she impetuously embraced the young girl, took leave of her sister-in-law, and left the room with alexander. directly euryale was alone with melissa, she comforted the girl in her kind, composed manner; for the unhappy matron's gloomy presentiments had filled melissa with fresh anxieties. and what had she not gone through during the day! soon after her perilous interview with caracalla, timotheus, with the chief of the astrologers from the serapeum, and the emperor's astronomer, had come to her, to ask her on what day and at what hour she was born. they also inquired concerning the birthdays of her parents, and other events of her life. timotheus had informed her that the emperor had ordered them to cast her nativity. soon after dinner she had gone, accompanied by the lady berenike, who had found her at the chief priest's house, to visit her lover in the sickrooms of the serapeum. thankful and happy, she had found him with fully recovered consciousness, but the physician and the freedman andreas, whom she met at the door of the chamber, had impressed on her the importance of avoiding all excitement. so it had not been possible for her to tell him what had happened to her people, or of the perilous step she had taken in order to save them. but diodoros had talked of their wedding, and andreas could confirm the fact that polybius wished to see it celebrated as soon as possible. several pleasant subjects were discussed; but between whiles melissa had to dissemble and give evasive answers to diodoros's questions as to whether she had already arranged with her brother and friends who should be the youths and maidens to form the wedding procession, and sing the hymeneal song. as the two whispered to one another and looked tenderly at each other-for diodoros had insisted on her allowing him to kiss not only her hands but also her sweet red lips--berenike had pictured her dead daughter in melissa's place. what a couple they would have been! how proudly and gladly she would have led them to the lovely villa at kanopus, which her husband and she had rebuilt and decorated with the idea that some day korinna, her husband, and--if the gods should grant it--their children, might inhabit it! but even melissa and diodoros made a fine couple, and she tried with all her heart not to grudge her all the happiness that she had wished for her own child. when it was time to depart, she joined the hands of the betrothed pair, and called down a blessing from the gods. diodoros accepted this gratefully. he only knew that this majestic lady had made melissa's acquaintance through alexander, and had won her affection, and he encouraged the impression that this woman, whose juno-like beauty haunted him, had visited him on his bed of sickness in the place of his long-lost mother. outside the sick-room andreas again met melissa, and, after she had told him of her visit to the emperor, he impressed on her eagerly on no account to obey the tyrant's call again. then he had promised to hide her securely, either on zeno's estate or else in the house of another friend, which was difficult of access. when dame berenike had again, and with particular eagerness, suggested her ship, andreas had exclaimed: "in the garden, on the ship, under the earth--only not back to caesar!" the last question of the freedman's, as to whether she had meditated further on his discourse, had reminded her of the sentence, "the fullness of the time is come"; and afterward the thought occurred to her, again and again, that in the course of the next few hours some decisive event would happen to her, "fulfilling the time," as andreas expressed it. when, therefore, somewhat later, she was alone with the chief priest's wife, who had concluded her comforting, pious exhortations, melissa asked the lady euryale whether she had ever heard the sentence, "when the fullness of the time is come." at this the lady cried, gazing at the girl with surprised inquiry: "are you, then, after all, connected with the christians?" "certainly not," answered the young girl, firmly. "i heard it accidentally, and andreas, polybius's freedman, explained it to me." "a good interpreter," replied the elder lady. "i am only an ignorant woman; yet, child, even i have experienced that a day, an hour, comes to every man in the course of his life in which he afterward sees that the time was fulfilled. as the drops become mingled with the stream, so at that moment the things we have done and thought unite to carry us on a new current, either to salvation or perdition. any moment may bring the crisis; for that reason the christians are right when they call on one another to watch. you also must keep your eyes open. when the time--who knows how soon?--is fulfilled for you, it will determine the good or evil of your whole life." "an inward voice tells me that also," answered melissa, pressing her hands on her panting bosom. "just feel how my heart beats!" euryale, smiling, complied with this wish, and as she did so she shuddered. how pure and lovable was this young creature; and melissa looked to her like a lamb that stood ready to hasten trustfully to meet the wolf! at last she led her guest into the room where supper was prepared. the master of the house would not be able to share it, and while the two women sat opposite one another, saying little, and scarcely touching either food or drink, philostratus was announced. he came as messenger from caracalla, who wished to speak to melissa. "at this hour? never, never! it is impossible!" exclaimed euryale, who was usually so calm; but philostratus declared, nevertheless, that denial was useless. the emperor was suffering particularly severely, and begged to remind melissa of her promise to serve him gladly if he required her. her presence, he assured euryale, would do the sick man good, and he guaranteed that, so long as caesar was tormented by this unbearable pain, the young woman had nothing to fear. melissa, who had risen from her seat when the philosopher had entered, exclaimed: "i am not afraid, and will go with you gladly--" "quite right, child," answered philostratus, affectionately. euryale, however, found it difficult to keep back her tears while she stroked the girl's hair and arranged the folds of her garment. when at last she said good-by to melissa and was embracing her, she was reminded of the farewell she had taken, many years ago, of a christian friend before she was led away by the lictors to martyrdom in the circus. finally, she whispered something in the philosopher's ear, and received from him the promise to return with melissa as soon as possible. philostratus was, in fact, quite easy. just before, caracalla's helpless glance had met his sympathizing gaze, and the suffering caesar had said nothing to him but: "o philostratus, i am in such pain!" and these words still rang in the ears of this warm-hearted man. while he was endeavoring to comfort the emperor, caesar's eyes had fallen on the gem, and he asked to see it. he gazed at it attentively for some time, and when he returned it to the philosopher he had ordered him to fetch the prototype of roxana. closely enveloped in the veil which euryale had placed on her head, melissa passed from room to room, keeping near to the philosopher. wherever she appeared she heard murmuring and whispering that troubled her, and tittering followed her from several of the rooms as she left them; even from the large hall where the emperor's friends awaited his orders in numbers, she heard a loud laugh that frightened and annoyed her. she no longer felt as unconstrained as she had been that morning when she had come before caesar. she knew that she would have to be on her guard; that anything, even the worst, might be expected from him. but as philostratus described to her, on the way, how terribly the unfortunate man suffered, her tender heart was again drawn to him, to whom--as she now felt--she was bound by an indefinable tie. she, if any one, as she repeated to herself, was able to help him; and her desire to put the truth of this conviction to the proof--for she could only regard it as too amazing to be grounded in fact--was seconded by the less disinterested hope that, while attending on the sufferer, she might find an opportunity of effecting the release of her father and brother. philostratus went on to announce her arrival, and she, while waiting, tried to pray to the manes of her mother; but, before she could sufficiently collect her thoughts, the door opened. philostratus silently beckoned to her, and she stepped into the tablinum, which was but dimly lighted by a few lamps. caracalla was still resting here; for every movement increased the pain that tormented him. how quiet it was! she thought she could hear her own heart beating. philostratus remained standing by the door, but she went on tiptoe toward the couch, fearing her light footsteps might disturb the emperor. yet before she had reached the divan she stopped still, and then she heard the plaintive rattle in the sufferer's throat, and from the background of the room the easy breathing of the burly physician and of old adventus, both of whom had fallen asleep; and then a peculiar tapping. the lion beat the floor with his tail with pleasure at recognizing her. this noise attracted the invalid's attention, and when he opened his closed eyes and saw melissa, who was anxiously watching all his movements, he called to her lightly with his hand on his brow: "the animal has a good memory, and greets you in my name. you were sure to come--, i knew it!" the young girl stepped nearer to him, and answered, kindly, "since you needed me, i gladly followed philostratus." "because i needed you?" asked the emperor. "yes," she replied, "because you require nursing." "then, to keep you, i shall wish to be ill often," he answered, quickly; but he added, sadly, "only not so dreadfully ill as i have been to-day." one could hear how laborious talking was to him, and the few words he had sought and found, in order to say something kind to melissa, had so hurt his shattered nerves and head that he sank back, gasping, on the cushions. then for some time all was quiet, until caracalla took his hand from his forehead and continued, as if in excuse: "no one seems to know what it is. and if i talk ever so softly, every word vibrates through my brain." "then you must not speak," interrupted melissa, eagerly. "if you want anything, only make signs. i shall understand you without words, and the quieter it is here the better." "no, no; you must speak," begged the invalid. "when the others talk, they make the beating in my head ten times worse, and excite me; but i like to hear your voice." "the beating?" interrupted melissa, in whom this word awoke old memories. "perhaps you feel as if a hammer was hitting you over the left eye? "if you move rapidly, does it not pierce your skull, and do you not feel as sick as if you were on the rocking sea?" "then you also know this torment?" asked caracalla, surprised; but she answered, quietly, that her mother had suffered several times from similar headaches, and had described them to her. caesar sank back again on the pillows, moved his dry lips, and glanced toward the drink which galen had prescribed for him; and melissa, who almost as a child had long nursed a dear invalid, guessed what he wanted, brought him the goblet, and gave him a draught. caracalla rewarded her with a grateful look. but the physic only seemed to increase the pain. he lay there panting and motionless, until, trying to find a new position, he groaned, lightly: "it is as if iron was being hammered here. one would think others might hear it." at the same time he seized the girl's hand and placed it on his burning brow. melissa felt the pulse in the sufferer's temple throbbing hard and short against her fingers, as she had her mother's when she laid her cool hand on her aching forehead; and then, moved by the wish to comfort and heal, she let her right hand rest over the sick man's eyes. as soon as she felt one hand was hot, she put the other in its place; and it must have relieved the patient, for his moans ceased by degrees, and he finally said, gratefully: "what good that does me! you are--i knew you would help me. it is already quite quiet in my brain. once more your hand, dear girl!" melissa willingly obeyed him, and as he breathed more and more easily, she remembered that her mother's headache had often been relieved when she had placed her hand on her forehead. caesar, now opening his eyes wide, and looking her full in the face, asked why she had not allowed him sooner to reap the benefit of this remedy. melissa slowly withdrew her hand, and with drooping eyes answered gently: "you are the emperor, a man. . . and i. . . . but caracalla interrupted her eagerly, and with a clear voice: "not so, melissa! do not you feel, like me, that something else draws us to one another, like what binds a man to his wife?-there lies the gem. look at it once again--no, child, no! this resemblance is not mere accident. the short-sighted, might call it superstition or a vain illusion; i know better. at least a portion of alexander's soul lives in this breast. a hundred signs--i will tell you about it later--make it a certainty to me. and yesterday morning. . . . i see it all again before me. . . . you stood above me, on the left, at a window. . . i looked up; . . our eyes met, and i felt in the depths of my heart a strange emotion. . . . i asked myself, silently, where i had seen that lovely face before. and the answer rang, you have already often met her; you know her!" "my face reminded you of the gem," interrupted melissa, disquieted. "no, no," continued caesar. "it was some thing else. why had none of my many gems ever reminded me before of living people? why did your picture, i know not how often, recur to my mind? and you? only recollect what you have done for me. how marvelously we were brought together! and all this in the course of a single, short day. and you also. . . . i ask you, by all that is holy to you. . . did you, after you saw me in the court of sacrifice, not think of me so often and so vividly that it astonished you?" "you are caesar," answered melissa, with increasing anxiety. "so you thought of my purple robes?" asked caracalla, and his face clouded over; "or perhaps only of my power that might be fatal to your family? i will know. speak the truth, girl, by the head of your father!" then melissa poured forth this confession from her oppressed heart: "yes, i could not help remembering you constantly, . . . and i never saw you in purple, but just as you had stood there on the steps; . . . and then--ah! i have told you already how sorry i was for your sufferings. i felt as if . . . but how can i describe it truly?-as if you stood much nearer to me than the ruler of the world could to a poor, humble girl. it was . . . eternal gods! . . ." she stopped short; for she suddenly recollected anxiously that this confession might prove fatal to her. the sentence about the time which should be fulfilled for each was ringing in her ears, and it seemed to her that she heard for the second time the lady berenike's warning. but caracalla allowed her no time to think; for he interrupted her, greatly pleased, with the cry: "it is true, then! the immortals have wrought as great a miracle in you as in me. we both owe them thanks, and i will show them how grateful i can be by rich sacrifices. our souls, which destiny had already once united, have met again. that portion of the universal soul which of yore dwelt in roxana, and now in you, melissa, has also vanquished the pain which has embittered my life. . . you have proved it!--and now . . . it is beginning to throb again more violently--now--beloved and restored one, help me once more!" melissa perceived anxiously how the emperor's face had flushed again during this last vehement speech, and at the same time the pain had again contracted his forehead and eyes. and she obeyed his command, but this time only in shy submission. when she found that he became quieter, and the movement of her hand once more did him good, she recovered her presence of mind. she remembered how often the quiet application of her hand had helped her mother to sleep. she therefore explained to caracalla, in a low whisper directly he began to speak again, that her desire to give him relief would be vain if he did not keep his eyes and lips closed. and caracalla yielded, while her hand moved as lightly over the brow of the terrible man as when years ago it had soothed her mother to sleep. when the sufferer, after a little time, murmured, with closed eyes "perhaps i could sleep," she felt as if great happiness had befallen her. she listened attentively to every breath, and looked as if spell-bound into his face, until she was quite sure that sleep had completely overcome caesar. she then crept gently on tiptoe to philostratus, who had looked on in silent surprise at all that had passed between his sovereign and the girl. he, who was always inclined to believe in any miraculous cure, of which so many had been wrought by his hero apollonius, thought he had actually witnessed one, and gazed with an admiration bordering on awe at the young creature who appeared to him to be a gracious instrument of the gods. "let me go now," melissa whispered to her friend. "he sleeps, and will not wake for some time." "at your command," answered the philosopher, respectfully. at the same moment a loud voice was heard from the next room, which melissa recognized as her brother alexander's, who impetuously insisted on his right of--being allowed at any time to see the emperor. "he will wake him," murmured the philosopher, anxiously; but melissa with prompt determination threw her veil over her head and went into the adjoining room. philostratus at first heard violent language issuing from the mouth of theocritus and the other courtiers, and the artist's answers were not less passionate. then he recognized melissa's voice; and when quiet suddenly reigned on that side of the door, the young girl again crossed the threshold. she glanced toward caracalla to see if he still slept, and then, with a sigh of relief, beckoned to her friend, and begged him in a whisper to escort her past the staring men. alexander followed them. anger and surprise were depicted on his countenance, which was usually so happy. he had come with a report which might very likely induce caesar to order the release of his father and brother, and his heart had stood still with fear and astonishment when the favorite theocritus had told him in the anteroom, in a way that made the blood rush into his face, that his sister had been for some time endeavoring to comfort the suffering emperor--and it was nearly midnight. quite beside himself, he wished to force his way into caesar's presence, but melissa had at that moment come out and stood in his way, and had desired him and the noble romans, in such a decided and commanding tone, to lower their voices, that they and her brother were speechless. what had happened to his modest sister during the last few days? melissa giving him orders which he feebly obeyed! it seemed impossible! but there was something reassuring in her manner. she must certainly have thought it right to act thus, and it must have been worthy of her, or she would not have carried her charming head so high, or looked him so freely and calmly in the face. but how had she dared to come between him and his duty to his father and brother? while he followed her closely and silently through the imperial rooms, the implicit obedience he had shown her became more and more difficult to comprehend; and when at last they stood in the empty corridor which divided caesar's quarters from those of the high-priest, and philostratus had returned to his post at the side of his sovereign, he could hold out no longer, and cried to her indignantly: "so far, i have followed you like a boy; i do not myself know why. but it is not yet too late to turn round; and i ask you, what gave you the right to prevent my doing my best for our people?" "your loud talking, that threatened to wake caesar," she replied, seriously. "his sleeping could alone save me from watching by him the whole night." alexander then felt sorry he had been so foolishly turbulent, and after melissa had told him in a few words what she had gone through in the last few hours he informed her of what had brought him to visit the emperor so late. johannes the lawyer, berenike's christian freedman, he began, had visited their father in prison and had heard the order given to place heron and philip as state prisoners and oarsmen on board a galley. this had taken place in the afternoon, and the christian had further learned that the prisoners would be led to the harbor two hours before sunset. this was the truth, and yet the infamous zminis had assured the emperor, at noon, that their father and philip were already far on their way to sardinia. the worthless egyptian had, then, lied to the emperor; and it would most likely cost the scoundrel his neck. but for this, there would have been time enough next day. what had brought him there at so late an hour was the desire to prevent the departure of the galley; for john had heard, from the christian harbor-watch that the anchor was not yet weighed. the ship could therefore only get out to sea at sunrise; the chain that closed the harbor would not be opened till then. if the order to stop the galley came much after daybreak, she would certainly be by that time well under way, and their father and philip might have succumbed to the hard rowing before a swift trireme could overtake and release them. melissa had listened to this information with mixed feelings. she had perhaps precipitated her father and brother into misery in order to save herself; for a terrible fate awaited the state-prisoners at the oars. and what could she do, an ignorant child, who was of so little use? andreas had told her that it was the duty of a christian and of every good man, if his neighbor's welfare were concerned, to sacrifice his own fortunes; and for the happiness and lives of those dearest to her--for they, of all others, were her "neighbors"--she felt that she could do so. perhaps she might yet succeed in repairing the mischief she had done when she had allowed the emperor to sleep without giving one thought to her father. instead of waking him, she had misused her new power over her brother, and, by preventing his speaking, had perhaps frustrated the rescue of her people. but idle lamenting was of as little use here as at any other time; so she resolutely drew her veil closer round her head and called to her brother, "wait here till i return!" "what are you going to do?" asked alexander, startled. "i am going back to the invalid," she explained, decisively. on this her brother seized her arm, and, wildly excited, forbade this step in the name of his father. but at his vehement shout, "i will not allow it!" she struggled to free herself, and cried out to him: "and you? did not you, whose life is a thousand times more important than mine, of your own free-will go into captivity and to death in order to save our father?" "it was for my sake that he had been robbed of his freedom," interrupted alexander; but she added, quickly: "and if i had not thought only of myself, the command to release him and philip would by this time have been at the harbor. i am going." alexander then took his hand from her arm, and exclaimed, as if urged by some internal force, "well, then, go!" "and you," continued melissa, hastily, "go and seek the lady euryale. she is expecting me. tell her all, and beg her in my name to go to rest. also tell her i remembered the sentence about the time, which was fulfilled. . . . mark the words. if i am running again into danger, tell her that i do it because a voice says to me that it is right. and it is right, believe me, alexander!" the artist drew his sister to him and kissed her; yet she hardly understood his anxious good wishes; for his voice was choked by emotion. he had taken it for granted that he should accompany her as far as the emperor's room, but she would not allow it. his reappearance would only lead to fresh quarrels. he also gave in to this; but he insisted on returning here to wait for her. after melissa had vanished into caesar's quarters he immediately carried out his sister's wish, and told the lady euryale of all that had happened. encouraged by the matron, who was not less shocked than he had been at melissa's daring, he returned to the anteroom, where, at first, greatly excited, he walked up and down, and then sank on a marble seat to wait for his sister. he was frequently overpowered by sleep. the things that cast a shadow on his sunny mind vanished from him, and a pleasing dream showed him, instead of the alarming picture which haunted him before sleeping, the beautiful christian agatha. chapter xx. the waiting-room was empty when melissa crossed it for the second time. most of the emperor's friends had retired to rest or into the city when they had heard that caesar slept; and the few who had remained behaved quietly when she appeared, for philostratus had told them that the emperor held her in high esteem, as the only person who was able to give him comfort in his suffering by her peculiar and wonderful healing power. in the tablinum, which had been converted into a sick-room, nothing was heard but the breathing and gentle snoring of the sleeping man. even philostratus was asleep on an arm-chair at the back of the room. when the philosopher had returned, caracalla had noticed him, and dozing, or perhaps in his dreams, he had ordered him to remain by him. so the learned man felt bound to spend the night there. epagathos, the freedman, was lying on a mattress from the dining-room; the corpulent physician slept soundly, and if he snored too loudly, old adventus poked him and quietly spoke a word of warning to him. this man, who had formerly been a post messenger, was the only person who was conscious of melissa's entrance; but he only blinked at her through his dim eyes, and, after he had silently considered why the young girl should have returned, he turned over in order to sleep himself; for he had come to the conclusion that this young, active creature would be awake and at hand if his master required anything. his wondering as to why melissa had returned, had led to many guesses, and had proved fruitless. "you can know nothing of women," was the end of his reflections, "if you do not know that what seems most improbable is what is most likely to be true. this maid is certainly not one of the flute-players or the like. who knows what incomprehensible whim or freak may have brought her here? at any rate, it will be easier for her to keep her eyes open than it is for me." he then signed to her and asked her quietly to fetch his cloak out of the next room, for his old body needed warmth; and melissa gladly complied, and laid the caracalla over the old mans cold feet with obliging care. she then returned to the side of the sick-bed, to wait for the emperor's awaking. he slept soundly; his regular breathing indicated this. the others also slept, and adventus's light snore, mingling with the louder snoring of the physician, showed that he too had ceased to watch. the slumbering philostratus now and then murmured incomprehensible words to himself; and the lion, who perhaps was dreaming of his freedom in his sandy home, whined low in his sleep. she watched alone. it seemed to her as if she were in the habitation of sleep, and as if phantoms and dreams were floating around her on the unfamiliar noises. she was afraid, and the thought of being the only woman among so many men caused her extreme uneasiness. she could not sit still. inaudibly as a shadow she approached the head of the sleeping emperor, holding her breath to listen to him. how soundly he slept! and she had come that she might talk to him. if his sleep lasted till sunrise, the pardon for her people would be too late, and her father and philip, chained to a hard bench, would have to ply heavy oars as galley slaves by the side of robbers and murderers. how terribly then would her father's wish to use his strength be granted! was philip, the narrow-chested philosopher, capable of bearing the strain which had so often proved fatal to stronger men? she must wake the dreaded man, the only man who could possibly help her. she now raised her hand to lay it on his shoulder, but she half withdrew it. it seemed to her as if it was not much less wicked to rob a sleeping man of his rest, his best cure, than to take the life of a living being. it was not too late yet, for the harbor-chain would not be opened till the october sun had risen. he might enjoy his slumbers a little longer. with this conclusion she once more sank down and listened to the noises which broke the stillness of the night. how hideous they were, how revolting they sounded! the vulgarest of the sleepers, old adventus, absolutely sawed the air with his snoring. the emperor's breathing was scarcely perceptible, and how nobly cut was the profile which she could see, the other side of his face leaning on the pillow! had she any real reason to fear his awakening? perhaps he was quite unlike what berenike thought him to be. she remembered the sympathy she had felt for him when they had first met, and, in spite of all the trouble she had experienced since, she no longer felt afraid. a thought then occurred to her which was sufficient excuse for disturbing the sick man's sleep. if she delayed it, she would be making him guilty of a fresh crime by allowing two blameless men to perish in misery. but she would first convince herself whether the time was pressing. she looked out through the open window at the stars and across the open place lying at her feet. the third hour after midnight was past, and the sun would rise before long. down below all was quiet. macrinus, the praetorian prefect, on hearing that the emperor had fallen into a refreshing sleep, in order that he might not be disturbed, had forbidden all loud signals, and ordered the camp to be closed to all the inhabitants of the city; so the girl heard nothing but the regular footsteps of the sentries and the shrieks of the owls returning to their nests in the roof of the serapeum. the wind from the sea drove the clouds before it across the sky, and the plain covered with tents resembled a sea tossed into high white waves. the camp had been reduced during the afternoon; for caracalla had carried out his threat of that morning by quartering a portion of the picked troops in the houses of the richest alexandrians. melissa, bending far out, looked toward the north. the sea-breeze blew her hair into her face. perhaps on the ocean whence it came the high waves would, in a few hours, be tossing the ship on which her father and brother, seated at the oar, would be toiling as disgraced galley-slaves. that must not, could not be! hark! what was that? she heard a light whisper. in spite of strict orders, a loving couple were passing below. the wife of the centurion martialis, who had been separated for some time from her husband, had at his entreaty come secretly from ranopus, where she had charge of seleukus's villa, to see him, as his services prevented his going so far away. they now stood whispering and making love in the shadow of the temple. melissa could not hear what they said, yet it reminded her of the sacred night hour when she confessed her love to diodoros. she felt as if she were standing by his bedside, and his faithful eyes met hers. she would not, for all that was best in the world, have awakened him yesterday at the christian's house, though the awakening would have brought her fresh promises of love; and yet she was on the point of robbing another of his only cure, the sleep the gods had sent him. but then she loved diodoros, and what was caesar to her? it had been a matter of life and death with her lover, while disturbing caracalla would only postpone his recovery a few hours at the utmost. it was she who had procured the imperial sleeper his rest, which she could certainly restore to him even if she now woke him. just now she had vowed for the future not to care about her own welfare, and that had at first made her doubtful about caracalla; but had it not really been exceedingly selfish to lose the time which could bring freedom to her father and brother, only to protect her own soul from the reproach of an easily forgiven wrong? with the question: "what is your duty?" all doubts left her, and no longer on tiptoe, but with a firm, determined tread, she walked toward the slumberer's couch, and the outrage which she shrank from committing would, she saw, be a deed of kindness; for she found the emperor with perspiring brow groaning and frightened by a severe nightmare. he cried with the dull, toneless voice of one talking in his sleep, as if he saw her close by: "away, mother, i say! he or i! out of the way! you will not? but i, i--if you--" at the same he threw up his hands and gave a dull, painful cry. "he is dreaming of his brother's murder," rushed through melissa's mind, and in the same instant she laid her hand on his arm and with urgent entreaty cried in his ear: "wake up, caesar, i implore you! great caesar, awake!" then he opened his eyes, and a low, prolonged "ah!" rang from his tortured breast. he then, with a deep breath and perplexed glance, looked round him; and as his eyes fell on the young girl his features brightened, and soon wore a happy expression, as if he experienced a great joy. "you?" he asked, with pleased surprise. "you, maiden, still here! it must be nearly dawn? i slept well till just now. but then at the last-oh, it was fearful!--adventus!" melissa, however, interrupted this cry, exhorting the emperor to be quiet by putting her finger to her lips; and he understood her and willingly obeyed, especially as she had guessed what he required from the chamberlain, adventus. she handed him the cloth that lay on the table for him to wipe his streaming forehead. she then brought him drink, and after caracalla had sat up refreshed, and felt that the pain, which, after a sharp attack, lasted sometimes for days, had now already left him, he said, quite gently, mindful of her sign: "how much better i feel already; and for this i thank you, roxana; yes, you know. i like to feel like alexander, but usually--it is certainly a pleasant thing to be ruler of the universe, for if we wish to punish or reward, no one can limit us. you, child, shall learn that it is caesar whom you have laid under such obligations. ask what you will, and i will grant it you." she whispered eagerly to him: "release my father and brother." "always the same thing," answered caracalla, peevishly. "do you know of nothing better to wish for?" "no, my lord, no!" cried melissa, with importunate warmth. "if you will give me what i most care for--" "i will, yes, i will," interrupted the emperor in a softer voice; but suddenly shrugging his shoulders, he continued, regretfully: "but you must have patience; for, by the egyptian's orders, your people have been for some time afloat and at sea." "no!" the girl assured him. "they are still here. zminis has shamefully deceived you;" and then she informed him of what she had learned from her brother. caracalla, in obedience to a softer impulse, had wished to show himself grateful to melissa. but her demand displeased him; for the sculptor and his son, the philosopher, were the security that should keep melissa and the painter attached to him. but though his distrust was so strong, offended dignity and the tormenting sense of being deceived caused him to forget everything else; he flew into a rage, and called loudly the names of epagathos and adventus. his voice, quavering with fury, awakened the others also out of their sleep; and after he had shortly and severely rebuked them for their laziness, he commissioned epagathos to give the prefect, macrinus, immediate orders not to allow the ship on which heron and philip were, to leave the harbor; to set the captives at liberty; and to throw zminis, the egyptian, into prison, heavily chained. when the freedman remarked, humbly, that the prefect was not likely to be found, as he had purposed to be present again that night at the exorcisms of the magician, serapion, caesar commanded that macrinus should be called away from the miracle-monger's house, and the orders given him. "and if i can not find him?" asked epagathos. "then, once more, events will prove how badly i am served," answered the emperor. "in any case you can act the prefect, and see that my orders are carried out." the freedman left hastily, and caracalla sank back exhausted on the pillows. melissa let him rest a little while; then she approached him, thanked him profusely, and begged him to keep quiet, lest the pain should return and spoil the approaching day. he then asked the time, and when philostratus, who had walked to the window, explained that the fifth hour after midnight was past, caracalla bade him prepare a bath. the physician sanctioned this wish, and caesar then gave his hand to the girl, saying, feebly and in a gentle voice: "the pain still keeps away. i should be better if i could moderate my impatience. an early bath often does me good after a bad night. only go. the sleep that you know so well how to give to others, you scarcely allow to visit you. i only beg that you will be at hand. we shall both, i think, feel strengthened when next i call you." melissa then bade him a grateful farewell; but as she was approaching the doorway he called again after her, and asked her with an altered voice, shortly and sternly: "you will agree with your father if he abuses me?" "what an idea!" she answered, energetically. "he knows who robbed him of his liberty, and from me shall he learn who has restored it to him." "good!" murmured the emperor. "yet remember this also: i need your assistance and that of your brother's, the painter. if your father attempts to alienate you--" here he suddenly let fall his arm, which he had raised threateningly, and continued in a confidential whisper: "but how can i ever show you anything but kindness? is it not so? you already feel the secret tie-you know? am i mistaken when i fancy that it grieves you to be separated from me?" "certainly not," she replied, gently, and bowed her head. "then go," he continued, kindly. "the day will come yet when you will feel that i am as necessary to your soul as you are to mine. but you do not yet know how impatient i can be. i must be able to think of you with pleasure--always with pleasure--always." thereupon he nodded to her, and his eyelids remained for some time in spasmodic movement. philostratus was prepared to accompany the young girl, but caracalla prevented him by calling: "lead me to my bath. if it does me good, as i trust it will, i have many things to talk over with you." melissa did not hear the last words. gladly and quickly she hurried through the empty, dimly lighted rooms, and found alexander in a sitting position, half asleep and half awake, with closed eyes. then she drew near to him on tiptoe, and, as his nodding head fell on his breast, she laughed and woke him with a kiss. the lamps were not yet burned out, and, as he looked into her face with surprise, his also brightened, and jumping up quickly he exclaimed: "all's well; we have you back again, and you have succeeded! our fatheri see it in your face--and philip also, are at liberty!" "yes, yes, yes," she answered, gladly; "and now we will go together and fetch them ourselves from the harbor." alexander raised his eyes and arms to heaven in rapture, and melissa imitated him; and thus, without words, though with fervent devotion, they with one accord thanked the gods for their merciful ruling. they then set out together, and alexander said: "i feel as if nothing but gratitude flowed through all my veins. at any rate, i have learned for the first time what fear is. that evil guest certainly haunts this place. let us go now. on the way you shall tell me everything." "only one moment's patience," she begged, cheerfully, and hurried into the chief priest's rooms. the lady euryale was still expecting her, and as she kissed her she looked with sincere pleasure into her bright but tearful eyes. at first she was bent on making melissa rest; for she would yet require all her strength. but she saw that the girl's wish to go and meet her father was justifiable; she placed her own mantle over her shoulders-for the air was cool before sunrise--and at last accompanied her into the anteroom. directly the girl had disappeared, she turned to her sisterin-law's slave, who had waited there the whole night by order of his mistress, and desired him to go and report to her what he had learned about melissa. the brother and sister met the slave argutis outside the serapeum. he had heard at seleukus's house where his young mistress was staying, and had made friends with the chief priest's servants. when, late in the evening, he heard that melissa was still with caesar, he had become so uneasy that he had waited the whole night through, first on the steps of a staircase, then walking up and down outside the serapeum. with a light heart he now accompanied the couple as far as the aspendia quarter of the town, and he then only parted from them in order that he might inform poor old dido of his good news, and make preparations for the reception of the home-comers. after that melissa hurried along, arm in arm with her brother, through the quiet streets. youth, to whom the present belongs entirely, only cares to know the bright side of the future; and even melissa in her joy at being able to restore liberty to her beloved relations, hardly thought at all of the fact that, when this was done and caesar should send for her again, there would be new dangers to surmount. delighted with her grand success, she first told her brother what her experiences had been with the suffering emperor. then she started on the recollections of her visit to her lover, and when alexander opened his heart to her and assured her with fiery ardor that he would not rest till he had won the heart of the lovely christian, agatha, she gladly allowed him to talk and promised him her assistance. at last they deliberated how the favor of caesar--who, melissa assured him, was cruelly misunderstood--was to be won for their father and philip; and finally they both imagined the surprise of the old man if he should be the first to meet them after being set at liberty. the way was far, and when they reached the sea, by the caesareum in the bruchium, the palatial quarter of the town, the first glimmer of approaching dawn was showing behind the peninsula of lochias. the sea was rough, and tossed with heavy, oily waves on the choma that ran out into the sea like a finger, and on the walls of the timoneum at its point, where antonius had hidden his disgrace after the battle of actium. alexander stopped by the pillared temple of poseidon, which stood close on the shore, between the choma and the theatre, and, looking toward the flat, horseshoe-shaped coast of the opposite island which still lay in darkness, he asked: "do you still remember when we went with our mother over to antirhodos, and how she allowed us to gather shells in the little harbor? if she were alive to-day, what more could we wish for?" "that the emperor was gone," exclaimed the girl from the depths of her heart; "that diodoros were well again; that father could use his hands as he used, and that i might stay with him until diodoros came to fetch me, and then... oh, if only something could happen to the empire that caesar might go away-far away, to the farthest hyperborean land!" "that will soon happen now," answered alexander. "philostratus says that the romans will remain at the utmost a week longer." "so long?" asked melissa, startled; but alexander soon pacified her with the assurance that seven days flew speedily by, and when one looked back on them they seemed to shrink into only as many hours. "but do not," he continued, cheerfully, "look into the future! we will rejoice, for everything is going so well now!" he stopped here suddenly and gazed anxiously at the sea, which was no longer completely obscured by the vanishing shadows of night. melissa looked in the direction of his pointing hand, and when he cried with great excitement, "that is no little boat, it is a ship, and a large one, too!" melissa added, eagerly, "it is already near the diabathra. it will reach the alveus steganus in a moment, and pass the pharos." "but yonder is the morning star in the heavens, and the fire is still blazing on the tower," interrupted her brother. "not till it has been extinguished will they open the outside chain. and yet that ship is steering in a northwesterly direction. it certainly comes out of the royal harbor." he then drew his sister on faster, and when, in a few minutes, they reached the harbor gate, he cried out, much relieved: "look there! the chain is still across the entrance. i see it clearly." "and so do i," said melissa, decidedly; and while her brother knocked at the gate-house of the little harbor, she continued, eagerly: "no ships dare go out before sunrise, on account of the rocks--epagathos said so just now--and that one near the pharos--" but there was no time to put her thoughts into words; for the broad harbor gate was thrown noisily open, and a troop of roman soldiers streamed out, followed by several alexandrian men-at-arms. after them came a prisoner loaded with chains, with whom a leading roman in warrior's dress was conversing. both were tall and haggard, and when they approached the brother and sister they recognized in them macrinus the praetorian prefect, while the prisoner was zminis the informer. but the egyptian also noticed the artist and his companion. his eyes sparkled brightly, and with triumphant scorn he pointed out to sea. the magician serapion had persuaded the prefect to let the egyptian go free. nothing was yet known in the harbor of zminis's disgrace, and he had been promptly obeyed as usual, when, spurred on by the magician and his old hatred, he gave the order for the galley which carried the sculptor and his son on board to weigh anchor in spite of the early hour. heron and philip, with chains on their feet, were now rowing on the same bench with the worst criminals; and the old artist's two remaining children stood gazing after the ship that carried away their father and brother into the distance. melissa stood mute, with tearful eyes, while alexander, quite beside himself, tried to relieve his rage and grief by empty threats. soon, however, his sister's remonstrances caused him to restrain himself, and make inquiry as to whether macrinus, in obedience to the emperor's orders, had sent a state ship after the galley. this had been done, and comforted, though sadly disappointed, they started on their way home. the sun in the mean time had risen, and the streets were filling with people. they met the old sculptor lysander, who had been a friend of their father's, outside the magnificent pile of buildings of the caesareum. the old man took a deep interest in heron's fate; and, when alexander asked him modestly what he was doing at that early hour, he pointed to the interior of the building, where the statues of the emperors and empresses stood in a wide circle surrounding a large court-yard, and invited them to come in with him. he had not been able to complete his work--a marble statue of julia domna, caracalla's mother--before the arrival of the emperor. it had been placed here yesterday evening. he had come to see how it looked in its new position. melissa had often seen the portrait of julia on coins and in various pictures, but to-day she was far more strongly attracted than she had ever been before to look in the face of the mother of the man who had so powerfully influenced her own existence and that of her people. the old master had seen julia many years ago in her own home at emesa, as the daughter of bassianus the high-priest of the sun in that town; and later, after she had become empress, he had been commanded to take her portrait for her husband, septimus severus. while melissa gazed on the countenance of the beautiful statue, the old artist related how caracalla's mother had in her youth won all hearts by her wealth of intellect, and the extraordinary knowledge which she had easily acquired and continually added to, through intercourse with learned men. they learned from him that his heart had not remained undisturbed by the charms of his royal model, and melissa became more and more absorbed in her contemplation of this beautiful work of art. lysander had represented the imperial widow standing in flowing draperies, which fell to her feet. she held her charming, youthful head bent slightly on one side, and her right hand held aside the veil which covered the back of her head and fell lightly on her shoulders, a little open over the throat. her face looked out from under it as if she were listening to a fine song or an interesting speech. her thick, slightly waving hair framed the lovely oval of her face under the veil, and alexander agreed with his sister when she expressed the wish that she might but once see this rarely beautiful creature. but the sculptor assured them that they would be disappointed, for time had treated her cruelly. "i have shown her," he continued, "as she charmed me a generation ago. what you see standing before you is the young girl julia; i was not capable of representing her as matron or mother. the thought of her son would have spoiled everything," "he is capable of better emotions," alexander declared. "may be," answered the old man--" i do not know them. may your father and brother be restored to you soon!--i must get to work!" transcribed from the 1913 jarrold and sons edition by david price, email ccx074@pglaf.org romantic ballads, translated from the danish; and miscellaneous pieces; by george borrow. * * * * * through gloomy paths unknown- paths which untrodden be, from rock to rock i roam along the dashing sea. bowring. * * * * * norwich: printed and published by jarrold and sons. 1913 contents. preface lines from allan cunningham to george borrow the death-raven. from the danish of oehlenslaeger fridleif and helga. from the danish of oehlenslaeger sir middel. from the old danish elvir-shades. from the danish of oehlenslaeger the heddybee-spectre. from the old danish sir john. from the old danish may asda. from the danish of oehlenslaeger aager and eliza. from the old danish saint oluf. from the old danish the heroes of dovrefeld. from the old danish svend vonved. from the old danish the tournament. from the old danish vidrik verlandson. from the old danish elvir hill. from the old danish waldemar's chase the merman. from the old danish the deceived merman. from the old danish miscellanies. cantata the hail-storm. from the norse the elder-witch ode. from the gaelic bear song. from the danish of evald national song. from the danish of evald the old oak lines to six-foot three nature's temperaments. from the danish of oehlenslaeger the violet-gatherer. from the danish of oehlenslaeger ode to a mountain-torrent. from the german of stolberg runic verses thoughts on death. from the swedish of c. lohman birds of passage. from the swedish the broken harp scenes the suicide's grave. from the german the original title page. 200 copies by subscription {i:s. wilkin 1826 title page: tp1.jpg} the london (john taylor) title page. 300 copies including those bearing the imprint of wightman & cramp. {i:john taylor 1826 title page: tp2.jpg} preface the ballads in this volume are translated from the works of oehlenslaeger, (a poet who is yet living, and who stands high in the estimation of his countrymen,) and from the kiaempe viser, a collection of old songs, celebrating the actions of the ancient heroes of scandinavia. the old danish poets were, for the most part, extremely rude in their versification. their stanzas of four or two lines have not the full rhyme of vowel and consonant, but merely what the spaniards call the "assonante," or vowel rhyme, and attention seldom seems to have been paid to the number of _feet_ on which the lines moved along. but, however defective their poetry may be in point of harmony of numbers, it describes, in vivid and barbaric language, scenes of barbaric grandeur, which in these days are never witnessed; and, which, though the modern muse may imagine, she generally fails in attempting to pourtray, from the violent desire to be smooth and tuneful, forgetting that smoothness and tunefulness are nearly synonymous with tameness and unmeaningness. i expect shortly to lay before the public a complete translation of the kiaempe viser, made by me some years ago; and of which, i hope, the specimens here produced will not give an unfavourable idea. it was originally my intention to publish, among the "miscellaneous pieces," several translations from the gaelic, formerly the language of the western world; the noble tongue "a labhair padric' nninse fail na riogh. 'san faighe caomhsin colum naomhta' n i." which patrick spoke in innisfail, to heathen chiefs of old which columb, the mild prophet-saint, spoke in his island-hold-but i have retained them, with one exception, till i possess a sufficient quantity to form an entire volume. from allan cunningham, to george borrow, _on his proposing to translate the_ '_kiaepe viser_.' sing, sing, my friend; breathe life again through norway's song and denmark's strain: on flowing thames and forth, in flood, pour haco's war-song, fierce and rude. o'er england's strength, through scotland's cold, his warrior minstrels marched of old-called on the wolf and bird of prey to feast on ireland's shore and bay; and france, thy forward knights and bold, rough rollo's ravens croaked them cold. sing, sing of earth and ocean's lords, their songs as conquering as their swords; strains, steeped in many a strange belief, now stern as steel, now soft as grief-wild, witching, warlike, brief, sublime, stamped with the image of their time; when chafed--the call is sharp and high for carnage, as the eagles cry; when pleased--the mood is meek, and mild, and gentle, as an unweaned child. sing, sing of haunted shores and shelves, st. oluf and his spiteful elves, of that wise dame, in true love need, who of the clear stream formed the steed-how youthful svend, in sorrow sharp, the inspired strings rent from his harp; and sivard, in his cloak of felt, danced with the green oak at his belt-or sing the sorceress of the wood, the amorous merman of the flood-or elves that, o'er the unfathomed stream, sport thick as motes in morning beam-or bid me sail from iceland isle, with rosmer and fair ellenlyle, what time the blood-crow's flight was south, bearing a man's leg in its mouth. though rough and rude, those strains are rife of things kin to immortal life, which touch the heart and tinge the cheek, as deeply as divinest greek. in simple words and unsought rhyme, give me the songs of olden time. the death-raven. from the danish of oehlenslaeger. the silken sail, which caught the summer breeze, drove the light vessel through the azure seas; upon the lofty deck, dame sigrid lay, and watch'd the setting of the orb of day: then, all at once, the smiling sky grew dark, the breakers rav'd, and sinking seem'd the bark; the wild death-raven, perch'd upon the mast, scream'd 'mid the tumult, and awoke the blast. dame sigrid saw the demon bird on high, and tear-drops started in her beauteous eye; her cheeks, which late like blushing roses bloom'd, had now the pallid hue of fear assum'd: "o wild death-raven, calm thy frightful rage, nor war with one who warfare cannot wage. tame yonder billows, make them cease to roar, and i will give thee pounds of golden ore." "with gold thou must not hope to pay the brave, for gold i will not calm a single wave, for gold i will not hush the stormy air, and yet my heart is mov'd by thy despair; give me the treasure hid beneath thy belt, and straight yon clouds in harmless rain shall melt, and down i'll thunder, with my claws of steel. upon the merman clinging to your keel." "what i conceal'd beneath my girdle bear, is thine--irrevocably thine--i swear. thou hast refus'd a great and noble prey, to get possession of my closet key. lo! here it is, and, when within thy maw, may'st thou much comfort from the morsel draw!" the polish'd steel upon the deck she cast, and off the raven flutter'd from the mast. then down at once he plung'd amid the main, and clove the merman's frightful head in twain; the foam-clad billows to repose he brought, and tam'd the tempest with the speed of thought; then, with a thrice-repeated demon cry, he soar'd aloft and vanish'd in the sky: a soft wind blew the ship towards the land, and soon dame sigrid reach'd the wish'd-for strand. once, late at eve, she play'd upon her harp, close by the lake where slowly swam the carp; and, as the moon-beam down upon her shone, she thought of norway, and its pine-woods lone. "yet love i denmark," said she, "and the danes, for o'er them alf, my mighty husband, reigns." then 'neath her girdle something mov'd and yearn'd, and into terror all her bliss was turn'd. "ah! now i know thy meaning, cruel bird . . . " long sat she, then, and neither spoke nor stirr'd. faint, through the mist which rob'd the sky in gray, the pale stars glimmer'd from the milky way. "ah! now i know thy meaning, cruel bird . . . " she strove in vain to breathe another word. above her head, its leaf the aspen shook-moist as her cheek, and pallid as her look. full five months pass'd, ere she, 'mid night and gloom, brought forth with pain an infant from her womb: they baptiz'd it, at midnight's murky hour, lest it should fall within the demon's power. it was a boy, more lovely than the morn, yet sigrid's heart with bitter care was torn. deep in a grot, through which a brook did flow, with crystal drops they sprinkled harrald's brow. he grew and grew, till upon danish ground no youth to match the stripling could be found; he was at once so graceful and so strong-his look was fire, and his speech was song. when yet a child, he tam'd the battle steed, and only thought of war and daring deed; but yet queen sigrid nurs'd prophetic fears, and when she view'd him, always swam in tears. one evening late, she lay upon her bed, (king alf, her noble spouse, was long since dead) she felt so languid, and her aching breast with more than usual sorrow was oppress'd. ah, then she heard a sudden sound that thrill'd her every nerve, and life's warm current chill'd:-the bird of death had through the casement flown, and thus he scream'd to her, in frightful tone: "the wealthy bird came towering, came scowering, o'er hill and stream. 'look here, look here, thou needy bird, how gay my feathers gleam.' "the needy bird came fluttering, came muttering, and sadly sang, 'look here, look here, thou wealthy bird, how loose my feathers hang.' "remember, queen, the stormy day, when cast away thou wast so nigh:-thou wast the needy bird that day, and unto me didst cry. "death-raven now comes towering, comes scowering, o'er hill and stream; but when wilt thou, dame sigrid fair, thy plighted word redeem." a hollow moan from sigrid's bosom came, while he survey'd her with his eye of flame: "fly," said she; "demon monster, get thee hence! my humble pray'r shall be my son's defence." she cross'd herself, and then the fiend flew out; but first, contemptuously he danc'd about, and sang, "no pray'r shall save him from my rage; in christian blood my thirst i will assuage." young harrald seiz'd his scarlet cap, and cried, "i'll probe the grief my mother fain would hide;" then, rushing into her apartment fair, "o mother," said he, "wherefore sitt'st thou there, far from thy family at dead of night, with lips so mute, and cheeks so ghastly white? tell me what lies so heavy at thy heart; grief, when confided, loses half its smart." "o harrald," sigh'd she, yielding to his pray'r, "creatures are swarming in the earth and air, who, wild with wickedness, and hot with wrath, wage war on those who follow virtue's path. one of those fiends is on the watch for thee, arm'd with a promise wrung by him from me: his blood-shot eyes in narrow sockets roll, and every night he leaves his mirksome hole. "he was a kind of god, in former days; kings worshipp'd him, and minstrels sang his praise; but when christ's doctrine through the dark north flam'd, his, and all evil spirits' might was tam'd. he now is but a raven; yet is still full strong enough to work on thee his will: lost is the wretch who in his power falls-vainly he shrieks, in vain for mercy calls." she whisper'd to him then, with bloodless lip, what had befallen her on board the ship; but youthful harrald listen'd undismay'd, and merely gripp'd the handle of his blade. "my son," she murmur'd, when her tale was told, "fear withers me, but thou look'st blythe and bold." the youth uplifted then his sparkling eye, and said, whilst gazing on the moon-lit sky, "once, my dear mother, at the close of day, among tall flowers in the grove i lay, soft sang the linnets from a thousand trees, and, sweetly lull'd, i slumber'd by degrees. then, heaven's curtain was, methought, undrawn, and, clad in hues that deck the brow of morn, an angel slowly sank towards the earth, which seem'd to hail him with a smile of mirth. "he rais'd his hand, and bade me fix my eye upon a chain which, hanging from the sky, embrac'd the world; and, stretching high and low, clink'd, as it mov'd, the notes of joy and wo: the links that came in sight were purpled o'er full frequently with what seem'd human gore; of various metals made, it clasp'd the mould,-steel clung to silver, iron clung to gold. "then said the angel, with majestic air,-'the chain of destiny thou seest there. accept whate'er it gives, and murmur not; for hard necessity has cast each lot.' he vanish'd--i awoke with sudden start, but that strange dream was graven on my heart. i go wherever fate shall please to call,-without god's leave, no fly to earth can fall." it thunders--and from midnight's mirky cloud, comes peal on peal reverberating loud: the froth-clad breakers cast, with sullen roar, a scottish bark upon the whiten'd shore. straight to the royal palace hasten then a lovely maid and thirty sea-worn men. minona, scotland's princess, scotland's boast, the storm has driven to the danish coast. oft, while the train hew timber in the groves, minona, arm in arm, with harrald roves. warm from his lip the words of passion flow; pure in her eyes the flames of passion glow. one summer eve, upon a mossy bank, mouth join'd to mouth, and breast to breast, they sank: the moon arose in haste to see their love, and wild birds carroll'd from the boughs above. but now the ship, which seem'd of late a wreck, floats with a mast set proudly on her deck. minona kisses harrald's blooming face, whilst he attends her to the parting place. his bold young heart beats high against his side-she sail'd away--and, like one petrified, full long he stood upon the shore, to view the smooth keel slipping through the waters blue. months pass, and sigrid's sorrow disappears; the wild death-raven's might no more she fears; a gentle red bedecks her cheek again, and briny drops her eye no longer stain. "my harrald stalks in manly size and strength; swart bird of darkness, i rejoice at length; if thy curst claw could hurt my gallant son, long, long, ere this, the deed would have been done." but harrald look'd so moody and forlorn, and thus his mother he address'd one morn: "minona's face is equall'd by her mind; methinks she calls me from her hills of wind? give me a ship with men and gold at need, and let me to her father's kingdom speed; i'll soon return, and back across the tide bring thee a daughter, and myself a bride." dame sigrid promis'd him an answer soon, and went that night, when risen was the moon, deep through the black recesses of the wood, to where old bruno's shelter'd cabin stood. she enter'd--there he sat behind his board, his woollen vestment girded by a cord; the little lamp, which hung from overhead, gleam'd on the bible-leaves before him spread. "hail to thee, father!--man of hoary age, thy queen demands from thee thy counsel sage. young harrald to a distant land will go, and i his destiny would gladly know: thou read'st the stars,--o do the stars portend that he shall come to an untimely end? take from his mother's heart this one last care, and she will always name thee in her pray'r." the hermit, rising from his lonely nook, with naked head, and coldly placid look, went out and gaz'd intently on the sky, whose lights were letters to his ancient eye. "the stars," said he, "in friendly order stand, one only, flashes like an angry brand:-thy harrald, gentle queen, will not be slain upon the _earth_, nor yet upon the _main_." while thus the seer prophetically spoke, a flush of joy o'er sigrid's features broke: "he'll not be slain on ocean or on land," she said, and kiss'd the hermit's wrinkled hand; "why then, i'm happy, and my son is free to mount his bark, and gallop through the sea: upon the grey stone he will sit as king, when, in the grave, my bones are mouldering." the painted galley floats now in the creek-flags at her mast, and garlands at her beak; high on the yard-arm hoisted is the sail, half spread it flutters in the evening gale. the night before he goes, young harrald stray'd into the wood where first he saw his maid: burning impatience fever'd all his blood, he wish'd for wings to bear him o'er the flood. then sigh'd the wind among the bushy grounds, far in the distance rose the yell of hounds: the flame-wisps, starting from the sedge and grass, hung, 'mid the vapours, over the morass. up to him came a beldame, wildly drest, bearing a closely-folded feather-vest: she smil'd upon him with her cheeks so wan, gave him the robe, and was already gone. young harrald, though astonish'd, has no fears; the mighty garment in his hand he rears: of wond'rous lovely feathers it was made, which once the roc and ostrich had array'd. he wishes much to veil in it his form, and speed as rapidly as speeds the storm: he puts it on, then seeks the open plain,-takes a short flight, and flutters back again. "courage!" he cried, "i will no longer stay; scotland shall see me, ere the break of day." then like a dragon in the air he soars, startled from slumber, in his wake it roars. his wings across the ocean take their flight; groves, cities, hills, have vanish'd from his sight,-see! there he goes, lone rider of the sky, miles underneath him, black the billows lie. he hears a clapping on the midnight wind: speed, harrald, speed! the raven is behind. flames from his swarthy-rolling eye are cast:-"ha! harrald," scream'd he, "have we met at last?" for the first time, the youth felt terror's force; pale grew his cheek, as that of clammy corse, chill was his blood, his nervous arm was faint, while thus he stammer'd forth his lowly plaint: "i see it is in vain to strive with fate; thank god, my soul is far above thy hate; but, ere my mortal part thou dost destroy, let me one moment of sweet bliss enjoy: the fair unmatch'd minona is my love, for her i travell'd, fool-like, here above: let me fly to her with my last farewell, and i am thine, ere morning decks the fell." firmly the raven holding him in air, survey'd his prize with fiercely-rabid glare: "now is the time to wreak on thee my lust; yet thou shalt own that i am good and just." then from its socket, harrald's eye he tore, and drank a full half of the hero's gore:-"since i have mark'd thee, thou art free to go; but loiter not when thou art there below." young harrald sinks with many a sob and tear, down from the sky to nature's lower sphere: he rested long beneath the poplar tall, which grew up, under the red church's wall. then, rising slow, he feebly stagger'd on, till his minona's bower he had won. trembling and sad he stood beside the door-pale as a spectre, and besprent with gore! "minona, come, ere harrald's youthful heart is burst by love and complicated smart. soon will his figure disappear from earth, yet we shall meet in heaven's halls of mirth: minona, come and give me one embrace, that i may instantly my path retrace." thus warbles he in passion's wildest note, while death each moment rattles in his throat. minona came: "almighty god!" she cried, "my harrald's ghost has wander'd o'er the tide; red clots of blood his yellow tresses streak, drops of the same are running down his cheek." "minona, love, survey me yet more near, it is no shadow which accosts thee here; place thy warm hand upon my heart, and feel whether it beats for thee with slacken'd zeal." at once the current of her tears she stopp'd, his arm upheld her, or the maid had dropp'd; the roses faded from her face away, and on her head the raven locks grew gray. all he had borne, and what he yet must bear, he murmurs to her whilst she trembles there: the hero then with dying ardour press'd, for the last time, his bosom to her breast. "farewell! minona, all my fears are flown, and if i grieve, it is for thee alone: give me a kiss, and give me too a smile, and let not tears that parting look defile. now will i drink the bitter draught of death, and yield courageously my forfeit breath:-farewell! may heaven take thee in its care," he said, and mounted swiftly in the air. she gaz'd; but he had vanish'd from her view; she stood forsaken in the damp and dew, then dark emotion quiver'd in her eye, and thus she pray'd, with hands uplifted high: "thou who wert vainly tempted in the wild, thou who wert always charitably mild, thou who mad'st peter walk on billows blue, enable me my harrald to pursue." sunken already was the morning star, the song of nightingales was heard afar, the red sun peep'd above the mountain's brow, and flowers scented all the vale below. there came a youthful maiden, gaily drest, bearing upon her back a feather-vest; fondly she kiss'd minona's features wan, gave her the robe, and then at once was gone. and straight minona clothes in it her limbs, and soaring upward through the ether swims: to moan and sob, her madden'd breast disdains, too big for such low comfort are its pains. the fowls that meet her in yon airy fields, she clips in pieces with an axe she wields; each clanging pinion ceaselessly she plies, but cannot meet the raven or his prize. she hears a faint shriek in the air below, and, swift as eagle pounces on his foe, down, down, she dropp'd, and lighted on the shore, which far and wide was wet with harrald's gore. she smil'd so ruefully, but still was mute-his good right hand was lying at her foot: that pledge of truth, in love's unclouded day, was the sole remnant of the demon's prey. deep in her breast she hid the bloody hand, and bade adieu, for ever, to the land: again she scower'd through the airy path, her eyeballs terrible with madden'd wrath: the raven-sorcerer at length she spied, and soon her steel was with his hot blood dyed: the huge black body, piecemeal, found a grave amid the bosom of the briny wave. the ocean billows fret and foam no more, but softly rush towards the pebbled shore, on which the lindens stand, in many a group, with leafy boughs that o'er the waters droop. there floats one single cloudlet in the blue, close where the pale moon shows her face anew: it is minona dying there that flies,-she sinks not!--no--she mounts unto the skies. fridleif and helga. from the danish of oehlenslaeger. the woods were in leaf, and they cast a sweet shade; among them walk'd helga, the beautiful maid. the water is dashing o'er yon little stones; she sat down beside it, and rested her bones. she sat down, and soon, from a bush that was near, sir fridleif approach'd her with sword and with spear: "ah, pity me, helga, and fly me not now, i live, only live, on the smile of thy brow: "in thy father's whole garden is found not a rose, which bright as thyself, and as beautiful grows." "sir fridleif, thy words are but meant to deceive, yet tell me what brings thee so late here at eve." "i cannot find rest, and i cannot find ease, though sweet sing the linnets among the wild trees; "if thou wilt but promise, one day to be mine, no more shall i sorrow, no more shall i pine." she sank in his arms, and her cheeks were as red as the sun when he sinks in his watery bed; but soon she arose from his loving embrace; he walk'd by her side, through the wood, for a space. "now listen, young fridleif, the gallant and bold, take off from my finger this ring of red gold, take off from my finger this ring of red gold, and part with it not, till in death thou art cold." sir fridleif stood there in a sorrowful plight, salt tears wet his eyeballs, and blinded his sight. "go home, and i'll come to thy father with speed, and claim thee from him, on my mighty grey steed." sir fridleif, at night, through the thick forest rode, he fain would arrive at his lov'd one's abode; his harness was clanking, his helm glitter'd sheen, his horse was so swift, and himself was so keen: he reach'd the proud castle, and jump'd on the ground, his horse to the branch of a linden he bound; he shoulder'd his mantle of grey otter skin, and through the wide door, to sir erik went in. "here sitt'st thou, sir erik, in scarlet array'd; i've wedded thy daughter, the beautiful maid." "and who art thou, rider? what feat hast thou done? no nidering coward shall e'er be my son." "o far have i wander'd, renown'd is my name, the heroes i conquer'd wherever i came: "han elland, 't is true, long disputed the ground, but yet he receiv'd from my hand his death-wound." sir erik then alter'd his countenance quite, and out hurried he, in the gloom of the night. "fill high, little kirstin, my best drinking cup, and be the brown liquor with poison mixt up." she gave him the draught, and returning with speed, "young gallant," said he, "thou must taste my old mead." sir fridleif unbuckled his helmet and drank; sweat sprung from his forehead--his features grew blank. "i never have drain'd, since the day i was born, a bitterer draught, from a costlier horn: "my course is completed, my life is summ'd up, for treason i smell in the dregs of the cup." sir erik then said, while he stamp'd on the ground, "young knight, 't is thy fortune to die like a hound. "my best belov'd friend thou didst boast to have slain, and i have aveng'd him by giving thee bane: "not helga, but hela, {f:1} shall now be thy bride; dark blue are her cheeks, and she looks stony-eyed." "sir erik, thy words are both witty and wise, and hell, when it has thee, will have a rich prize! "convey unto helga her gold ring so red; be sure to inform her when fridleif is dead; "but flame shall give water, and marble shall bleed, before thou shalt win by this treacherous deed: "and i will not die like a hound, in the straw, but go, like a hero, to odin and thor." he cut himself thrice, with his keen-cutting glaive, and went to valhalla, {f:2} the way of the brave. the knight bade his daughter come into the room: "look here, my sweet child, on thy merry bridegroom." she look'd on the body, and gave a wild start; "o father, why hadst thou so cruel a heart?" she moan'd and lamented, she rav'd and she curst; she look'd on her love, till her very eyes burst. at midnight, sir erik was standing there mute, with two pallid corses beside his cold foot: he stood stiff and still; and when morning-light came, he stood, like a post, without life in his frame. the youth and the maid were together interr'd, sir erik could not from his posture be stirr'd: he stood there, as stiffly, for thirty long days, and look'd on the earth with a petrified gaze. 't is said, on the night of the thirtieth long day, to dust and to ashes he moulder'd away. sir middel. from the old danish. so tightly was swanelil lacing her vest, that forth spouted milk, from each lily-white breast; that saw the queen-mother, and thus she begun: "what maketh the milk from thy bosom to run?" "o this is not milk, my dear mother, i vow; it is but the mead i was drinking just now." "ha! out on thee minion! these eyes have their sight; would'st tell me that mead, in its colour, is white?" "well, well, since the proofs are so glaring and strong, i own that sir middel has done me a wrong." "and was he the miscreant? dear shall he pay, for the cloud he has cast on our honour's bright ray; i'll hang him up; yes, i will hang him with scorn, and burn thee to ashes, at breaking of morn." the maiden departed in anguish and wo, and straight to sir middel it lists her to go; arriv'd at the portal, she sounded the bell, "now wake thee, love, if thou art living and well." sir middel he heard her, and sprang from his bed; not knowing her voice, in confusion he said, "away: for i have neither candle nor light, and i swear that no mortal shall enter this night!" "now busk ye, sir middel, in christ's holy name; i fly from my mother, who knows of my shame; she'll hang thee up; yes, she will hang thee with scorn, and burn me to ashes, at breaking of morn." "ha! laugh at her threat'nings, so empty and wild; she neither shall hang me, nor burn thee, my child: collect what is precious, in jewels and garb, and i'll to the stable and saddle my barb." he gave her the cloak, that he us'd at his need, and he lifted her up, on the broad-bosom'd steed. the forest is gain'd, and the city is past, when her eyes to the heaven she wistfully cast. "what ails thee, dear maid? we had better now stay, for thou art fatigu'd by the length of the way." "i am not fatigu'd by the length of the way; but my seat is uneasy, in truth, i must say." he spread, on the cold earth, his mantle so wide; "now rest thee, my love, and i'll watch by thy side." "o jesus, that one of my maidens were near! the pains of a mother are on me, i fear." "thy maidens are now at a distance from thee, and thou art alone in the forest with me." "'twere better to perish, again and again, than thou should'st stand by me, and gaze on my pain." "then take off thy kerchief, and cover my head, and perhaps i may stand in the wise-woman's stead." "o christ, that i had but a draught of the wave! to quench my death-thirst, and my temples to lave." sir middel was to her so tender and true, and he fetch'd her the drink in her gold-spangled shoe. the fountain was distant, and when he drew near, two nightingales sat there and sang in his ear: "thy love, she is dead, and for ever at rest, with two little babes that lie cold on her breast." such was their song; but he heeded them not, and trac'd his way back to the desolate spot; but oh, what a spectacle burst on his view! for all they had told him was fatally true. he dug a deep grave by the side of a tree, and buried therein the unfortunate three. as he clamp'd the mould down with his iron-heel'd boot he thought that the babies scream'd under his foot: then placing his weapon against a grey stone, he cast himself on it, and died with a groan. ye maidens of norway, henceforward beware! for love, when unbridled, will end in despair. elvir-shades. from the danish of oehlenslaeger. a sultry eve pursu'd a sultry day; dark streaks of purple in the sky were seen, and shadows half conceal'd the lonely way; i spurr'd my courser, and more swiftly rode, in moody silence, through the forests green, where doves and linnets had their lone abode: it was my fate to reach a brook, at last, which, by sweet-scented bushes fenc'd around, defiance bade to heat and nipping blast. inclin'd to rest, and hear the wild birds' song, i stretch'd myself upon that brook's soft bound, and there i fell asleep and slumber'd long; and only woke, o wonder, to perceive a gold-hair'd maiden, as a snowdrop pale, her slender form from out the ground upheave: then fear o'ercame me, and this daring heart beat three times audibly against my mail; i wish'd to speak, but could no sound impart. and see! another maid rose up and took some drops of water from the foaming rill, and gaz'd upon me with a wistful look. said she, "what brings thee to this lonely place? but do not fear, for thou shalt meet no ill; thou steel-clad warrior, full of youth and grace." "no;" sang the other, in delightful tone, "but thou shalt gaze on prodigies which ne'er to man's unhallow'd eye have yet been shown." the brook which lately brawl'd among the trees stood still, the murmur of that song to hear; no green leaf stirr'd, and fetter'd seem'd the breeze. the thrush, upstarting in the distant dell, shook its brown wing, with golden streaks array'd, and ap'd the witch-notes, as they rose and fell. bright gleam'd the lake's broad sheet of liquid blue, where, with the rabid pike, the troutling play'd; the rose unlock'd its folded leaves anew, and blush'd, besprinkled with the night's cold tear. once more the lily rais'd its head and smil'd, all ghastly white, as when it decks the bier. though sweet she sang, my fears were not the less, for in her accents there was something wild, which i can feel, 't is true, but not express. "come with us," sang she, "deep below the earth, where sun ne'er burns, and storm-winds never rave; come with us to our halls of princely mirth, "there thou shalt learn from us the runic lay; but dip thee, first, in yonder crystal wave, which binds thee to the elfin race for aye: "though painted flowers on earth's breast abound, yet we have far more lovely ones below; like grass the chrysolites there strew the ground." "o come," the other syren did exclaim, "for rubies there more red than roses grow-the sapphir's blue the violet puts to shame." i rais'd my eyes to heaven's starry dome, and gripp'd my faulchion with convulsive might, resolv'd no witchcraft should my mind o'ercome. my lengthen'd silence vex'd the maidens sore: "wilt thou detain us here the live-long night, or must we, stripling, proffer something more? "taught by us, thou shalt bind the rugged bear,-seize on the mighty dragon's heap of gold,-and slay the cockatrice while in her lair! "but from thy breast the blood we will suck out, unless thou follow us beneath the mould! decide, decide, nor longer pause in doubt!" cold sweat i shed, and as, with trembling hand, i strove to whirl my beaming faulchion round, it sank, enthrall'd by magic's potent band. each witch drew nigh, with dagger high uprear'd; just then a cock, beyond the wild wood's bound, crew loud--and in the earth they disappear'd. i flung myself upon my frighten'd barb, just as the shades began to grow less murk, and sun-beams clad the sky in gayer garb. let each young warrior from such places fly: disease and death beneath the flowers lurk; and elves would suck the warm blood from his eye. the heddybee-spectre. from the old danish. i clomb in haste my dappled steed, and gallop'd far o'er mount and mead; and when the day drew nigh its close, i laid me down to take repose. i laid me down to take repose, and slumbers sweet fell o'er my brows: and then, methought, as there i slept, from out the ground the dead man leapt. said he, "if thou art valiant, knight, my murder soon will see the light; for thou wilt ride to heddybee, where live my youthful brothers three: "and there, too, thou wilt surely find my father dear and mother kind; and there sits kate, my much-loved wife, who with her women took my life. "they chok'd me, as in bed i lay, then wrapp'd me in a truss of hay; and bore me out at dead of night, and laid me in this lonely height. "the groom, who lately clean'd my stall, now struts and vapours through my hall,-eats gaily with my silver knife, and sleeps with kate, my much-lov'd wife. "his place is highest at the board; but what is most to be deplor'd, he gives my babes so little bread, and mocks them now their sire is dead. "clad in my clothes he proudly stalks along the shady forest-walks; and, arm'd with bow and hunting spear, he shoots my birds and stabs my deer. "were i alive, to meet him now, all underneath the linden bough, with no one nigh, my wrath to check, i'd wring his head from off his neck! "but hie thee hence to heddybee, where live my youthful brothers three; first tell them all--then stab the groom-allow my wife a milder doom." sir john. from the old danish. sir lave to the island stray'd; he wedded there a lovely maid: "i'll have her yet," said john. he brought her home across the main, with knights and ladies in the train: "i'm close behind," said john. they plac'd her on the bridal seat; sir lave bade them drink and eat: "aye: that we will," said john. the servants led her then to bed, but could not loose her girdle red! "i can, perhaps," said john. he shut the door with all his might; he lock'd it fast, and quench'd the light: "i shall sleep here," said john. a servant to sir lave hied;-"sir john is sleeping with the bride:" "aye, that i am," said john. sir lave to the chamber flew: "arise, and straight the door undo!" "a likely thing!" said john. he struck with shield, he struck with spear-"come out, thou dog, and fight me here!" "another time," said john. "and since thou with my bride hast lain, to our good king i will complain." "that thou canst do," said john. as soon as e'er the morning shone, sir lave sought our monarch's throne; "i'll go there too," said john. "o king, chastise this wicked wight, for with my wife he slept last night." "'t is very true," said john. "since ye two love one pretty face, your lances must decide the case." "with all my heart," said john. the sun on high was shining bright, and thousands came to see the fight: "lo! here i am:" said john. the first course that they ran so free, sir john's horse fell upon his knee: "now help me god!" said john. the next course that they ran, in ire, sir lave fell among the mire. "he's dead enough!" said john. the victor to the castle hied, and there in tears he found the bride: "thou art my own," said john. that night, forgetting all alarms, again she blest him in her arms. "i have her now!" said john. may {f:3} asda. from the danish of oehlenslaeger. may asda is gone to the merry green wood; like flax was each tress on her temples that stood; her cheek like the rose-leaf that perfumes the air; her form, like the lily-stalk, graceful and fair: she mourn'd for her lover, sir frovin the brave, for he had embark'd on the boisterous wave; and, burning to gather the laurels of war, had sail'd with king humble to orkney afar: at feast and at revel, wherever she went, her thoughts on his perils and dangers were bent; no joy has the heart that loves fondly and dear-no pleasure save when the lov'd object is near! may asda walk'd out in the bonny noon-tide, and roam'd where the beeches grew up in their pride; she sat herself down on the green sloping hill, where liv'd the erl-people, {f:4} and where they live still: then trembled the turf, as she sat in repose, and straight from the mountain three maidens arose; and with them a loom, and upon it a woof, as white as the snow when it falls on the roof. of red shining gold was the fairy-loom made; they sang and they danc'd, and their swift shuttles play'd; their song was of death, and their song was of life, it sounded like billows in tumult and strife. they gave her the woof, with a sorrowful look, and vanish'd like bubbles that burst on the brook; but deep in the mountain was heard a sweet strain, as the lady went home to her bower again. the web was unfinish'd; she wove and she spun, nor rested a moment, until it was done; and there was enough, when the work was complete, to form for a dead man a shirt or a sheet. the heroes return'd from the well-foughten field, and bore home sir frovin's corse, laid on a shield; sad sight for the maid! but she still was alert, and sew'd round the body the funeral shirt: and when she had come to the very last stitch, her feelings, so long suppress'd, rose to a pitch, the cold clammy sweat from her features outbroke; death struck her, and meekly she bow'd to the stroke. she rests with her lover now deep in the grave, and o'er them the beeches their mossy boughs wave; there sing the erl-maidens their ditties aloud, and dance while the merry moon peeps from the cloud. aager and eliza. from the old danish. have ye heard of bold sir aager, how he rode to yonder isle; there he saw the sweet eliza, who upon him deign'd to smile. there he married sweet eliza, with her lands and ruddy gold-wo is me! the monday after, dead he lay beneath the mould! in her bower sat eliza; rent the air with shriek and groan; all which heard the good sir aager, underneath the granite stone. up his mighty limbs he gather'd, took the coffin on his back; and to fair eliza's bower hasten'd, by the well-known track. on her chamber's lowly portal, with his fingers long and thin, thrice he tapp'd, and bade eliza straightway let her bridegroom in! straightway answer'd fair eliza, "i will not undo my door till i hear thee name sweet jesus, as thou oft hast done before." "rise, o rise, my own eliza, and undo thy chamber door; i can name the name of jesus, as i once could do before." up then rose the sweet eliza,-up she rose, and twirl'd the pin. straight the chamber door flew open, and the dead man glided in. with her comb she comb'd his ringlets, for she felt but little fear: on each lock that she adjusted fell a hot and briny tear. "listen, now, my good sir aager, dearest bridegroom, all i crave is to know how it goes with thee, in that lonely place, the grave?" "every time that thou rejoicest, and thy breast with pleasure heaves, then that moment is my coffin lin'd with rose and laurel leaves. "every time that thou art shedding from thine eyes the briny flood, then that moment is my coffin fill'd with black and loathsome blood. "heard i not the red cock crowing, distant far upon the wind? down to dust the dead are going, and i may not stop behind. "heaven's ruddy portals open,-daylight bursts upon my view; though the word be hard to utter, i must bid thee, love, adieu!" up his mighty limbs he gather'd, took the coffin on his back, to the church-yard straight he hasten'd by the well-known, beaten, track. up then rose the sweet eliza; tear-drops on her features stood, while her lover she attended through the dark and dreary wood. when they reach'd the lone enclosure, (last, sad, refuge of the dead)-from the cheeks of good sir aager all the lovely colour fled: "listen, now, my sweet eliza, if my peace be dear to thee: never, then, from this time forward, shed a single tear for me. "turn thy lovely eyes to heaven, where the stars are beaming pale; thou canst tell me, then, for certain, if the night begins to fail." when she turn'd her eyes to heaven, all with stars besprinkled o'er, in the earth the dead man glided, and she never saw him more. homeward went the sweet eliza; oh, her heart was chill and cold:-wo is me! the monday after, dead she lay beneath the mould! saint oluf. from the old danish. st. oluf was a mighty king, who rul'd the northern land; the holy christian faith he preach'd, and taught it, sword in hand. st. oluf built a lofty ship, with sails of silk so fair; "to hornelummer i must go, and see what's passing there." "o do not go," the seamen said, "to yonder fatal ground, where savage jutts, {f:5} and wicked elves, and demon sprites, abound." st. oluf climb'd the vessel's side; his courage nought could tame! "heave up, heave up the anchor straight; let's go in jesu's name. "the cross shall be my faulchion now-the book of god my shield; and, arm'd with them, i hope and trust to make the demons yield." and swift, as eagle cleaves the sky, the gallant vessel flew; direct for hornelummer's rock, through ocean's wavy blue. 't was early in the morning tide when she cast anchor there; and, lo! the jutt stood on the cliff, to breathe the morning air: his eyes were like the burning beal-his mouth was all awry; the truth i tell, and say he stood full twenty cubits high: his beard was like a horse's mane, and down his bosom roll'd; the claws that fenc'd his finger ends were frightful to behold. "i never yet have seen," he cried, "a ship come near my strand, that here to shore i could not drag, by putting out my hand." the good st. oluf smil'd thereat, and thus address'd his crew: "now hold your tongues, and well observe what i'm about to do." the giant stretch'd his mighty arm; the ship was nigh his own; but when st. oluf rais'd the cross, he sank knee-deep in stone. "here am i, sunk knee-deep in stone! my legs i cannot move; but, since my back and fists are free, my might thou yet shalt prove." "be still, be still, thou noisy guest-be still for evermore; become a rock and beetle there, above the billows hoar." up started then, from out the hill, the demon's hoary wife; she curs'd the king a thousand times, and brandish'd high her knife. sore wonder'd then the little elves, who sat within the hill, to see their mother, all at once, stand likewise stiff and still: "'t is done," they cried, "by yonder wight, who rides upon the waves; let's wade out to him, through the surf, and beat him with our staves." at hornelummer happen'd then, what happen'd ne'er before; the elfins wish'd to leave the hill, and could not find a door: they ran their heads against the wall, and tried to break it through; they could not break the solid rock, but broke their necks in lieu. now, thanks to god, and jesus christ, and good st. oluf's arm, to hornelummer we can sail without mishap or harm. the heroes of dovrefeld. from the old danish. on dovrefeld, {f:6} in norway, were once together seen the twelve heroic brothers of ingeborg, the queen: and they were all magicians, possest of mighty art, who freely read the runic, and knew the rhyme by heart. {f:7} the first could turn the lightning, and quench its ruddy gleam: the second, with a whisper, could still the running stream: the third beneath the water could dive like any fish: the fourth could get provision by striking on his dish: the fifth upon the gold harp so pleasantly could play, that all the men who heard him began to dance away: the sixth, he had a bugle, and when he blew a blast, the stoutest of his foemen would fly before him fast: the seventh, unimpeded, through solid hills could roam: the eighth could walk the ocean, when billows were in foam: the ninth could draw, by magic, the fishes from the deep: the tenth was never weary, nor overcome by sleep: the eleventh bound the dragon which crept among the grass; and all he wish'd to happen was sure to come to pass: the twelfth, who was reputed the wisest of the band, knew what was going forward in every foreign land. and now, forsooth, i tell ye, who listen to my strain, that such a set of brothers will ne'er be seen again. svend vonved. from the old danish. grimm, in the preface to his german translation of the kiaempe viser, characterizes this ballad in the following magnificent words:- "seltsam ist das lied von dem held vonved. unter dem empfang des zauberseegens und mit rathselhaften worten, dass er nie wiederkehre oder dann den tod seines vaters rachen musse, reitet er aus. lange sieht er keine stadt und keinen menschen, dann, wer sich ihm entgegen stelit, den wirft er nieder, den hirten legt er seine rathsel vor uber das edelste und abscheuungswurdigste, ubar den gang der sonne und die ruhe des todten: wer sie nicht iost, den erschlagt er; trotzig sitzt er unter den helden, ihre anerbietungen gefallen ihm nicht, er reitet heim, erschlagt zwolf zauberweiber, die ihm entgegen kommen, dann seine mutter, endlich zernichtet er auch sein saitenspiel, damit kein wohllaut mehr den wilden sinn besanftige. es scheint dieses lied vor allen in einer eigenen bedeutung gedichtet, und den mismuth eines zerstorten herumirrenden gemuths anzuzeigen, das seine rathsel will gelost haben: es ist die angst eines menschen darin ausgedruckt, der die flugel, die er fuhlt, nicht frei bewegen kann, und der, wenn ihn diese angst peinigt, gegen alles, auch gegen sein liebstes, wuthen muss. dieser charakter scheint dem norden gantz eigenthumlich; in dem seltsamen leben konigs sigurd des jerusalemfahrers, auch in shakspeare's hamlet ist etwas ahnliches." "singular is the song of the hero vonved. after having received the magic blessing, he rides out, darkly hinting that he must never return, or have avenged the death of his father. for a long time he sees no city and no man; he then overthrows whomsoever opposes him; he lays his enigmas before the herdsmen, concerning that which is most grand, and that which is most horrible; concerning the course of the sun and the repose of the dead; he who cannot explain them is slaughtered. haughtily he sits among the heroes--their invitations do not please him--he rides home--slays twelve sorceresses who come against him--then his mother, and at last he demolishes his harp, so that no sweet sound shall in future soften his wild humour. this song, more than any of the rest, seems to be composed with a meaning of its own; and shows the melancholy of a ruined, wandering mind, which will have its enigmas cleared up! the anguish of a man is expressed therein, who cannot move freely the wings which he feels; and, who, when this anguish torments him, is forced to deal out destruction against all--even against his best-beloved. such a character seems to be quite the property of the north. in the strange life of king sigurd, the wanderer to jerusalem, and likewise in shakspeare's hamlet, there is something similar." svend vonved sits in his lonely bower; he strikes his harp with a hand of power; his harp return'd a responsive din; then came his mother hurrying in: look out, look out, svend vonved. in came his mother adeline, and who was she, but a queen, so fine: "now hark, svend vonved! out must thou ride, and wage stout battle with knights of pride. look out, look out, svend vonved. "avenge thy father's untimely end; to me, or another, thy gold harp lend; this moment boune {f:8} thee, and straight begone! i rede {f:9} thee, do it, my own dear son." look out, look out, svend vonved. svend vonved binds his sword to his side; he fain will battle with knights of pride. "when may i look for thee once more here? when roast the heifer, and spice the beer?" look out, look out, svend vonved. "when stones shall take, of themselves, a flight, and ravens' feathers are woxen {f:10} white, then may'st thou expect svend vonved home: in all my days, i will never come." look out, look out, svend vonved. his mother took that in evil part: "i hear, young gallant, that mad thou art; wherever thou goest, on land or sea, disgrace and shame shall attend on thee." look out, look out, svend vonved. he kiss'd her thrice, with his lips of fire: "appease, o mother, appease thine ire; ne'er wish me any mischance to know, for thou canst not tell how far i may go." look out, look out, svend vonved. "then i will bless thee, this very day; thou never shalt perish in any fray; success shall be in thy courser tall; success in thyself, which is best of all. look out, look out, svend vonved. "success in thy hand, success in thy foot, in struggle with man, in battle with brute; the holy god and saint drotten {f:11} dear shall guide and watch thee through thy career. look out, look out, svend vonved. "they both shall take thee beneath their care, then surely thou never shalt evily fare: see yonder sword of steel so white, no helm nor shield shall resist its bite." look out, look out, svend vonved. svend vonved took up the word again-"i'll range the mountain, and rove the plain, peasant and noble i'll wound and slay; all, all, for my father's wrong shall pay." look out, look out, svend vonved. svend vonved bound his sword to his side, he fain will battle with knights of pride; so fierce and strange was his whole array, no mortal ventur'd to cross his way. look out, look out, svend vonved. his helm was blinking against the sun, his spurs were clinking his heels upon, . . . his horse was springing, with bridle ringing, while sat the warrior wildly singing. look out, look out, svend vonved. he rode a day, he rode for three, no town nor city he yet could see; "ha!" said the youth, "by my father's hand, there is no city in all this land." look out, look out, svend vonved. he rode and lilted, he rode and sang, then met he by chance sir thule vang; sir thule vang, with his twelve sons bold, all cas'd in iron, the bright and cold. look out, look out, svend vonved. svend vonved took his sword from his side, he fain would battle with knights so tried; the proud sir thule he first ran through, and then, in succession, his sons he slew. look out, look out, svend vonved. svend vonved binds his sword to his side, it lists him farther to ride, to ride; he rode along by the grene shaw; {f:12} the brute-carl {f:13} there with surprise he saw. look out, look out, svend vonved. a wild swine sat on his shoulders broad, upon his bosom a black bear snor'd; and about his fingers, with hair o'erhung, the squirrel sported, and weasel clung. look out, look out, svend vonved. "now, brute-carl, yield thy booty to me, or i will take it by force from thee. say, wilt thou quickly thy beasts forego, or venture with me to bandy a blow? look out, look out, svend vonved. "much rather, much rather, i'll fight with thee, than thou my booty should'st get from me; i never was bidden the like to do, since good king esmer in fight i slew." look out, look out, svend vonved. "and did'st thou slay king esmer fine? why, then thou slewest dear father mine; and soon, full soon, shalt thou pay for him, with the flesh hackt off from thy every limb!" look out, look out, svend vonved. they drew a circle upon the sward; they both were dour, as the rocks are hard; forsooth, i tell you, their hearts were steel'd,-the one to the other no jot would yield. look out, look out, svend vonved. they fought for a day,--they fought for two,-and so on the third they were fain to do; but ere the fourth day reach'd the night, the brute-carl fell, and was slain outright. look out, look out, svend vonved. svend vonved binds his sword to his side, farther and farther he lists to ride: he rode at the foot of a hill so steep, there saw he a herd as he drove the sheep. look out, look out, svend vonved. "now tell me, herd, and tell me fair, whose are the sheep thou art driving there? and what is rounder than a wheel? and where do they eat the holiest meal?" look out, look out, svend vonved. "where does the fish stand up in the flood? and where is the bird that's redder than blood? where do they mingle the best, best, wine? and where with his knights does vidrik dine?" look out, look out, svend vonved. there sat the herd, he sat in thought; to ne'er a question he answer'd aught. svend gave him a stroke, a stroke so sore, that his lung and his liver came out before. look out, look out, svend vonved. on, on went he, till more sheep he spied; the herd sat, too, by a deep pit's side. "now tell me, herd, and tell me fair, whose are the sheep thou art tending there?" look out, look out, svend vonved. "see yonder house, with turret and tower, there feasting serves to beguile the hour; there dwells a man, tygge nold by name, with his twelve fair sons, who are knights of fame." look out, look out, svend vonved. "enough, sir herd; now lend an ear-go, tell tygge nold to come out here." from his breast svend vonved a gold ring drew; at the foot of the herd the gold ring he threw. look out, look out, svend vonved. and as svend vonved approach'd the spot, his booty among them they 'gan to allot. some would have his polish'd glaive, others, his harness, or courser brave. look out, look out, svend vonved. svend vonved stops, in reflection deep; he thought it best he his horse should keep: his hauberk and faulchion he will not lose, much rather to fight the youth will choose. look out, look out, svend vonved. "had'st thou twelve sons to the twelve thou hast, and cam'st in the midst of them charging me fast, sooner should'st thou wring water from steel, than thou in such fashion with me should'st deal. look out, look out, svend vonved. he prick'd with his spur his courser tall, which sprang, at once, over the gate and wall. tygge nold there he has stretch'd in blood, and his twelve sons too, that beside him stood. look out, look out, svend vonved. then turn'd he his steed, in haste, about,-svend vonved, the knight, so youthful and stout; forward he went o'er mountain and moor, no mortal he met, which vex'd him sore. look out, look out, svend vonved. he came, at length, to another flock, where a herd sat combing his yellow lock: "now listen, herd, with the fleecy care; listen, and give me answers fair." look out, look out, svend vonved. "what is rounder than a wheel? where do they eat the holiest meal? where does the sun go down to his seat? and where do they lay the dead man's feet?" look out, look out, svend vonved. "what fills the valleys one and all? what is cloth'd best in the monarch's hall? what cries more loud than cranes can cry? and what can in whiteness the swan outvie? look out, look out, svend vonved. "who on his back his beard does wear? who 'neath his chin his nose does bear? what's more black than the blackest sloe? and what is swifter than a roe? look out, look out, svend vonved. "where is the bridge that is most broad? what is, by man, the most abhorr'd? where leads, where leads, the highest road up? and say, where the hottest of drink they sup." look out, look out, svend vonved. "the sun is rounder than a wheel. they eat at the altar the holiest meal. the sun in the west goes down to his seat: and they lay to the east the dead man's feet. look out, look out, svend vonved. "snow fills the valleys, one and all. man is cloth'd best in the monarch's hall. thunder cries louder than cranes can cry. angels in whiteness the swan outvie. look out, look out, svend vonved. "his beard on his back the lapwing wears. his nose 'neath his chin the elfin bears. {f:14} more black is sin than the blackest sloe: and thought is swifter than any roe. look out, look out, svend vonved. "ice is, of bridges, the bridge most broad. the toad is, of all things, the most abhorr'd. to paradise leads the highest road up: and in hell the hottest of drink they sup." look out, look out, svend vonved. "now hast thou given me answers fair, to each and all of my questions rare; and now, i pray thee, be my guide, to the nearest spot where warriors bide." look out, look out, svend vonved. "to sonderborg i'll show thee straight, where drink the heroes early and late: there thou wilt find of knights a crew, haughty of heart, and hard to subdue." look out, look out, svend vonved. with a bright gold ring was his arm array'd, full fifteen pounds that gold ring weigh'd, that has he given the herd, for a meed, because he will show him the knights with speed. look out, look out, svend vonved. svend vonved enter'd the castle yard; there randulph, wrapt in his skins, {f:15} kept guard: "ho! caitiff, ho! with shield and brand, what art thou doing in this my land?" look out, look out, svend vonved. "i will, i will, with my single hand, take from thee, knave, the whole of thy land: i will, i will, with my single toe, lay thee and each of thy castles low." look out, look out, svend vonved. "thou shalt not, with thy single hand, take from me, hound, an inch of my land; and far, far less, shalt thou, with thy toe, lay me or one of my castles low. look out, look out, svend vonved. "thou shalt not e'er, with finger of thine, strike asunder one limb of mine; {f:16} i am for thee too woxen and stark, as thou, to thy cost, shalt quickly mark." look out, look out, svend vonved. svend vonved unsheath'd his faulchion bright, with haughty randulph he fain will fight; randulph he there has slain in his might, and strandulph too, with full good right. look out, look out, svend vonved. the rest against him came out pell-mell, then slew he carl ege, the fierce and fell:-he slew the great, he slew the small; he slew till his foes were slaughter'd all. look out, look out, svend vonved. svend vonved binds his sword to his side, it lists him farther to ride, to ride; he found upon the desolate wold a burly {f:17} knight, of aspect bold. look out, look out, svend vonved. "now tell me, rider, noble and good, where does the fish stand up in the flood? where do they mingle the best, best wine? and where with his knights does vidrik dine?" look out, look out, svend vonved. "the fish in the east stands up in the flood. they drink in the north the wine so good. in halland's hall does vidrik dine, with his swains around, and his warriors fine." look out, look out, svend vonved. from his breast svend vonved a gold ring drew; at the foot of the knight the gold ring he threw: "go! say thou wert the very last man who gold from the hand of svend vonved wan." look out, look out, svend vonved. svend vonved came where the castle rose; he bade the watchmen the gate unclose: as none of the watchmen obey'd his cry, he sprang at once over the ramparts high. look out, look out, svend vonved. he tied his steed to a ring in the wall, then in he went to the wide stone hall; down he sat at the head of the board, to no one present he utter'd a word. look out, look out, svend vonved. he drank and he ate, he ate and he drank, he ask'd no leave, and return'd no thank; "ne'er have i been on christian ground where so many curst tongues were clanging round." look out, look out, svend vonved. king vidrik spoke to good knights three: "go, bind that lowering swain for me; should ye not bind the stranger guest, ye will not serve me as ye can best." look out, look out, svend vonved. "should'st thou send three, and twenty times three, and come thyself to lay hold of me; the son of a dog thou wilt still remain, and yet to bind me have tried in vain. look out, look out, svend vonved. "esmer, my father, who lies on his bier, and proud adeline, my mother so dear, oft and strictly have caution'd me to waste no breath upon hounds like thee." look out, look out, svend vonved. "and was king esmer thy father's name, and adeline that of his virtuous dame? thou art svend vonved, the stripling wild, my own dear sister's only child. look out, look out, svend vonved. "svend vonved, wilt thou bide with me here? honour awaits thee, and costly cheer; whenever it lists thee abroad to wend, upon thee shall knights and swains attend. look out, look out, svend vonved. "silver and gold thou never shalt lack, or helm to thy head, or mail to thy back;" but to this and the like he would lend no ear, and home to his mother he now will steer. look out, look out, svend vonved. svend vonved gallop'd along the way; to fancies dark was his mind a prey: riding he enter'd the castle yard where stood twelve witches wrinkled and scarr'd: look out, look out, svend vonved. there stood they all, with spindle and rok, {f:18}-each over the shinbone gave him a knock: svend turn'd his steed, in fury, round; the witches he there has hew'd to the ground. look out, look out, svend vonved. he hew'd the witches limb from limb, so little mercy they got from him; his mother came out, and was serv'd the same, into fifteen pieces he hackt her frame. look out, look out, svend vonved. then in he went to his lonely bower, there drank he the wine, the wine of power: his much-lov'd harp he play'd upon till the strings were broken, every one. look out, look out, svend vonved. the tournament. from the old danish. this is one of those ballads which, from the days of arild, have been much sung in denmark: we find in it the names and bearings of most of those renowned heroes, who are mentioned separately in other poems. it divides itself into two parts;--the first, which treats of the warrior's bearings, has a great resemblance to the 178th chapter of the vilkina saga, as likewise has the last part, wherein the duel is described, to the 180th and 181st chapters of the same. i cannot here forbear quoting and translating what anders sorensen vedel, the good old editor of the first edition of the kiaempe viser, which appeared in 1591, says concerning the apparently superhuman performances of the heroes therein celebrated. "hvad ellers kiaempernes storlemhed styrke og anden vilkaar berorer, som overgaaer de menneskers der nu leve deres vaext og kraft, det stykke kan ikke her noksom nu forhandles, men skal i den danske kronikes tredie bog videligere omtales. thi det jo i sandhed befindes og bevises af adskillige documenter og kundskab, at disse gamle hellede, som de kaldes, have levet fast laenger, og vaeret mandeligere storre staerkere og hoiere end den gemene mand er, som nu lever paa denne dag." "that part which relates to these warriors' size, strength, or other qualities, so far surpassing the stature and powers of the men who now exist, cannot be here sufficiently treated upon, but shall be further discussed in the third book of the danish chronicles: for, in truth, it is discovered and proved from various documents and sources, that these old heroes, as they are called, lived much longer, and were manlier, stouter, stronger, and taller, than man at the present day." six score there were, six score and ten, from hald that rode that day; and when they came to brattingsborg they pitch'd their pavilion gay. king nilaus stood on the turret's top, had all around in sight: "why hold those heroes their lives so cheap, that it lists them here to fight? "now, hear me, sivard snaresvend; far hast thou rov'd, and wide, those warriors' weapons thou shalt prove, to their tent thou must straightway ride." it was sivard snaresvend, to the broad tent speeded he then: "i greet ye fair, in my master's name, all, all, ye dane king's men. "now, be not wroth that here i come; i come as a warrior, free: the battle together we soon will prove; let me your bearings see." there stands upon the first good shield a lion, so fierce and stark, with a crown on his head, of the ruddy gold, that is king diderik's mark. there shine upon the second shield a hammer and pincers bright; them carries vidrik verlandson, ne'er gives he quarter in fight. there shines upon the third good shield a falcon, blazing with gold; and that by helled hogan is borne; no knight, than he, more bold. there shines upon the fourth good shield an eagle, and that is red; is borne by none but olger, the dane; he strikes his foemen dead. there shines upon the fifth good shield a couchant hawk, on a wall; that's borne by master hildebrand; he tries, with heroes, a fall. and now comes forth the sixth good shield a linden is thereupon; and that by young sir humble is borne, king abelon's eldest son. there shines upon the seventh good shield a spur, of a fashion so free; and that is borne by hogan, the less, because he will foremost be. there shines upon the eighth good shield a gray wolf, meagre and gaunt; is borne by youthful ulf van jern; beware how him you taunt! there shine upon the ninth good shield three arrows, and white are they; are borne by vidrik stageson, and trust that gallant you may. there shines upon the tenth good shield a fiddle, and 'neath it a bow; that's borne by folker spillemand; for drink he will sleep forego. there shines upon the eleventh shield a dragon that looks so dire; is carried by orm, the youthful swain; he trembles at no man's ire. and, now, behold the twelfth good shield, and upon it a burning brand; is borne by stout sir vifferlin through many a prince's land. there stands upon the thirteenth shield a sprig of the mournful yew; that's borne by harrald griskeson; and he's a comrade true. there stand upon the fourteenth shield a cloak, and a mighty staff; and them bore alsing, the stalwart monk, when he beat his foes to chaff. and now comes forth the fifteenth shield, and upon it three naked blades are borne by good king esmer's sons, in their wars and furious raids. there stands upon the sixteenth shield, with coal-black pinion, a crow; that's borne by rich count raadengaard; the dark runes well can he throw. {f:19} there shines upon the seventeenth shield a horse, so stately and high, is borne by count sir guncelin; "slay! slay! bide not," is his cry. there shine upon the eighteenth shield a man, and a fierce wild boar, are borne by the count of lidebierg; his blows fall heavy and sore. there shines upon the nineteenth shield a hound, at the stretch of his speed; is borne by oisten kiaempe, bold; he risks his neck without heed. there shines upon the twentieth shield, among branches, a rose, so gay; wherever sir nordman comes in war, he bears bright honour away. there shines on the one-and-twentieth shield a vase, and of copper 't is made; that's borne by mogan sir olgerson; he wins broad lands with his blade. and now comes forth the next good shield, with a sun dispelling the mirk; and that by asbiorn milde is borne; he sets the knights' backs at work. {f:20} there shines on the three-and-twentieth shield an arm, in a manacle bound; and that by alvor sir lange is borne, to the heroes he hands mead round. now comes the four-and-twentieth shield, and a bright sword there you see; and that by humble sir jerfing is borne; full worthy of that is he. there shines upon the next good shield a goss-hawk, striking his game; that's borne by a knight, the best of all- sir iver blaa is his name. now comes the six-and-twentieth shield, a jav'lin there you spy; is borne by little mimring tan; from no one will he fly. such knights and bearings as were there, and who can them all relate; it was sivard, the snaresvend; no longer he deign'd to wait. "if there be one of the dane king's men, who at dyst {f:21} is willing to ride, let him, i pray, without pause or delay, meet me by the wild wood's side. "the man among you, ye danish court men, who at dyst has won most meeds; him i am ready to fight, this day, for both of our noble steeds." the heroes cast the die on the board; the die it roll'd so wide: "since, young sir humble, it stops by thee, 'gainst sivard thou must ride." sir humble struck his hand on the board; no longer he lists to play: i tell you, forsooth, that the rosy hue from his cheek fast faded away. "now, hear me, vidrik verlandson; thou art so free a man; do lend me skimming, thy horse, this day; i'll pledge for him what i can: "eight good castles, in birting's land, as pledges for him i'll set; my sister too, the lily-cheek'd maid, a fairer thou ne'er hast met: "eight good castles, and eight good knights; i'd scorn to offer thee less: if skimming should meet any hurt this day, my sister thou shalt caress." "if yonder mountains all were gold, and yonder streams were wine; the whole for skimming i would not take; i bless god he is mine. "sivard is a purblind swain; sees not to his faulchion's end: if skimming were hurt thou couldst not pay me with the help of thy every friend. "the sword it whirls in sivard's hand, as whirl the sails of the mill; if thou take skimming 'gainst that wild fool, 't is sorely against my will." humble, he sat him on skimming's back, so gallantly can he ride; but skimming thought it passing strange that a spur was clapt to his side. the first course that together they rode, so strong were the knightly two, asunder went humble's saddle-ring, and a furlong his good shield flew. "methinks thou art a fair young swain, and well thy horse canst ride; dismount thee, straight, and gird up thy steed; i am willing for thee to bide." the second course that together they rode was worthy of knights renown'd; then both their saddles burst in two, and humble was sent to the ground. "now have i cast thee from thy steed, thy courser by right is mine; but, tell me, youthful and gallant swain, who art thou, and of what line? "now have i won from thee the prize, and skimming belongs to me; but, tell me, youthful and gallant swain, what parents gave birth to thee?" "abelon is my father's name; he sits upon birting's throne: queen ellina my mother is, and that for truth is known. "queen ellina my mother is- a queen whom all admire; good king abelon haardestaal, so call they my hoary sire. "and who am i, but humble, the young, a knight of birting's land; of hero race, whose fame extends to the wide earth's farthest strand." "if abelon be thy father's name, the courser i straight restore; thou art, i find, my very good friend; i knew thee not, youth, before. "if queen ellina thy mother is, then skimming thou hast rewon; thou art, indeed, my very good friend; thou art my sister's son. "take both the shield ropes, take them straight, and bind me to yon oak tree; then hie thee back to king diderik, and say thou hast conquer'd me." in came humble, the youthful knight, was clad in a kirtle, green; "o! i have got my courser again, and have bound the warrior keen." in came humble, with boot and spur, he cast on the table his sword: "sivard stands in the green wood bound, he speaks not a single word. "o, i have been to the wild forest, and have seiz'd the warrior stark; sivard there was taken by me, and tied to the oak's rough bark." "now hear me, young sir humble, the knight, 't is plain a jest is meant, whenever sivard was bound by thee, 't was done with his own consent." it was vidrik verlandson, and he would fain know all. "o, i will ride to the wood, and see how sivard endures his thrall." vidrik spoke to his burly groom: "go, saddle me skimming gray, for i will ride to the wood, and hear what sivard himself will say." sivard stands in the good green wood, there sees he vidrik ride: "if vidrik finds me bounden here, he'll hew my rib-bones from my side." then loud laugh'd vidrik verlandson, and skimming began to neigh, for sivard rooted the oak tree up; he dar'd no longer stay. the queen she sat in the high, high, loft, and thence look'd far and wide: "o there comes sivard snaresvend, with a stately oak at his side." then loud laugh'd fair queen gloriant, as she look'd on sivard full: "thou wert, no doubt, in great, great need, when thou such flowers didst pull." the king he stood at the castle gate, in his robes and kingly crown: "o there comes sivard snaresvend, and he brings us summer to town."{f:22} now dance the heroes by brattingsborg; they dance in their coats of felt; there dances sivard, the purblind swain, with an oak tree under his belt. vidrik verlandson. from the old danish. king diderik sits in the halls of bern, and he boasts of his deeds of might; so many a swain in battle he's fell'd, and taken so many a knight. king diderik sits in the halls of bern, and he strikes his moony shield; "o, would that i knew of a hero now, 'gainst whom i could take the field." then answer'd master hildebrand, (for he knew all things best,) "there sleeps a giant at birtingsberg; dar'st thou disturb his rest?" "now, hear me, master hildebrand; thou art huge in body and limb; thou foremost shall ride, in the wood, this day, and bear our challenge to him." then answer'd master hildebrand, so careful a knight was he; "not so, my lord, will i do, this day, for the wages delight not me." then out spoke vidrik verlandson, and he spoke in wrathful mood; "o, i'll be first of the band, this day, all through the birting wood." then out spoke vidrik verlandson, and he spoke with lofty pride; "the smith he forg'd me a faulchion good, that can steel, like cloth, divide." they were three hundred valorous knights, unto birting's land that rode; they go in quest of langben the jutt, to the gloomy wood, his abode. then out spoke vidrik verlandson; "a wondrous game we'll play; for i will ride in the green wood first, if ye'll but trust me away." then answer'd bold king diderik, he answer'd hastily then; "when thou therein shalt have found the jutt come back for me and my men." it was vidrik verlandson, in the forest alone he sped; and there he found so little a way, which up to the giant led. it was vidrik verlandson, he came unto birting's hill; there black and dread lay langben the jutt, he lay stretch'd out, and still. it was vidrik verlandson, with his lance touch'd him on the knee; "wake up! wake up! now langben the jutt, thou sleepest full sound, i see." "here have i lain, for many a year, 'mid the leaf and the dew-wet herb; but never, till now, came a warrior by, that has dar'd my sleep to disturb." "here stand i, vidrik verlandson, with a sword, so good, at my side; i came to wake thee up from thy sleep, betide whatever betide." it was langben the giant, then, turn'd up the white of his eye; "o, whence can come this warrior youth, who such bold words lets fly? "but hear, but hear, thou warrior youth; i will not do battle with thee, except thou prove of a knightly race; so thy lineage tell to me." "a handsome smith my father was, and verland hight was he: bodild they call'd my mother fair; queen over countries three: "skimming i call my noble steed, begot from the wild sea-mare: blank {f:23} do i call my haughty helm, because it glitters so fair: "skrepping i call my good thick shield; steel shafts have furrow'd it o'er: mimmering have i nam'd my sword; 't is harden'd in heroes' gore: "and i am vidrik verlandson; for clothes bright iron i wear: stand'st thou not up on thy long, long legs, i'll pin thee down to thy lair: "do thou stand up on thy long, long legs, nor look so dogged and grim; the king holds out before the wood; thou shalt yield thy treasure to him." "all, all the gold that i possess, i will keep with great renown; i'll yield it at no little horse-boy's word, to the best king wearing a crown." "so young and little as here i seem, thou shalt find me prompt in a fray; i'll hew the head from thy shoulders off, and thy much gold bear away." it was langben the mighty jutt, with fury his heart was fir'd; "ride hence! ride hence! thou warrior youth, if of life thou be not tir'd." skimming sprang up, with both his legs, against the giant's side asunder went five of his rib-bones then, and the fight began at that tide. it was langben the lofty jutt, he wav'd his steel mace round; he sent a blow after vidrik; but the mace struck deep in the ground. it was langben the lofty jutt, who had thought his foeman to slay, but the blow fell short of vidrik; for the good horse bore him away. it was langben the lofty jutt, that shouted in wild despair: "now lies my mace in the hillock fast, as though 't were hammer'd in there!" vidrik paus'd no moment's space; so ready was he to assail: "upon him, skimming, upon him once more! now, mimmering, now prevail!" he seiz'd his sword in both his hands, unto langben giant he flew; he struck him so hard in the hairy breast, that the point his lungs went through. now langben giant has got a wound, and he's waken'd thoroughly now; so gladly would he have paid it back, but, alas! he knew not how. "accursed be thou, young vidrik! and accurs'd thy piercing steel! thou hast given me, see, a wound in my breast, whence rise the pains i feel." "i'll hew thee, giant, i'll hew thee as small as leaves that are borne on the blast, except thou showest me all the gear, that hid in the forest thou hast." "forbear, o vidrik verlandson, strike me not cruelly dead! and i will lead thee straight to my house, that's thatch'd with gold so red." vidrik rode, and the giant crept, so far through the forest ways, they found the house with the red gold thatch'd; it glitter'd like straw in a blaze. "therein, therein are heaps of gold, no king has a greater store; do thou remove the big black stone, and lift from the hinges the door." with both hands vidrik seiz'd the stone, but to stir it in vain did he try; the giant took it with finger and thumb, and lifted it up in the sky. "now hear, now hear, thou warrior youth, thou canst wheel thy courser about; but in every feat of manly strength i could beat thee out and out." then answer'd vidrik verlandson, (he fear'd for himself some ill) "'t is not the custom of any wise man his strength on a stone to spill." "therein, therein is much more gold than fifteen kings can show; hear me, vidrik verlandson, thou therein first shalt go." then answer'd vidrik verlandson, (for his cunning intent he saw) "thou shalt lead the way into thine own house, for that is warrior-law." it was langben the giant then, to the door he stoop'd down low: it was vidrik verlandson cleft off his head at a blow. away the quivering body he drew, and propp'd it against an oak; then back he rode the long, long way, he's thought of a wondrous joke. with giant's blood he besmear'd himself, and besmear'd his steed all o'er; then back he rides to king diderik, pretends to be wounded sore. "here bide ye in peace, my companions good, all under the grass-green hill; langben the giant has smote me to day, i doubt i shall fare but ill." "if thou from the giant hast got a blow, thy life must be nigh its close; we'll ride swift back to the halls of bern, no man more will we lose." "now wend thee, bold king diderik, wend into the wood with me; and all the gold that the giant had, that will i show to thee." "if thou hast slain the giant this day, 't will far be blaz'd in the land; and the warrior lives not in this world, 'gainst whom thou may'st fear to stand." but what befel king diderik's men? when the giant they first perceiv'd, they all stopp'd short, in the good green wood, of courage at once bereav'd. they thought the giant verily would that moment after them stride: not one of them all would have battled with him; back would they all have hied. it was vidrik verlandson, he laugh'd at their craven fear: "how would ye have fac'd him when alive, ye dare not him, dead, go near? with his lance's haft the body he push'd, the head came toppling down: that the giant was a warrior stark, forsooth, i am forc'd to own. out took they then his ruddy gold, and shar'd it amongst the band: to vidrik came the largest part, for 't was earn'd with his good hand. little car'd he for the booty, i ween, but he thought of his meed of fame; when men should say, in the danish land, that the giant he overcame. so gladly rode they to bern again; king diderik gladdest of all: there caus'd he vidrik verlandson to sit next him in the hall. elvir hill. from the old danish. upon this ballad oehlenslaeger founded his "elvir shades," a translation of which has already been given. i rested my head upon elvir hill's side, and my eyes were beginning to slumber; that moment there rose up before me two maids, whose charms would take ages to number. one patted my face, and the other exclaim'd, while loading my cheek with her kisses, "rise, rise, for to dance with you here we have sped from the undermost caves and abysses. "rise, fair-headed swain, and refuse not to dance; and i and my sister will sing thee the loveliest ditties that ever were heard, and the prettiest presents will bring thee." then both of them sang so delightful a song, that the boisterous river before us stood suddenly quiet and placid, as though 't were afraid to disturb the sweet chorus. the boisterous stream stood suddenly still, though accustom'd to foam and to bellow; and, fearless, the trout play'd along with the pike, and the pike play'd with him as his fellow. the fishes, whose dwelling was deep in the flood, up, up from their caverns did sally; the gay little birds of the forest began to warble, forthwith, in the valley. "now, listen thou fair-headed swain, and if thou wilt stand up and dance for a minute, we'll teach thee to open the sorcerer's book, and to read all the runic that's in it. "the bear and the wolf thou shalt trammel, unto the thick stem of the oak, at thy pleasure; before thee the dragon shall fly from his nest, and shall leave thee sole lord of his treasure." then about and around on the moonlight hill, in their fairy fashion they sported, while unmov'd sat the gallant and fair young swain, whom they, in their wantonness, courted. "and wilt thou not grant us our civil request, proud stripling, and wilt thou deny it? by hell's ruddy blazes, our gold-handled knife shall lay thee for ever in quiet." and if my good luck had not manag'd it so, that the cock crew out, then, in the distance, i should have been murder'd by them, on the hill, without power to offer resistance. 't is therefore i counsel each young danish swain, who may ride in the forest so dreary, ne'er to lay down upon lone elvir hill though he chance to be ever so weary. waldemar's chase. the following ballad is merely a versification of one of the many feats of waldemar, the famed phantom hunter of the north, an account of whom, and of palnatoka and groon the jutt, both spectres of a similar character, may be found in thiele's danske folkesagn. late at eve they were toiling on harribee bank, for in harvest men ne'er should be idle: towards them rode waldemar, meagre and lank, and he linger'd and drew up his bridle. "success to your labour; and have ye to night seen any thing pass ye, while reaping?" "yes, yes;" said a peasant, "i saw something white, just now, through the corn-stubble creeping." "which way did it go?" "why methought to the beach." then off went waldemar bounding; a few minutes after, they heard a faint screech, and the horn of the hunter resounding. then back came he, laughing in horrible tone, and the blood in their veins ran the colder, when they saw that a fresh-slaughter'd mermaid was thrown athwart his proud barb's dappled shoulder. said he, "i have chas'd her for seven score years, as she landed to drink at the fountains." no more did he deign to their terrified ears, but gallop'd away to the mountains. the merman. from the old danish. "do thou, dear mother, contrive amain how marsk stig's daughter i may gain." she made him, of water, a noble steed, whose trappings were form'd from rush and reed. to a young knight chang'd she then her son; to mary's church at full speed he's gone. his foaming horse to the gate he bound, and pac'd the church full three times round: when in he walk'd with his plume on high, the dead men gave from their tombs a sigh: the priest heard that, and he clos'd his book; "methinks yon knight has a strange wild look." then laugh'd the maiden beneath her sleeve; "if he were my husband i should not grieve." he stepp'd over benches one and two: "o, marsk stig's daughter, i doat on you." he stepp'd over benches two and three: "o, marsk stig's daughter, come home with me." then said the maid, without more ado, "here take my troth, i will go with you." they went from the church a bridal train, and danc'd so gaily across the plain; they danc'd till they came to the strand, and then they were forsaken by maids and men. "now, marsk stig's daughter, sit down and rest; to build a boat i will do my best." he built a boat of the whitest sand, and away they went from the smiling land; but when they had cross'd the ninth green wave, down sunk the boat to the ocean cave! i caution ye, maids, as well as i can, ne'er give your troth to an unknown man. the deceived merman. from the old danish. fair agnes alone on the sea-shore stood, then rose a merman from out the flood: "now, agnes, hear what i say to thee, wilt thou my leman consent to be?" "o, freely that will i become, if thou but take me beneath the foam." he stopp'd her ears, and he stopp'd her eyes, and into the ocean he took his prize. the merman's leman was agnes there,-she bore him sons and daughters fair: one day by the cradle she sat and sang, then heard she above how the church bells rang: she went to the merman, and kiss'd his brow; "once more to church i would gladly go." "and thou to church once more shalt go, but come to thy babes back here below." he flung his arm her body around, and he lifted her up unto england's ground. fair agnes in at the church door stepp'd, behind her mother, who sorely wept. "o agnes, agnes, daughter dear! where hast thou been this many a year?" "o, i have been deep, deep under the sea, and liv'd with the merman in love and glee." "and what for thy honour did he give thee, when he made thee his leman beneath the sea?" "he gave me silver, he gave me gold, and sprigs of coral my hair to hold." the merman up to the church door came; his eyes they shone like a yellow flame; his face was white, and his beard was green-a fairer demon was never seen. "now, agnes, agnes, list to me, thy babes are longing so after thee." "i cannot come yet, here must i stay until the priest shall have said his say." and when the priest had said his say, she thought with her mother at home she'd stay. "o agnes, agnes, list to me, thy babes are sorrowing after thee." "let them sorrow, and sorrow their fill, but back to them never return i will." "think on them, agnes, think on them all; think on the great one, think on the small." "little, o little, care i for them all, or for the great one, or for the small." o, bitterly then did the merman weep; he hied him back to the foamy deep: but, often his shrieks and mournful cries, at midnight's hour, from thence arise. miscellanies. cantata. this is denmark's holyday; dance, ye maidens! sing, ye men! tune, ye harpers! blush, ye heroes! this is denmark's holyday. one voice. in right's enjoyment, in the arm of love, beneath the olive's shadow, the daneman sat; whilst wet and steaming wav'd the bloody flag above the regions of the sunny south. pure was our heaven,-pure and blue; for, with his pinions, angel peace dispell'd all reek and vapour from mild virtue's sphere; then lower'd battle's blood-bespatter'd son upon our coast,-and haggard envy lent to him her torch, which sparkled high with hell's sulphureous light, then fled the genius of peace, and wept. a second voice. but mighty thunders peal'd; the earth it shook, while rattled all the moss-grown giant stones, {f:24} and oldom's sunken grave-hill rais'd itself; then started skiold and frode, and svend, and knud, and waldemar, {f:25} in copper hauberks up, and pointing to rust-spots of blood on faulchion and on shield-they vanish'd: and in the gothic aisles, high arch'd and dim, wild flutter'd of itself, the ancient banner which hung above a hero's bones; the faulchion clatter'd loud and ceaselessly within the tomb of christian the fourth, {f:26} by tordenskiold's {f:27} chapel on the strand, wild rose the daring mermaid's witching song; the stones were loosen'd round about the grave where lay great juul; and hvidtfeld, clad in a transparent mist, with smiles cherubic beaming on his face, stray'd, arm in arm, with his heroic brothers, along the deep. chorus. we felt the presence of one and all; the old flags wav'd in the arsenal, a wondrous spirit went round, went round the northern ground. one voice. then waken'd thor, {f:28} and drew around his loins the mighty belt of bear-sinews; with love fraternal harden'd he his shield, with eager haste he sharp'd his blunted glaive, and, with the iron of his hammer, touch'd each dane's and every norman's breast-shot his heroic flame therein, and smil'd! many voices. and denmark and norway smil'd. loud chorus. upon the water, upon the land, we boun'd for slaughter, at thor's command. maidens. then fell our tears so quickly, we breath'd, we breath'd so thickly, while scarce our lips could stammer forth prayers for you, and for the north. matrons. and we, and we, with breasts that smarted, knelt, lowly knelt, whilst firm ye stood, from us and from affection parted, in reek and smoke, in brothers' blood! chorus of men. tenderness comes from god; woman and man in its praise should sing; but tenderness flies at honour's nod; we offer all up to our land and king. one voice. what sang ye, warlike throngs? repeat, repeat this day, one of the simple, nervous, songs ye murmur'd out, when, hot with wrongs, ye waited the coming fray. universal chorus. we love, we all love thee, beneficent peace, &c. solo. like the wave of the wild north main, foaming and frothing came on our foe; proud of his triumphs, proud of his train, he thought to lay us low: but, from denmark's lines of oak, a horrible, horrible volley outbroke; then tumbled his mast, his courage fell fast; and the wave, which resembled his furious mood, was now with his blood embrued. chorus. this is denmark's holyday; dance, ye maidens! sing, ye men! tune, ye harpers! blush, ye heroes! this is denmark's holyday. a voice. but, hark! what sobbing and what mournful notes are mixing with our hymns of ardent joy! hush, hush, be still; a band of white-rob'd maids approaches slow, with lily chaplets round their yellow locks, with heavy tear-drops in their sunken eye; broken and trembling sounds the melancholy song, accompanied by harp-tones rising mild. youthful maidens. love, with rosy fetter, held us firmly bound; pure unmix'd enjoyment grateful here we found. bosom, bosom meeting, 'gainst our youths we press'd; bright the moon arose, then, glad to see us blest. denmark's honour beckon'd, loud the canon roar'd; perish'd in the battle they whom we ador'd. sweet is, grave, thy slumber, free from care and noise; short are earthly sorrows,- endless heaven's joys. sudden chorus of the slain warriors is heard from on high. from the heavenly, clear, invisible, home our voices come: no joy can resemble the joy which reigns in our seraph veins. lov'd ones, lov'd ones, weep for us not, soon shall ye here partake of our lot; high o'er the stars' extremest line the sun of affection more bright shall shine: brothers, brothers, 't is sweet to die for the land of our birth, and the maid of our eye. blest are ye who like us shall fall; the righteous jehovah rewards, above, courage and love: hallelujah, peace be with you all! the hail-storm. from the norse. sigvald jarl was a famous sea rover, who, when unengaged in his predatory expeditions, resided at jomsborg, in denmark. he was the terror of the norwegian coasts, which he ravaged and pillaged almost at his pleasure. hacon jarl, who at that time sat on the norwegian throne, being informed that sigvald meditated a grand descent, and knowing that he himself was unable to oppose him, had recourse to his god, thorgerd, to whom he sacrificed his son erling. in what manner thorgerd assisted him and his forces, when the danes landed, will best be learned from the bold song which the circumstance gave rise to, and which the following is a feeble attempt to translate. when from our ships we bounded, i heard, with fear astounded, the storm of thorgerd's waking, from northern vapours breaking; with flinty masses blended, gigantic hail descended, and thick and fiercely rattled against us there embattled. to aid the hostile maces, it drifted in our faces; it drifted, dealing slaughter, and blood ran out like water-ran reeking, red, and horrid, from batter'd cheek and forehead; we plied our swords, but no men can stand 'gainst hail and foemen. and demon thorgerd raging to see us still engaging, shot, downward from the heaven, his shafts of flaming levin; then sank our brave in numbers, to cold eternal slumbers; there lay the good and gallant, renown'd for warlike talent. our captain, this perceiving, the signal made for leaving, and with his ship departed, downcast and broken-hearted; war, death, and consternation, pursu'd our embarkation; we did our best, but no men can stand 'gainst hail and foemen. the elder-witch. according to the danish tradition, there is a female elf in the elder tree, which she leaves every midnight; and, having strolled among the fields, returns to it before morning. though tall the oak, and firm its stem, though far abroad its boughs are spread, though high the poplar lifts its head, i have no song for them. a theme more bright, more bright would be the winsome, winsome elder tree, beneath whose shade i sit reclin'd;- it holds a witch within its bark, a lovely witch who haunts the dark, and fills with love my mind. when ghosts, at midnight, leave their graves, and rous'd is every phantom thing; when mermaids rise and sweetly sing in concert with the waves; when palnatoka, {f:29} on his steed, pursues the elves across the mead, or gallops, gallops o'er the sea, the witch within the elder's bark, the lovely witch who haunts the dark, comes out, comes out to me. of leaves the fairies make our bed; the knight, who moulders 'neath the elm, {f:30} starts up with spear and rusted helm,-by him the grace is said; and though her kiss is cold at times, and does not scent of earthly climes, though glaring is her eye, yet still the witch within the elder's bark, the lovely witch who haunts the dark, i prize, and ever will. yet, once i lov'd a mortal maid, and gaz'd, enraptur'd, on her charms, oft circled in each other's arms, together, here we stray'd;- but, soon, she found a fairer youth, and i a fairer maid, forsooth! and one more true, more true to me, the witch within the elder's bark, the lovely witch who haunts the dark, has been more true to me. ode. from the gaelic. "is luaimnach mo chodal an nochd." oh restless, to night, are my slumbers; life yet i retain, but not gladness; my heart in my bosom is wither'd, and sorrow sits heavy upon me. for cold, in her grave-hill, is lying the maid whom i gaz'd on, so fondly, whose teeth were like chalk from the quarry, whose voice was more sweet than harp music. like foam that subsides on the water, just where the wild swan has been playing; like snow, by the sunny beam melted, my love, thou wert gone on a sudden. salt tears i let fall in abundance, when memory bringeth before me that eye, like the placid blue heaven; that cheek, like the rose in its glory. sweet object of warmest affection, why could not thy beauty protect thee? why, sparing so many a thistle, did death cut so lovely a blossom? here pine i, forlorn and abandon'd, where once i was cheerful and merry: no joy shall e'er shine on my visage, until my last hour's arrival. o, like the top grain on the corn-ear, or, like the young pine, 'mong the bushes; or, like the moon, 'mong the stars shining, wert thou, o my love, amongst women! bear song. from the danish of evald. the squirrel that's sporting amid the green leaves, full oft, with its rustle, the hunter deceives; who starts--and believing that booty is nigh, his heart, for a moment, with pleasure beats high. "now, courage!" he mutters, and crouching below a thunder-split linden, he waits for his foe: "ha! joy to the hunter; a monstrous bear e'en now is approaching, and bids me prepare. "hark! hark! for the monarch of forests, ere long, will breathe out his bellow, deep-throated and strong:" thus saying, he gazes intently around; but, death to his wishes! can hear not a sound: except when, at moments, the wind rising shrill wafts boughs from the bushes, across the lone hill. wo worth, to thee, squirrel, amid the green leaves, full oft thy loud rustle the hunter deceives. national song. from the danish of evald. king christian stood beside the mast; smoke, mixt with flame, hung o'er his guns, that rattled fast against the gothmen, as they pass'd: then sunk each hostile sail and mast in smoke and flame. "fly!" said the foe: "fly! all that can, nor wage, with denmark's christian, the dread, unequal game." niels juul look'd out, and loudly cried, "quick! now's the time:" he hoisted up his banner wide, and fore and aft his foemen plied; and loud above the battle cried, "quick! now's the time." "fly!" said the foe, "'t is fortune's rule, to deck the head of denmark's juul with glory's wreath sublime." once, baltic, when the musket's knell rang through the sky, down to thy bosom heroes fell and gasp'd amid the stormy swell; while, from the shore, a piercing yell rang through the sky! "god aids me," cried our tordenskiold; "proud foes, ye are but vainly bold; strike, strike, to me, or fly!" thou danish path to fame and might, dark-rolling wave, receive a friend who holds as light the perils of the stormy fight; who braves, like thee, the tempest's might; dark rolling wave, o swiftly bear my bark along, till, crown'd with conquest, lull'd with song, i reach my bourne--the grave. the old oak. here have i stood, the pride of the park, in winter with snow on my frozen bark; in spring 'mong the flowers that smiling she spread, and among my own leaves when summer was fled. three hundred years my top i have rais'd, three hundred years i have sadly gaz'd o'er nature's wide extended scene; o'er rushing rivers and meadows green, for though i was always willing to rove, i never could yet my firm foot move. they fell'd my brother, who stood by my side, and flung out his arms so wide, so wide; how envy i him, for how blest is he, as the keel of a vessel he sails so free around the whole of the monstrous earth; but i am still in the place of my birth. i once was too haughty by far to complain, but am become feeble through age and pain; and therefore i often give vent to my woes, when through my branches the wild wind blows. a night like this, so calm and clear, i have not seen for many a year; the milk-white doe and her tender fawn are skipping about on the moonlight lawn; and there, on the verge of my time-worn root, two lovers are seated, and both are mute: her arm encircles his youthful neck, for none are present their love to check. this night would almost my sad heart cheer, had i one hope or one single fear. lines to six-foot three. a lad, who twenty tongues can talk and sixty miles a day can walk; drink at a draught a pint of rum, and then be neither sick nor dumb can tune a song, and make a verse, and deeds of northern kings rehearse who never will forsake his friend, while he his bony fist can bend; and, though averse to brawl and strife will fight a dutchman with a knife. o that is just the lad for me, and such is honest six-foot three. a braver being ne'er had birth since god first kneaded man from earth: o, i have cause to know him well, as ferroe's blacken'd rocks can tell. who was it did, at suderoe, the deed no other dar'd to do? who was it, when the boff {f:31} had burst, and whelm'd me in its womb accurst-who was it dash'd amid the wave, with frantic zeal, my life to save? who was it flung the rope to me? o, who, but honest six-foot three! who was it taught my willing tongue, the songs that braga {f:32} fram'd and sung? who was it op'd to me the store of dark unearthly runic lore, and taught me to beguile my time with denmark's aged and witching rhyme: to rest in thought in elvir shades, and hear the song of fairy maids; or climb the top of dovrefeld, where magic knights their muster held? who was it did all this for me? o, who, but honest six-foot three! wherever fate shall bid me roam, far, far from social joy and home; 'mid burning afric's desert sands, or wild kamschatka's frozen lands; bit by the poison-loaded breeze, or blasts which clog with ice the seas; in lowly cot or lordly hall, in beggar's rags or robes of pall, 'mong robber-bands or honest men, in crowded town or forest den, i never will unmindful be of what i owe to six-foot three. that form which moves with giant-grace; that wild, though not unhandsome, face; that voice which sometimes in its tone is softer than the wood-dove's moan, at others, louder than the storm which beats the side of old cairn gorm; {f:33} that hand, as white as falling snow, which yet can fell the stoutest foe; and, last of all, that noble heart, which ne'er from honour's path would start, shall never be forgot by me-so farewell, honest six-foot three! nature's temperaments. from the danish of oehlenslaeger. sadness. lo, a pallid fleecy vapour far along the east is spread; every star has quench'd its taper, lately glimmering over head. on the leaves, that bend so lowly, drops of crystal water gleam; yawning wide, the peasant slowly drives afield his sluggish team. dreary looks the forest, lacking song of birds that slumber mute; no rough swain is yet attacking, with his bill, the beech's root. night's terrific ghostly hour backward through time's circle flies; no shrill clock from moss-grown tower bids the dead men wake and rise. wearied out with midnight riot mystic nature slumbers now; mouldering bodies rest in quiet, 'neath their tomb-lids damp and low; sad and chill the wind is sighing through the reeds that skirt the pool, all around looks dead or dying, wrapt in sorrow, clad in dool. glee. roseate colours on heaven's high arch are beginning to mix with the blue and the gray, sol now commences his wonderful march, and the forests' wing'd denizens sing from the spray. gaily the rose is seen to unclose each of her leaves to the brightening ray. waves on the lake rise, sparkle, and break: o venus, o venus, thy shrine is prepar'd, far down in the valley o'erhung by the grove; where, all the day, philomel warbles, unscar'd, her silver-ton'd ditty of pleasure and love. innocence smiling out-carrols the lark, and the bosom of guilt becomes tranquil again; nightmares and visions, the fiends of the dark, have abandon'd the blood and have flown from the brain. higher the sun up heaven has run, beaming so fierce that we feel him with pain; man, herb, and flower, droop under his power. o venus, o venus, thy shrine is prepar'd, far down in the valley o'erhung by the grove where, all the day, philomel warbles, unscar'd, her silver-ton'd ditty of pleasure and love. madness. what darkens, what darkens?--'t is heaven's high roof: what lightens?--'t is heckla's flame, shooting aloof: the proud, the majestic, the rugged old thor, the mightiest giant the north ever saw, transform'd to a mountain, stands there in the field, with ice for his corslet, and rock for his shield; with thunder for voice, and with fire for tongue, he stands there, so frightful, with vapour o'erhung. on that other side of the boisterous sea black vulcan, as haughty as ever was he, stands, chang'd to a mountain, call'd etna by name, which belches continually oceans of flame. much blood have they spilt, and much harm have they done, for both, when the ancient religions were gone, combin'd their wild strength to destroy the new race, who were boldly beginning their shrines to deface. o, jesus of nazareth, draw forth the blade of vengeance, and speed to thy worshippers' aid; beat down the old gods, cut asunder their mail-amen!--brother christians, why look ye so pale. the violet-gatherer. from the danish of oehlenslaeger. pale the moon her light was shedding o'er the landscape far and wide; calmly bright, all ills undreading, emma wander'd by my side. night's sad birds their harsh notes utter'd, perching low among the trees; emma's milk-white kirtle flutter'd graceful in the rising breeze: then, in sweetness more than mortal, sang a voice a plaintive air, as we pass'd the church's portal, lo, a ghostly form stood there! "emma, come, thy mother's calling; lone i lie in night and gloom, whilst the sun and moon-beams, falling, glance upon my marble tomb." emma star'd upon the figure,- wish'd to speak, but vainly tried, press'd my hand with loving vigour, trembled--faulter'd--gasp'd--and died! home i bore my luckless maiden, home i bore her in despair; chilly blasts, with night-dew laden, rustled through her streaming hair. plunging then amid the forest, soon i found the stately tree, under which, when heat was sorest, she was wont to sit with me. down my cheek ran tears in fever, while with axe its stem i cut; soon it fell, and i with lever roll'd it straight to emma's hut. kiss'd her oft, and love empassion'd sung a song in wildest tones; while the oaken boards i fashion'd, doom'd to hide her lovely bones. thereupon i sought the bower, where she kept her single hive; morning shone on tree and flower, all around me look'd alive. stung by bees in thousand places, out i took the yellow comb; emma, deck'd in all her graces, past my vision seem'd to roam. soon of wax i form'd a taper, o'er my love it cast its ray, 'till the night came, clad in vapour, when in grave i laid her clay. deep below me sank the coffin, while my tears fell fast as rain; deep it sank, and i, full often, thought to heave it up again. soon as e'er the stars, so merry, heaven's arch next night illum'd, sad i sought the cemetery, where my true love lay entomb'd. then, in sweetness more than mortal, sang a voice a plaintive lay; underneath the church's portal emma stood in death array. "louis! come! thy love is calling; lone i lie in night and gloom, whilst the sun and moon beams, falling, glance upon my lowly tomb." "emma! dear!" i cried in gladness, "take me too beneath the sod; leave me not to pine in sadness, here on earth's detested clod." "death should only strike the hoary, yet, my louis, thou shalt die, when the stars again in glory, shine upon the midnight sky." tears bedeck'd her long eyelashes, while she kiss'd my features wan; then, like flame that dies o'er ashes, all at once the maid was gone. therefore, pluck i painted violets, which shall strew my lifeless clay, when, to night, the stars have call'd me unto joys that last for aye. ode to a mountain-torrent. from the german of stolberg. how lovely art thou in thy tresses of foam, and yet the warm blood in my bosom grows chill, when yelling thou rollest thee down from thy home, 'mid the boom of the echoing forest and hill. the pine-trees are shaken--they yield to thy shocks, and spread their vast ruin wide over the ground, the rocks fly before thee--thou seizest the rocks, and whirl'st them like pebbles contemptuously round. the sun-beams have cloth'd thee in glorious dyes, they streak with the tints of the heavenly bow those hovering columns of vapour that rise forth from the bubbling cauldron below. but why art thou seeking the ocean's dark brine? if grandeur makes happiness, sure it is found, when forth from the depths of the rock-girdled mine thou boundest, and all gives response to thy sound. beware thee, o torrent, of yonder dark sea, for there thou must crouch beneath tyranny's rod, here thou art lonely, and lovely, and free,- loud as a thunder-peal, strong as a god. true, it is pleasant, at eve or at noon, to gaze on the sea and its far-winding bays, when ting'd with the light of the wandering moon, or red with the gold of the midsummer rays. but, torrent, what is it? what is it?--behold that lustre as nought but a bait and a snare, what is the summer sun's purple and gold to him who breathes not in pure freedom the air. abandon, abandon, thy headlong career- but downward thou rushest--my words are in vain, bethink thee that oft-changing winds domineer on the billowy breast of the time-serving main. then haste not, o torrent, to yonder dark sea, for there thou must crouch beneath tyranny's rod; here thou art lonely, and lovely, and free,- loud as a thunder-peal, strong as a god. runic verses. o the force of runic verses, o the mighty strength of song cannot baffle all the curses which to mortal state belong. slaughter'd chiefs, that buried under heaps of marble, long have lain, song can rend your tomb asunder, give ye life and strength again. when around his dying capture, fierce, the serpent draws his fold, song can make him, wild with rapture, straight uncoil, and bite the mould. when from keep and battled tower, flames to heaven upward strain, song has o'er them greater power, than the vapours dropping rain. it can quench the conflagration striding o'er the works of art; but nor song nor incantation can appease love's cruel smart. o the force of runic verses, o the mighty strength of song cannot baffle all the curses which to mortal state belong. thoughts on death. from the swedish of c. lohman. perhaps 't is folly, but still i feel my heart-strings quiver, my senses reel, thinking how like a fast stream we range nearer and nearer to yon dread change, when soul and spirit filter away, and leave nothing better than senseless clay. yield, beauty, yield; for the grave does gape, and horribly alter'd reflects thy shape,-for ah! think not those childish charms will rest unrifled in its cold arms, and think not there, that the rose of love will bloom on thy features as here above. let him who roams at vanity fair, in robes that rival the tulip's glare, think on the chaplet of leaves which round his fading forehead will soon be bound; think on each dirge the priests will say when his cold corse is borne away. let him who seeketh for wealth uncheck'd by fear of labour--let him reflect, the gold he wins will brightly shine, when he has perish'd with all his line. though man may rave and vainly boast, we are but ashes when at the most. birds of passage. from the swedish. so hot shines the sun upon nile's yellow stream, that the palm-trees can save us no more from his beam; now comes the desire for home, in full force, and northward our phalanx bends swiftly its course. now dim underneath us, through distance we view the green grassy earth, and the ocean's deep blue; there tempests and frequent disasters arise, whilst free and untroubled we wend through the skies. lo, high among mountains a meadow lies spread, and there we alight, and get ready our bed; there hatch we our eggs, and beneath the chill pole we wait while the summer months over us roll. no hunter, desirous to make us his prey, invades our lone valley by night or by day; but green-mantled fairies their merry routs hold, and fearless the pigmy {f:34} there hammers its gold. but when pallid winter, again on the rocks shakes down in a shower the snow from his locks, then comes the desire for heat, in full force, and southward our phalanx bends swiftly its course. to the verdant savannah, and palm-shaded plain, where the nile rolls his water, we hurry again; there rest we till summer's sun, waxing too hot, makes us wish for our native, our hill-girded spot. the broken harp. o thou, who, 'mid the forest trees, with thy harmonious trembling strain, could'st change at once to soothing ease, my love-sick bosom's cruel pain: thou droop'st in dreary silence now, with shiver'd frame, and broken string, while here, unhelp'd, beneath the bough i sit, and feebly strive to sing. the moon no more illumes the ground; in night and vapour dies my lay; for with thy sweet and melting sound fled, all at once, her silver ray: o soon, o soon, shall this sad heart, which beats so low, and bleeds so free, o'ercome by its fell load of smart, be broke, o ruin'd harp, like thee! scenes. observe ye not yon high cliff's brow, up which a wanderer clambers slow, 't is by a hoary ruin crown'd, which rocks when shrill winds whistle round; that is an ancient knightly hold,-alas! it droops, deserted, cold; and sad and cheerless seems to gaze, back, back, to yon heroic days, when youthful kemps, {f:35} completely arm'd, and lovely maids around it swarm'd. you, in the tower, a hole may see; a window there has ceas'd to be. from that once lean'd a damsel bright, in evening's red and fading light, and star'd intently down the way, up which should come her lover gay: but, time it flies on rapid wing-far off a church is towering, within it stand two marble stones, that rest above the lovers' bones. but see, the wanderer, with pain, has reach'd the pile he wish'd to gain; whilst sol, behind the ruin'd walls, down into sacred nature falls. see, there, two hostile nobles fight, with tiger-rage and giant-might. there's seen no smoke, there's heard no shot, for guns and powder yet were not. 't was custom then, when foemen warr'd, to win or lose with spear and sword: a wild heroic song they yell, and each the other seeks to fell. oft, oft, her ownself to destroy, her own hand nature does employ. there casts the hill up fire-flakes, and earth's gigantic body quakes: there, lightnings through the high blue flash, and ocean's billows wildly dash: there, men 'gainst men their muscles strain, and deal out death, and wounds, and pain. o nature! to thyself show less of hate, and more of tenderness. how dusky is the air around; we are no more above the ground; but, down we wend within the hill, whose springs our ears with hissings fill. see, there, how rich the ruddy gold winds snakeways, 'midst the clammy mould and hard green stone. by torches' ray, the harvest there men mow away. but, see ye not yon gath'ring cloud, which 'gainst them cometh paley proud; that holds the spirit of the hill, who brings death in its hand so chill: if down they do not quickly fall, most certainly 't will slay them all; for sorely wrathful is its mood, because they break its solitude: because its treasure off they bear, and fling light o'er its gloomy lair. 't is white, and kobbold is the name which it from oldest days does claim. now, back at once into time we go, for many a hundred years, i trow. a gothic chamber salutes your sight: a taper gleams feebly through the night; a ghostly man by the board you see, with his hand to his temples muses he: parchments, with age discolour'd and dun; ancient shields all written upon; tree-bark, bearing ciphers half defac'd; stones with runes and characters grac'd; things of more worth than ye are aware, on the mighty table are pil'd up there. he gazes now in exstatic trance through the casement, out into nature's expanse. whene'er we sit at the lone midnight, and stare out into the dubious light, whilst the pallid moon is peering o'er ruin'd cloister and crumbling tower, feelings so wondrous strange come o'er us; the past, and the future, arise before us; the present fadeth, unmark'd, away in the garb of insignificancy. he gazes up into nature's height, the noble man with his eye so bright; he gazes up to the starry skies, whither, sooner or later, we hope to rise; and now he takes in haste the pen, and the spirit of oldom flows from it amain; the scatter'd goth-songs he changes unto an epic which maketh each bosom to glow. thanks to the old monk, toiling thus-they call him saxo grammaticus. an open field before you lies, a wind-burst o'er its bosom sighs, now all is still, all seems asleep; 'midst of the field there stands a heap, upon the heap stand runic stones, thereunder rest gigantic bones. from arild's time, that heap stands there, but now 't is till'd with utmost care, in order that its owner may thereoff reap golden corn one day. oft has he tried, the niggard soul, the mighty stones away to roll, as useless burdens of his ground; but they for that too big were found. see, see! the moon through cloud and rack looks down upon the letters black: and when the ghost its form uprears he shines upon its bursting tears-for oh! the moon's an ancient man, describe him, mortal tongue ne'er can, he shines alike, serene and bright, at midmost hour of witching night, upon the spot of love and glee, and on the gloomy gallows-tree. upon each rune behold him stare, while off he hastes through fields of air; he understands those signs, i'll gage, whose meaning lies in sunken age; and if he were in speaking state, no doubt the old man could relate strange things that have on earth occurr'd, of which fame ne'er has said a word; but since with look, with look alone, he cannot those events make known, he waketh from his height sublime mere longing for the dark gone time. the suicide's grave. from the german. this piece is not translated for the sentiments which it contains, but for its poetical beauties. although the path of human life is rough and thorny, the mind may always receive consolation by looking forward to the world to come. the mind which rejects a future state has to thank itself for its utter misery and hopelessness. the evening shadows fall upon the grave on which i sit; it is no common heap,-below its turf are laid the bones of one, who, sick of life and misery, did quench the vital spark which in his bosom burn'd. the shadows deepen, and the ruddy tinge which lately flooded all the western sky has now diminish'd to a single streak, and here i sit, alone, and listen to the noise of forests, and the hum of groves. this is the time to think of nature's god, when birds and fountains, streams and woods, unite their various-sounding voices in his praise: shall man alone refuse to sing it--yes, for man, alone, has nought to thank him for. there's not a joy he gives to us on earth that is not dash'd with bitterness and gall, only when youth is past, and age comes on, do we find quiet--quiet is not bliss, then tell me, god, what i've to thank thee for. but to recur to him who rests beneath-he had a heart enthusiastic, warm, and form'd for love--no prejudice dwelt there; he roam'd about the world to find a heart which felt with his, he sought, and found it not. or if he found it, providence stepp'd in, and tore the cherish'd object from his sight, or fill'd its mind with visions weak and vain-could he survive all this? ah, no! he died,-died by the hand which injur'd none but him. and did he die unpitied and unwept,-most probably, for there are fools who think 't is crime in man to take what is his own-and 't was on account they laid him here, within this sweet, unconsecrated, spot. there comes a troop of maidens and of youths home from their labour--hark! they cease their song, and, pointing to the grave, with trembling hands, they make a circuit, thinking that in me the ghost of the self-murderer they view-which, fame says, wanders here. list of subscribers. the right honourable the earl of albemarle t. amyot, esq., _london_ f. arden, esq. _london_, 5 copies mr. a. austin the right rev. father in god henry bathurst, lord bishop of norwich mr. w. bacon mr. a. barnard mr. p. barnes mr. barwell mr. bell, _diss_ n. bolingbroke, esq. j. bowring, esq., _hackney_ w. burrows, esq., _stoke_ miss burrows w. burt, esq. jun. thomas campbell, esq., london s. clarke, esq., _berghapton_ mr. t. clarke mr. p. clarke mr. p. clayton n. cobham, esq. _exeter_, 2 copies rev. c. codd, _dereham_ j. h. cole, esq. mrs. coleman mr. w. cooper mr. e. cooper, _dereham_ mr. g. cooper, _dereham_ w. cross, esq. h. custance, esq., _weston longueville_ rev. custance e. dashwood, esq., _colchester_ t. g. o'donnahoo, esq., _london_, 5 copies mr. doughty, _brockdish_ t. dyson, esq., _diss_ mr. elliot dr. evans f. farr, esq., _beecles_ g. fitzmaurice, esq., _london_, 2 copies j. fletcher, esq., _london_ r. fowler, esq., _london_ j. geldart, esq. b. girling. esq., _dereham_ rev. w. girling mr. green c. greville, esq. m.p. t. gurdon, esq., _letton hall_, _suffolk_, 2 copies mrs. gurdon, 2 copies h. gurney, esq. m.p. r. h. gurney, esq. m.p. miss anne gurney mr. w. hankes capt. hare, _stow hall_, 2 copies mr. w. harper j. harvey, esq. sir r. j. harvey g. harvey, esq. r. hawkes, esq. mrs. hawkes b. r. haydon, esq., _london_ w. herring, esq. mr. higham, _london_ mr. hobart mr. holly t. hudson, esq. mr. r. hull n. islay, esq., _croydon_ mr. g. jay s. johnson, esq., _london_ p. johnstone, esq., _london_ mr. juby rev. j. kennedy, _templemore_, _tipperary_ mr. r. kerrison mr. e. kerrison capt. langford e. lombe, esq. mrs. lloyd, _bawdeswell_ miss lloyd, _bawdeswell_ miss l. lloyd, _bawdeswell_ miss e. lloyd, _bawdeswell_ mr. r. lloyd mr. j. lloyd, _welsh pool_ mr. h. marshall, _ashby_ mr. h. marshall, _norwich_ mr. w. matchett rev. c. millard mr. mills, _pulham_ mr. f. mills a. morrison, esq., _eaton hall_ mrs. morrison g. morse, esq. rev. g. munnings, _dereham_ j. neales, esq., _london_ mr. newton mr. e. newton mr. w. nichols mr. b. norgate t. oliver, esq., _yarmouth_ c. s. onley, esq. m.p. j. parkinson, esq. mr. p. paterson, _glasgow_ mrs. j. pertwee, _fingringhoe hall_ r. plumptre, esq. mr. press mr. p. pullen w. quarles, esq., _foulsham_ w. rackham, esq. mr. w. roberts j. robertson, esq., _london_ w. robertson, esq., _london_ etienne compte de la roche, _brest_, 2 copies n. simpson, esq., _london_ w. slous, esq., _london_ sir james smith j. sparham, esq., _palgrave_ mr. w. stark mr. j. stark j. stewart, esq. r. stoughton, esq., _sparham_ rev. a. t. suckling mr. p. thompson, _london_ mr. j. thompson, _dereham_ j. timbs, esq., _london_ mr. g. thurtell, _eaton_ mr. j. thurtell mr. b. sadler s. salter, esq., _london_ capt. r. sayer p. scott, esq. mr. sendall mrs. simpson w. simpson, esq. jun. w. w. simpson, esq., _london_ mrs. e. thurtell mr. j. turner, _london_ mr. turner j. vincent, esq., _london_ s. weir, esq., _manchester_ rev. g. widrow, _manchester_ mr. wilson mr. winter mr. i. wiseman hon. col. wodehouse e. wodehouse, esq. m.p. d. woods, esq., _dereham_ mr. i. young, _london_, 2 copies mr. l. young, _london_ appendix no. 1. a bibliographical note by clement shorter. george borrow commenced his literary career with a translation of klinger's "faustus" in 1825, and by a compilation of "celebrated trials" in the same year. both these books appeared in london while he was engaged as a bookseller's hack, as described in "lavengro." in 1826 borrow returned to norwich, and there he issued from the printing-house of s. wilkin, in the upper haymarket, these "romantic ballads." he had worked hard at collecting subscribers, and two hundred copies were reserved for norwich at half a guinea each copy; the remaining three hundred out of an edition of five hundred were sent to london. some of these bear the imprint of john taylor, waterloo place, pall mall, 1826, while the remainder bear the imprint of wightman & cramp, of paternoster row, in the same year. dr. knapp only knew of the taylor edition, because that is referred to in the correspondence. copies, however, of the wightman & cramp edition are in existence, and the title-page will be found reproduced with those of the first and second issue in the opening pages of this volume. borrow sent copies to lockhart, and cunningham advised gifts to other reviewers; but not a single review of the book appeared. yet his subscription list "amply paid all expenses," as borrow states in a letter to cunningham. that list reveals the fact that such diverse persons as dr. bathurst, bishop of norwich, and thurtell, the murderer of mr. weare, were among the norwich subscribers, while benjamin haydon, john timbs, and thomas campbell paid their half-guineas from london. thurtell, we may add, was hanged before the book appeared. appendix no. 2. facsimile of borrow's manuscript from the collection of clement shorter. {i:manuscript of the deceived merman--part 1: borrow1.jpg} {i:manuscript of the deceived merman--part 2: borrow2.jpg} footnotes: {f:1} the goddess of death--according to the northern mythology. {f:2} the paradise of the northern mythology. {f:3} moe in danish signifies maid, and is pronounced nearly like "may." may is old english for maid. {f:4} the fairies.--ellefolk. _dan_. {f:5} giants.--jette. _dan_. {f:6} dovrefeld is the highest mountain in norway, and in europe. {f:7} some of the many powers attributed to "runic verses" will be found described in the song so intituled, in the latter part of this volume. {f:8} boune, to get ready. {f:9} rede, advise. raader.--dan. {f:10} woxen, grown. voxen.--dan. {f:11} jesus christ. {f:12} grene shaw, green wood.--old english. {f:13} brute-carl, dyre-carl.--_original_. {f:14} by this nose under the chin must be understood, that the elf has so long and crooked a nose, that it reaches and turns up under his chin. crooked noses are, in all stories, allowed to be an ingredient of fiendish physiognomy. {f:15} svobt udi maard.--_original_. {f:16} slaae mig et mit ledemod sonder. {f:17} burly, strong. {f:18} rok og teen. the rok is no longer used in england, though still common in the north. it is a hazle stick, more than a yard long, round which the wool is wound. it is affixed to the side of the spinner, under the left arm. {f:19} by scattering "runes," or runic letters, over graves, provided they formed a particular rhyme, the ancient scandinavians imagined that the dead might be aroused. {f:20} han laerer de kiaempers ryg at verke. {f:21} to ride at dyst, to battle on horseback. {f:22} it was formerly the custom in denmark, upon st. john's day, to celebrate the arrival of summer, by troops of youths and maids going out into the woods, and thence returning bedecked with leaves and branches. this ceremony was called "bringing summer to town." {f:23} blank, clear, shining.--_dan_. {f:24} called in danish kiaempe-steene; these stones either mark the burial place of a warrior, or the spot where some very remarkable circumstance has occurred. {f:25} these were ancient danish monarchs renowned in song and tale, for warlike exploits and strange adventures. not far from the bridge of vaere in the diocese of roeskild, is king frode's grave-hill, which, according to tradition, contains immense treasures, and is the richest in all the land. "around the king's neck is a gold chain, so long that its other end reaches round his feet." _see thiele's danske folkesagn_. {f:26} denmark's wisest and greatest king. he entertained a warm friendship for james the first of england, and, attended by his court, came to london to visit him. the ceremonies and rejoicings which this event gave rise to, are well described in an old german book, at present in the british museum. {f:27} tordenskiold juul and hvidtfeld--celebrated danish admirals. the memory of tordenskiold is sacred among the peasantry, on account of the victories obtained by him over the swedes. it is reported of him in jutland, that when the shot of the enemy was directed thick and fast against him, he would shake the leaden bullets from out the folds of his clothes. {f:28} in the northern mythology, the god of war and strength. he is girded by a belt of bear-sinews, and bears a hammer called "miolner," which means the shatterer, and with which he destroys giants, demons, and other foes of odin the supreme god. {f:29} see preface to "waldemar's chase," p. 115. {f:30} it was frequently the practice of the ancient norsemen, after having entombed their dead kings and heroes, to plant oaks or other trees over them, in order to prevent their remains being disturbed with facility. in that sublimest of all poems, "the incantation of hervor," is a passage to the following effect: hervadr, hiorvadr, hrani and angantyr, i wake ye all under the roots of the trees. {f:31} between the islands of ferroe the sea exhibits a phenomenon, called, in the dialect of the islanders, the boff. whilst the salt stream runs strong and glassy through its narrow channel, it is suddenly deformed by seven successive breakers, huge and foamy, which occur without any apparent cause, and infallibly overwhelm any boat which may chance to be in the way of their fury. {f:32} the ancient northern god of music and poetry. {f:33} a mountain in the scottish highlands. {f:34} the duergar, or dwarf-elves, of scandinavia are famous for the dexterity with which they fabricate ornaments of every kind, from the gold which they dig out of the depths of the hills. {f:35} kemp, a warrior.--_old eng_. _dan_. kiempe. this ebook was produced by david widger <widger@cecomet.net> [note: there is a short list of bookmarks, or pointers, at the end of the file for those who may wish to sample the author's ideas before making an entire meal of them. d.w.] arachne by georg ebers volume 7. chapter viii. without a word of explanation, hermon dragged his guide along in breathless haste. no one stopped them. the atrium, usually swarming with guards, servants, and officials until a far later hour, was completely deserted when the blind man hurried through it with his friend. the door leading into the outer air stood open, but hermon, leaning on the scholar's arm, had scarcely crossed the threshold and entered the little courtyard encircled with ornamental plants, which separated this portion of the palace from the street, when both were surrounded by a band of armed macedonian soldiers, whose commander exclaimed: "in the name of the king! not a sound, if you value your lives!" incensed, and believing that there was some mistake, hermon announced himself as a sculptor and crates as a member of the museum, but this statement did not produce the slightest effect upon the warrior; nay, when the friends answered the officer's inquiry whether they were coming from proclus's banquet in the affirmative; he curtly commanded them to be put in chains. to offer resistance would have been madness, for even hermon perceived, by the loud clanking of weapons around them, the greatly superior power of the enemy, and they were acting by the orders of the king. "to the prison near the place of execution!" cried the officer; and now not only the mythograph, but hermon also was startled--this dungeon opened only to those sentenced to death. was he to be led to the executioner's block? a cold shudder ran through his frame; but the next moment he threw back his waving locks, and his chest heaved with a long breath. what pleasure had life to offer him, the blind man, who was already dead to his art? ought he not to greet this sudden end as a boon from the immortals? did it not spare him a humiliation as great and painful as could be imagined? he had already taken care that the false renown should not follow him to the grave, and myrtilus should have his just due, and he would do whatever else lay in his power to further this object. wherever the beloved dead might be, he desired to go there also. whatever might await him, he desired no better fate. if he had passed into annihilation, he, hermon, wished to follow him thither, and annihilation certainly meant redemption from pain and misery. but if he were destined to meet his myrtilus and his mother in the world beyond the grave, what had he not to tell them, how sure he was of finding a joyful reception there from both! the power which delivered him over to death just at that moment was not nemesis--no, it was a kindly deity. only his heart grew heavy at the thought of leaving daphne to the tireless wooer philotas or some other--everything else from which it is usually hard to part seemed like a burden that we gladly cast aside. "forward!" he called blithely and boldly to the officer; while crates, with loud lamentations, was protesting his innocence to the warrior who was putting fetters upon him. a chain was just being clasped around hermon's wrists also when he suddenly started. his keen ear could not deceive him, and yet a demon must be mocking him, for the voice that had called his name was the girl's of whom, in the presence of welcome death, he had thought with longing regret. yet it was no illusion that deceived him. again he heard the beloved voice, and this time it addressed not only him, but with the utmost haste the commander of the soldiers. sometimes with touching entreaty, sometimes with imperious command, she protested, after giving him her name, that this matter could be nothing but an unfortunate mistake. lastly, with earnest warmth, she besought him, before taking the prisoners away, to permit her to speak to the commanding general, philippus, her father's guest, who, she was certain, was in the palace. the blood of these innocent men would be on his head if he did not listen to her representations. "daphne!" cried hermon in grateful agitation; but she would not listen to him, and followed the soldier whom the captain detailed to guide her into the palace. after a few moments, which the blind artist used to inspire the despairing scholar with courage, the girl returned, and she did not come alone. the gray-haired comrade of alexander accompanied her, and after a few minutes both prisoners were released from their fetters. philippus hastily refused their thanks and, after addressing a few words to the officer, he changed his tone, and his deep voice sounded paternally cordial as he exclaimed to daphne: "fifteen minutes more, you dear, foolhardy girl, and it would have been too late. to-morrow you shall confess to me who treacherously directed you to this dangerous path." lastly, he turned to the prisoners to explain that they would be conducted to the adjacent barracks of the diadochi, and spend the night there. early the next morning they should be examined, and, if they could clear themselves from the suspicion of belonging to the ranks of the conspirators, released. daphne again pleaded for the liberation of the prisoners, but philippus silenced her with the grave exclamation, "the order of the king!" the old commander offered no objection to her wish to accompany hermon to prison. daphne now slipped her arm through her cousin's, and commanded the steward gras, who had brought her here, to follow them. the goal of the nocturnal walk, which was close at hand, was reached at the end of a few minutes, and the prisoners were delivered to the commander of the diadochi. this kindly disposed officer had served under hermon's father, and when the names of the prisoners were given, and the officer reported to him that general philippus recommended them to his care as innocent men, he had a special room opened for the sculptor and his fair guide, and ordered crates to enter another. he could permit the beautiful daughter of the honoured archias to remain with hermon for half an hour, then he must beg her to allow herself to be escorted to her home, as the barracks were closed at that time. as soon as the captive artist was alone with the woman he loved, he clasped her hand, pouring forth incoherent words of the most ardent gratitude, and when he felt her warmly return the pressure, he could not restrain the desire to clasp her to his heart. for the first time his lips met hers, he confessed his love, and that he had just regarded death as a deliverer; but his life was now gaining new charm through her affection. then daphne herself threw her arms around his neck with fervent devotion. the love that resistlessly drew his heart to her was returned with equal strength and ardour. in spite of his deep mental distress, he could have shouted aloud in his delight and gratitude. he might now have been permitted to bind forever to his life the woman who had just rescued him from the greatest danger, but the confession he must make to his fellowartists in the palaestra the following morning still sealed his lips. yet in this hour he felt that he was united to her, and ought not to conceal what awaited him; so, obeying a strong impulse, he exclaimed: "you know that i love you! words can not express the strength of my devotion, but for that very reason i must do what duty commands before i ask the question, 'will you join your fate to mine?'" "i love you and have loved you always!" daphne exclaimed tenderly. "what more is needed?" but hermon, with drooping head, murmured: "to-morrow i shall no longer be what i am now. wait until i have done what duty enjoins; when that is accomplished, you shall ask yourself what worth the blind artist still possesses who bartered spurious fame for mockery and disgrace in order not to become a hypocrite." then daphne raised her face to his, asking, "so the demeter is the work of myrtilus?" "certainly," he answered firmly. "it is the work of myrtilus." "oh, my poor, deceived love!" cried daphne, strongly agitated, in a tone of the deepest sorrow. "what a terrible ordeal again awaits you! it must indeed distress me--and yet do not misunderstand me! it seems nevertheless as if i ought to rejoice, for you and your art have not spoken to me even a single moment from this much-lauded work." "and therefore," he interrupted with passionate delight, "therefore alone you withheld the enthusiastic praise with which the others intoxicated me? and i, fool, blinded also in mind, could be vexed with you for it! but only wait, wait! soon-to-morrow even--there will be no one in alexandria who can accuse me of deserting my own honest aspiration, and, if the gods will only restore my sight and the ability to use my hands as a sculptor, then, girl, then--" here he was interrupted by a loud knocking at the door. the time allowed had expired. hermon again warmly embraced daphne, saying: "then go! nothing can cloud what these brief moments have bestowed. i must remain blind; but you have restored the lost sight to my poor darkened soul. to-morrow i shall stand in the palaestra before my comrades, and explain to them what a malicious accident deceived me, and with me this whole great city. many will not believe me, and even your father will perhaps consider it a disgrace to give his arm to his scorned, calumniated nephew to guide him home. bring this before your mind, and everything else that you must accept with it, if you consent, when the time arrives, to become mine. conceal and palliate nothing! but should the lady thyone speak of the eumenides who pursued me, tell her that they had probably again extended their arms toward me, but when i return to-morrow from the palaestra i shall be freed from the terrible beings." lastly, he asked to be told quickly how she had happened to come to the palace at the right time at so late an hour, and daphne informed him as briefly and modestly as if the hazardous venture which, in strong opposition to her retiring, womanly nature, she had undertaken, was a mere matter of course. when thyone in her presence heard from gras that hermon intended to go to proclus's banquet, she started up in horror, exclaiming, "then the unfortunate man is lost!" her husband, who had long trusted even the gravest secrets to his discreet old wife, had informed her of the terrible office the king had confided to him. all the male guests of proclus were to be executed; the women--the queen at their head--would be sent into exile. then daphne, on her knees, besought the matron to tell her what threatened hermon, and succeeded in persuading her to speak. the terrified girl, accompanied by gras, went first to her lover's house and, when she did not find him there, hastened to the king's palace. if hermon could have seen her with her fluttering hair, dishevelled by the night breeze, and checks blanched by excitement and terror, if he had been told how she struggled with thyone, who tried to detain her and lock her up before she left her father's house, he would have perceived with still prouder joy, had that been possible, what he possessed in the devoted love of this true woman. grateful and moved by joyous hopes, he informed daphne of the words of the oracle, which had imprinted themselves upon his memory. she, too, quickly retained them, and murmured softly: "noise and dazzling radiance are hostile to the purer light, morning and day will rise quietly from the starving sand." what could the verse mean except that the blind man would regain the power to behold the light of clay amid the sands of the silent desert? perhaps it would be well for him to leave alexandria now, and she described how much benefit she had received while hunting from the silence of the wilderness, when she had left the noise of the city behind her. but before she had quite finished, the knocking at the door was repeated. the lovers took leave of each other with one last kiss, and the final words of the departing girl echoed consolingly in the blind man's heart, "the more they take from you, the more closely i will cling to you." hermon spent the latter portion of the night rejoicing in the consciousness of a great happiness, yet also troubled by the difficult task which he could not escape. when the market place was filling, gray-haired philippus visited him. he desired before the examination, for which every preparation had been made, to understand personally the relation of his dead comrade's son to the defeated conspiracy, and he soon perceived that hermon's presence at the banquet was due solely to an unlucky accident or in consequence of the queen's desire to win him over to her plot. yet he was forced to advise the blind sculptor to leave alexandria. the suspicion that he had been associated with the conspirators was the more difficult to refute, because his uncle archias had imprudently allowed himself to be persuaded by proclus and arsinoe to lend the queen large sums, which had undoubtedly been used to promote her abominable plans. philippus also informed him that he had just come from archias, whom he had earnestly urged to fly as quickly as possible from the persecution which was inevitable; for, secure as hermon's uncle felt in his innocence, the receipts for the large sums loaned by him, which had just been found in proclus's possession, would bear witness against him. envy and ill will would also have a share in this affair, and the usually benevolent king knew no mercy where crime against his own person was concerned. so archias intended to leave the city on one of his own ships that very day. daphne, of course, would accompany him. the prisoner listened in surprise and anxiety. his uncle driven from his secure possessions to distant lands! daphne taken from him, he knew not whither nor for how long a time, after he had just been assured of her great love! he himself on the way to expose himself to the malice and mockery of the whole city! his heart contracted painfully, and his solicitude about his uncle's fate increased when philippus informed him that the conspirators had been arrested at the banquet and, headed by amyntas, the rhodian, chrysippus, and proclus, had perished by the executioner's sword at sunrise. the queen, althea, and the other ladies were already on the way to coptos, in upper egypt, whither the king had exiled them. ptolemy had intrusted the execution of this severe punishment to alexander's former comrade as the most trustworthy and discreet of his subjects, but rejected, with angry curtness, philippus's attempt to uphold the innocence of his friend archias. the old man's conversation with hermon was interrupted by the functionaries who subjected him and crates to the examination. it lasted a long time, and referred to every incident in the artist's life since his return to alexandria. the result was favourable, and the prisoner was dismissed from confinement with the learned companion of his fate. when, accompanied by philippus, hermon reached his house, it was so late that the artists' festival in honour of the sculptor euphranor, who entered his seventieth year of life that day, must have already commenced. on the way the blind man told the general what a severe trial awaited him, and the latter approved his course and, on bidding him farewell, with sincere emotion urged hermon to take courage. after hastily strengthening himself with a few mouthfuls of food and a draught of wine, his slave patran, who understood writing, wished to put on the full laurel wreath; but hermon was seized with a painful sense of dissatisfaction, and angrily waved it back. without a single green leaf on his head, he walked, leaning on the egyptian's arm, into the palaestra, which was diagonally opposite to his house. doubtless he longed to hasten at once to daphne, but he felt that he could not take leave of her until he had first cast off, as his heart and mind dictated, the terrible burden which oppressed his soul. besides, he knew that the object of his love would not part from him without granting him one last word. on the way his heart throbbed almost to bursting. even daphne's image, and what threatened her father, and her with him, receded far into the background. he could think only of his design, and how he was to execute it. yet ought he not to have the laurel wreath put on, in order, after removing it, to bestow it on the genius of myrtilus? yet no! did he still possess the right to award this noble branch to any one? he was appearing before his companions only to give truth its just due. it was repulsive to endow this explanation of an unfortunate error with a captivating aspect by any theatrical adornment. to be honest, even for the porter, was a simple requirement of duty, and no praiseworthy merit. the guide forced a path for him through carriages, litters, and whole throngs of slaves and common people, who had assembled before the neighbouring palaestra. the doorkeepers admitted the blind man, who was well known here, without delay; but he called to the slave: "quick, patran, and not among the spectators--in the centre of the arena!" the egyptian obeyed, and his master crossed the wide space, strewn with sand, and approached the stage which had been erected for the festal performances. even had his eyes retained the power of sight, his blood was coursing so wildly through his veins that he might perhaps have been unable to distinguish the statues around him and the thousands of spectators, who, crowded closely together, richly garlanded, their cheeks glowing with enthusiasm, surrounded the arena. "hermon!" shouted his friend soteles in joyful surprise in the midst of this painful walk. "hermon!" resounded here, there, and everywhere as, leaning on his friend's arm, he stepped upon the stage, and the acclamations grew louder and louder as soteles fulfilled the sculptor's request and led him to the front of the platform. obeying a sign from the director of the festival, the chorus, which had just sung a hymn to the muses, was silent. now the sculptor began to speak, and noisy applause thundered around him as he concluded the well-chosen words of homage with which he offered cordial congratulations to the estimable euphranor, to whom the festival was given; but the shouts soon ceased, for the audience had heard his modest entreaty to be permitted to say a few words, concerning a personal matter, to those who were his professional colleagues, as well as to the others who had honoured him with their interest and, only too loudly, with undeserved applause. the more closely what he had to say concerned himself, the briefer he would make his story. and, in fact, he did not long claim the attention of his hearers. clearly and curtly he stated how it had been possible to mistake mrytilus's work for his, how the tennis goldsmith had dispelled his first suspicion, and how vainly he had besought the priests of demeter to be permitted to feel his statue. then, without entering into details, he informed them that, through an accident, he had now reached the firm conviction that he had long worn wreaths which belonged to another. but, though the latter could not rise from the grave, he still owed it to truth, to whose service he had dedicated his art from the beginning, and to the simple honesty, dear alike to the peasant and the artist, to divest himself of the fame to which he was not entitled. even while he believed himself to be the creator of the demeter, he had been seriously troubled by the praise of so many critics, because it had exposed him to the suspicion of having become faithless to his art and his nature. in the name of the dead, he thanked his dear comrades for the enthusiastic appreciation his masterpiece had found. honour to myrtilus and his art, but he trusted this noble festal assemblage would pardon the unintentional deception, and aid his prayer for recovery. if it should be granted he hoped to show that hermon had not been wholly unworthy to adorn himself for a short time with the wreaths of myrtilus. when he closed, deep silence reigned for a brief interval, and one man looked at another irresolutely until the hero of the day, gray-haired euphranor, rose and, leaning on the arm of his favourite pupil, walked through the centre of the arena to the stage, mounted it, embraced hermon with paternal warmth, and made him happy by the words: "the deception that has fallen to your lot, my poor young friend, is a lamentable one; but honour to every one who honestly means to uphold the truth. we will beseech the immortals with prayers and sacrifices to restore sight to your artist eyes. if i am permitted, my dear young comrade, to see you continue to create, it will be a source of joy to me and all of us; yet the muses, even though unasked, lead into the eternal realm of beauty the elect who consecrates his art to truth with the right earnestness." the embrace with which the venerable hero of the festival seemed to absolve hermon was greeted with loud applause; but the kind words which euphranor, in the weak voice of age, had addressed to the blind man had been unintelligible to the large circle of guests. when he again descended to the arena new plaudits rose; but soon hisses and other signs of disapproval blended with them, which increased in strength and number when a well known critic, who had written a learned treatise concerning the relation of the demeter to hermon's earlier works, expressed his annoyance in a loud whistle. the dissatisfied and disappointed spectators now vied with one another to silence those who were cheering by a hideous uproar while the latter expressed more and more loud the sincere esteem with which they were inspired by the confession of the artist who, though cruelly prevented from winning fresh fame, cast aside the wreath which a dead man had, as were, proffered from his tomb. probably every man thought that, in the same situation, he would have done the same yet not only justice--nay, compassion--dictated showing the blind artist that they believed in and would sustain him. the illdisposed insisted that hermon had only done what duty commanded the meanest man, and the fact that he had deceived all alexandria still remained. not a few joined this party, for larger possession excite envy perhaps even more frequently than greater fame. soon the approving and opposing voices mingled in an actual conflict. but before the famous sculptor chares, the great and venerable artist nicias, and several younger friends of hermon quelled this unpleasant disturbance of the beautiful festival, the blind man, leaning on the arm of his fellow-artist soteles, had left the palaestra. at the exit he, parted from his friend, who had been made happy by the ability to absolve his more distinguished leader from the reproach of having become faithless to their common purpose, and who intended to intercede further in his behalf in the palaestra. hermon no longer needed him; for, besides his slave patran, he found the steward gras, who, by his master's order, guided the blind man to archias's closed harmamaxa, which was waiting outside the building. chapter ix. the sculptor's head was burning feverishly when he entered the vehicle. he had never imagined that the consequences of his explanation would be so terrible. during the drive--by no means a long one--to the great harbour, he strove to collect his thoughts. groaning aloud, he covered his ears with his hands to shut out the shouts and hisses from the palaestra, which in reality were no longer audible. true, he would not need to expose himself to this uproar a second time, yet if he remained in alexandria the witticisms, mockery, and jibes of the whole city, though in a gentler form, would echo hundreds of times around him. he must leave the city. he would have preferred to go on board the staunch tacheia and be borne far away with his uncle and daphne, but he was obliged to deny himself the fulfilment of this desire. he must now think solely of regaining his sight. obedient to the oracle, he would go to the desert where from the "starving sand" the radiant daylight was to rise anew for him. there he would, at any rate, be permitted to recover the clearness of perception and feeling which he had lost in the delirium of the dissolute life of pleasure that he had led in the past. pythagoras had already forbidden the folly of spoiling the present by remorse; and he, too, did not do this. it would have been repugnant to his genuinely greek nature. instead of looking backward with peevish regret, his purpose was to look with blithe confidence toward the future, and to do his best to render it better and more fruitful than the months of revel which lay behind him. he could no longer imagine a life worth living without daphne, and the thought that if his uncle were robbed of his wealth he would become her support cheered his heart. if the oracle did not fulfil its promise, he would again appeal to medical skill, and submit even to the most severe suffering which might be imposed upon him. the drive to the great harbour was soon over, but the boat which lay waiting for him had a considerable distance to traverse, for the tacheia was no longer at the landing place, but was tacking outside the pharos, in order, if the warrant of arrest were issued, not to be stopped at the channel dominated by the lighthouse. he found the slender trireme pervaded by a restless stir. his uncle had long been expecting him with burning impatience. he knew, through philippus, what duty still detained the deceived artist, but he learned, at the same time, that his own imprisonment had been determined, and it would be advisable for him to leave the city behind him as quickly as possible. yet neither daphne nor he was willing to depart without saying farewell to hermon. but the danger was increasing every moment, and, warm as was the parting, the last clasp of the hand and kiss swiftly followed the first words of greeting. so the blind artist learned only that archias was going to the island of lesbos, his mother's home, and that he had promised his daughter to give hermon time to recover his sight. the property bequeathed to him by myrtilus had been placed by the merchant in the royal bank, and he had also protected himself against any chance of poverty. hermon was to send news of his health to lesbos from time to time if a safe opportunity offered and, when daphne knew where he was to be found, she could let him have tidings. of course, for the present great caution must be exercised in order not to betray the abode of the fugitives. hermon, too, ought to evade the pursuit of the incensed king as quickly as possible. not only daphne's eyes, but her father's also, overflowed with tears at this parting, and hermon perceived more plainly than ever that he was as dear to his uncle as though he were his own son. the low words which the artist exchanged with the woman whose love, even during the period of separation, would shed light and warmth upon his darkened life, were deeply impressed upon the souls of both. for the present, faithful gras was to remain in charge of his master's house in alexandria. leaning on his arm, the blind man left the tacheia, which, as soon as both had entered the boat, was urged forward by powerful strokes of the oars. the bithynian informed hermon that kerchiefs were waving him a farewell from the trireme, that the sails had been unfurled, and the wind was driving the swift vessel before it like a swallow. at the pharos gras reported that a royal galley was just passing them, undoubtedly in pursuit of the tacheia; but the latter was the swiftest of all the greek vessels, and they need not fear that she would be overtaken by the war ship. with a sore heart and the desolate feeling of being now utterly alone, hermon again landed and ordered that his uncle's harmamaxa should convey him to the necropolis. he desired to seek peace at his mother's grave, and to take leave of these beloved tombs. guided by the steward, he left them cheered and with fresh confidence in the future, and the faithful servant's account of the energy with which daphne had aided the preparations for departure benefited him like a refreshing bath. when he was again at home, one visitor after another was announced, who came there from the festival in the palaestra, and, in spite of his great reluctance to receive them, he denied no one admittance, but listened even to the ill-disposed and spiteful. in the battle which he had commenced he must not shrink from wounds, and he was struck by many a poisoned shaft. but, to make amends, a clear understanding was effected between him and those whom he esteemed. the last caller left him just before midnight. hermon now made many preparations for departure. he intended to go into the desert with very little luggage, as the oracle seemed to direct. how long a time his absence would extend could not be estimated, and the many poor people whom he had fed and supported must not suffer through his departure. the arrangements required to effect this he dictated to the slave, who understood writing. he had gained in him an extremely capable servant, and patran expressed his readiness to follow him into the desert; but the wry face which, sure that the blind man could not see him, he made while saying so, seemed to prove the contrary. weary, and yet too excited to find sleep, hermon at last went to rest. if his myrtilus had been with him now, what would he not have had to say to express his gratitude, to explain! how overjoyed he would have been at the fulfilment of his wish to see him united to daphne, at least in heart; with what fiery ardour he would have upbraided those who believed him capable of having appropriated what belonged to another! but myrtilus was no more, and who could tell whether his body had not remained unburied, and his soul was therefore condemned to be borne restlessly between heaven and earth, like a leaf driven by the wind? yet, if the earth covered him, where was the spot on which sacrifices could be offered to his soul, his tombstone could be anointed, and he himself remembered? then a doubt which had never before entered his mind suddenly took possession of hermon. since for so many months he had firmly believed his friend's work to be his own, he might also have fallen into another delusion, and myrtilus might still dwell among the living. at this thought the blind man, with a swift movement, sat erect upon his couch; it seemed as if a bright light blazed before his eyes in the dark room. the reasons which had led the authorities to pronounce myrtilus dead rendered his early end probable, it is true, yet by no means proved it absolutely. he must hold fast to that. he who, ever since he returned to alexandria from tennis, had squandered precious time as if possessed by evil demons, would now make a better use of it. besides, he longed to leave the capital. what! suppose he should now, even though it were necessary to delay obeying the oracle's command, search, traverse, sail through the world in pursuit of myrtilus, even, if it must be, to the uttermost thule? but he fell back upon the couch as quickly as he had started up. "blind! blind!" he groaned in dull despair. how could he, who was not able even to see his hand before his eyes, succeed in finding his friend? and yet, yet---had his mind been darkened with his eyes, that this thought came to him now for the first time, that he had not sent messengers to all quarters of the globe to find some trace of the assailants and, with them, of the lost man? perhaps it was ledscha who had him in her power, and, while he was pondering and forming plans for the best way of conducting investigations, the dimmed image of the biamite again returned distinctly to his mind, and with it that of arachne and the spider, into which the goddess transformed the weaver. half overcome by sleep, he saw himself, staff in hand, led by daphne, cross green meadows and deserts, valleys and mountains, to seek his friend; yet whenever he fancied he caught sight of him, and ledscha with him, in the distance, the spider descended from above and, with magical speed, wove a net which concealed both from his gaze. groaning and deeply disturbed, half awake, he struggled onward, always toward one goal, to find his myrtilus again, when suddenly the sound of the knocker on the entrance door and the barking of lycas, his arabian greyhound, shook the house. recalled to waking life, he started up and listened. had the men who were to arrest him or inquisitive visitors not allowed themselves to be deterred even by the late hour? he listened angrily as the old porter sternly accosted the late guest; but, directly after, the gray-haired native of the region near the first cataract burst into the strange nubian oaths which he lavished liberally whenever anything stirred his aged soul. the dog, which hermon had owned only a few months, continued to bark; but above his hostile baying the blind man thought he recognised a name at whose sound the blood surged hotly into his cheeks. yet he could scarcely have heard aright! still he sprang from the couch, groped his way to the door, opened it, and entered the impluvium that adjoined his bedroom. the cool night air blew upon him from the open ceiling. a strong draught showed that the door leading from the atrium was being opened, and now a shout, half choked by weeping, greeted him: "hermon! my clear, my poor beloved master!" "bias, faithful bias!" fell from the blind man's lips, and when he felt the returned slave sink down before him, cover his hand with kisses and wet it with tears, he raised him in his strong arms, clasped him in a warm embrace, kissed his checks, and gasped, "and myrtilus, my myrtilus, is he alive?" "yes, yes, yes," sobbed bias. "but you, my lord-blind, blind! can it be true?" when hermon released him to inquire again about his friend, bias stammered: "he isn't faring so badly; but you, you, bereft of light and also of the joy of seeing your faithful bias again! and the immortals prolong one's years to experience such evils! two griefs always belong to one joy, like two horses to a chariot." "my wise bias! just as you were of old!" cried hermon in joyful excitement. then he quieted the hound and ordered one of the attendants, who came hurrying in, to bring out whatever dainty viands the house contained and a jar of the best byblus wine from the cellar. meanwhile he did not cease his inquiries about his friend's health, and ordered a goblet to be brought him also, that he might pledge the slave and give brief answers to his sympathizing questions about the cause of the blindness, the noble archias, the gracious young mistress daphne, the famous philippus and his wife, the companion chrysilla, and the steward gras. amid all this he resolved to free the faithful fellow and, while bias was eating, he could not refrain from telling him that he had found a mistress for him, that daphne was the wife whom he had chosen, but the wedding was still a long way off. he controlled his impatience to learn the particulars concerning his friend's fate until bias had partially satisfied his hunger. a short time ago hermon would have declared it impossible that he could ever become so happy during this period of conflict and separation from the object of his love. the thought of his lost inheritance doubtless flitted through his mind, but it seemed merely like worthless dust, and the certainty that myrtilus still walked among the living filled him with unclouded happiness. even though he could no longer see him, he might expect to hear his beloved voice again. oh, what delight that he was permitted to have his friend once more, as well as daphne, that he could meet him so freely and joyously and keep the laurel, which had rested with such leaden weight upon his head, for myrtilus, and for him alone! but where was he? what was the name of the miracle which had saved him, and yet kept him away from his embrace so long? how had myrtilus and bias escaped the flames and death on that night of horror? a flood of questions assailed the slave before he could begin a connected account, and hermon constantly interrupted it to ask for details concerning his friend and his health at each period and on every occasion. much surprised by his discreet manner, the artist listened to the bondman's narrative; for though bias had formerly allowed himself to indulge in various little familiarities toward his master, he refrained from them entirely in this story, and the blind man's misfortune invested him in his eyes with a peculiar sacredness. chapter x. he had arrived wounded on the pirate ship with his master's friend, the returned bondman began. when he had regained consciousness, he met ledscha on board the hydra, as the wife of the pirate hanno. she had nursed myrtilus with tireless solicitude, and also often cared for his, bias's, wounds. after the recovery of the prisoners, she became their protectress, and placed bias in the service of the greek artist. they, the gaul lutarius, and one of the sculptor's slaves, were the only ones who had been brought on board the hydra alive from the attack in tennis, but the latter soon succumbed to his wounds. hermon owed it solely to the bridge-builder that he had escaped from the vengeance of his biamite foe, for the tall gaul, whose thick beard resembled hermon's in length and blackness, was mistaken by hanno for the person whom ledscha had directed him to deliver alive into her power. the pirate had surrendered the wrong captive to the woman he loved and, as bias declared, to his serious disadvantage; for, though hanno and the biamite girl were husband and wife, no one could help perceiving the cold dislike with which ledscha rebuffed the giant who read her every wish in her eyes. finally, the captain of the pirate ship, a silent man by nature, often did not open his lips for days except to give orders to the crew. frequently he even refused to be relieved from duty, and remained all night at the helm. only when, at his own risk, or with the vessels of his father and brother, he attacked merchant ships or defended himself against a war galley, did he wake to vigorous life and rush with gallant recklessness into battle. a single man on the hydra was little inferior to him in strength and daring--the gaul lutarius. he had been enrolled among the pirates, and when hanno was wounded in an engagement with a syrian war galley, was elected his representative. during this time ledscha faithfully performed her duty as her young husband's nurse, but afterward treated him as coldly as before. yet she devoted herself eagerly to the ship and the crew, and the fierce, lawless fellows cheerfully submitted to the sensible arrangements of their captain's beautiful, energetic wife. at this period bias had often met ledscha engaged in secret conversation with the gaul, yet if any tender emotion really attracted her toward any one other than her husband, myrtilus would have been suspected rather than the black-bearded bridge-builder; for she not only showed the sculptor the kindest consideration, but often entered into conversation with him, and even persuaded him, when the sea was calm, or the hydra lay at anchor in one of the hidden bays known to the pirates, to practise his art, and at last to make a bust of her. she had succeeded in getting him clay, wax, and tools for the purpose. after asking which goddess had ill-treated the weaver arachne, she commanded him to make a head of athene, adorned with the helmet, modelled from her own. during this time she frequently inquired whether her features really were not beautiful enough to be copied for the countenance of a goddess, and when he eagerly assured her of the fact, made him swear that he was not deceiving her with flattery. neither bias nor myrtilus had ever been allowed to remain on shore; but, on the whole, the slave protested, myrtilus's health, thanks to the pure sea air on the hydra, had improved, in spite of the longing which often assailed him, and the great excitements to which he was sometimes exposed. there had been anxious hours when hanno's father and brothers visited the hydra to induce her captain to make money out of the captive sculptor, and either sell him at a high price or extort a large ransom from him; but bias had overheard how resolutely ledscha opposed these proposals, and represented to old satabus of what priceless importance myrtilus might become to them if either should be captured and imprisoned. the greatest excitements, of course, had been connected with the battles of the pirates. myrtilus, who, in spite of his feeble health, by no means lacked courage, found it especially hard to bear that during the conflicts he was locked up with bias, but even ledscha could neither prevent nor restrict these measures. bias could not tell what seas the hydra had sailed, nor at what--usually desolate-shores she had touched. he only knew that she had gone to sinope in pontus, passed through the propontis, and then sought booty near the coasts of asia minor. ledscha had refused to answer every question that referred to these things. latterly, the young wife had become very grave, and apparently completely severed her relations with her husband; but she also studiously avoided the gaul and, if they talked to each other at all, it was in hurried whispers. so events went on until something occurred which was to affect the lives of the prisoners deeply. it must have been just beyond the outlet from the hellespont into the aegean sea; for, in order to pass through the narrow straits leading thither from pontus, the hydra had been most skilfully given the appearance of a peaceful merchant vessel. the slave's soul must have been greatly agitated by this experience, for while, hitherto, whenever he was interrupted by hermon he had retained his composure, and could not refrain from occasionally connecting a practical application with his report, now, mastered by the power of the remembrance, he uttered what he wished to tell his master in an oppressed tone, while bright drops of perspiration bedewed the speaker's brow. a large merchant ship had approached them, and three men came on board the hydra--old satabus, his son labaja, and a gray-haired, bearded seafarer of tall stature and dignified bearing, schalit, ledscha's father. the meeting between the biamite ship-owner and his child, after so long a separation, was a singular one; for the young wife held out her hand to her father timidly, with downcast eyes, and he refused to take it. directly after, however, as if constrained by an irresistible impulse, he drew his unruly daughter toward him and kissed her brow and cheeks. roast meat and the best wine had been served in the large ship's cabin; but though myrtilus and bias had been locked up as if a bloody battle was expected, the loud, angry uproar of men's deep voices reached them, and ledscha's shrill tones shrieking in passionate wrath blended in the strife. furniture must have been upset and dishes broken, yet the giants who were disputing here did not come to blows. at last the savage turmoil subsided. when bias and his master were again released, ledscha was standing, in the dusk of evening, at the foot of the mainmast, pressing her brow against the wood as if she needed some support to save herself from falling. she checked myrtilus's words with an imperious "let me alone!" the next day she had paced restlessly up and down the deck like a caged beast of prey, and would permit no one to speak to her. at noon hanno was about to get into a boat to go to her father's ship, and she insisted upon accompanying him. but this time the corsair seemed completely transformed, and with the pitiless sternness, which he so well knew how to use in issuing commands, ordered her to remain on the hydra. she, however, by no means obeyed her husband's mandate without resistance, and, at the recollection of the conflict which now occurred between the pair, in which she raged like a tigress, the narrator's cheeks crimsoned. the quarrel was ended by the powerful seaman's taking in his arms his lithe, slender wife, who resisted him with all her strength and had already touched the side of the boat with her foot, and putting her down on the deck of his ship. then hanno leaped back into the skiff, while ledscha, groaning with rage, retired to the cabin. an hour after she again appeared on deck, called myrtilus and bias and, showing them her eyes, reddened by tears, told them, as if in apology for her weakness, that she had not been permitted to bid her father farewell. then, pallid as a corpse, she had turned the conversation upon hermon, and informed myrtilus that an alexandrian pilot had told her father that he was blind, and her brother-in-law labaja had heard the same thing. while saying this, her lips curled scornfully, but when she saw how deeply their friend's misfortune moved her two prisoners, she waved her hand, declaring that he did not need their sympathy; the pilot had reported that he was living in magnificence and pleasure, and the people in the capital honoured and praised him as if he were a god. thereupon she had laughed shrilly and reviled so bitterly the contemptible blind fortune that remains most loyal to those who deserve to perish in the deepest misery, that bias avoided repeating her words to his master. the news of myrtilus's legacy had not reached her ears, and bias, too, had just heard of it for the first time. ledscha's object had been to relieve her troubled soul by attacks upon the man whom she hated, but she suddenly turned to the master and servant to ask if they desired to obtain their liberty. oh, how quickly a hopeful "yes" reached the ears of the gloomy woman! how ready both were to swear, by a solemn oath, to fulfil the conditions the biamite desired to impose! as soon as opportunity offered, both were to leave the hydra with one other person who, like bias and herself, understood how to mange a boat. the favourable moment soon came. one moonless night, when the steering of the hydra was intrusted to the gaul, ledscha waked the two prisoners and, with the gaul lutarius, myrtilus, and the slave, entered the boat, which conveyed them to the shore without accident or interruption. bias knew the name of the place where it had anchored, it is true, but the oath which ledscha had made him swear there was so terrible that he would not have broken it at any cost. this oath required the slave, who, three days after their landing, was sent to alexandria by the first ship that sailed for that port, to maintain the most absolute secrecy concerning myrtilus's hiding place until he was authorized to speak. bias was to go to alexandria without delay, and there obtain from archias, who managed myrtilus's property, the sums which ledscha intended to use in the following manner: two attic talents bias was to bring back. these were for the gaul, probably in payment for his assistance. two more were to be taken by the slave to the temple of nemesis. lastly, bias was to deliver five talents to old tabus, who kept the treasure of the pirate family on the owl's nest, and tell her that ledscha, in this money, sent back the bridal dowry which hanno had paid her father for his daughter. with this she released herself from the husband who inspired her with feelings very unlike love. hermon asked to have this commission repeated, and received the directions myrtilus had given to the slave. the blind man's hope that they must also include greetings and news from his friend's hand was destroyed by bias, whom myrtilus, in the leisure hours on the hydra, had taught to read. this was not so difficult a task for the slave, who longed for knowledge, and had already tried it before. but with writing, on the other hand, he could make no headway. he was too old, and his hand had become too clumsy to acquire this difficult art. in reply to hermon's anxious question whether his friend needed anything in his present abode, the slave reported that he was at liberty to move about at will, and was not even obliged to share ledscha's lodgings. he lacked nothing, for the biamite, besides some gold, had left with him also gems and pearls of such great value that they would suffice to support him several years. as for himself, she had supplied him more than abundantly with money for travelling expenses. myrtilus was awaiting his return in a city prospering under a rich and wise regent, and sent whole cargoes of affectionate remembrances. the sculptor, too, was firmly resolved to keep the oath imposed upon him. as soon as he, bias, had performed the commission intrusted to him, he and myrtilus would be released from their vow, and hermon would learn his friend's residence. chapter xi. no morning brightened hermon's night of darkness. when the returned slave had finished his report, the sun was already shining into his master's room. without lying down again, the latter went at once to the tennis notary, who had moved to alexandria two months before, and with his assistance raised the money which his friend needed. worthy melampus had received the news that myrtilus was still alive in a very singular manner. even now he could grasp only one thing at a time, and he loved hermon with sincere devotion. therefore the lawyer who had so zealously striven to expedite the blind man's entering into possession of his friend's inheritance would very willingly have permitted myrtilus --doubtless an invalid--to continue to rest quietly among the dead. yet his kind heart rejoiced at the deliverance of the famous young artist, and so during hermon's story he had passed from sincere regret to loud expressions of joyous sympathy. lastly, he had placed his whole property at the disposal of hermon, who had paid him liberally for his work, to provide for the blind sculptor's future. this generous offer had been declined; but he now assisted hermon to prepare the emancipation papers for his faithful bias, and found a ship that was bound to tanis. toward evening he accompanied hermon to the harbour and, after a cordial farewell from his helpful friend, the artist, with the new "freedman" bias and the slave clerk patran, went on board the vessel, now ready to sail. the voyage was one of the speediest, yet the end came too soon for both master and servant--hermon had not yet heard enough of the friend beyond his reach, and bias was far from having related everything he desired to tell about myrtilus and ledscha; yet he was now permitted to express every opinion that entered his mind, and this had occupied a great deal of time. bias also sought to know much more about hermon's past and future than he had yet learned, not merely from curiosity, but because he foresaw that myrtilus would not cease to question him about his blind friend. the misfortune must have produced a deep and lasting effect upon the artist's joyous nature, for his whole bearing was pervaded by such earnestness and dignity that years, instead of months, seemed to have elapsed since their separation. it was characteristic of daphne that her lover's blindness did not alienate her from him; yet why had not the girl, who still desired to become his wife, been able to wed the helpless man who had lost his sight? if the father did not wish to be separated from his daughter, surely he could live with the young couple. a home was quickly made everywhere for the rich, and, if archias was tired of his house in alexandria, as hermon had intimated, there was room enough in the world for a new one. but that was the way with things here below! man was the cause of man's misfortune! daphne and hermon remained the same; but archias from an affectionate father had become transformed into an entirely different person. if the former had been allowed to follow their inclinations, they would now be united and happy, while, because a third person so willed, they must go their way solitary and wretched. he expressed this view to his master, and insisted upon his opinion until hermon confided to him what had driven archias from alexandria. patran, bias's successor, was by no means satisfactory to him. had hermon retained his sight, he certainly would not have purchased him, in spite of his skill as a scribe, for the egyptian had a "bad face." oh, if only he could have been permitted to stay with his benefactor instead of this sullen man! how carefully he would have removed the stones from his darkened pathway! during the voyage he was obliged to undergo severe struggles to keep the oath of secrecy imposed upon him; but perjury threatened him with the most horrible tortures, not to mention the sorceress tabus, whom he was to meet. so myrtilus's abode remained unknown to hermon. bias approved his master's intention of going into the desert. he had often seen the oracle of amon tested, and he himself had experienced the healthfulness of the desert air. besides, it made him proud to see that hermon was disposed to follow his suggestion of pitching his tent in a spot which he designated. this was at the end of the arm of the sea at clysma. several trees grew there beside small springs, and a peaceful family of amalekites raised vegetables in their little garden, situated on higher ground, watered by the desert wells. when a boy, before the doom of slavery had been pronounced upon him and his father, his mother, by the priest's advice, took him there to recover from the severe attack of fever which he could not shake off amid the damp papyrus plantations surrounding his parents' house. in the dry, pure air of the desert he recovered, and he would guide hermon there before returning to myrtilus. from tanis they reached tennis in a few hours, and found shelter in the home of the superintendent of archias's weaving establishments, whose hospitality myrtilus and hermon had enjoyed before their installation in the white house, now burned to the ground. the alexandrian bills of exchange were paid in gold by the lessee of the royal bank, who was a good friend of hermon. toward evening, both rowed to the owl's nest, taking the five talents with which the runaway wife intended to purchase freedom from her husband. as the men approached the central door of the pirates' house, a middyaged biamite woman appeared and rudely ordered them to leave the island. tabus was weak, and refused to see visitors. but she was mistaken; for when bias, in the dialect of his tribe, shouted loudly that messengers from the wife of her grandson hanno had arrived, there was a movement at the back of the room, and broken sentences, gasped with difficulty, expressed the old dame's wish to receive the strangers. on a sheep's-wool couch, over which was spread a wolfskin, the last gift of her son satabus, lay the sorceress, who raised herself as hermon passed through the door. after his greeting, she pointed to her deaf ear and begged him to speak louder. at the same time she gazed into his eyes with a keen, penetrating glance, and interrupted him by the question: "the greek sculptor whose studio was burned over his head? and blind? blind still?" "in both eyes," bias answered for his master. "and you, fellow?" the old dame asked; then, recollecting herself, stopped the reply on the servant's lips with the hasty remark: "you are the blackbeard's slave--a biamite? oh, i remember perfectly! you disappeared with the burning house." then she gazed intently and thoughtfully from one to the other, and at last, pointing to bias, muttered in a whisper: "you alone come from hanno and ledscha, and were with them on the hydra? very well. what news have you for the old woman from the young couple?" the freedman began to relate what brought him to the owl's nest, and the gray-haired crone listened eagerly until he said that ledscha lived unhappily with her husband, and therefore had left him. she sent back to her, as the head of hanno's family, the bridal dowry with which hanno had bought her from her father as his wife. then tabus struggled into a little more erect posture, and asked: "what does this mean? five talents--and gold, not silver talents? and she sends the money to me? to me? and she ran away from her husband? but no--no! once more--you are a biamite--repeat it in our own language--and loudly. this ear is the better one." bias obeyed, and the old dame listened to the end without interrupting him: then raising her brown right hand, covered with a network of blueblack veins, she clinched it into a fist, which she shook far more violently than bias would have believed possible in her weak condition. at the same time she pressed her lips so tightly together that her toothless mouth deepened into a hole, and her dim eyes shone with a keen, menacing light. for some time she found no reply, though strange, rattling, gasping sounds escaped her heaving breast. at last she succeeded in uttering words, and shrieked shrilly: "this-this--away with the golden trash! with the bridal dowry of the family rejected, and once more free, the base fool thinks she would be like the captive fox that gnawed the rope! oh, this age, these people! and this, this is the haughty, strong ledscha, the daughter of the biamites, who-there stands the blind girl--deceiver!--who so admirably avenged herself?" here her voice failed, and hermon began to speak to assure her that she understood ledscha's wish aright. then he asked her for a token by which she acknowledged the receipt of the gold, which he handed her in a stout linen bag. but his purpose was not fulfilled, for suddenly, flaming with passionate wrath, she thrust the purse aside, groaning: "not an obol of the accursed destruction of souls shall come back to hanno, nor even into the family store. until his heart and hers stop beating, the most indissoluble. bond will unite both. she desires to ransom herself from a lawful marriage concluded by her father, as if she were a captive of war; perhaps she even wants to follow another. hanno, brave lad, was ready to go to death for her sake, and she rewards him by bringing shame on his head and disgrace on us all. oh, these times, this world! everything that is inviolable and holy trampled in the dust! but they are not all so! in spite of grecian infidelity, marriage is still honoured among our people. but she who mocks what is sacred, and tramples holy customs under foot, shall be accursed, execrated, given over to want, hunger, disease, death!" with rattling breath and closed eyes she leaned farther back against the cushions that supported her; but bias, in their common language, tried to soothe her, and informed her that, though ledscha had probably run away from her husband, she had by no means renounced her vengeance. he was bringing two talents with him to place in the temple of nemesis. "of nemesis?" repeated the old dame. then she tried to raise herself and, as she constantly sank back again, bias aided her. but she had scarcely recovered her sitting posture when she gasped to the freedman: "nemesis, who helped, and is to continue to help her to destroy her foe? well, well! five talents--a great sum, a great sum! but the more the better! to nemesis with them, to ate and the erinyes! the talons of the avenging goddess shall tear the beautiful face, the heart, and the liver of the accursed one! a twofold malediction on her who has wronged the son of my satabus!" while speaking, her head nodded swiftly up and down, and when at last she bowed it wearily, her visitors heard her murmur the names of satabus and hanno, sometimes tenderly, sometimes mournfully. finally she asked whether any one else was concerned in ledscha's flight; and when she learned that a gallic bridge-builder accompanied the fugitive wife, she again started up as if frantic, exclaiming: "yes, to nemesis with the gold! we neither need nor want it, and satabus, my son, he will bless me for renunciation--" here exhaustion again silenced her. she gazed mutely and thoughtfully into vacancy, until at last, turning to bias, she began more calmly: "you will see her again, man, and must tell her what the clan of tabus bought with her talents. take her my curse, and let her know that her friends would be my foes, and her foes should find in tabus a benefactress!" then, deeply buried in thought, she again fixed her eyes on the floor; but at last she called to hermon, saying: "you, blind greek--am i not right?--the torch was thrust into your face, and you lost the sight of both eyes?" the artist assented to this question; but she bade him sit down before her, and when he bent his face near her she raised one lid after the other with trembling fingers, yet lightly and skilfully, gazed long and intently into his eyes, and murmured: "like black psoti and lawless simeon, and they are both cured." "can you restore me?" hermon now asked in great excitement. "answer me honestly, you experienced woman! give me back my sight, and demand whatever gold and valuables i still possess--" "keep them," tabus contemptuously interrupted. "not for gold or goods will i restore you the best gift man can lose. i will cure you because you are the person to whom the infamous wretch most ardently wished the sorest trouble. when she hoped to destroy you, she perceived in this deed the happiness which had been promised to her on a night when the full moon was shining. to-day--this very night--the disk between astarte's horns rounds again, and presently--wait a little while!-presently you shall have what the light restores you--" then she called the biamite woman, ordered her to bring the medicine chest, and took from it one vessel after another. the box she was seeking was among the last and, while handing it to bias, she muttered: "oh, yes, certainly--it does one good to destroy a foe, but no less to make her foe happy!" turning to the freedman, she went on in a louder tone: "you, slave, shall inform hanno's wife that old tabus gave the sculptor, whose blindness she caused, the remedy which restored the sight of black psoti, whom she knew." here she paused, gazed upward, and murmured almost unintelligibly: "satabus, hanno! if this is the last act of the old mother, it will give ye pleasure." then she told hermon to kneel again, and ordered the slave to hold the lamp which her nurse tasia had just lighted at the hearth fire. "the last," she said, looking into the box, "but it will be enough. the odour of the herb in the salve is as strong as if it had been prepared yesterday." she laid the first bandage on hermon's eyes with her own weak fingers, at the same time muttering an incantation; but it did not seem to satisfy her. great excitement had taken possession of her, and as the silver light of the full moon shone into her room she waved her hands before the artist's eyes and fixed her gaze upon the threshold illumined by the moonbeams, ejaculating sentences incomprehensible to the blind man. bias supported her, for she had risen to her full height, and he felt how she tottered and trembled. yet her strength held out to whisper to hermon: "nearer, still nearer! by the light of the august one whose rays greet us, let it be said: you will see again. await your recovery patiently in a quiet place in the pure air, not in the city. refrain from everything with which the greeks intoxicate themselves. shun wine, and whatever heats the blood. recovery is coming; i see it drawing near. you will see again as surely as i now curse the woman who abandoned the husband to whom she vowed fidelity. she rejoiced over your blindness, and she will gnash her teeth with rage and grief when she hears that it was tabus who brought light into the darkness that surrounds you." with these words she pushed off the freedman's supporting arms and sank back upon the couch. again hermon tried to thank her; but she would not permit it, and said in an almost inaudible tone: "i really did not give the salve to do you good--the last act of all--" finally she murmured a few words of direction for its use, and added that he must keep the sunlight from his blind eyes by bandages and shades, as if it were a cruel foe. when she paused, and bias asked her another question, she pointed to the door, exclaiming as loudly as her weakness permitted, "go, i tell you, go!" hermon obeyed and left her, accompanied by the freedman, who carried the box of salve so full of precious promise. the next morning bias delivered to the astonished priest of nemesis the large gifts intended for the avenging goddess. before hermon entered the boat with him and his egyptian slave, the freedman told his master that gula was again living in perfect harmony with the husband who had cast her off, and taus, ledscha's younger sister, was the wife of the young biamite who, she had feared, would give up his wooing on account of her visit to hermon's studio. after a long voyage through the canal which had been dug a short time before, connecting the mediterranean with the red sea, the three men reached clysma. opposite to it, on the eastern shore of the narrow northern point of the erythraean sea--[red sea]--lay the goal of their journey, and thither bias led his blind master, followed by the slave, on shore. chapter xii. it was long since hermon had felt so free and light-hearted as during this voyage. he firmly believed in his recovery. a few days before he had escaped death in the royal palace as if by a miracle, and he owed his deliverance to the woman he loved. in the temple of nemesis at tennis the conviction that the goddess had ceased to persecute him took possession of his mind. true, his blind eyes had been unable to see her menacing statue, but not even the slightest thrill of horror had seized him in its presence. in alexandria, after his departure from proclus's banquet, she had desisted from pursuing him. else how would she have permitted him to escape uninjured when he was already standing upon the verge of an abyss, and a wave of her hand would have sufficed to hurl him into the death-dealing gulf? but his swift confession, and the transformation which followed it, had reconciled him not only with her, but also with the other gods; for they appeared to him in forms as radiant and friendly as in the days of his boyhood, when, while bias took the helm on the long voyage through the canal and the bitter lakes, he recalled the visible world to his memory and, from the rising sun, phoebus apollo, the lord of light and purity, gazed at him from his golden chariot, drawn by four horses, and aphrodite, the embodiment of all beauty, rose before him from the snowy foam of the azure waves. demeter, in the form of daphne, appeared, dispensing prosperity, above the swaying golden waves of the ripening grain fields and bestowing peace beside the domestic hearth. the whole world once more seemed peopled with deities, and he felt their rule in his own breast. the place of which bias had told him was situated on a lofty portion of the shore. beside the springs which there gushed from the soil of the desert grew green palm trees and thorny acacias. farther on flourished the fragrant betharan. about a thousand paces from this spot the faithful freedman pitched the little tent obtained in tennis under the shade of several tall palm trees and a sejal acacia. not far from the springs lived the same family of amalekites whom bias had known from boyhood. they raised a few vegetables in little beds, and the men acted as guards to the caravans which came from egypt through the peninsula of sinai to petrea and hebron. the daughter of the aged sheik whose men accompanied the trains of goods, a pleasant, middle-aged woman, recognised the biamite, who when a boy had recovered under her mother's nursing, and promised bias to honour his blind master as a valued guest of the tribe. not until after he had done everything in his power to render life in the wilderness endurable, and had placed a fresh bandage over his eyes, would bias leave his master. the freedman entered the boat weeping, and hermon, deeply agitated, turned his face toward him. when he was left alone with his egyptian slave, with whom he rarely exchanged a word, he fancied that, amid the murmur of the waves washing the strand at his feet, blended the sounds of the street which led past his house in alexandria, and with them all sorts of disagreeable memories crowded upon him; but soon he no longer heard them, and the next night brought refreshing sleep. even on the second day he felt that the profound silence which surrounded him was a benefit. the stillness affected him like something physical. the life was certainly monotonous, and at first there were hours when the course of the new existence, so devoid of any change, op pressed him, but he experienced no tedium. his mental life was too rich, and the unburdening of his anxious soul too great a relief for that. he had shunned serious thought since he left the philosopher's school; but here it soon afforded him the highest pleasure, for never had his mind moved so freely, so undisturbed by any limit or obstacle. he did not need to search for what he hoped to find in the wilderness. his whole past life passed before him as if by its own volition. all that he had ever experienced, learned, thought, felt, rose before his mind with wonderful distinctness, and when he overlooked all his mental possessions, as if from a high watch-tower in the bright sunshine, he began to consider how he had used the details and how he could continue to do so. whatever he had seen incorrectly forced itself resistlessly upon him, yet here also the greek nature, deeply implanted in his soul, guarded him, and it was easy for him to avoid self-torturing remorse. he only desired to utilize for improvement what he recognised as false. when in this delicious silence he listened to the contradictory demands of his intellect and his senses, it often seemed as though he was present at a discussion between two guests who were exchanging their opinions concerning the subject that occupied his mind. here he first learned to deepen sound intellectual power and listen to the demands of the heart, or to repulse and condemn them. ah, yes, he was still blind; but never had he observed and recognised human life and its stage, down to the minutest detail, which his eyes refused to show him, so keenly as during these clays. the phenomena which had attracted or repelled his vision here appeared nearer and more distinctly. what he called "reality" and believed he understood thoroughly and estimated correctly, now disclosed many a secret which had previously remained concealed. how defective his visual perception had been! how necessary it now seemed to subject his judgment to a new test! doubtless a wealth of artistic subjects had come to him from the world of reality which he had placed far above everything else, but a greater and nobler one from the sphere which he had shunned as unfruitful and corrupting. as if by magic, the world of ideality opened before him in this exquisite silence. he again found in his own soul the joyous creative forces of nature, and the surrounding stillness increased tenfold his capacity of perceiving it; nay, he felt as if creative energy dwelt in solitude itself. his mind had always turned toward greatness. the desire to impress his works with the stamp of his own overflowing power had carried him far beyond moderation in modelling his struggling maenads. now, when he sought for subjects, beside the smaller and more simple ones appeared mighty and manifold ones, often of superhuman grandeur. oh, if a higher power would at some future day permit him to model with his strong hands this battle of the amazons, this phoebus apollo, radiant in beauty and the glow of victory, conquering the dragons of darkness! arachne, too, returned to his mind, and also demeter. but she did not hover before him as the peaceful dispenser of blessings, the preserver of peace, but as the maternal earth goddess, robbed of her daughter proserpina. how varied in meaning was this myth!--and he strove to follow it in every direction. nothing more could come to the blind artist from nature by the aid of his physical vision. the realm of reality was closed to him; but he had found the key to that of the ideal, and what he found in it proved to be no less true than the objects the other had offered. how rich in forms was the new world which forced itself unbidden on his imagination! he who, a short time before, had believed whatever could not be touched by the hands was useless for his art, now had the choice among a hundred subjects, full of glowing life, which were attainable by no organ of the senses. he need fear to undertake none, if only it was worthy of representation; for he was sure of his ability, and difficulty did not alarm him, but promised to lend creating for the first time its true charm. and, besides, without the interest of animated conversation, without festal scenes where, with garlanded head and intoxicating pleasure soaring upward from the dust of earth, existence had seemed to him shallow and not worth the trouble it imposed upon mortals, solitude now offered him hours as happy as he had ever experienced while revelling with gay companions. at first many things had disturbed them, especially the dissatisfied, almost gloomy disposition of his egyptian slave, who, born in the city and accustomed to its life, found it unbearable to stay in the desert with the strange blind master, who lived like a porter, and ordered him to prepare his wretched fare with the hands skilled in the use of the pen. but this living disturber of the peace was not to annoy the recluse long. scarcely a fortnight after bias's departure, the slave patran, who had cost so extravagant a sum, vanished one morning with the sculptor's money and silver cup. this rascally trick of a servant whom he had treated with almost brotherly kindness wounded hermon, but he soon regarded the morose fellow's disappearance as a benefit. when for the first time he drank water from an earthen jug, instead of a silver goblet, he thought of diogenes, who cast his cup aside when he saw a boy raise water to his lips in his hand, yet with whom the great macedonian conqueror of the world would have changed places "if he had not been alexander." the active, merry son of bias's amalekite friend gladly rendered him the help and guidance for which he had been reluctant to ask his ill-tempered slave, and he soon became accustomed to the simple fare of the nomads. bread and milk, fruits and vegetables from his neighbour's little garden, satisfied him, and when the wine he had drunk was used, he contented himself, obedient to old tabus's advice, with pure water. as he still had several gold coins on his person, and wore two costly rings on his finger, he doubtless thought of sending to clysma for meat, poultry, and wine, but he had refrained from doing so through the advice of the amalekite woman, who anointed his eyes with tabus's salve and protected them by a shade of fresh leaves from the dazzling rays of the desert sun. she, like the sorceress on the owl's nest, warned him against all viands that inflamed the blood, and he willingly allowed her to take away what she and her gray-haired father, the experienced head of the tribe, pronounced detrimental to his recovery. at first the "beggar's fare" seemed repulsive, but he soon felt that it was benefiting him after the riotous life of the last few months. one day, when the amalekite took off his bandage, he thought he saw a faint glimmer of light, and how his heart exulted at this faint foretaste of the pleasure of sight! in an instant hope sprang up with fresh power in his excitable soul, and his lost cheerfulness returned to him like a butterfly to the newly opened flower. the image of his beloved daphne rose before him in sunny radiance, and he saw himself in his studio in the service of his art. he had always been fond of children, and the little ones in the amalekite family quickly discovered this, and crowded around their blind friend, who played all sorts of games with them, and in spite of the bandaged eyes, over which spread a broad shade of green leaves, could make whistles with his skilful artist hands from the reeds and willow branches they brought. he saw before him the object to which his heart still clung as distinctly as if he need only stretch out his hand to draw it nearer, and perhaps-surely and certainly, the amalekite said--the time would come when he would behold it also with his bodily eyes. if the longing should be fulfilled! if his eyes were again permitted to convey to him what formerly filled his soul with delight! yes, beauty-was entitled to a higher place than truth, and if it again unfolded itself to his gaze, how gladly and gratefully he would pay homage to it with his art! the hope that he might enjoy it once more now grew stronger, for the glimmer of light became brighter, and one day, when his skilful nurse again took the bandage from his milk-white pupils, he saw something long appear, as if through, a mist. it was only the thorny acacia tree at his tent; but the sight of the most beautiful of beautiful things never filled him with more joyful gratitude. then he ordered the less valuable of his two rings to be sold to offer a sacrifice to health-bestowing isis, who had a little temple in clysma. how fervently he now prayed also to the great apollo, the foe of darkness and the lord of everything light and pure! how yearningly he besought aphrodite to bless him again with the enjoyment of eternal beauty, and eros to heal the wound which his arrow had inflicted upon his heart and daphne's, and bring them together after so much distress and need! when, after the lapse of another week, the bandage was again removed, his inmost soul rejoiced, for his eyes showed him the rippling emerald-green surface of the red sea, and the outlines of the palms, the tents, the amalekite woman, her boy, and her two long-eared goats. how ardently he thanked the gracious deities who, in spite of straton's precepts, were no mere figments of human imagination and, as if he had become a child again, poured forth his overflowing heart with mute gratitude to his mother's soul! the artist nature, yearning to create, began to stir within more ceaselessly than ever before. already he saw clay and wax assuming forms beneath his skilful hands; already he imagined himself, with fresh power and delight, cutting majestic figures from blocks of marble, or, by hammering, carving, and filing, shaping them from gold and ivory. and he would not take what he intended to create solely from the world of reality perceptible to the senses. oh, no! he desired to show through his art the loftiest of ideals. how could he still shrink from using the liberty which he had formerly rejected, the liberty of drawing from his own inner consciousness what he needed in order to bestow upon the ideal images he longed to create the grandeur, strength, and sublimity in which he beheld them rise before his purified soul! yet, with all this, he must remain faithful to truth, copy from nature what he desired to represent. every finger, every lock of hair, must correspond with reality to the minutest detail, and yet the whole must be pervaded and penetrated, as the blood flows through the body, by the thought that filled his mind and soul. a reflected image of the ideal and of his own mood, faithful to truth, free, and yet obedient to the demands of moderation--in this sentence hermon summed up the result of his solitary meditations upon art and works of art. since he had found the gods again, he perceived that the muse had confided to him a sacerdotal office. he intended to perform its duties, and not only attract and please the beholder's eyes through his works, but elevate his heart and mind, as beauty, truth, grandeur, and eternity uplifted his own soul. he recognised in the tireless creative power which keeps nature ever new, fresh, and bewitching, the presence of the same deity whose rule manifested itself in the life of his own soul. so long as he denied its existence, he had recognised no being more powerful than himself; now that he again felt insignificant beside it, he knew himself to be stronger than ever before, that the greatest of all powers had become his ally. now it was difficult for him to understand how he could have turned away from the deity. as an artist he, too, was a creator, and, while he believed those who considered the universe had come into existence of itself, instead of having been created, he had robbed himself of the most sublime model. besides, the greatest charm of his noble profession was lost to him. now he knew it, and was striving toward the goal attainable by the artist alone among mortals--to hold intercourse with the deity, and by creations full of its essence elevate the world to its grandeur and beauty. one day, at the end of the second month of his stay in the desert, when the amalekite woman removed the bandage, her boy, whose form he distinguished as if through a veil, suddenly exclaimed: "the white cover on your eyes is melting! they are beginning to sparkle a little, and soon they will be perfectly well, and you can carve the lion's head on my cane." perhaps the artist might really have succeeded in doing so, but he forbade himself the attempt. he thought that the time for departure had now arrived, and an irresistible longing urged him back to the world and daphne. but he could not resist the entreaties of the old sheik and his daughter not to risk what he had gained, so he continued to use the shade of leaves, and allowed himself to be persuaded to defer his departure until the dimness which still prevented his seeing anything distinctly passed away. true, the beautiful peace which he had enjoyed of late was over and, besides, anxiety for the dear ones in distant lands was constantly increasing. he had had no news of them for a long time, and when he imagined what fate might have overtaken archias, and his daughter with him, if he had been carried back to the enraged king in alexandria, a terrible dread took possession of him, which scattered even joy in his wonderful recovery to the four winds, and finally led him to the resolution to return to the world at any risk and devote himself to those whose fate was nearer to his heart than his own weal and woe. etext editor's bookmarks: forbidden the folly of spoiling the present by remorse two griefs always belong to one joy this ebook was produced by david widger <widger@cecomet.net> [note: there is a short list of bookmarks, or pointers, at the end of the file for those who may wish to sample the author's ideas before making an entire meal of them. d.w.] the autobiography of georg ebers the story of my life from childhood to manhood volume 1. translated from the german by mary j. safford to my sons. when i began the incidents of yore, still in my soul's depths treasured, to record, a voice within said: soon, life's journey o'er, thy portrait sole remembrance will afford. and, ere the last hour also strikes for thee, search thou the harvest of the vanished years. not futile was thy toil, if thou canst see that for thy sons fruit from one seed appears. upon the course of thine own life look back, follow thy struggles upwards to the light; methinks thy errors will not seem so black, if they thy loved ones serve to guide aright. and should they see the star which 'mid the dark illumed thy pathway to thy distant goal, thither they'll turn the prow of their life bark; its radiance their course also will control. ay, when the ivy on my grave doth grow, when my dead hand the helm no more obeys, this book to them the twofold light will show, to which i ne'er forget to turn my gaze. one heavenward draws, with rays so mild and clear, eyes dim with tears, when the world darkness veils, showing 'mid desert wastes the spring anear, if, spent with wandering, your courage fails. since first your lips could syllable a prayer, its mercy you have proved a thousandfold; i too received it, though unto my share fell what i pray life ne'er for you may hold. the other light, whose power full well you know, e'en though in words i nor describe nor name, alike for me and you its rays aye glow- maternal love, by day and night the same. this light within your youthful hearts has beamed, ripening the germs of all things good and fair; i also fostered them, and joyous dreamed of future progress to repay our care. thus guarded, unto manhood you have grown; still upward, step by step, you steadfast rise the oldest, healing's noble art has won; the second, to his country's call replies; the third, his mind to form is toiling still; and as this book to you i dedicate, i see the highest wish life could fulfil in you, my trinity, now incarnate. to pay it homage meet, my sons i'll guide as i revere it, 'mid the world's turmoil, love for mankind, which putteth self aside, in love for native land and blessed toil. georg ebers. totzing on the starnberger see, october 1, 1892. introduction. in this volume, which has all the literary charm and deftness of character drawing that distinguish his novels, dr. ebers has told the story of his growth from childhood to maturity, when the loss of his health forced the turbulent student to lead a quieter life, and inclination led him to begin his egyptian studies, which resulted, first of all, in the writing of an egyptian princess, then in his travels in the land of the pharaohs and the discovery of the ebers papyrus (the treatise on medicine dating from the second century b.c.), and finally in the series of brilliant historical novels that has borne his name to the corners of the earth and promises to keep it green forever. this autobiography carries the reader from 1837, the year of dr. ebers's birth in berlin, to 1863, when an egyptian princess was finished. the subsequent events of his life were outwardly calm, as befits the existence of a great scientist and busy romancer, whose fecund fancy was based upon a groundwork of minute historical research. dr. ebers attracted the attention of the learned world by his treatise on egypt and the book of moses, which brought him a professorship at his university, gottingen, in 1864, the year following the close of this autobiography. his marriage to the daughter of a burgomaster of riga took place soon afterward. during the long years of their union mrs. ebers was his active helpmate, many of the business details relating to his works and their american and english editions being transacted by her. after his first visit to egypt, ebers was called to the university of leipsic to fill the chair of egyptology. he went again to egypt in 1872, and in the course of his excavations at thebes unearthed the ebers papyrus already referred to, which established his name among the leaders of what was then still a new science, whose foundations had been laid by champollion in 1821. ebers continued to occupy his chair at the leipsic university, but, while fulfilling admirably the many duties of a german professorship, he found time to write several of his novels. uarda was published in 1876, twelve years after the appearance of an egyptian princess, to be followed in quick succession by homo sum, the sisters, the emperor, and all that long line of brilliant pictures of antiquity. he began his series of tales of the middle ages and the dawn of the modern era in 1881 with the burgomaster's wife. in 1889 the precarious state of his health forced him to resign his chair at the university. notwithstanding his sufferings and the obstacles they placed in his path, he continued his wonderful intellectual activity until the end. his last novel, arachne, was issued but a short time before his death, which took place on august 7, 1898, at the villa ebers, in tutzing, on the starenberg lake, near munich, where most of his later life was spent. the monument erected to his memory by his own indefatigable activity consists of sixteen novels, all of them of perennial value to historical students, as well as of ever-fresh charm to lovers of fiction, many treatises on his chosen branch of learning, two great works of reference on egypt and palestine, and short stories, fairy tales, and biographies. the story of my life is characterized by a captivating freshness. ebers was born under a lucky star, and the pictures of his early home life, his restless student days at that romantic old seat of learning, gottingen, are bright, vivacious, and full of colour. the biographer, historian, and educator shows himself in places, especially in the sketches of the brothers grimm, and of froebel, at whose institute, keilhau, ebers received the foundation of his education. his discussion of froebel's method and of that of his predecessor, pestalozzi, is full of interest, because written with enthusiasm and understanding. he was a good german, in the largest sense of the word, and this trait, too, is brought forward in his reminiscences of the turbulent days of 1848 in berlin. the story of dr. ebers's early life was worth the telling, and he has told it himself, as no one else could tell it, with all the consummate skill of his perfected craftsmanship, with all the reverent love of an admiring son, and with all the happy exuberance of a careless youth remembered in all its brightness in the years of his maturity. finally, the book teaches a beautiful lesson of fortitude in adversity, of suffering patiently borne and valiantly overcome by a spirit that, greatly gifted by nature, exercised its strength until the thin silver lining illuminated the apparently impenetrable blackness of the cloud that overhung georg moritz ebers's useful and successful life. the story of my life. by georg ebers contents. book 1. i. -glancing backward. ii. -my earliest childhood iii. -on festal days iv. -the journey to holland to attend the golden wedding v. -lennestrasse.--lenne--early impressions book 2. vi. -my introduction to art, and acquaintances vii. -what a berlin child enjoyed on the spree and grandmother's viii. -the revolutionary period ix. -the eighteenth of march book3. x. -after the night of revolution xi. -in keilhau xii -friedrich froebel's ideal of education book 4. xiii. -the founders of the keilhau institute xiv. -in the forest and on the moor. xv. -summer pleasures and rambles xvi. -autumn, winter, easter, and departure book 5. xvii. -the gymnasium and the first period of university life xviii. -the time of effervescence and my schoolmates xix. -a romance which really happened xx. -at the quedlinburg gymnasium book 6. xxi. -at the university xxii. -the shipwreck xxiii. -the hardest time in the school of life xxiv. -the apprenticeship xxv. -the summers of my convalescence xxvi. -continuance of convalescence and the first novel the story of my life. book 1. chapter i. glancing backward. though i was born in berlin, it was also in the country. true, it was fifty-five years ago; for my birthday was march 1, 1837, and at that time the house--[no. 4 thiergartenstrasse]--where i slept and played during the first years of my childhood possessed, besides a field and a meadow, an orchard and dense shrubbery, even a hill and a pond. three big horses, the property of the owner of our residence, stood in the stable, and the lowing of a cow, usually an unfamiliar sound to berlin children, blended with my earliest recollections. the thiergartenstrasse--along which in those days on sunny mornings, a throng of people on foot, on horseback, and in carriages constantly moved to and fro--ran past the front of these spacious grounds, whose rear was bounded by a piece of water then called the "schafgraben," and which, spite of the duckweed that covered it with a dark-green network of leafage, was used for boating in light skiffs. now a strongly built wall of masonry lines the banks of this ditch, which has been transformed into a deep canal bordered by the handsome houses of the konigin augustastrasse, and along which pass countless heavily laden barges called by the berliners "zillen." the land where i played in my childhood has long been occupied by the matthaikirche, the pretty street which bears the same name, and a portion of konigin augustastrasse, but the house which we occupied and its larger neighbour are still surrounded by a fine garden. this was an eden for city children, and my mother had chosen it because she beheld it in imagination flowing with the true garden of paradise rivers of health and freedom for her little ones. my father died on the 14th of february, 1837, and on the 1st of march of the same year i was born, a fortnight after the death of the man in whom my mother was bereft of both husband and lover. so i am what is termed a "posthumous" child. this is certainly a sorrowful fate; but though there were many hours, especially in the later years of my life, in which i longed for a father, it often seemed to me a noble destiny and one worthy of the deepest gratitude to have been appointed, from the first moment of my existence, to one of the happiest tasks, that of consolation and cheer. it was to soothe a mother's heartbreak that i came in the saddest hours of her life, and, though my locks are now grey, i have not forgotten the joyful moments in which that dear mother hugged her fatherless little one, and among other pet names called him her "comfort child." she told me also that posthumous children were always fortune's favorites, and in her wise, loving way strove to make me early familiar with the thought that god always held in his special keeping those children whose fathers he had taken before their birth. this confidence accompanied me through all my after life. as i have said, it was long before i became aware that i lacked anything, especially any blessing so great as a father's faithful love and care; and when life showed to me also a stern face and imposed heavy burdens, my courage was strengthened by my happy confidence that i was one of fortune's favorites, as others are buoyed up by their firm faith in their "star." when the time at last came that i longed to express the emotions of my soul in verse, i embodied my mother's prediction in the lines: the child who first beholds the light of day after his father's eyes are closed for aye, fortune will guard from every threatening ill, for god himself a father's place will fill. people often told me that as the youngest, the nestling, i was my mother's "spoiled child"; but if anything spoiled me it certainly was not that. no child ever yet received too many tokens of love from a sensible mother; and, thank heaven, the word applied to mine. fate had summoned her to be both father and mother to me and my four brothers and sistersone little brother, her second child, had died in infancy--and she proved equal to the task. everything good which was and is ours we owe to her, and her influence over us all, and especially over me, who was afterward permitted to live longest in close relations with her, was so great and so decisive, that strangers would only half understand these stories of my childhood unless i gave a fuller description of her. these details are intended particularly for my children, my brothers and sisters, and the dear ones connected with our family by ties of blood and friendship, but i see no reason for not making them also accessible to wider circles. there has been no lack of requests from friends that i should write them, and many of those who listen willingly when i tell romances will doubtless also be glad to learn something concerning the life of the fabulist, who, however, in these records intends to silence imagination and adhere rigidly to the motto of his later life, "to be truthful in love." my mother's likeness as a young woman accompanies these pages, and must spare me the task of describing her appearance. it was copied from the life-size portrait completed for the young husband by schadow just prior to his appointment as head of the dusseldorf academy of art, and now in the possession of my brother, dr. martin ebers of berlin. unfortunately, our copy lacks the colouring; and the dress of the original, which shows the whole figure, confirms the experience of the error committed in faithfully reproducing the fashion of the day in portraits intended for future generations. it never fully satisfied me; for it very inadequately reproduces what was especially precious to us in our mother and lent her so great a charm--her feminine grace, and the tenderness of heart so winningly expressed in her soft blue eyes. no one could help pronouncing her beautiful; but to me she was at once the fairest and the best of women, and if i make the suffering stephanus in homo sum say, "for every child his own mother is the best mother," mine certainly was to me. my heart rejoiced when i perceived that every one shared this appreciation. at the time of my birth she was thirtyfive, and, as i have heard from many old acquaintances, in the full glow of her beauty. my father had been one of the berlin gentlemen to whose spirit of selfsacrifice and taste for art the konigstadt theater owed its prosperity, and was thus brought into intimate relations with carl von holtei, who worked for its stage both as dramatist and actor. when, as a young professor, i told the grey-haired author in my mother's name something which could not fail to afford him pleasure, i received the most eager assent to my query whether he still remembered her. "how i thank your admirable mother for inducing you to write!" ran the letter. "only i must enter a protest against your first lines, suggesting that i might have forgotten her. i forget the beautiful, gentle, clever, steadfast woman who (to quote shakespeare's words) 'came adorned hither like sweet may,' and, stricken by the hardest blows so soon after her entrance into her new life, gloriously endured every trial of fate to become the fairest bride, the noblest wife, most admirable widow, and most faithful mother! no, my young unknown friend, i have far too much with which to reproach myself, have brought from the conflicts of a changeful life a lacerated heart, but i have never reached the point where that heart ceased to cherish fanny ebers among the most sacred memories of my chequered career. how often her loved image appears before me when, in lonely twilight hours, i recall the past!" yes, fate early afforded my mother an opportunity to test her character. the city where shortly before my birth she became a widow was not her native place. my father had met her in holland, when he was scarcely more than a beardless youth. the letter informing his relatives that he had determined not to give up the girl his heart had chosen was not regarded seriously in berlin; but when the lover, with rare pertinacity, clung to his resolve, they began to feel anxious. the eldest son of one of the richest families in the city, a youth of nineteen, wished to bind himself for life--and to a foreigner--a total stranger. my mother often told us that her father, too, refused to listen to the young suitor, and how, during that time of conflict, while she was with her family at scheveningen, a travelling carriage drawn by four horses stopped one day before her parents' unpretending house. from this coach descended the future mother-in-law. she had come to see the paragon of whom her son had written so enthusiastically, and to learn whether it would be possible to yield to the youth's urgent desire to establish a household of his own. and she did find it possible; for the girl's rare beauty and grace speedily won the heart of the anxious woman who had really come to separate the lovers. true, they were required to wait a few years to test the sincerity of their affection. but it withstood the proof, and the young man, who had been sent to bordeaux to acquire in a commercial house the ability to manage his father's banking business, did not hesitate an instant when his beautiful fiancee caught the smallpox and wrote that her smooth face would probably be disfigured by the malignant disease, but answered that what he loved was not only her beauty but the purity and goodness of her tender heart. this had been a severe test, and it was to be rewarded: not the smallest scar remained to recall the illness. when my father at last made my mother his wife, the burgomaster of her native city told him that he gave to his keeping the pearl of rotterdam. post-horses took the young couple in the most magnificent weather to the distant prussian capital. it must have been a delightful journey, but when the horses were changed in potsdam the bride and groom received news that the latter's father was dead. so my parents entered a house of mourning. my mother at that time had only the slight mastery of german acquired during hours of industrious study for her future husband's sake. she did not possess in all berlin a single friend or relative of her own family, yet she soon felt at home in the capital. she loved my father. heaven gave her children, and her rare beauty, her winning charm, and the receptivity of her mind quickly opened all hearts to her in circles even wider than her husband's large family connection. the latter included many households whose guests numbered every one whose achievements in science or art, or possession of large wealth, had rendered them prominent in berlin, and the "beautiful hollander," as my mother was then called, became one of the most courted women in society. holtei had made her acquaintance at this time, and it was a delight to hear her speak of those gay, brilliant days. how often baron von humboldt, rauch, or schleiermacher had escorted her to dinner! hegel had kept a blackened coin won from her at whist. whenever he sat down to play cards with her he liked to draw it out, and, showing it to his partner, say, "my thaler, fair lady." my mother, admired and petted, had thoroughly enjoyed the happy period of my father's lifetime, entertaining as a hospitable hostess or visiting friends, and she gladly recalled it. but this brilliant life, filled to overflowing with all sorts of amusements, had been interrupted just before my birth. the beloved husband had died, and the great wealth of our family, though enough remained for comfortable maintenance, had been much diminished. such changes of outward circumstances are termed reverses of fortune, and the phrase is fitting, for by them life gains a new form. yet real happiness is more frequently increased than lessened, if only they do not entail anxiety concerning daily bread. my mother's position was far removed from this point; but she possessed qualities which would have undoubtedly enabled her, even in far more modest circumstances, to retain her cheerfulness and fight her way bravely with her children through life. the widow resolved that her sons should make their way by their own industry, like her brothers, who had almost all become able officials in the dutch colonial service. besides, the change in her circumstances brought her into closer relations with persons with whom by inclination and choice she became even more intimately associated than with the members of my father's family--i mean the clique of scholars and government officials amid whose circle her children grew up, and whom i shall mention later. our relatives, however, even after my father's death, showed the same regard for my mother--who on her side was sincerely attached to many of them--and urged her to accept the hospitality of their homes. i, too, when a child, still more in later years, owe to the beer family many a happy hour. my father's cousin, moritz von oppenfeld, whose wife was an ebers, was also warmly attached to us. he lived in a house which he owned on the pariser platz, now occupied by the french embassy, and in whose spacious apartments and elsewhere his kind heart and tender love prepared countless pleasures for our young lives. chapter ii. my earliest childhood my father died in leipzigerstrasse, where, two weeks after, i was born. it is reported that i was an unusually sturdy, merry little fellow. one of my father's relatives, frau mosson, said that i actually laughed on the third day of my life, and several other proofs of my precocious cheerfulness were related by this lady. so i must believe that--less wise than lessing's son, who looked at life and thought it would be more prudent to turn his back upon it--i greeted with a laugh the existence which, amid beautiful days of sunshine, was to bring me so many hours of suffering. spring was close at hand; the house in noisy leipzigerstrasse was distasteful to my mother, her soul longed for rest, and at that time she formed the resolutions according to which she afterward strove to train her boys to be able men. her first object was to obtain pure air for the little children, and room for the larger ones to exercise. so she looked for a residence outside the gate, and succeeded in renting for a term of years no. 4 thiergartenstrasse, which i have already mentioned. the owner, frau kommissionsrath reichert, had also lost her husband a short time before, and had determined to let the house, which stood near her own, stand empty rather than rent it to a large family of children. alone herself, she shrank from the noise of growing boys and girls. but she had a warm, kind heart, and--she told me this herself--the sight of the beautiful young mother in her deep mourning made her quickly forget her prejudice. "if she had brought ten bawlers instead of five," she remarked, "i would not have refused the house to that angel face." we all cherish a kindly memory of the vigorous, alert woman, with her round, bright countenance and laughing eyes. she soon became very intimate with my mother, and my second sister, paula, was her special favorite, on whom she lavished every indulgence. her horses were the first ones on which i was lifted, and she often took us with her in the carriage or sent us to ride in it. i still remember distinctly some parts of our garden, especially the shady avenue leading from our balcony on the ground floor to the schafgraben, the pond, the beautiful flower-beds in front of frau reichert's stately house, and the field of potatoes where i--the gardener was the huntsman--saw my first partridge shot. this was probably on the very spot where for many years the notes of the organ have pealed through the matthaikirche, and the word of god has been expounded to a congregation whose residences stand on the playground of my childhood. the house which sheltered us was only two stories high, but pretty and spacious. we needed abundant room, for, besides my mother, the five children, and the female servants, accommodation was required for the governess, and a man who held a position midway between porter and butler and deserved the title of factotum if any one ever did. his name was kurschner; he was a big-boned, square-built fellow about thirty years old, who always wore in his buttonhole the little ribbon of the order he had gained as a soldier at the siege of antwerp, and who had been taken into the house by our mother for our protection, for in winter our home, surrounded by its spacious grounds, was very lonely. as for us five children, first came my oldest sister martha--now, alas! dead--the wife of lieutenant-colonel baron curt von brandenstein, and my brother martin, who were seven and five years older than i. they were, of course, treated differently from us younger ones. paula was my senior by three years; ludwig, or ludo--he was called by his nickname all his life--by a year and a half. paula, a fresh, pretty, bright, daring child, was often the leader in our games and undertakings. ludo, who afterward became a soldier and as a prussian officer did good service in the war, was a gentle boy, somewhat delicate in health--the broad-shouldered man shows no trace of it--and the best of playfellows. we were always together, and were frequently mistaken for twins. we shared everything, and on my birthday, gifts were bestowed on him too; on his, upon me. each had forgotten the first person singular of the personal pronoun, and not until comparatively late in life did i learn to use "i" and "me" in the place of "we" and "us." the sequence of events in this quiet country home has, of course, vanished from my mind, and perhaps many which i mention here occurred in lennestrasse, where we moved later, but the memories of the time we spent in the thiergarten overlooked by our second home--are among the brightest of my life. how often the lofty trees and dense shrubbery of our own grounds and the beautiful berlin thiergarten rise before my mental vision, when my thoughts turn backward and i see merry children playing among them, and hear their joyous laughter! fairy tales and fact. what happened in the holy of holies, my mother's chamber, has remained, down to the smallest details, permanently engraved upon my soul. a mother's heart is like the sun--no matter how much light it diffuses, its warmth and brilliancy never lessen; and though so lavish a flood of tenderness was poured forth on me, the other children were no losers. but i was the youngest, the comforter, the nestling; and never was the fact of so much benefit to me as at that time. my parents' bed stood in the green room with the bright carpet. it had been brought from holland, and was far larger and wider than bedsteads of the present day. my mother had kept it. a quilted silk coverlet was spread over it, which felt exquisitely soft, and beneath which one could rest delightfully. when the time for rising came, my mother called me. i climbed joyfully into her warm bed, and she drew her darling into her arms, played all sorts of pranks with him, and never did i listen to more beautiful fairy tales than at those hours. they became instinct with life to me, and have always remained so; for my mother gave them the form of dramas, in which i was permitted to be an actor. the best one of all was little red riding hood. i played the little girl who goes into the wood, and she was the wolf. when the wicked beast had disguised itself in the grandmother's cap i not only asked the regulation questions: "grandmother, what makes you have such big eyes? grandmother, why is your skin so rough?" etc., but invented new ones to defer the grand final effect, which followed the words, "grandmother, why do you have such big, sharp teeth?" and the answer, "so that i can eat you," whereupon the wolf sprang on me and devoured me--with kisses. another time i was snow-white and she the wicked step-mother, and also the hunter, the dwarf, and the handsome prince who married her. how real this merry sport made the distress of persecuted innocence, the terrors and charm of the forest, the joys and splendours of the fairy realm! if the flowers in the garden had raised their voices in song, if the birds on the boughs had called and spoken to me--nay, if a tree had changed into a beautiful fairy, or the toad in the damp path of our shaded avenue into a witch--it would have seemed only natural. it is a singular thing that actual events which happened in those early days have largely vanished from my memory; but the fairy tales i heard and secretly experienced became firmly impressed on my mind. education and life provided for my familiarity with reality in all its harshness and angles, its strains and hurts; but who in later years could have flung wide the gates of the kingdom where everything is beautiful and good, and where ugliness is as surely doomed to destruction as evil to punishment? even poesy in our times turns from the castalian fount whose crystal-clear water becomes an unclean pool and, though reluctantly, obeys the impulse to make its abode in the dust of reality. therefore i plead with voice and pen in behalf of fairy tales; therefore i tell them to my children and grandchildren, and have even written a volume of them myself. how perverse and unjust it is to banish the fairy tale from the life of the child, because devotion to its charm might prove detrimental to the grown person! has not the former the same claim to consideration as the latter? every child is entitled to expect a different treatment and judgment, and to receive what is his due undiminished. therefore it is unjust to injure and rob the child for the benefit of the man. are we even sure that the boy is destined to attain the second and third stages--youth and manhood? true, there are some apostles of caution who deny themselves every joy of existence while in their prime, in order, when their locks are grey, to possess wealth which frequently benefits only their heirs. all sensible mothers will doubtless, like ours, take care that their children do not believe the stories which they tell them to be true. i do not remember any time when, if my mind had been called upon to decide, i should have thought that anything i invented myself had really happened; but i know that we were often unable to distinguish whether the plausible tale related by some one else belonged to the realm of fact or fiction. on such occasions we appealed to my mother, and her answer instantly set all doubts at rest; for we thought she could never be mistaken, and knew that she always told the truth. as to the stories invented by myself, i fared like other imaginative children. i could imagine the most marvellous things about every member of the household, and while telling them--but only during that time--i often fancied that they were true; yet the moment i was asked whether these things had actually occurred, it seemed as if i woke from a dream. i at once separated what i had imagined from what i had actually experienced, and it would never have occurred to me to persist against my better knowledge. so the vividly awakened power of imagination led neither me, my brothers and sisters, nor my children and grandchildren into falsehood. in after years i abhorred it, not only because my mother would rather have permitted any other offence to pass unpunished, but because i had an opportunity of perceiving its ugliness very early in life. when only seven or eight years old i heard a boy--i still remember his name--tell his mother a shameless lie about some prank in which i had shared. i did not interrupt him to vindicate the truth, but i shrank in horror with the feeling of having witnessed a crime. if ludo and i, even in the most critical situations, adhered to the truth more rigidly than other boys, we "little ones" owe it especially to our sister paula, who was always a fanatic in its cause, and even now endures many an annoyance because she scorns the trivial "necessary fibs" deemed allowable by society. true, the interesting question of how far necessary fibs are justifiable among children, is yet to be considered; but what did we know of such necessity in our sports in the thiergarten? from what could a lie have saved us except a blow from a beloved mother's little hand, which, it is true, when any special misdeed was punished by a box on the ear, could inflict a tolerable amount of pain by means of the rings which adorned it. there is a tradition that once when she had slapped paula's pretty face, the odd child rubbed her cheek and said, with the droll calmness that rarely deserted her, "when you want to strike me again, mother, please take off your rings first." the governess--the cemetery. during the time we lived in the thiergarten my mother's hand scarcely ever touched my face except in a caress. every memory of her is bright and beautiful. i distinctly remember how merrily she jested and played with us, and from my earliest recollections her beloved face always greets me cheerily. yet she had moved to the thiergarten with a heart oppressed by the deepest sorrow. i know from the woman who accompanied her there as the governess of the two eldest children, and became a faithful friend, how deeply she needed consolation, how completely her feelings harmonized with the widow's weeds she wore, and in which she is said to have been so beautiful. the name of this rare woman was bernhardine kron. a native of mecklenburg, she united to rich and wide culture the sterling character, warmth of feeling, and fidelity of this sturdy and sympathetic branch of the german nation. she soon became deeply attached to the young widow, to whose children she was to devote her best powers, and, in after years, her eyes often grew dim when she spoke of the time during which she shared our mother's grief and helped her in her work of education. both liked to recall in later days the quiet evenings when, after the rest of the household had retired, they read alone or discussed what stirred their hearts. each gave the other what she could. the german governess went through our classic authors with her employer, and my mother read to her the works of racine and corneille, and urged her to speak french and english with her; for, like many natives of holland, her mastery of both languages was as thorough as if she had grown up in paris or london. the necessity of studying and sharing her own rich intellectual possessions continued to be a marked trait in my mother's character until late in life, and how much cause for gratitude we all have for the share she gave us of her own knowledge and experience! fraulein kron always deeply appreciated the intellectual development she owed to her employer, while the latter never forgot the comfort and support bestowed by the faithful governess in the most sorrowful days of her life. when i first became conscious of my surroundings, these days were over; but in saying that my first recollections of my mother were bright and cheerful, i forgot the hours devoted to my father's memory. she rarely brought them to our notice; a certain chaste reserve, even later in life, prevented her showing her deepest grief to others. she always strove to cope with her sorest trials alone. her sunny nature shrank from diffusing shadow and darkness around her. on the 14th of february, the anniversary of my father's death, wherever she might be, she always withdrew from the members of the household, and even her own children. a second occasion of sharing her sorrowful emotion was repeated several times every summer. this was the visit to the cemetery, which she rarely made alone. the visits impressed us all strongly, and the one i first remember could not have occurred later than my fifth year, for i distinctly recollect that frau rapp's horses took us to the churchyard. my father was buried in the dreifaltigkeitskirchhof,--[trinity churchyard]--just outside the halle gate. i found it so little changed when i entered it again, two years ago, that i could walk without a guide directly to the ebers family vault. but what a transformation had taken place in the way! when we visited it with my mother, which was always in carriages, for it was a long distance from our home, we drove quickly through the city, the gate, and as far as the spot where i found the stately pile of the brick kreuzkirche; then we turned to the right, and if we had come in cabs we children got out, it was so hard for the horses to drag the vehicles over the sandy road which led to the cemetery. during this walk we gathered blue cornflowers and scarlet poppies from the fields, bluebells, daisies, ranunculus, and snapdragon from the narrow border of turf along the roadside, and tied them into bouquets for the graves. my mother moved silently with us between the rows of grassy mounds, tombstones, and crosses, while we carried the pots of flowers and wreaths, which, to afford every one the pleasure of helping, she had distributed among us at the gravedigger's house, just back of the cemetery. our family burial place--my mother's stone cross now stands there beside my father's--was one of those bounded in the rear by the church yard wall; a marble slab set in the masonry bears the owner's name. it is large enough for us all, and lies at the right of the path between count kalckreuth's and the stately mausoleum which contains the earthly remains of moritz von oppenfeld--who was by far the dearest of our father's relatives--and his family. my mother led the way into the small enclosure, which was surrounded by an iron railing, and prayed or thought silently of the beloved dead who rested there. is there any way for us protestants, when love for the dead longs to find expression in action, except to adorn with flowers the places which contain their earthly remains? their bright hues and a child's beaming face are the only cheerful things which a mourner whose wounds are still bleeding freshly beside a coffin can endure to see, and i might compare flowers to the sound of bells. both are in place and welcome in the supreme moments of life. therefore my mother, besides a heart full of love, always brought to my father's grave children and flowers. when she had satisfied the needs of her own soul, she turned to us, and with cheerful composure directed the decoration of the mound. then she spoke of our father, and if any of us had recently incurred punishment--one instance of this kind is indelibly impressed on my memory--she passed her arms around the child, and in whispered words, which no one else could hear, entreated the son or daughter not to grieve her so again, but to remember the dead. such an admonition on this spot could not fail to produce its effect, and brought forgiveness with it. on our return our hands and hearts were free again, and we were at liberty to use our tongues. during these visits my interest in schleiermacher was awakened, for his grave--he died in 1834, three years before i was born--lay near our lot, and we often stopped before the stone erected by his friends, grateful pupils, and admirers. it was adorned with his likeness in marble; and my mother, who had frequently met him, pausing in front of it, told us about the keen-sighted theologian, philosopher, and pulpit orator, whose teachings, as i was to learn later, had exerted the most powerful influence upon my principal instructors at keilhau. she also knew his best enigmas; and the following one, whose terse brevity is unsurpassed: "parted i am sacred, united abominable"-she had heard him propound himself. the answer, "mein eid" (my oath), and "meineid" (perjury), every one knows. nothing was further from my mother's intention than to make these visits to the cemetery special memorial days; on the contrary, they were interwoven into our lives, not set at regular intervals or on certain dates, but when her heart prompted and the weather was favourable for out-ofdoor excursions. therefore they became associated in our minds with happy and sacred memories. chapter iii. on festal days the celebration of a memorial day by outward forms was one of my mother's customs; for, spite of her sincerity of feeling, she favoured external ceremonies, and tried when we were very young to awaken a sense of their meaning in our minds. on all festal occasions we children were freshly dressed from top to toe, and all of us, including the servants, had cakes at breakfast, and the older ones wine at dinner. on the birthdays these cakes were surrounded by as many candles as we numbered years, and provision was always made for a dainty arrangement of gifts. while we were young, my mother distinguished the "birthday child" --probably in accordance with some custom of her native country--by a silk scarf. she liked to celebrate her own birthday, too, and ever since i can remember--it was on the 25th of july--we had a picnic at that time. we knew that it was a pleasure to her to see us at her table on that day, and, up to the last years of her life, all whose vocations permitted met at her house on the anniversary. she went to church on sunday, and on good friday she insisted that my sisters as well as her self should wear black, not only during the service, but throughout the rest of the day. few children enjoyed a more beautiful christmas than ours, for under the tree adorned with special love each found the desire of his or her heart gratified, while behind the family gift-table there always stood another, on which several poorer people whom i might call "clients" of the household, discovered presents which suited their needs. among them, up to the time i went as a boy of eleven to keilhau, i never failed to see my oldest sister's nurse with her worthy husband, the shoemaker grossman, and their well-behaved children. she gladly permitted us to share in the distribution of the alms liberally bestowed on the needy. the seeming paradox, "no one ever grew poor by giving," i first heard from her lips, and she more than once found an opportunity to repeat it. we, however, never valued her gifts of money so highly as the trouble and inconveniences she cheerfully encountered to aid or add to the happiness of others by means of the numerous relations formed in her social life and the influence gained mainly by her own gracious nature. many who are now occupying influential positions owe their first start or have had the path smoothed for them by her kindness. as in many berlin families, the christmas man came to us--an old man disguised by a big beard and provided with a bag filled with nuts and bonbons and sometimes trifling gifts. he addressed us in a feigned voice, saying that the christ child had sent him, but the dainties he had were intended only for the good children who could recite some thing for him. of course, provision for doing this had been made. everybody pressed forward, but the christmas man kept order, and only when each had repeated a little verse did he open the bag and distribute its contents among us. usually the christmas man brought a companion, who followed him in the guise of knecht ruprecht with his own bag of presents, and mingled with his jests threats against naughty children. the carp served on christmas eve in every berlin family, after the distribution of gifts, and which were never absent from my mother's table, i have always had on my own in jena, leipsic, and munich, or wherever the evening of december 24th might find us. on the whole, we remain faithful to the christmas customs of my own home, which vary little from those of the germans in riga, where my wife's family belong; nay, it is so hard for me to relinquish such childish habits, that, when unable to procure a christmas tree for the two "eves" i spent on the nile, i decked a young palm and fastened candles on it. my mother's permission that knecht ruprecht should visit us was contrary to her principle never to allow us to be frightened by images of horror. nay, if she heard that the servants threatened us with the black man and other hobgoblins of berlin nursery tales, she was always very angry. the arguments by which my wife induced me to banish the christmas man and knecht ruprecht seem still more cogent, now that i think i understand the hearts of children. it is certainly far more beautiful and just as easyif we desire to utilize christmas gifts for educational purposes--to stimulate children to goodness by telling them of the pleasure it will give the little christ child, rather than by filling them with dread of knecht ruprecht. true, my mother did not fail to endeavor to inspire us with love for the christ child and the saviour, and to draw us near to him. she saw in him, above all else, the embodiment of love, and loved him because her loving heart understood his. in after years my own investigation and thought brought me to the same conviction which she had reached through the relation of her feminine nature to the person and teachings of her saviour. i perceived that the world as jesus christ found it owes him nothing grander, more beautiful, loftier, or more pregnant with importance than that he widened the circle of love which embraced only the individual, the family, the city, or, at the utmost, the country of which a person was a citizen, till it included all mankind, and this human love, of which my mother's life gave us practical proof, is the banner under which all the genuine progress of mankind in later years has been made. nineteen centuries have passed since the one that gave us him who died on the cross, and how far we are still from a perfect realization of this noblest of all the emotions of the heart and spirit! and yet, on the day when this human love has full sway, the social problems which now disturb so many minds and will permit the brains of our best citizens to take no rest, will be solved. other obligations to my mother, and a summary of the new and great events which befell the germans during my life. i omit saying more of my mother's religious feelings and relations to god, because i know that it would be contrary to her wishes to inform strangers of the glimpse she afterward afforded me of the inmost depths of her soul. that, like every other mother, she clasped our little hands in prayer is a matter of course. i could not fall asleep until she had done this and given me my good-night kiss. how often i have dreamed of her when, before going to some entertainment, she came in full evening dress to hear me repeat my little prayer and bid us good-bye! but she also provided most carefully for the outward life; nay, perhaps she laid a little too much stress upon our manners in greeting strangers, at table, and elsewhere. among these forms i might number the fluent use of the french language, which my mother early bestowed upon us as if its acquisition was mere sport-bestowed; for, unhappily, i know of no german grammar school where pupils can learn to speak french with facility; and how many never-to-beforgotten memories of travel, what great benefits during my period of study in paris i owe to this capacity! we obtained it by the help of bonnes, who found it easier to speak french to us because our mother always did the same in their presence. my mother considered it of the first importance to make us familiar with french at a very early age, because, when she reached berlin with a scanty knowledge of german, her mastery of french secured numerous pleasant things. she often told us how highly french was valued in the capital, and we must believe that the language possesses an imperishable charm for germans when we remember that this was the case so shortly after the glorious uprising against the terrible despotism of france. true, french, in addition to its melody and ambiguity, possesses more subtle turns and apt phrases than most other languages; and even the most german of germans, our bismarck, must recognize the fitness of its phrases, because he likes to avail himself of them. he has a perfect knowledge of french, and i have noticed that, whenever he mingles it with german, the former has some sentence which enables him to communicate in better and briefer language whatever he may desire to express. what german form of speech, for instance, can convey the idea of fulness which will permit no addition so well as the french popular saying, "full as an egg," which pleased me in its native land, and which first greeted me in germany as an expression used by the great chancellor? my mother's solicitude concerning good manners and perfection in speaking french, which so easily renders children mere dolls, fortunately could not deprive us of our natural freshness and freedom from constraint. but if any peril to the character does lurk in being unduly mindful of external forms, we three brothers were destined to spend a large portion of our boyhood amid surroundings which, as it were, led us back to nature. besides, even in berlin we were not forbidden to play like genuine boys. we had no lack of playmates of both sexes, and with them we certainly talked and shouted no french, but sturdy berlin german. in winter, too, we were permitted to enjoy ourselves out of doors, and few boys made handsomer snow-men than those our worthy kurschner--always with the order in his buttonhole--helped us build in thiergartenstrasse. in the house we were obliged to behave courteously, and when i recall the appearance of things there i become vividly aware that no series of years witnessed more decisive changes in every department of life in germany than those of my boyhood. the furnishing of the rooms differed little from that of the present day, except that the chairs and tables were somewhat more angular and the cushions less comfortable. instead of the little knobs of the electric bells, a so-called "bell-rope," about the width of one's hand, provided with a brass or metal handle, hung beside the doors. the first introduction of gas into the city was made by an english company about ten years before my birth; but how many oil lamps i still saw burning, and in my school days the manufacturing city of kottbus, which at that time contained about ten thousand inhabitants, was lighted by them! in my childhood gas was not used in the houses and theatres of berlin, and kerosene had not found its way to germany. the rooms were lighted by oil lamps and candles, while the servants burned tallow-dips. the latter were also used in our nursery, and during the years which i spent at school in keilhau all our studying was done by them. matches were not known. i still remember the tinder box in the kitchen, the steel, the flint, and the threads dipped in sulphur. the sparks made by striking fell on the tinder and caught it on fire here and there. soon after the long, rough lucifer matches appeared, which were dipped into a little bottle filled, i believe, with asbestos wet with sulphuric acid. we never saw the gardener light his pipe except with flint, steel, and tinder. the gun he used had a firelock, and when he had put first powder, then a wad, then shot, and lastly another wad into the barrel, he was obliged to shake some powder into the pan, which was lighted by the sparks from the flint striking the steel, if the rain did not make it too damp. for writing we used exclusively goose-quills, for though steel pens were invented soon after i was born, they were probably very imperfect; and, moreover, had to combat a violent prejudice, for at the first school we attended we were strictly forbidden to use them. so the penknife played an important part on every writing-desk, and it was impossible to imagine a good penman who did not possess skill in the art of shaping the quills. what has been accomplished between 1837 and the present date in the way of means of communication i need not recapitulate. i only know how long a time was required for a letter from my mother's brothers--one was a resident of java and the other lived as "opperhoofd" in japan--to reach berlin, and how often an opportunity was used, generally through the courtesy of the netherland embassy, for sending letters or little gifts to holland. a letter forwarded by express was the swiftest way of receiving or giving news; but there was the signal telegraph, whose arms we often saw moving up and down, but exclusively in the service of the government. when, a few years ago, my mother was ill in holland, a reply to a telegram marked "urgent" was received in leipsic in eighteen minutes. what would our grandparents have said to such a miracle? we were soon to learn by experience the number of days required to reach my mother's home from berlin, for there was then no railroad to holland. the remarkable changes wrought during my lifetime in the political affairs of germany i can merely indicate here. i was born in despotic prussia, which was united to austria and the german states and small countries by a loosely formed league. as guardians of this wretched unity the various courts sent diplomats to frankfort, who interrupted their careless mode of life only to sharpen distrust of other courts or suppress some democratic movement. the prussian nation first obtained in 1848 the liberties which had been secured at an earlier date by the other german states, and nothing gives me more cause for gratitude than the boon of being permitted to see the realization and fulfilment of the dream of so many former generations, and my dismembered native land united into one grand, beautiful whole. i deem it a great happiness to have been a contemporary of emperor william i, bismarck, and von moltke, witnessed their great deeds as a man of mature years, and shared the enthusiasm they evoked and which enabled these men to make our german fatherland the powerful, united empire it is to-day. the journey to holland closes the first part of my childhood. i look back upon it as a beautiful, unshadowed dream out of doors or in a pleasant house where everybody loved me. but i could not single out the years, months, or days of this retrospect. it is only a smooth stream which bears us easily along. there is no series of events, only disconnected images--a faithful dog, a picture on the wall, above all the love and caresses of the mother lavished specially on me as the youngest, and the most blissful of all sounds in the life of a german child, the ringing of the little bell announcing that the christmas tree is ready. only in after days, when the world of fairyland and legend is left behind, does the child have any idea of consecutive events and human destinies. the stories told by mother and grandmother about snow-white, the sleeping beauty, the giants and the dwarfs, cinderella, the stable at bethlehem where the christ-child lay in the manger beside the oxen and asses, the angels who appeared to the shepherds singing "glory to god in the highest," the three kings and the star which led them to the christchild, are firmly impressed on his memory. i don't know how young i was when i saw the first picture of the kings in their purple robes kneeling before the babe in its mother's lap, but its forms and hues were indelibly stamped upon my mental vision, and i never forgot its meaning. true, i had no special thoughts concerning it; nay, i scarcely wondered to see kings in the dust before a child, and now, when i hear the summons of the purest and noblest of beings, "suffer little children to come unto me," and understand the sacred simplicity of a child's heart, it no longer awakens surprise. chapter iv. the journey to holland to attend the golden wedding. the rattle of wheels and the blast of the postilion's horn closed the first period of my childhood. when i was four years old we went to my mother's home to attend my grandparents' golden wedding. if i wished to describe the journey in its regular order i should be forced to depend upon the statements of others. so little of all which grown people deem worth seeing and noting in belgium, holland, and on the rhine has remained in my memory, that i cannot help smiling when i hear people say that they intend to take children travelling for their amusement and instruction. in our case we were put in the carriage because my mother would not leave us behind, and wanted to give our grandparents pleasure by our presence. she was right, but in spite of my inborn love of travel the month we spent on the journey seemed a period of very uncomfortable restlessness. a child realizes only a single detail of beauty--a flower, a radiant star, a human face. any individual recollection of the journey to holland, aside from what has been told me, is getting into the travelling carriage, a little green leather bajazzo dressed in red and white given to me by a relative, and the box of candies bestowed to take on the trip by a friend of my mother. of our reception in the belgian capital at the house of adolphe jones, the husband of my aunt henriette, a sister of my mother, i retain many recollections. our pleasant host was a painter of animals, whom i afterward saw sharing his friend verboeckhoven's studio, and whose flocks of sheep were very highly praised. at that time his studio was in his own house, and it seems as if i could still hear the call in my aunt's shrill voice, repeated countless times a day, "adolphe!" and the answer, following promptly in the deepest bass tones, "henriette!" this singular freak, which greatly amused us, was due, as i learned afterward, to my aunt's jealousy, which almost bordered on insanity. in later years i learned to know him as a jovial artist, who in the days of his youth very possibly might have given the strait-laced lady cause for anxiety. even when his locks were white he was ready for any pleasure; but he devoted himself earnestly to art, and i am under obligation to him for being the means of my mother's possessing the friendship of the animal painter, verboeckhoven, and that greatest of more modern belgian artists, louis gallait and his family, in whose society and home i have passed many delightful hours. in recalling our arrival at the jones house i first see the merry, smiling face--somewhat faunlike in its expression--of my six-foot uncle, and the plump figure of his wonderfully good and when undisturbed by jealousy--no less cheery wife. there was something specially winning and lovable about her, and i have heard that this lady, my mother's oldest sister, possessed in her youth the same dazzling beauty. at the famous ball in brussels this so captivated the duke of wellington that he offered her his arm to escort her back to her seat. my mother also remembered the napoleonic days, and i thought she had been specially favoured in seeing this great man when he entered rotterdam, and also goethe. i remember my grandfather as a stately old gentleman. he, as well as the other members of the family, called me georg krullebol, which means curly-head, to distinguish me from a cousin called georg von gent. i also remember that when, on the morning of december 5th, st. nicholas day, we children took our shoes to put on, we found them, to our delight, stuffed with gifts; and lastly that on christmas eve the tree which had been prepared for us in a room on the ground floor attracted such a crowd of curious spectators in front of the jones house that we were obliged to close the shutters. of my grandparents' day of honor i remember nothing except a large room filled with people, and the minutes during which i repeated my little verse. i can still see myself in a short pink skirt, with a wreath of roses on my fair curls, wings on my shoulders, a quiver on my back, and a bow in my hand, standing before the mirror very much pleased with my appearance. our governess had composed little cupid's speech, my mother had drilled me thoroughly in it, so i do not remember a moment of anxiety and embarrassment, but merely that it afforded me the purest, deepest pleasure to be permitted to do something. i must have behaved with the utmost ease before the spectators, many of whom i knew, for i can still hear the loud applause which greeted me, and see myself passed from one to another till i fled from the kisses and pet names of grandparents, aunts, and cousins to my mother's lap. of the bride and groom of this golden wedding i remember only that my grandfather wore short trousers called 'escarpins' and stockings reaching to the knee. my grandmother, spite of her sixty-six years--she married before she was seventeen--was said to look remarkably pretty. later i often saw the heavy white silk dress strewn with tiny bouquets which she wore as a bride and again remodelled at her silver wedding; for after her death it was left to my mother. modern wedding gowns are not treasured so long. i have often wondered why i recollect my grandfather so distinctly and my grandmother so dimly. i have a clear idea of her personal appearance, but this i believe i owe much more to her portrait which hung in my mother's room beside her husband's, and is now one of my own most cherished possessions. bradley, one of the best english portrait painters, executed it, and all connoisseurs pronounce it a masterpiece. this festival lives in my memory like the fresh spring morning of a day whose noon is darkened by clouds, and which ends in a heavy thunderstorm. black clouds had gathered over the house adorned with garlands and flowers, echoing for days with the gay conversations, jests, and congratulations of the relatives united after long separation and the mirth of children and grandchildren. not a loud word was permitted to be uttered. we felt that something terrible was impending, and people called it grandfather's illness. never had i seen my mother's sunny face so anxious and sad. she rarely came to us, and when she did for a short time her thoughts were far away, for she was nursing her father. then the day which had been dreaded came. wherever we looked the women were weeping and the eyes of the men were reddened by tears. my mother, pale and sorrowful, told us that our dear grandfather was dead. children cannot understand the terrible solemnity of death. this is a gift bestowed by their guardian angels, that no gloomy shadows may darken the sunny brightness of their souls. i saw only that cheerful faces were changed to sad ones, that the figures about us moved silently in sable robes and scarcely noticed us. on the tables in the nursery, where our holiday garments were made, black clothes were being cut for us also, and i remember having my mourning dress fitted. i was pleased because it was a new one. i tried to manufacture a suit for my berlin jack-in-the-box from the scraps that fell from the dressmaker's table. nothing amuses a child so much as to imitate what older people are doing. we were forbidden to laugh, but after a few days our mother no longer checked our mirth. of our stay at scheveningen i recollect nothing except that the paths in the little garden of the house we occupied were strewn with shells. we dug a big hole in the sand on the downs, but i retained no remembrance of the sea and its majesty, and when i beheld it in later years it seemed as if i were greeting for the first time the eternal thalassa which was to become so dear and familiar to me. my grandmother, i learned, passed away scarcely a year after the death of her faithful companion, at the home of her son, a lawyer in the hague. two incidents of the journey back are vividly impressed on my mind. we went by steamer up the rhine, and stopped at ehrenbreitstein to visit old frau mendelssohn, our guardian's mother, at her estate of horchheim. the carriage had been sent for us, and on the drive the spirited horses ran away and would have dashed into the rhine had not my brother martin, at that time eleven years old, who was sitting on the box by the coachman, saved us. the other incident is of a less serious nature. i had seen many a salmon in the kitchen, and resolved to fish for one from the steamer; so i tied a bit of candy to a string and dropped it from the deck. the fish were so wanting in taste as to disdain the sweet bait, but my early awakened love of sport kept me patiently a long time in the same spot, which was undoubtedly more agreeable to my mother than the bait was to the salmon. as, protected by the guards, and probably watched by the governess and my brothers and sisters, i devoted myself to this amusement, my mother went down into the cabin to rest. suddenly there was a loud uproar on the ship. people shouted and screamed, everybody rushed on deck and looked into the river. whether i, too, heard the fall and saw the life-boat manned i don't remember; but i recollect all the more clearly my mother's rushing frantically from the cabin and clasping me tenderly to her heart as her rescued child. so the drama ended happily, but there had been a terrible scene. among the steamer's passengers was a crazy englishman who was being taken, under the charge of a keeper, to an insane asylum. while my mother was asleep the lunatic succeeded in eluding this man's vigilance and plunged into the river. of course, there was a tumult on board, and my mother heard cries of "fallen into the river!" "save!" "he'll drown!" maternal anxiety instantly applied them to the child-angler, and she darted up the cabin stairs. i need not describe the state of mind in which she reached the deck, and her emotion when she found her nestling in his place, still holding the line in his hand. as the luckless son of albion was rescued unharmed, we could look back upon the incident gaily, but neither of us forgot this anxiety--the first i was to cause my mother. i have forgotten everything else that happened on our way home; but when i think of this first journey, a long one for so young a child, and the many little trips--usually to dresden, where my grandmother ebers lived-which i was permitted to take, i wonder whether they inspired the love of travel which moved me so strongly later, or whether it was an inborn instinct. if a popular superstition is correct, i was predestined to journey. no less a personage than friedrich froebel, the founder of the kindergarten system, called my attention to it; for when i met him for the first time in the institute at keilhau, he seized my curly hair, bent my head back, gazed at me with his kind yet penetrating eyes, and said: "you will wander far through the world, my boy; your teeth are wide apart." chapter v. lennestrasse.--lenne.--early impressions. lennestrasse is the scene of the period of my life which began with my return from holland. if, coming from the brandenburg gate, you follow the thiergarten and pass the superb statue of goethe, you will reach a corner formed by two blocks of houses. the one on the left, opposite to the city wall, now called koniggratz, was then known as schulgartenstrasse. the other, on the right, whose windows overlooked the thiergarten, bore the name in my childhood of lennestrasse, which it owed to lenne, the park superintendent, a man of great talent, but who lives in my memory only as a particularly jovial old gentleman. he occupied no. 1, and was one of my mother's friends. next to prince packler, he may certainly be regarded as one of the most inventive and tasteful landscape gardeners of his time. he transformed the gardens of sans-souci and the pfaueninsel at potsdam, and laid out the magnificent park on babelsberg for emperor william i, when he was only "prince of prussia." the magnificent zoological garden in berlin is also his work; but he prided himself most on rendering the thiergarten a "lung" for the people, and, spite of many obstacles, materially enlarging it. every moment of the tireless man's time was claimed, and besides king frederick william iv, who himself uttered many a tolerably good joke, found much pleasure in the society of the gay, clever rhinelander, whom he often summoned to dine with him at potsdam. lenne undoubtedly appreciated this honour, yet i remember the doleful tone in which he sometimes greeted my mother with, "called to court again!" like every one who loves nature and flowers, he was fond of children. we called him "uncle lenne," and often walked down our street hand in hand with him. it is well known that the part of the city on the other side of the potsdam gate was called the "geheimerath-quarter." our street, it is true, lay nearer to the brandenburg gate, yet it really belonged to that section; for there was not a single house without at least one geheimerath (privy councillor). yet this superabundance of men in "secret" positions lent no touch of mystery to our cheerful street, shaded by the green of the forest. franker, gayer, sometimes noisier children than its residents could not be found in berlin. i was only a little fellow when we lived there, and merely tolerated in the "big boys'" sports, but it was a festival when, with ludo, i could carry their provisions for them or even help them make fireworks. the old rechnungsrath, who lived in the house owned by geheimerath crede, the father of my leipsic colleague, was their instructor in this art, which was to prove disastrous to my oldest brother and bright paul seiffart; for--may they pardon me the treachery-they took one of the fireworks to school, where--i hope accidentally--it went off. at first this caused much amusement, but strict judgment followed, and led to my mother's resolution to send her oldest son away from home to some educational institution. the well-known teacher, adolph diesterweg, whose acquaintance she had made at the house of a friend, recommended keilhau, and so our little band was deprived of the leader to whom ludo and i had looked up with a certain degree of reverence on account of his superior strength, his bold spirit of enterprise, and his kindly condescension to us younger ones. after his departure the house was much quieter, but we did not forget him; his letters from keilhau were read aloud to us, and his descriptions of the merry school days, the pedestrian tours, and sleigh-rides awakened an ardent longing in ludo and myself to follow him. yet it was so delightful with my mother, the sun around which our little lives revolved! i had no thought, performed no act, without wondering what would be her opinion of it; and this intimate relation, though in an altered form, continued until her death. in looking backward i may regard it as a law of my whole development that my conduct was regulated according to the more or less close mental and outward connection in which i stood with her. the storm and stress period, during which my effervescent youthful spirits led me into all sorts of follies, was the only time in my life in which this close connection threatened to be loosened. yet fate provided that it should soon be welded more firmly than ever. when she died, a beloved wife stood by my side, but she was part of myself; and in my mother fate seemed to have robbed me of the supreme arbitrator, the high court of justice, which alone could judge my acts. in lennestrasse it was still she who waked me, prepared us to go to school, took us to walk, and--how could i ever forget it?--gathered us around her "when the lamps were lighted," to read aloud or tell us some story. but nobody was allowed to be perfectly idle. while my sisters sewed, i sketched; and, as ludo found no pleasure in that, she sometimes had him cut figures out; sometimes--an odd fancy--execute a masterpiece of crocheting, which usually shared the fate of penelope's web. we listened with glowing cheeks to robinson crusoe and the arabian nights, gulliver's travels and don quixote, both arranged for children, the pretty, stories of nieritz and others, descriptions of nature and travel, and grimm's fairy tales. on other winter evenings my mother--this will surprise many in the case of so sensible a woman--took us to the theatre. two of our relatives, frau amalie beer and our beloved moritz von oppenfeld, subscribed for boxes in the opera-house, and when they did not use them, which often happened, sent us the key. so as a boy i heard most of the operas produced at that time, and i saw the ballets, of which frederick william iv was especially fond, and which taglioni understood how to arrange so admirably. of course, to us children the comic "robert and bertram," by ludwig schneider, and similar plays, were far more delightful than the grand operas; yet even now i wonder that don giovanni's scene with the statue and the conspiracy in the huguenots stirred me, when a boy of nine or ten, so deeply, and that, though possessing barely the average amount of musical talent, orpheus's yearning cry, "eurydice!" rang in my ears so long. that these frequently repeated pleasures were harmful to us children i willingly admit. and yet--when in after years i was told that i succeeded admirably in describing large bodies of men seized by some strong excitement, and that my novels did not lack dramatic movement or their scenes vividness, and, where it was requisite, splendour--i perhaps owe this to the superb pictures, interwoven with thrilling bursts of melody, which impressed themselves upon my soul when a child. fortunately, the outdoor life at keilhau counteracted the perils which might have arisen from attending theatrical performances too young. what i beheld there, in field and forest, enabled me in after life, when i desired a background for my stories, not to paint stage scenes, but take nature herself for a model. i must also record another influence which had its share in my creative toil--my early intercourse with artists and the opportunity of seeing their work. the statement has been made often enough, but i should like to repeat it here from my own experience, that the most numerous and best impulses which urge the author to artistic development come from his childhood. this law, which results from observing the life and works of the greatest writers, has shown itself very distinctly in a minor one like myself. there was certainly no lack of varied stimulus during this early period of my existence; but when i look back upon it, i become vividly aware of the serious perils which threaten not only the external but the internal development of the children who grow up in large cities. careful watching can guard them from the transgressions to which there are many temptations, but not from the strong and varying impressions which life is constantly forcing upon them. they are thrust too early from the paradise of childhood into the arena of life. there are many things to be seen which enrich the imagination, but where could the young heart find the calmness it needs? the sighing of the wind sweeping over the cornfields and stirring the tree-tops in the forest, the singing of the birds in the boughs, the chirping of the cricket, the vesper-bells summoning the world to rest, all the voices which, in the country, invite to meditation and finally to the formation of a world of one's own, are silenced by the noise of the capital. so it happens that the latter produces active, practical men, and, under favorable circumstances, great scholars, but few artists and poets. if, nevertheless, the capitals are the centers where the poets, artists, sculptors, and architects of the country gather, there is a good reason for it. but i can make no further digression. the sapling requires different soil and care from the tree. i am grateful to my mother for removing us in time from the unrest of berlin life. first studies.--my sisters and their friends. my mother told me i was never really taught to read. ludo, who was a year and a half older, was instructed in the art. i sat by playing, and one day took up speckter's fables and read a few words. trial was then made of my capability, and, finding that i only needed practice to be able to read things i did not know already by heart, my brother and i were thenceforth taught together. at first the governess had charge of us, afterward we were sent to a little school kept by herr liebe in the neighbouring schulgarten (now koniggratz) strasse. it was attended almost entirely by children belonging to the circle of our acquaintances, and the master was a pleasant little man of middle age, who let us do more digging in his garden and playing or singing than actual study. his only child, a pretty little girl named clara, was taught with us, and i believe i have herr liebe to thank for learning to write. in summer he took us on long walks, frequently to the country seat of herr korte, who stood high in the estimation of farmers. from such excursions, which were followed by others made with the son and tutor of a family among our circle of friends, we always brought our mother great bunches of flowers, and often beautiful stories, too; for the tutor, candidate woltmann, was an excellent story-teller, and i early felt a desire to share with those whom i loved whatever charmed me. it was from this man, who was as fond of the beautiful as he was of children, that i first heard the names of the greek heroes; and i remember that, after returning from one of these walks, i begged my mother to give us schwab's tales of classic antiquity, which was owned by one of our companions. we received it on ludo's birthday, in september, and how we listened when it was read to us--how often we ourselves devoured its delightful contents! i think the story of the trojan war made a deeper impression upon me than even the arabian nights. homer's heroes seemed like giant oaks, which far overtopped the little trees of the human wood. they towered like glorious snow mountains above the little hills with which my childish imagination was already filled; and how often we played the trojan war, and aspired to the honor of acting hector, achilles, or ajax! of herr liebe, our teacher, i remember only three things. on his daughter's birthday he treated us to cake and wine, and we had to sing a festal song composed by himself, the refrain of which changed every year: "clara, with her fair hair thick, clara, with her eyes like heaven, can no more be called a chick, for to-day she's really seven." i remember, too, how when she was eight years old we had to transpose the words a little to make the measure right. karl von holtei had a more difficult task when, after the death of the emperor francis (kaiser franz), he had to fit the name of his successor, ferdinand, into the beautiful "gotterhalte franz den kaiser," but he got cleverly out of the affair by making it "gott erhalte ferdinandum."--[god save the emperor francis.] my second recollection is, that we assisted herr liebe, who was a churchwarden and had the honour of taking up the collection, to sort the money, and how it delighted us to hear him scold--with good reason, too-when we found among the silver and copper pieces--as, alas! we almost always did--counters and buttons from various articles of clothing. in the third place, i must accuse herr liebe of having paid very little attention to our behaviour out of school. had he kept his eyes open, we might have been spared many a bruise and our garments many a rent; for, as often as we could manage it, instead of going directly home from the schulgartenstrasse, we passed through the potsdam gate to the square beyond. there lurked the enemy, and we sought them out. the enemy were the pupils of a humbler grade of school who called us privy councillor's youngsters, which most of us were; and we called them, in return, 'knoten,' which in its original meaning was anything but an insult, coming as it does by a natural philological process from "genote," the older form of "genosse" or comrade. but to accuse us of arrogance on this account would be doing us wrong. children don't fight regularly with those whom they despise. our "knoten" was only a smart answer to their "geheimrathsjoren." if they had called us boobies we should probably have called them blockheads, or something of that sort. this troop, which was not over-well-dressed even before the beginning of the conflict, was led by some boys whose father kept a so-called flower cellar--that is, a basement shop for plants, wreaths, etc.--at the head of leipzigerstrasse. they often sought us out, but when they did not we enticed them from their cellar by a particular sort of call, and as soon as they appeared we all slipped into some courtyard, where a battle speedily raged, in which our school knapsacks served as weapons of offence and defence. when i got into a passion i was as wild as a fighting cock, and even quiet ludo could deal hard blows; and i can say the same of most of the "geheimrathsjoren" and "knoten." it was not often that any decided success attended the fight, for the janitor or some inhabitant of the house usually interfered and brought it all to an untimely end. i remember still how a fat woman, probably a cook, seized me by the collar and pushed me out into the street, crying: "fie! fie! such young gentlemen ought to be ashamed of themselves." hegel, however, whose influence at that time was still great in the learned circles of berlin, had called shame "anger against what is natural," and we liked what was natural. so the battles with the "knoten" were continued until the berlin revolution called forth more serious struggles, and our mother sent us away to keilhau. our sisters went to school also, a school kept by fraulein sollmann in the dorotheenstrasse. and yet we had a tutor, i do not really know why. whether our mother had heard of the fights, and recognized the impossibility of following us about everywhere, or whether the candidate was to teach us the rudiments of latin after we went to the schmidt school in the leipziger platz, at the beginning of my tenth year, i neglected to inquire. the easter holidays always brought brother martin home. then he told us about keilhau, and we longed to accompany him there; and yet we had so many good schoolmates and friends at home, such spacious playgrounds and beautiful toys! i recall with especial pleasure the army of tin soldiers with which we fought battles, and the brass cannon that mowed down their ranks. we could build castles and cathedrals with our blocks, and cooking was a pleasure, too, when our sisters allowed us to act as scullions and waiters in white aprons and caps. martha, the eldest, was already a grown young lady, but so sweet and kind that we never feared a rebuff from her; and her friends, too, liked us little ones. martha's contemporaries formed a peculiarly charming circle. there was the beautiful emma baeyer, the daughter of general baeyer, who afterward conducted the measuring of the meridian for central europe; pretty, lively anna bisting; and gretchen bugler, a handsome, merry girl, who afterward married paul heyse and died young; clara and agnes mitscherlich, the daughters of the celebrated chemist, the younger of whom was especially dear to my childish heart. gustel grimm, too, the daughter of wilhelm grimm, was often at our house. the queen of my heart, however, was the sister of our playmate, max geppert, and at this time the most intimate friend of my sister paula. the two took dancing lessons together, and there was no greater joy than when the lesson was at our house, for then the young ladies occasionally did us the favour of dancing with us, to herr guichard's tiny violin. warm as was my love for the beautiful annchen, my adored one came near getting a cold from it, for, rogue that i was, i hid her overshoes during the lesson on one rainy saturday evening, that i might have the pleasure of taking them to her the next morning. she looked at that time like the woman with whom i celebrated my silver wedding two years ago, and certainly belonged to the same feminine genre, which i value and place as high above all others as simonides von amorgos preferred the beelike woman to every other of her sex: i mean the kind whose womanliness and gentle charm touch the heart before one ever thinks of intellect or beauty. our mother smiled at these affairs, and her daughters, as girls, gave her no great trouble in guarding their not too impressionable hearts. there was only one boy for whom paula showed a preference, and that was pretty blond paul, our martin's friend, comrade, and contemporary, the son of our neighbour, the privy-councillor seiffart; and we lived a good deal together, for his mother and ours were bosom friends, and our house was as open to him as his to us. paul was born on the same november day as my sister, though several years earlier, and their common birthday was celebrated, while we were little, by a puppet-show at the neighbour's, conducted by some master in the business, on a pretty little stage in the great hall at the seiffarts' residence. i have never forgotten those performances, and laugh now when i think of the knight who shouted to his servant kasperle, "fear my thread!" (zwirn), when what he intended to say was, "fear my anger!" (zorn). or of that same kasperle, when he gave his wife a tremendous drubbing with a stake, and then inquired, "want another ounce of unburned woodashes, my darling?" paula was very fond of these farces. she was, however, from a child rather a singular young creature, who did not by any means enjoy all the amusements of her age. when grown, it was often with difficulty that our mother persuaded her to attend a ball, while martha's eyes sparkled joyously when there was a dance in prospect; and yet the tall and slender paula looked extremely pretty in a ball dress. gay and active, indeed bold as a boy sometimes, so that she would lead in taking the rather dangerous leap from a balcony of our high ground floor into the garden, clever, and full of droll fancies, she dwelt much in her own thoughts. several volumes of her journal came to me after our mother's death, and it is odd enough to find the thirteen-year-old girl confessing that she likes no worldly pleasures, and yet, being a very truthful child, she was only expressing a perfectly sincere feeling. it was touching to read in the same confessions: "i was in a dreamy mood, and they said i must be longing for something--paul, no doubt. i did not dispute it, for i really was longing for some one, though it was not a boy, but our dead father." and paula was only three years old when he left us! no one would have thought, who saw her delight when there were fireworks in the seiffarts' garden, or when in our own, with her curls and her gown flying, her cheeks glowing, and her eyes flashing, she played with all her heart at "catch" or "robber and princess," or, all animation and interest, conducted a performance of our puppet-show, that she would sometimes shun all noisy pleasure, that she longed with enthusiastic piety for the sunday churchgoing, and could plunge into meditation on subjects that usually lie far from childish thoughts and feelings. yet who would fancy her thoughtless when she wrote in her journal: "fie, paula! you have taken no trouble. mother had a right to expect a better report. however, to be happy, one must forget what cannot be altered." in reality, she was not in the least "featherheaded." her life proved that, and it is apparent, too, in the words i found on another page of her journal, at thirteen: "mother and martha are at the drakes; i will learn my hymn, and then read in the bible about the sufferings of jesus. oh, what anguish that must have been! and i? what do i do that is good, in making others happy or consoling their trouble? this must be different, paula! i will begin a new life. mother always says we are happy when we deny self in order to do good. ah, if we always could! but i will try; for he did, though he might have escaped, for our sins and to make us happy." etext editor's bookmarks: full as an egg i plead with voice and pen in behalf of fairy tales nobody was allowed to be perfectly idle the carp served on christmas eve in every berlin family to be happy, one must forget what cannot be altered unjust to injure and rob the child for the benefit of the man this ebook was produced by david widger <widger@cecomet.net> [note: there is a short list of bookmarks, or pointers, at the end of the file for those who may wish to sample the author's ideas before making an entire meal of them. d.w.] the emperor, part 1. by georg ebers volume 4. chapter xv. after the emperor's body-slave had started up to go to the aid of selene, who was attacked by his sovereign's dog, something had happened to him which he could not forget; he had received an impression which he could not wipe out, and words and tones had stirred his mind and soul which incessantly echoed in them, so that it was in a preoccupied and halfdreamy way that he had done his master those little services which he was accustomed to perform every morning, briskly and with complete attention. summer and winter mastor was accustomed to leave his master's bedroom before sunrise to prepare everything that hadrian could need when he rose from his slumbers. there was the gold plating to clean on the narrow greaves and the leather straps which belonged to his master's military boots, his clothes to air and to perfume with the slight, hardly perceptible scent that he liked, but the preparations for hadrian's bath were what took up most of his time. at lochias there were not as yet-as there were in the imperial palace at rome--properly-filled baths; still his servant knew that here, as there, his master would use a due abundance of water. he had been told that if he required anything for his master he was to apply to pontius. him he found, without seeking him, outside the room meant for hadrian's sitting-room, to which, while the emperor still slept, he was endeavoring, with the help of his assistants, to give a comfortable and pleasing aspect. the architect referred the slave to the workmen who were busy laying the pavement in the forecourt of the palace; these men would carry in for him as much water as ever he could need. the body-servant's position relieved him of such humble duties, still, when on the chase, when travelling, or as need arose, he was accustomed to perform them unasked, and very willingly. the sun had not yet risen when he went out into the court, a number of slaves were lying on their mats asleep, others had camped round a fire and were waiting for their early broth, which was being stirred with wooden sticks by an old man and a boy. mastor would not disturb either group; he went up to a party of workmen, who seemed to be talking together, and yet remained attentive to the speech of an old man who was evidently telling them a story. the poor fellow's heart was heavy and his mind was little bent on tales and amusements. all life was embittered. the services required of him usually seemed to him of paramount importance, beyond everything else; but to-day it was different. he had an obscure feeling as though fate herself had released him from all his duties, as if misfortune had cut the bonds which bound him to his service to the emperor, and had made him an isolated and lonely being. it even came into his head whether he should not take in his hand all the gold pieces given him sometimes by hadrian, or which the wealthy folks who wished to be the foremost of those introduced into the emperor's presence, after waiting in the antechamber, had flung to him or slipped into his hand--make his escape and carouse away all that he possessed in the taverns of the great city, in wine and the gay company of women. it was all the same to him what might happen to him. if he were caught he would probably be flogged to death; but he had had kicks and blows in plenty before he had got into the emperor's service, nay; when he was brought to rome he had once even been hunted with dogs. if he lost his life, after all what would it matter? he would have done with it then, once for all, and the future offered him no prospect but perpetual fatigue in the service of a restless master, anxiety and contempt. he was a thoroughly good-hearted being who could not bear to hurt any one, and who found it equally hard to disturb a fellow-man in his pleasures or amusement. he felt particularly disinclined to do so just now, for a wounded soul is keenly alive to the moods and feelings of others; so, as he approached the group of workmen, from among whom he proposed to choose his water-carrier, he determined that he would not interrupt the story-teller, on whose lips the gaze of his audience was riveted with interest. the glare of the blaze under the soup-kettle fell full on the speaker's face. he was an old laborer, but his long hair proclaimed him a freeman. his abundant white beard induced mastor to suppose that he must be a jew or a phoenician, but there was nothing remarkable in the old man, who was dressed in a poor and scanty tunic, excepting his peculiarly brilliant eyes, which were immovably fixed on the heavens, and the oblique position in which he held his head, supporting it on the left side with his raised hands. "and now," said the speaker, dropping his arms, "let us go back to our labors, my brethren. 'in the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread,' it is written. it is often hard to us old men to heave stones and bend our stiff backs for so long together, but we are nearer than you younger ones to the happy future. life is not easy to all of us, but it is we who labor and are heavy laden--we above all others--that the lord has bidden to be his guests, and not last among us the slaves." "come unto me all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and i will refresh you," interrupted one of the younger men repeating the words of christ. "yea, thus saith the saviour," said the old man approvingly, "and he surely then was thinking of us. i said just now our load is not light, but how much heavier was the burden he took upon him of his own free will to release us from woe. every one must work, nay even caesar himself, but he who could dwell in the glory of his father let himself be mocked and scorned and spit in the face, let the crown of thorns be pressed on his suffering head, bore his heavy cross, sinking under its weight, and endured a death of torment, and all for our sakes, without a murmur. but he suffered not in vain, for god accepted the sacrifice of his son, and did his will and said, 'all that believe on him should not perish, but have everlasting life.' and though a new and weary day is now beginning, and though it should be followed by a thousand wearier still, though death is the end of life--still we believe in our redeemer, we have god's word bidding us out of sorrows and sufferings into his heaven, promising us for a brief time of misery in this world, endless ages of joy.--now go to work. our sturdy friend krates will work for you dear knakias until your finger is healed. when the bread is distributed remember, each of you, the children of our poor deceased brother philammon. you, poor gibbus, will find your labors bitter to-day. this man's master, my dear brethren, sold both his daughters yesterday to a dealer from smyrna; but if you never see them again in egypt, or in any other country, my friend, you will meet them in the home of your heavenly father--of that you may rest assured. our life on earth is but a pilgrimage, and heaven is the goal, and the guide who teaches us never to miss the way, is our saviour. weariness and toil, sorrow and suffering are easy to bear, to him who knows that when the solemn hour is near, the king of kings shall throw open his dwelling-place, and invite him to enter as a favored guest to inhabit there, where all we have loved have found joy and rest." "come unto me all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and i will refresh you," said a man's loud voice again from the circle that sat round the old man. the old man stood up, signed to a boy who distributed the bread in equal shares to the workmen, and took up a jar with handles, out of which he filled a large wooden cup with wine. not a word of this discourse had escaped mastor, and the often repeated verse, "come unto me all ye that labor," dwelt in his mind like the invitation of a hospitable friend bidding him to happy days of freedom and enjoyment. a distant gleam shone through the weight of his troubles, seeming to promise the dawn of a new day, and he reverently went up to the old man, in the first place to ask him if he was the overseer of the workmen who stood round him. "i am," replied the old man, and as soon as he learnt what mastor required as a commission from the controlling architect, he pointed out some young slaves who quickly brought the water that he needed. pontius met the emperor's servant and his water-carriers and remarked, loudly enough for mastor to understand him, to pollux who was with him: "the architect's servant is getting christians to wait upon his master to-day. they are regular and sober workmen who do their duty silently and well." while mastor was giving his master towels, and helping to dry and dress him, he was far less attentive than usual, for he could not get the words he had heard from the overseer's lips out of his mind. he had not understood them all, but he had fully comprehended that there was a kind and loving god who had suffered in his own person the utmost torments, who was especially gracious to the poor, the miserable, and the bondsman, and who promised to refresh them and comfort them, and to re-unite them to those who had once been dear to them. "come unto me," sounded again and again in his ears, and struck so warmly to his heart that he could not help thinking first of his mother, who, so many a time, when he was a child, had called to him only to clasp him in her arms as he ran towards her, and to press him to her heart. just so had he often called his poor little dead son, and the feeling that there could be any one who might still call to him--the forsaken lonely man--with loving words to release him from his griefs, to reunite him to his mother, his father, and all the dear ones left behind in his lost and distant home, took half the bitterness from his pain. he was accustomed to listen to all that was said in the emperor's presence, and year by year he had learnt to understand more of what he heard. he had often heard the christians discussed, and usually as deluded but dangerous fools. many of his fellow-slaves, too, he had heard called christian idiots, but still not unfrequently very reasonable men, and sometimes even hadrian himself, had taken the part of the christians. this was the first time that mastor had heard from their own lips what they believed and hoped, and now, while fulfilling his duties he could hardly bear the delay before he could once more seek out the old pavement-worker, to enquire of him, and to have the hopes confirmed which his words had aroused in his soul. no sooner had hadrian and antinous gone into the living-room than mastor had hastened off across the court to find the christians. there he tried to open a conversation with the overseer concerning his faith, but the old man answered that there was a season for everything; just now he could not interrupt the work, but that he might come again after sundown, and that he then would tell him of him who had promised to refresh the sorrow-laden. mastor thought no more of making his escape. when he appeared again in his master's presence there was such a sunny light in his blue eyes that hadrian left the angry words he had prepared for him unspoken, and cried to antinous, laughing and pointing to the slave: "i really believe the rascal has consoled himself already, and found a new mate. let us, too, follow the precept of horace, so far as we may, and enjoy the present day. the poet may let the future go as it will, but i cannot, for, unfortunately, i am the emperor." "and rome may thank the gods that you are," replied antinous. "what happy phrases the boy hits upon sometimes," said hadrian with a laugh, and he stroked the lad's brown curls. "now till noon i must work with phlegon and titianus, whom i am expecting, and then perhaps we may find something to laugh at. ask the tall sculptor there behind the screens, at what hour balbilla is to sit to him for her bust. we must also inspect the architect's work, and that of the alexandrian artists by daylight; that, their zeal has well deserved." hadrian retired to the room where his private secretary had ready for him the despatches and papers for rome and the provinces, which the emperor was required to read and to sign. antinous remained alone in the sitting-room, and for an hour he continued to gaze at the ships which came to anchor in the harbor, or sailed out of the roads, and amused himself with watching the swift boats which swarmed round the larger vessels, like wasps round ripe fruit. he listened to the songs of the sailors, and the music of the flute-players, to the measured beat of the oars, which came up from the triremes in the private harbor of the emperor as they went out to sea. even the pure blue of the sky and the warmth of the delicious morning were a pleasure to him, and he asked himself whether the smell of tar, which pervaded the seaport, were agreeable or not. presently as the sun mounted in the sky, its bright sphere dazzled him; he left the window with a yawn, stretched himself on a couch, and stared absently up at the ceiling of the room without thinking of the subject which the faded picture on it was intended to represent. idleness had long since grown to be the occupation of his life; but accustomed to it as he was, he was sometimes conscious of its dark attendant shadow ennui--as of a disagreeable and intrusive interruption to the enjoyment of life. generally in such lonely hours of idle reverie his thoughts reverted to his belongings in bithynia, of whom he never dared to speak before the emperor, or perhaps of the hunting excursions he had made with hadrian, of the slaughtered game, of the fish he--an experienced angler--had caught, or such like. what the future might bring him troubled him not, for to the love of creativeness, to ambition --to all, in short, that bore any resemblance to a passionate excitement his soul had, so far, remained a stranger. the admiration which was universally excited by his beauty gave him no pleasure, and many a time he felt as though it was not worth while to stir a limb or draw a breath. almost everything he saw was indifferent to him excepting a kind word from the lips of the emperor, whom he regarded as great above all other men, whom he feared as destiny incarnate, and to whom he felt himself bound as intimately as the flower to the tree, the blossom that must die when the stem is broken, on which it flaunts as an ornament and a grace. but, to-day, as he flung himself on the divan his visions took a new direction. he could not help thinking of the pale girl whom he had saved from the jaws of the blood-hound--of the white cold hand which for an instant had clung to his neck--of the cold words with which she had afterwards repelled him. antinous began to long violently to see selene. that same antinous, to whom in all the cities he had visited with the emperor, and in rome particularly, the noble fair ones had sent branches of flowers and tender letters, and who nevertheless, since the day when he left his home, had never felt for any woman or girl half so tender a sentiment, as for the hunter the emperor had given him, or for the big dog. this girl stood before his memory like breathing marble. perchance the man might be doomed to death who should rest on her cold breast, but such a death must be full of ecstasy, and it seemed to him that it would be far more blissful to die with the blood frozen in his veins, than of the too rapid throbbing of his heart. "selene," he murmured, now and again, with soft hesitation; a strange unrest foreign to his calm nature seemed to propagate itself through all his limbs, and he who commonly would be stretched on a couch for hours without stirring, lost in dreams, now sprang up and paced the room, sighing deeply, and with long strides. it was a passionate longing for selene that drove him up and down, and his wish to see her again crystallized into resolve, and prompted him to contrive the ways and means of meeting her once more before the emperor's return. simply to invade her father's lodging without farther ceremony, seemed to him out of the question, and yet he was certain of finding her there, since her injured foot would of course keep her at home. should he once more go to the steward with a request for bread and salt? but he dared not ask anything of keraunus in hadrian's name after the scene which had so recently taken place. should he go there to carry her a new pitcher in the place of the broken one? but that would only freshly enrage the arrogant official. should he--should he--should he not? but no, it was quite impossible-still, that no doubt--that was the right idea. in his medicine-chest there were a few extracts which had been given to him by the emperor; he would offer her one of these to dilute with water and apply to her bruised foot. and this act of sympathy could not displease even his master, who liked to prove his healing art on the sick or suffering. he at once called mastor, and desired him to take charge of the hound which had followed his steps as he paced the room, then he went into his sleeping-room, took out a phial of a most costly essence, which hadrian had given him on his last birthday, and which had formerly belonged to trajan's wife, kotina, and then proceeded to the steward's rooms. on the steps where he had found selene, he found the black slave with some children. the old man had sat down them and got no farther for fear of the roman's dog. antinous went up to him and begged him to guide him to his master's quarters, and the negro immediately showed him the way, opened the door of the antechamber, and pointing to the living-room said: "there--but keraunus is absent." without troubling himself any further about antinous the slave went back to the children, but the bithyman stood irresolute, with his flask in his hand, for besides selene's voice he heard that of another girl and the deeper tones of a man. he was still hesitating when arsinoe's loud exclamation of "who's there?" obliged him to advance. in the sitting-room selene was standing dressed in a long light-colored robe with a veil over her head, as if prepared to go out, but arsinoe was perched on the edge of a table, in such a way as that the tips of her toes only touched the ground, and on the table lay a quantity of oldfashioned things. before her stood a phoenician, of middle age, holding in his hand a finely-carved cup; apparently he was in treaty for it with the young girl. keraunus had been again to-day to a dealer in curiosities, but he had not found him at home, so he had left word at his shop that hiram might call upon him in his rooms at lochias, where he could show him several valuable rarities. the phoenician had arrived before the return of the steward himself, who had been detained at a meeting of the town council, and arsinoe was displaying her father's treasures, whose beauties she was extolling with much eloquence. hiram unfortunately offered a no higher price than gabinius, whom the steward had sent off so indignantly the previous evening. selene had been convinced from the first of the bootlessness of the attempt, and was now anxious to bring the transaction to a speedy conclusion, as the hour was approaching when she and arsinoe had to go to the papyrus factory. to her sister's refusal to accompany her, and to the old slave-woman's entreaty that she would rest her foot, at any rate for to-day, she had responded only with a resolute, "i am going." the appearance of the youth on the scene occasioned the girls some embarrassment. selene recognized him at once, arsinoe thought him handsome but awkward, while the curiosity-dealer gazed at him in perfect admiration, and was the first to offer him a greeting. antinous returned it, bowed to the sisters, and then said turning to selene: "we heard that your head was cut, and your foot hurt, and as we were guilty of your mishap, we venture to offer you this phial which contains a good remedy for such injuries." "thank you," replied the girl. "but i feel already so well that i shall try to go out." "that you certainly ought not to do," said antinous, beseechingly. "i must," replied selene, gravely. "then, at any rate, take the phial to use for a lotion when you return. ten drops in such a cup as that, full of water." "i can try it when i come in." "do so, and you will see how healing it is. you are not vexed with us any longer?" "no." "i am glad of that!" cried the boy, fixing his large dreamy eyes on selene with silent passion. this gaze displeased her, and she said more coldly than before to the bithyman. "to whom shall i give the phial when i have used the stuff in it?" "keep it, pray keep it," begged antinous. "it is pretty, and will be twice as precious in my eyes when it belongs to you." "it is pretty-but i do not wish for presents." "then destroy it when you have done with it. you have not forgiven us our dog's bad behavior, and we are sincerely sorry that our dog--" "i am not vexed with you. arsinoe pour the medicine into a saucer." the steward's younger daughter immediately obeyed, and noticing as she did so, how pretty the phial was, sparkling with various colors, she said frankly enough: "if my sister will not have it, give it to me. how can you make such a pother about nothing, selene?" "take it," said antinous, looking anxiously at the ground, for it had now just occurred to him how highly the emperor had valued this little bottle, and that he might possibly ask him some time what had become of it. selene shrugged her shoulders, and drawing her veil round her head, she exclaimed, with a glance of annoyance at her sister: "it is high time!" "i am not going to-day," replied arsinoe, defiantly, "and it is folly for you to walk a quarter of a mile with your swollen foot." "it would be wiser to take some care of it," observed the dealer, politely, and antinous anxiously added: "if you increase your own suffering you will add to our self-reproach." "i must go," selene repeated resolutely," and you with me, sister." it was not out of mere wilfulness that she spoke, it was bitter necessity, that forced her to utter the words. to-day, at any rate, she must not miss going to the papyrus factory, for the week's wages for her work and arsinoe's were to be paid. besides, the next day, and for four days after, the workshops and counting-house would be closed, for the emperor had announced to the wealthy proprietor his intention of visiting them, and in his honor various dilapidations in the old rooms were to be repaired, and various decorations added to the bare-looking building. hence, to remain away from the works to-day meant, not merely the loss of a week's pay, but the sacrifice of twelve days, since it had been announced to the work-people, that as a token of rejoicing, and in honor of the imperial visit, full pay would be given for the unemployed days; and selene needed money to maintain the family, and must therefore persist in her intention. when she saw that arsinoe showed no sign of accompanying her, she once more asked with stern determination: "are you coming?--yes, or no." "no," cried arsinoe, defiantly, and sitting farther on the table. "then i am to go alone?" "you are to stay here." selene went close up to her sister and looked at her enquiringly and reproachfully; but arsinoe adhered to her refusal. she pouted like a sulky child, and slapping the hand on which she was leaning three times on the table, she repeated, "no--no--no." selene called to the old slave-woman, and desired her to remain in the sitting-room till her father should return, greeted the dealer politely, and antinous with a careless nod, and then left the room. the lad had followed her, and they both met the children. selene pulled their dresses straight, and strictly enjoined them not to go near the corridor on account of the strange dog. antinous stroked the blind boy's pretty curly head, and then, as selene was about to descend the stairs, he asked her: "may i help you?" "yes," said the girl, for at the very first step an acute pain in the ancle checked her, and she put out her arm to the young man that he might support her elbow on his hand. but her answer would assuredly have been "no," if she had had the smallest feeling of liking for the emperor's favorite; but she bore the image of another in her heart, and did not even perceive that antinous was beautiful. the bithynian's heart, on the other hand, had never beaten so violently as during the brief moments when he was permitted to hold selene's arm. he felt intoxicated, while he was alive to the fact that during the descent of the few steps she was suffering great pain. "stay at home, and spare yourself!" he begged her once more in a trembling voice. "you worry me!" she said, in a tone of vexation. "i must go, and it is not far." "may i accompany you?" she laughed aloud and answered somewhat scornfully: "certainly not. only conduct me through the corridor that the dog may not attack me again, then go where you will--but not with me." he obeyed when at the end of the passage where it opened into a large hall, he bid her farewell, and she thanked him with a few friendly words. there were two ways out from her father's rooms into the road, one led through the rotunda where the ptolemaic queens were placed, and across several terraces up and down steps through the forecourt; the other, on a level all the way, through the rooms and halls of the palace. she was forced to choose the latter, for it would have been impossible for her with her aching foot to clamber up a number of steps without help and down them again, but she came to this conclusion much against her will, for she knew what numbers of men were engaged in the works of restoration; and to get through them safely it struck her that she might ask her old playfellow to escort her through the crowd of workmen and rough slaves as far as his parent's gatehouse. but she did not easily decide on this course, for, since the afternoon when pollux had shown her mother's bust to arsinoe before showing it to her, she had felt a grudge towards the sculptor, who so lately before had touched and opened her weary and loveless soul; and this sore feeling had not diminished, but had rather increased with time. at every hour of the day, and whatever she was occupied in, she could not help repeating to herself, that she had every reason to be vexed with him. she had stood to him a second time as a model for his work, had spoken to him many times, and when last they parted had promised to allow him this very evening to study once more the folds of her mantle. with what pleasure she had looked forward to each meeting with pollux, how truly lovable she had thought him on every fresh occasion; how frankly he too, expressed his pleasure as often as they met! they had talked of all sorts of things, even of love, and how eager he had been when he told her that the only thing she needed to make her happy was a good husband who would succor and comfort her as she deserved, and as he spoke he had looked at his own strong hands while she had turned red, and had thought to herself that if he liked it she would willingly make the experiment of enjoying life heartily by his side. it seemed to her as though they belonged to each other, as if she had been born for him alone, and he for her. why then yesterday had he shown arsinoe her mother's bust before her? well, now she would ask him plainly whether he had placed it on the rotunda for her or for her sister, and let him see she was not pleased. she must tell him, too, that she could not stand as his model that evening; if only on account of her foot that would be impossible. with increasing pain and effort she crossed the threshold of the hall of the muses, and went up to the screen behind which her friend was concealed. he was not alone, for she heard voices within--and it was not a man but a woman who was with him; she could hear her clear laugh at some distance. when she came close up to the screen to call pollux, the woman, who was certainly sitting to him as a model, spoke louder than before, and called out merrily: "but this is delicious! i am to let you fulfil the office of my maid, what audacity these artists have!" "say yes," begged the artist, in the gay and cordial tone which more than once had helped to ensnare selene's heart. "you are beautiful, balbilla, but if you would allow me, you might be far handsomer than you are even." and again there was a merry laugh behind the screen. the pleasant voice must have hurt poor selene acutely for she drew up her shoulders, and her fair features were stamped with an expression of keen suffering, and she pressed both hands over her heart as she went on past the screen and her handsome flirting playfellow, limping across the courtyard and into the road. what tortured the poor child so cruelly? the poverty of her house, and her bodily pain, which increased at every step, or her numbed and sore heart, betrayed of her newly-blossoming, last, and fairest hope? chapter xvi. usually when selene went out walking, many people looked at her with admiration, but to-day a couple of street-boys composed her escort. they ran after her calling out impudently, 'dot, and go one,' and tried ruthlessly to snatch at the loosely-tied sandal on her injured foot, which tapped the pavement at every step. while selene was thus making her way with cruel pain, satisfaction and happiness had visited arsinoe; for hardly had selene and antinous quitted her father's apartments, when hiram begged her to show him the little bottle which the handsome youth had just given her. the dealer turned it over and over in the sunlight, tested its ring, tried to scratch it with the stone in his ring, and then muttered, "vasa murrhma." the words did not escape the girl's sharp ears, and she had heard her father say that the costliest of all the ornamental vessels with which the wealthy romans were wont to decorate their reception-rooms, were those called vasa murrhina; so she explained to him at once, that she knew what high prices were paid for such vases, and that she had no mind to sell it cheaply. he began to bid, she laughingly demanded ten times the price, and after a long battle between the dealer and the owner, fought now half in jest, and now in grave earnest, the phoenician said: "two thousand drachmae; not a sesterce more." that is not enough by a long way, but then it is yours." "i would hardly have given half to a less fair customer." "and i only let you have it because you are such a polite man." "i will send you the money before sundown." at these words the girl, who had been radiant with surprise and delight, and who would have liked to throw her arms round the bald-headed merchant's neck, or round that of her old slave, who was even less attractive, or for that matter, would have embraced the world--the triumphant girl became thoughtful; her father would certainly come home ere long, and she could not conceal from herself that he would disapprove of the whole proceeding, and would probably send the phial back to the young man, and the money to the dealer. she herself would never have asked the stranger for the bottle if she had had the slightest suspicion of its value; but now it certainly belonged to her, and if she had given it back again she would have given no one any pleasure; on the contrary, she would have offended the stranger, and probably have lost the greatest pleasure that she had ever enjoyed. what was to be done now? she was still perched on the table; she had taken her left foot in her right hand, and sitting in this quaint position, she looked down on the ground as gravely as if she were trying to find an idea, or a way out of the difficulty, in the pattern on the floor. the dealer for a moment amused himself in studying her bewilderment, which he thought charming--only wishing that his son, a young painter, were standing in his place. at last he broke the silence however, saying: "your father, perhaps, will not agree to our bargain; and yet it is for him you want the money?" "who says so?" "would he have offered me his own treasures if he had not wanted money?" "it is only--i can--only--" stammered arsinoe, who was unaccustomed to falsehood--i would merely not confess to him--" "i myself saw how innocently you came by the phial," said the dealer, "and keraunus never need know anything about such a trifle. fancy yourself, that you have broken it, and that the pieces are lying at the bottom of the sea. which of all these things does your father value least?" "this old sword of antony," answered the child, her face brightening once more. "he says it is much too long, and too slender to be what it pretends to be. for my part i do not believe that it is a sword at all, but a roasting-spit." "i shall apply it to that very purpose to-morrow morning in my kitchen," said the dealer, "but i offer you two thousand drachmae for it, and will take it with me and send you the amount in a few hours. will that do?" arsinoe dropped her foot, glided from the table, and instead of answering, clapped her hands with glee. "only tell him," continued hiram, "that i am able just now to pay so much for this kind of thing, because caesar is certain to look about him for the things that belonged to julius caesar, marc antony, octavianus, augustus, and other great romans who have lived in egypt. the old woman there may bring the spit after me. my slave is waiting outside, and can hide it under his chiton as far as my kitchen door, for if he carried it openly the connoisseurs passing by might covet the priceless treasure, and we must protect ourselves from the evil eye." the dealer laughed, took the little bottle into his own keeping, gave the sword to the old woman, and then took a friendly leave of the young girl. as soon as arsinoe was alone, she flew into the bedroom to put on her sandals, threw her veil over her head, and hastened to the papyrus manufactory. selene must know of the unexpected good fortune that had befallen her, and all of them, and then she would have the poor girl carried home in a litter, for there were always plenty for hire on the quay. things did not always go smoothly--very often very unsmoothly and stormily between the sisters, but still anything of importance that happened to arsinoe, whether it were good or evil, she must at once tell selene. ye gods! what happiness! she could take her place among the daughters of the great citizens in the processions, no less richly apparelled than they, and still there would remain a nice little sum for her father and sister; and the work in the factory, the nasty dirty work, which she hated and loathed, would be at an end, it was to be hoped, for ever. the old slave was still sitting on the steps with the children; arsinoe tossed them up one after the other, and whispered in each child's ear: "cakes this evening!" and she kissed the blind child's eyes, and said: "you may come with me, dear little man. i will find a litter for selene and put you in, and you will be carried home like a little prince." the little blind boy threw his arms up with delight, exclaiming: "through the air, and without falling." while she was still holding him in her arms, her father came up the steps that led from the rotunda to the passage, his face streaming with heat and excitement; and after wiping his brow and panting to regain his breath, he said: "hiram, the curiosity-dealer, met me just outside, with the sword that belonged to antony; and you sold it to him for two thousand drachmae! you little fool!" "but, father, you would have given the old spit for a pasty and a draught of wine," laughed arsinoe. "i?" cried keraunus. "i would have had three times the sum for that venerable relic, for which caesar will give its weight in silver; however, sold is sold. and yet-and yet, the thought that i no longer possess the sword of antony, will give me many sleepless nights." "if this evening we set you down to a good dish of meat, sleep will soon follow," answered arsinoe, and she took the handkerchief out of her father's hand, and coaxingly wiped his temples, going on vivaciously: "we are quite rich folks, father, and will show the other citizens' daughters what we can do." "now you shall both take part in the festival," said keraunus, decidedly. "caesar shall see that i shun no sacrifice in his honor, and if he notices you, and i bring my complaint against that insolent architect before him--" "you must let that pass," begged arsinoe, "if only poor selene's foot is well by that time." "where is she?" "gone out." "then her foot cannot be so very bad. she will soon come in, it is to be hoped." "probably--i mean to fetch her with a litter." "a litter?" said keraunus, in surprise. "the two thousand drachmae have turned the girl's head." "only on account of her foot. it was hurting her so much when she went out." "then why did she not stay at home? as usual she has wasted an hour to save a sesterce, and you, neither of you have any time to spare." "i will go after her at once." "no--no, you at any rate, must remain here, for in two hours the matrons and maidens are to meet at the theatre." "in two hours! but mighty serapis, what are we to put on?" "it is your business to see to that," replied keraunus, "i myself will have the litter you spoke of, and be carried down to tryphon, the shipbuilder. is there any money left in selene's box?" arsinoe went into her sleeping-room, and said, as she returned: "this is all--six pieces of two drachmae." "four will be enough for me," replied the steward, but after a moment's reflection he took the whole half-dozen. "what do you want with the ship-builder?" asked arsinoe. "in the council," replied keraunus, "i was worried again about you girls. i said one of my daughters was ill, and the other must attend upon her; but this would not do, and i was asked to send the one who was well. then i explained that you had no mother, that we lived a retired life for each other, and that i could not bear the idea of sending my daughter alone, and without any protectress to the meeting. so then tryphon said that it would give his wife pleasure to take you to the theatre with her own daughter. this i half accepted, but i declared at once that you would not go, if your elder sister were not better. i could not give any positive consent--you know why." "oh, blessings on antony and his noble spit!" cried arsinoe. "now everything is settled, and you can tell the ship-builder we shall go. our white dresses are still quite good, but a few ells of new light blue ribbon for my hair, and of red for selene's, you must buy on the way, at abibaal, the phoenician's." "very good." "i will see at once to both the dresses--but, to be sure, when are we to be ready?" "in two hours." "then, do you know what, dear old father?" "well?" "our old woman is half blind, and does everything wrong. do let me go down to dame doris at the gate-house, and ask her to help me. she is so clever and kind, and no one irons so well as she does." "silence!" cried the steward, angrily, interrupting his daughter. "those people shall never again cross my threshold." "but look at my hair; only look at the state it is in," cried arsinoe, excitedly, and thrusting her fingers into her thick tresses which she pulled into disorder. "to do that up again, plait it with new ribbons, iron our dresses, and sew on the brooches--why the empress' ladies-maid could not do all that in two hours." "doris shall never cross this threshold," repeated keraunus, for all his answer. "then tell the tailor hippias to send me an assistant; but that will cost money." "we have it, and can pay," replied keraunus, proudly, and in order not to forget his commissions he muttered to himself while he went to get a litter: "hippias the tailor, blue ribbon, red ribbon, and tryphon the shipbuilder." the tailor's nimble apprentice helped arsinoe to arrange her dress and selene's, and was never weary of praising the sheen and silkiness of arsinoe's hair, while she twisted it with ribbons, built it up and twisted it at the back so gracefully with a comb, that it fell in a thick mass of artfully-curled locks down her neck and back. when keraunus came back, he gazed with justifiable pride at his beautiful child; he was immensely pleased, and even chuckled softly to himself as he laid out the gold pieces which were brought to him by the curiosity-dealer's servant, and set them in a row and counted them. while he was thus occupied, arsinoe went up to him and asked laughing: "hiram has not cheated me then?" keraunus desired her not to disturb him, and added: "think of that sword, the weapon of the great antony, perhaps the very one with which he pierced his own breast.--where can selene be?" an hour, an hour and a half had slipped by, and when the fourth halfhour was well begun, and still his eldest daughter did not return, the steward announced that they must set out, for that it would not do to keep the ship-builder's wife waiting. it was a sincere grief to arsinoe to be obliged to go without selene. she had made her sister's dress look as nice as her own, and had laid it carefully on the divan near the mosaic pavement. she had taken a great deal of trouble. never before had she been out in the streets alone, and it seemed impossible to enjoy anything without the companionship and supervision of her absent sister. but her father's assertion, that selene would have a place gladly found for her, even later, among the maidens, reassured the girl who was overflowing with joyful expectation. finally she perfumed herself a little with the fragrant extract which keraunus was accustomed to use before going to the council, and begged her father to order the old slave-woman to go and buy the promised cakes for the little ones during her absence. the children had all gathered round her, admiring her with loud ohs! and ahs! as if she were some wondrous incarnation, not to be too nearly approached, and on no account to be touched. the elaborate dressing of her hair would not allow of her stooping over them as usual. she could only stroke little helios' curls, saying: "tomorrow you shall have a ride in the air, and perhaps selene will tell you a pretty story by-and-bye." her heart beat faster than usual as she stepped into the litter, which was waiting for her just in front of the gate-house. old doris looked at her from a distance with pleasure, and while keraunus stepped out into the street to call a litter for himself, the old woman hastily cut the two finest roses from her bush, and pressing her fingers to her lips with a sly smile, put them into the girl's hand. arsinoe felt as if it were in a dream that she went to the ship-builder's house, and from thence to the theatre, and on her way she fully understood, for the first time, that alarm and delight may find room side by side in a girl's mind, and that one by no means hinders the existence of the other. fear and expectation so completely overmastered her, that she neither saw nor heard what was going on around her; only once she noticed a young man with a garland on his head, who, as he passed her, arm in arm with another, called out to her gaily: "long live beauty!" from that moment she kept her eyes fixed on her lap and on the roses dame doris had given her. the flowers reminded her of the kind old woman's son, and she wondered whether tall pollux had perhaps seen her in her finery. that, she would have liked very much; and after all, it was not at all impossible, for, of course, since pollux had been working at lochias he must often have gone to his parents. perhaps even he had himself picked the roses for her, but had not dared to give them to her as her father was so near. chapter xvii. but the young sculptor had not been at the gatehouse when arsinoe went by. he had thought of her often enough since meeting her again by the bust of her mother; but on this particular afternoon his time and thoughts were fully claimed by another fair damsel. balbilla had arrived at lochias about noon, accompanied, as was fitting, by the worthy claudia, the not wealthy widow of a senator, who for many years had filled the place of lady-in-attendance and protecting companion to the rich fatherless and motherless girl. at rome, she conducted balbilla's household affairs with as much sense and skill as satisfaction in the task. still she was not perfectly content with her lot, for her ward's love of travelling, often compelled her to leave the metropolis, and in her estimation, there was no place but rome where life was worth living. a visit to baiae for bathing, or in the winter months a flight to the ligurian coast, to escape the cold of january and february--these she could endure; for she was certain there to find, if not rome, at any rate romans; but balbilla's wish to venture in a tossing ship, to visit the torrid shores of africa, which she pictured to herself as a burning oven, she had opposed to the utmost. at last, however, she was obliged to put a good face on the matter, for the empress herself expressed so decidedly her wish to take balbilla with her to the nile, that any resistance would have been unduteous. still; in her secret heart, she could not but confess to herself that her high-spirited and wilful foster-child--for so she loved to call balbilla--would undoubtedly have carried out her purpose without the empress' intervention. balbilla had come to the palace, as the reader knows, to sit for her bust. when selene was passing by the screen which concealed her playfellow and his work from her gaze, the worthy matron had fallen gently asleep on a couch, and the sculptor was exerting all his zeal to convince the noble damsel that the size to which her hair was dressed was an exaggeration, and that the super-incumbence of such a mass must disfigure the effect of the delicate features of her face. he implored her to remember in how simple a style the great athenian masters, at the best period of the plastic arts, had taught their beautiful models to dress their hair, and requested her to do her own hair in that manner next day, and to come to him before she allowed her maid to put a single lock through the curlingtongs; for to-day, as he said, the pretty little ringlets would fly back into shape, like the spring of a fibula when the pin was bent back. balbilla contradicted him with gay vivacity, protested against his desire to play the part of lady's maid, and defended her style of hair-dressing on the score of fashion. "but the fashion is ugly, monstrous, a pain to one's eyes!" cried pollux. "some vain roman lady must have invented it, not to make herself beautiful, but to be conspicuous." "i hate the idea of being conspicuous by my appearance," answered balbilla. "it is precisely by following the fashion, however conspicuous it may be, that we are less remarkable than when we carefully dress far more simply and plainly--in short, differently to what it prescribes. which do you regard as the vainer, the fashionably-dressed young gentleman on the canopic way, or the cynical philosopher with his unkempt hair, his carefully-ragged cloak over his shoulders, and a heavy cudgel in his dirty hands?" "the latter, certainly," replied pollux. "still he is sinning against the laws of beauty which i desire to win you over to, and which will survive every whim of fashion, as certainly as homer's iliad will survive the ballad of a street-singer, who celebrates the last murder that excited the mob of this town.--am i the first artist who has attempted to represent your face?" "no," said balbilla, with a laugh. "five roman artists have already experimented on my head." "and did any one of their busts satisfy you?" "not one seemed to me better than utterly bad." "and your pretty face is to be handed down to posterity in five-fold deformity?" "ah! no--i had them all destroyed." "that was very good of them!" cried pollux, eagerly. then turning with a very simple gesture to the bust before him he said: "hapless clay, if the lovely lady whom thou art destined to resemble will not sacrifice the chaos of her curls, thy fate will undoubtedly be that of thy predecessors." the sleeping matron was roused by this speech. "you were speaking," she said, "of the broken busts of balbilla?" "yes," replied the poetess. "and perhaps this one may follow them," sighed claudia. "do you know what lies before you in that case?" "no, what?" "this young lady knows something of your art." "i learnt to knead clay a little of aristaeus," interrupted balbilla. "aha! because caesar set the fashion, and in rome it would have been conspicuous not to dabble in sculpture." "perhaps." "and she tried to improve in every bust all that particularly displeased her," continued claudia. "i only began the work for the slaves to finish," balbilla threw in, interrupting her companion. "indeed, my people became quite expert in the work of destruction." "then my work may, at any rate, hope for a short agony and speedy death," sighed pollux. "and it is true--all that lives comes into the world with its end already preordained." "would an early demise of your work pain you much? "asked balbilla. "yes, if i thought it successful; not if i felt it to be a failure." "any one who keeps a bad bust," said balbilla, "must feel fearful lest an undeservedly bad reputation is handed down to future generations." "certainly! but how then can you find courage to expose yourself for the sixth time to a form of calumny that it is difficult to counteract?" "because i can have anything destroyed that i choose," laughed the spoilt girl. "otherwise sitting still is not much to my taste." "that is very true," sighed claudia. "but from you i expect something strikingly good." "thank you," said pollux, "and i will take the utmost pains to complete something that may correspond to my own expectations of what a marble portrait ought to be, that deserves to be preserved to posterity." "and those expectations require--?" pollux considered for a moment, and then he replied: "i have not always the right words at my command, for all that i feel as an artist. a plastic presentiment, to satisfy its creator, must fulfil two conditions; first it must record for posterity in forms of eternal resemblance all that lay in the nature of the person it represents; secondly, it must also show to posterity what the art of the time when it was executed, was capable of." "that is a matter of course--but you are forgetting your own share." "my own fame you mean?" "certainly." "i work for papias and serve my art, and that is enough; meanwhile fame does not trouble herself about me, nor do i trouble myself about her." "still, you will put your name on my bust?" "why not?" "you are as prudent as cicero." "cicero?" "perhaps you would hardly know old tullius' wise remark that the philosophers who wrote of the vanity of writers put their names to their books all the same." "oh! i have no contempt for laurels, but i will not run after a thing which could have no value for me, unless it came unsought, and because it was my due." "well and good; but your first condition could only be fulfilled in its widest sense if you could succeed in making yourself acquainted with my thoughts and feelings, with the whole of my inmost mind." "i see you and talk to you," replied pollux. claudia laughed aloud, and said: "if instead of two sittings of two hours you were to talk to her for twice as many years you would always find something new in her. not a week passes in which rome does not find in her something to talk about. that restless brain is never quiet, but her heart is as good as gold, and always and everywhere the same." "and did you suppose that that was new to me?" asked pollux. "i can see the restless spirit of my model in her brow and in her mouth, and her nature is revealed in her eyes." "and in my snub-nose?" asked balbilla. "it bears witness to your wonderful and whimsical notions, which astonish rome so much." "perhaps you are one more that works for the hammer of the slaves," laughed balbilla. "and even if it were so," said pollux, "i should always retain the memory of this delightful hour." pontius the architect here interrupted the sculptor, begging balbilla to excuse him for disturbing the sitting; pollux must immediately attend to some business of importance, but in ten minutes he would return to his work. no sooner were the two ladies alone, than balbilla rose and looked inquisitively round and about the sculptor's enclosed work-room; but her companion said: "a very polite young man, this pollux, but rather too much at his ease, and too enthusiastic." "an artist," replied balbilla, and she proceeded to turn over every picture and tablet with the sculptor's studies in drawing, raised the cloth from the wax model of the urania, tried the clang of the lute which hung against one of the canvas walls, was here, there, and everywhere, and at last stood still in front of a large clay model, placed in a corner of the studio, and closely wrapped in cloths. "what may that be?" asked claudia. "no doubt a half-finished new model." balbilla felt the object in front of her with the tips of her fingers, and said: "it seems to me to be a head. something remarkable at any rate. in these close covered dishes we sometimes find the best meat. let its unveil this shrouded portrait." "who knows what it may be?" said claudia, as she loosened a twist in the cloths which enveloped the bust. there are often very remarkable things to be seen in such workshops. "hey, what, it is only a woman's head! i can feel it," cried balbilla. "but you can never tell," the older lady went on, untying a knot. "these artists are such unfettered, unaccountable beings." "do you lift the top, i will pull here," and a moment later the young roman stood face to face with the caricature which hadrian had moulded on the previous evening, in all its grimacing ugliness. she recognized herself in it at once, and at the first moment, laughed loudly, but the longer she looked at the disfigured likeness, the more vexed, annoyed and angry she became. she knew her own face, feature for feature, all that was pretty in it, and all that was plain, but this likeness ignored everything in her face that was not unpleasing, and this it emphasized ruthlessly, and exaggerated with a refinement of spitefulness. the head was hideous, horrible, and yet it was hers. as she studied it in profile, she remembered what pollux had declared he could read in her features, and deep indignation rose up in her soul. her great inexhaustible riches, which allowed her the reckless gratification of every whim, and secured consideration, even for her follies, had not availed to preserve her from many disappointments which other girls, in more modest circumstances, would have been spared. her kind heart and open hand had often been abused, even by artists, and it was self-evident to her, that the man who could make this caricature, who had so enjoyed exaggerating all that was unlovely in her face, had wished to exercise his art on her features, not for her own sake, but for that of the high price she might be inclined to pay for a flattering likeness. she had found much to please her in the young sculptor's fresh and happy artist nature, in his frank demeanor and his honest way of speech. she felt convinced that pollux, more readily than anybody else, would understand what it was that lent a charm to her face, which was in no way strictly beautiful, a charm which could not be disputed in spite of the coarse caricature which stood before her. she felt herself the richer by a painful experience, indignant, and offended. accustomed as she was to give prompt utterance even to her displeasure, she exclaimed hotly, and with tears in her eyes: "it is shameful, it is base. give me my wraps claudia. i will not stay an instant longer to be the butt of this man's coarse and spiteful jesting." "it is unworthy," cried the matron, "so to insult a person of your position. it is to be hoped our litters are waiting outside." pontius had overheard balbilla's last words. he had come into the workplace without pollux, who was still speaking to the prefect, and he said gravely as he approached balbilla: "you have every reason to be angry, noble lady. this thing is an insult in clay, malicious, and at the same time coarse in every detail; but it was not pollux who did it, and it is not right to condemn without a trial." "you take your friend's part!" exclaimed balbilla. "i would not tell a lie for my own brother." "you know how to give your words the aspect of an honorable meaning in serious matters, as he does in jest." "you are angry and unaccustomed to bridle your tongue," replied the architect. "pollux, i repeat it, did not perpetrate the caricature, but a sculptor from rome." "which of them? i know them all." "i may not name him." "there--you see.--come away claudia." "stay," said pontius, decisively. "if you were any one but yourself, i would let you go at once in your anger, and with the double charge on your conscience of doing an injustice to two well-meaning men. but as you are the granddaughter of claudius balbillus, i feel it to be due to myself to say, that if pollux had really made this monstrous bust he would not be in this palace now, for i should have turned him out and thrown the horrid object after him. you look surprised--you do not know who i am that can address you so." "yes, yes," cried balbilla, much mollified, for she felt assured that the man who stood before her, as unflinching as if he were cast in bronze, and with an earnest frown, was speaking the truth, and that he must have some right to speak to her with such unwonted decision. "yes indeed, you are the principal architect of the city; titianus, from whom we have heard of you, has told us great things of you; but how am i to account for your special interest in me?" "it is my duty to serve you--if necessary, even with my life." "you," said balbilla, puzzled. "but i never saw you till yesterday." "and yet you may freely dispose of all that i have and am, for my grandfather was your grandfather's slave." "i did not know"--said balbilla, with increasing confusion. "is it possible that your noble grandfather's instructor, the venerable sophinus, is altogether forgotten. sophinus, whom your grandfather freed, and who continued to teach your father also." "certainly not--of course not," cried balbilla. "he must have been a splendid man, and very learned besides." "he was my father's father," said pontius. "then you belong to our family," exclaimed balbilla, offering him a friendly hand. "i thank you for those words," answered pontius. "now, once more, pollux had nothing to do with that image." "take my cloak, claudia," said the girl. "i will sit again to the young man." "not to-day--it would spoil his work," replied pontius. "i beg of you to go, and let the annoyance you so vehemently expressed die out some where else. the young sculptor must not know that you have seen this caricature, it would occasion him much embarrassment. but if you can return to-morrow in a calmer and more happy humor, with your lively spirit tuned to a softer key, then pollux will be able to make a likeness which may satisfy the granddaughter of claudius balbillus." "and, let us hope, the grandson of his learned teacher also," answered balbilla, with a kindly farewell greeting, as she went with her companion towards the door of the hall of the muses, where her slaves were waiting. pontius escorted her so far in silence, then he returned to the workplace, and safely wrapped the caricature up again in its cloths. as he went out into the hall again, pollux hurried up to meet him, exclaiming: "the roman architect wants to speak to you, he is a grand man!" "balbilla was called away, and bid me greet you," replied pontius. "take that thing away for fear she should see it. it is coarse and hideous." a few moments later he stood in the presence of the emperor, who expressed the wish to play the part of listener while balbilla was sitting. when the architect, after begging him not to let pollux know of the incident, told him of what had occurred in the screened-off studio, and how angry the young roman lady had been at the caricature, which was certainly very offensive, hadrian rubbed his hands and laughed aloud with delight. pontius ground his teeth, and then said very earnestly: "balbilla seems to me a merry-hearted girl, but of a noble nature. i see no reason to laugh at her." hadrian looked keenly into the daring architect's eyes, laid his hand on his shoulder, and replied with a certain threatening accent in his deep voice: "it would be an evil moment for you, or for any one, who should do so in my presence. but age may venture to play with edged tools, which children may not even touch." chapter xviii. selene entered the gate-way in the endlessly-long walk of sun-dried bricks which enclosed the wide space where stood the court-yards, watertanks and huts, belonging to the great papyrus manufactory of plutarch, where she and her sister were accustomed to work. she could generally reach it in a quarter of an hour, but to-day it had taken more than four times as long and she herself did not know how she had managed to hold herself up, and to walk-limp-stumble along, in spite of the acute pain she was suffering. she would willingly have clung to every passer-by, have held on to every slow passing vehicle, to every beast of burden that overtook her--but man and beast mercilessly went on their way, without paying any heed to her. she got many a push from those who were hurrying by and who scarcely turned round to look at her, when from time to time she stopped to sink for a moment on to the nearest door-step, or some low cornice or bale of goods; to dry her eyes, or press her hand to her foot, which was now swollen to a great size, hoping, as she did so, to be able to forget, under the sense of a new form of pain, the other unceasing and unendurable torment, at least for a few minutes. the street boys who had run after her, and laughed at her, ceased pursuing her when they found that she constantly stopped to rest. a woman with a child in her arms once asked her, as she stopped to rest a minute on a threshold, whether she wanted anything, but walked on when selene shook her head and made no other answer. once she thought she must give up altogether, when suddenly the street was filled with jeering boys and inquisitive men and women--for verus, the superb verus, came by in his chariot, and what a chariot! the alexandrian populace were accustomed to see much that was strange in the busy streets of their crowded city; but this vehicle attracted every eye, and excited astonishment, admiration and mirth, wherever it appeared, and not unfrequently the bitterest ridicule. the handsome roman stood in the middle of his gilt chariot, and himself drove the four white horses, harnessed abreast; on his head he wore a wreath, and across his breast, from one shoulder, a garland of roses. on the foot-board of the quadriga sat two children, dressed as cupids; their little legs dangled in the air, and they each held, attached by a long gilt wire, a white dove which fluttered in front of verus. the dense and hurrying crowd, crushed selene remorselessly against the wall; instead of looking at the wonderful sight she covered her face with her hands to hide the distortion of pain in her features; still she just saw the splendid chariot, the gold harness on the horses, and the figure of the insolent owner glide past her, as if in a dream that was blurred by pain, and the sight infused into her soul, that was already harassed by pain and anxiety, a feeling of bitter aversion, and the envious thought that the mere trappings of the horses of this extravagant prodigal would suffice to keep her and her family above misery for a whole year. by the time the chariot had turned the next corner, and the crowd had followed it, she had almost fallen to the ground. she could not take another step, and looked round for a litter, but, while generally there was no lack of them, in this spot, to-day there was not one to be seen. the factory was only a few hundred steps farther, but in her fancy they seemed like so many stadia. presently some of the workmen and women from the factory came by, laughing and showing each other their wages, so the payment must be now going on. a glance at the sun showed her how long she had already been on her way, and remind her of the purpose of her walk. with the exertion of all her strength, she dragged herself a few steps farther; then, just as her courage was again beginning to fail, a little girl came running towards her who was accustomed to wait upon the workers at the table where selene and arsinoe were employed, and who held in her hand a pitcher. she called the dusky little egyptian, and said: "hathor, pray come back to the factory with me. i cannot walk any farther, my foot is so dreadfully painful; but if i lean a little on your shoulder, i shall get on better." "i cannot," said the child. "if i make haste home i shall have some dates," and she ran on. selene looked after her, and an inward voice, against which she had had to rebel before to-day, asked her why she of all people must be a sufferer for others, when they thought only of themselves, and with a heavy sigh, she made a fresh attempt to proceed on her way. when she had gone a few steps, neither seeing not hearing anything that passed her, a girl came up to her, and asked her timidly, but kindly, what was the matter. it was a leaf-joiner who sat opposite to her at the works, a poor, deformed creature, who, nevertheless, plied her nimble fingers contentedly and silently, and who at first had taught selene and arsinoe many useful tricks of working. the girl offered her crooked shoulder unasked as a support to selene, and measured her step; to those of the sufferer with as much nicety as if she felt everything that selene herself did; thus, without speaking, they reached the door of the factory; there, in the first court-yard the little hunchback made selene sit down on one of the bundles of papyrus-stems which lay all about the place, by the side of the tanks in which the plants were dipped to freshen them, and arranged in order, built up into high heaps, according to the localities whence they were brought. after a short rest, they went on through the hall in which the triangular green stems were sorted, according to the quality of the white pith they contained. the next rooms, in which men stripped the green sheath from the pith, and the long galleries where the more skilled hands split the pith with sharp knives into long moist strips about a finger wide, and of different degrees of fineness, seemed to selene to grow longer the farther she went, and to be absolutely interminable. generally the pith-splitters sat here in long rows, each at his own little table, on each side of a gangway left for the slaves, who carried the prepared material to the drying-house; but, to-day, most of them had left their places and stood chatting together and packing up their wooden clips, knives, and sharpening-stones. half way down this room selene's hand fell from her companion's shoulder, she turned giddy, and said in a low tone: "i can go no farther--" the little hunchback held her up as well as she could, and though she herself was far from strong, she succeeded in dragging, rather than carrying, selene to an empty couch and in laying her upon it. a few workmen gathered around the senseless girl, and brought some water, then when she opened her eyes again, and they found that she belonged to the rooms where the prepared papyrus-leaves were gummed together, some of them offered to carry her thither, and before selene could consent they had taken up the bench and lifted it with its light burden. her damaged foot hung down, and gave the poor girl such pain that she cried out, and tried to raise the injured limb and hold her ankle in her band; her comrade helped by taking the poor little foot in her own hand, and supporting it with tender and cautious care. as she thus went by, carried, as it were, in triumph by the men, and borne high in the air, everyone turned to look at her, and the suffering girl felt this rather as if she were some criminal being carried through the streets to exhibit her disgrace to the citizens. but when she found herself in the large rooms where, in one place men, and in another the most skilled of the women and girls were employed in laying the narrow strips of papyrus crosswise over each other, and gumming them together, she had recovered strength enough to pull her veil over her face which she held down. arsinoe, and she herself, in order to remain unrecognized had always been accustomed to walk through these rooms closely veiled, and not to lay their wraps aside till they reached the little room where they sat with about twenty other women to glue the sheets together. every one looked at her with curious enquiry. her foot certainly hurt her, the cut in her head was burning, and she felt altogether intensely miserable; still there was room and to spare in her soul for the false pride that she inherited from her father, and for the humiliating consciousness that she was regarded by these people as one of themselves. in the room in which she worked, none but free women were employed, but more than a thousand slaves worked in the factory and she would as soon have eaten with beasts without plate or spoon, as have shared a meal with them. at one time, when every thing in their house seemed going to ruin, it was her own father who had suggested the papyrus factory to her attention, by telling her, with indignation, that the daughter of an impoverished citizen had degraded herself and her whole class by devoting herself to working in the papyrus factory to earn money. she was pretty well paid, to be sure, and in answer to selene's enquiry, he had stated the amount she earned and mentioned the name of the rich manufacturer to whom she had sold her social standing for gold. soon after this selene had gone alone to the factory, had discussed all that was necessary with the manager, and had then begun, with arsinoe, to work regularly in the factory where they now for two years had spent some hours of every day in gumming the papyrus-leaves together. how many a time at the beginning of a new week, or when under the influence of a special fit of aversion to her work, had arsinoe refused to go with her ever again to the factory; how much persuasive eloquence had she expended, how many new ribbons had she bought, how often had she consented to allow her to go to some spectacle, which consumed half a week's wages, to induce arsinoe to persist in her work, or to avert the fulfilment of her threat to tell her father, whither her daily walk--as she called it--tended. when selene, who had been carried as far as the door of her own workroom, was sitting once more in her usual place in front of the long table on which she worked, and where hundreds of prepared papyrus strips were to be joined together, she felt scarcely able to raise the veil from her face. she drew the uppermost sheets towards her, dipped the brush in the gum-jar, and began to touch the margin of the leaf with it--but in the very act, her strength forsook her, the brush fell from her fingers, she dropped her hands on the table and her face in her hands, and began to cry softly. while she sat thus, her tears slowly flowing, her shoulders heaving, and her whole body shaken with shuddering sobs, a woman who sat opposite to her, beckoned to the deformed girl, and after whispering to her a few words grasped her hand firmly and warmly and looked straight into her eyes with her own, which though lustreless were clear and steady; then the little hunchback silently took arsinoe's vacant place by selene, and pushed the smaller half of the papyrus leaves over to the woman, and both set diligently to work on the gumming. they had been thus occupied for some time when selene at last raised her head and was about to take up her brush again. she looked round for it and perceived her companion, whom she had not even thanked for her helpfulness, busily at work in arsinoe's seat. she looked at her neighbor with eyes still full of tears, and as the girl, who was wholly absorbed in her task, did not notice her gaze, selene said in a tone of surprise rather than kindliness. "this is my sister's place; you may sit here to-day, but when the factory opens again she must sit by me again." "i know, i know," said the workwoman shyly. "i am only finishing your sheets because i have no more of my own to do, and i can see how badly your foot is hurting you." the whole transaction was so strange and novel to selene that she did not even understand her neighbor's meaning, and she only said, with a shrug: "you may earn all you can, for aught i can do; i cannot do anything today." her deformed companion colored and looked up doubtfully at her opposite neighbor, who at once laid aside her brush and said, turning to selene: "that is not what mary means, my child. she is doing one-half of your day's task and i am doing the other, so that your suffering foot may not deprive you of your day's pay." "do i look so very poor then?" exclaimed keraunus' daughter, and a faint crimson tinged her pale cheeks. "by no means, my child," replied the woman. "you and your sister are evidently of good family--but pray let us have the pleasure of being of some help to you. "i do not know--" selene stammered. "if you saw that it hurt me to stoop when the wind blows the strips of papyrus on to the floor, would you not willingly pick them up for me?" continued the woman. "what we are doing for you is neither less nor yet much more than that. in a few minutes we shall have finished and then we can follow the others, for every one else has left. i am the overseer of the room, as you know, and must in any case remain here till the last work-woman has gone." selene felt full well that she ought to be grateful for the kindness shown her by these two women, and yet she had a sense of having a deed of almsgiving forced upon her acceptance, and she answered quickly, still with the blood mounting to her cheeks. "i am very grateful for your good intentions, of course, very grateful; but here each one must work for herself, and it would ill-become me to allow you to give me the money you have earned." the girl spoke these words with a decisiveness which was not free from arrogance, but this did not disturb the woman's gentle equanimity--"widow hannah," as she was called by the workwoman--and fixing the calm gaze of her large eyes on selene, she answered kindly: "we have been very happy to work for you, dear daughter, and a divine sage has said that it is more blessed to give than to receive. do you understand all that that means? in our case it is as much as to say that it makes kind-hearted folks much happier to do others a pleasure than to receive good gifts. you said just now that you were grateful; do you want now to spoil our pleasure?" "i do not quite understand--" answered selene. "no?" interrupted widow hannah. "then only try for once to do some one a pleasure with sincere and heartfelt love, and you will see how much good it does one, how it opens the heart and turns every trouble to a pleasure. is it not true mary, we shall he sincerely obliged to selene if only she will not spoil the pleasure we have had in working for her?" "i have been so glad to do it," said the deformed girl, "and there--now i have finished." "and i too," said the widow, pressing the last leaf on to its fellow with a cloth, and then adding her pile of finished sheets to mary's. "thank you very much," murmured selene, with downcast eyes, and rising from her seat, but she tried to support herself on her lame foot and this caused her such pain, that with a low cry, she sank back on the stool. the widow hastened to her side, knelt clown by her, took the injured foot with tender care in her delicate and slender hands, examined it attentively, felt it gently, and then exclaimed with horror: "good lord! and did you walk through the streets with a foot in this state?" and looking up at selene she said affectionately. "poor child, poor child! it must have hurt you! why the swelling has risen above your sandal-straps. it is frightful! and yet--do you live far from this?" "i can get home in half an hour." "impossible! first let me see on my tablets how much the paymaster owes you that i may go and fetch it, and then we will soon see what can be done with you. meanwhile you sit still daughter dear, and you mary rest her foot on a stool and undo the straps very gently from her ankle. do not be afraid my child, she has soft, careful hands." as she spoke she rose and kissed selene on her forehead and eyes, and selene clung to her and could only say with swimming eyes, and a voice trembling with feeling: "dame hannah, dear widow hannah." as the warm sunshine of an october clay reminds the traveller of the summer that is over, so the widow's words and ways brought back to selene the long lost love and care of her good mother; and something soothing mingled in the bitterness of the pain she was suffering. she looked gratefully at the kind woman and obediently sat still; it was such a comfort once more to obey an order, and to obey willingly--to feel herself a child again and to be grateful for loving care. hannah went away, and mary knelt down in front of selene to loosen and remove the straps which were half buried in the swelled muscles. she did it with the greatest caution, but her fingers had hardly touched her, when selene shrank back with a groan, and before she could undo the sandal, the patient had fainted away. mary fetched some water and bathed her brow, and the burning wound in her head, and by the time selene had once more opened her eyes, dame hannah had returned. when the widow stroked her thick soft hair, selene looked up with a smile and asked: "have i been to sleep?" "you shut your eyes my child," replied the widow. "here are your wages and your sister's, for twelve days; do not move, i will put it in your little bag. mary has not succeeded in loosening your sandal, but the physician who is paid to attend on the factory people will be here directly, and will order what is proper for your poor foot. the manager is having a litter fetched for you.--where do you live?" "we?" cried selene, alarmed. "no, no, i must go home." "but my child you cannot walk farther than the court-yard even if we both help you." "then let me get a litter out in the street. my father--no one must know--i cannot." hannah signed to mary to leave them, and when she had shut the door on the deformed girl, she brought a stool, sat down opposite to selene, laid a hand on the knee that was not hurt, and said: "now, dear girl, we are alone. i am no chatterbox, and will certainly not betray your confidence. tell me quietly who you belong to. tell me --you believe that i mean well by you?" "yes," replied selene, looking the widow full in the face-a regularly-cut face, set in abundant smooth brown hair, and with the stamp of genuine and heart-felt goodness. "yes--you remind me of my mother." "well, i might be your mother." "i am nineteen years old already." "already," replied hannah, with a smile. "why my life has been twice as long as yours. i had a child, too, a boy; and he was taken from me when he was quite little. he would be a year older than you now, my child-is your mother still alive?" "no," said selene, with her old dry manner, that had become a habit. "the gods have taken her from us. she would have been, like you, not quite forty now, and she was as pretty and as kind as you are. when she died she left seven children besides me, all little, and one of them blind. i am the eldest, and do what i can for them, that they may not be starved." "god will help you in the loving task." "the gods!" exclaimed selene, bitterly. "they let them grow up, the rest i have to see to--oh! my foot, my foot!" "yes, we will think of that before anything else. your father is alive?" "yes." "and he is not to know that you work here?" selene shook her head. "he is in moderate circumstances, but of good family?" "yes." "here, i think, is the doctor. well? may i know your father's name? i must if i am to get you safe home." "i am the daughter of keraunus, the steward of the palace, and we have rooms there, at lochias," selene answered, with rapid decision, but in a low whisper, so that the physician, who just then opened the room door, might not hear her. "no one, and least of all, my father, must know that i work here." the widow made a sign to her to be easy, greeted the grey-haired leech who came in with his assistant; and then, while the old man examined the injured limb, and cut the straps with a sharp pair of scissors, she bathed the girl's face and cut head with a wet handkerchief, supported the poor child in her arms, and, when the pain seemed too much for her, kissed her pale cheeks. many sighs from the bottom of her heart, and many shrill little cries betrayed how intense was the pain selene was enduring. when at length, her delicate and graceful foot-distorted just now by the extensive swelling,--was freed from the bands and straps, and the ankle had been felt and pressed in every direction by the leech, he exclaimed, turning to the assistant who stood ready to lend a helping hand: "look here, hippolytus, the girl came along the streets with her ankle in this state. if any one else had told me of such a thing, i should have desired him to keep his lies to himself. the fibula is broken at the joint, and with this injured limb the child has walked farther than i could trust myself at all--without my litter. by sirius! child, if you are not crippled for life it will be a miracle." selene had listened with closed eyes, and exhausted almost to unconsciousness; but at his last words she slightly shrugged her shoulders with a faint smile of scorn on her lips. "you think nothing of being lame!" said the old man, who let no gesture of his patient escape him. "that, of course, is your affair, but it is mine to see that you do not become a cripple in my hands. the opportunity for working a miracle is not given to one of us every day, and happily for me, you yourself bring a powerful coadjutor to help me. i do not mean a lover or anything of that kind, though you are much too pretty, but your lovely, vigorous, healthy youth. the hole in your head is hotter than it need be--keep it properly cool with fresh water. where do you live, child?" "almost half an hour from here," said hannah, answering for selene. "she cannot be taken so far as that, even in a litter, at present," said the old man. "i must go home!" cried selene, resolutely, and trying to sit up. "nonsense," exclaimed the physician. "i must forbid your moving at all. be still, and be patient and obedient, or your foolish joke will come to a bad end; fever has already set in, and it will increase by the evening. it has nothing much to do with the leg, but all the more with the inflamed scalp-wound. do you think," he added, turning to the widow, "that perhaps a bed could be made here on which she might lie, and remain here till the factory reopens?" "i would rather die," shrieked selene, trying to draw away her foot from the leech. "be still--be still, my dear child," said the good woman, soothingly. "i know where i can take you. my house is in a garden belonging to paulina, the widow of pudeus, near this and close to the sea; it is not above a thousand paces off, and there you will have a soft couch and tender care. a good litter is waiting, and i should think--" "even that is a good distance," said the old man. "however, she cannot possibly be better cared for than by you, dame hannah. let us try it then, and i will accompany you to lash those accursed bearers' skins if they do not keep in step." selene made no attempt to resist these orders, and willingly drank a potion which the old man gave her; but she cried to herself as she was lifted into the litter and her foot was carefully propped on pillows. in the street, which they soon reached through a side door, she again almost lost consciousness, and half awake but half as in a dream, she heard the leech's voice as he cautioned the bearers to walk carefully, and saw the people, and vehicles, and horsemen pass her on their way. then she saw that she was being carried through a large garden, and at last she dimly perceived that she was being laid on a bed. from that moment every thing was merged in a dream, though the frequent convulsions of pain that passed over her features and now and then a rapid movement of her hand to the cut in her head, showed that she was not altogether oblivious to the reality of her sufferings. dame hannah sat by the bed, and carried out the physician's instructions with exactness; he himself did not leave his patient till he was perfectly satisfied with her bed and her position. mary stayed with the widow helping her to wet handkerchiefs and to make bandages out of old linen. when selene began to breathe more calmly hannah beckoned her assistant to come close to her and asked in a low voice. "can you stay here till early to-morrow, we must take it in turns to watch her, most likely for several nights--how hot this wound on her head is!" "yes, i can stay, only i must tell my mother that she may not be frightened." "quite right, and then you may undertake another commission for i cannot leave the poor child just now." "her people will be anxious about her." "that is just where you must go; but no one besides us two must know who she is. ask for selene's sister and tell her what has happened; if you see her father tell him that i am taking care of his daughter, and that the physician strictly forbids her moving or being moved. but he must not know that selene is one of us workers, so do not say a word about the factory before him. if you find neither arsinoe nor her father at home, tell any one that opens the door to you that i have taken the sick child in, and did it gladly. but about the workshop, do your hear, not a word. one thing more, the poor girl would never have come down to the factory in spite of such pain, unless her family had been very much in need of her wages; so just give these drachmae to some one and say, as is perfectly true, that we found them about her person." etext editor's bookmarks: enjoy the present day idleness had long since grown to be the occupation of his life it was such a comfort once more to obey an order philosophers who wrote of the vanity of writers this ebook was produced by david widger <widger@cecomet.net> [note: there is a short list of bookmarks, or pointers, at the end of the file for those who may wish to sample the author's ideas before making an entire meal of them. d.w.] the greylock by georg ebers a fairy tale. once upon a time there was a country, more beautiful than all other lands and the castle of the duke, its ruler, lay beside a lake that was bluer than the deepest indigo. a long time ago the knight wendelin and his squire george chanced upon this lake, but they found nothing save waste fields and bleak rocks around it, yet the shores must formerly have borne a different aspect, for there were shattered columns and broken-nosed statues lying on the ground. against the hillside there were remains of ancient walls that once, undoubtedly, had supported terraces of vines, but the rains had long washed the soil from the rocks, and among the caves and crannies of the fallen stonework, and ruined cellars, foxes, bats, and other animals had found a home. the knight was no antiquary, but as he looked about him his curiosity was excited: "what can have happened here?" he said, and his squire wondered also, and followed his master. the latter led his horse to the edge of the water to let him drink, for though he had seen many watercourses in the land, he had found nothing in them save stones, and boulders, and sand. "what if this lake should be salt, like the dead sea in the holy land?" the knight asked, and the squire answered: "ugh, that would be a thousand pities!" as the former raised his hand to his mouth to taste the water, wishing indeed that it were wine, he suddenly heard a strange noise. it was mournful and complaining, but very soft and sweet. it seemed to be the voice of an unhappy woman, and this pleased the knight, for he had ridden forth in search of adventures. he had already been successful in several encounters, and from george's saddle hung the tail-tips of seven dragons which his master had killed. but a woman with a musical, appealing voice, in great danger, offered a rare opportunity to a knight. wendelin had not yet had any such experience. the squire saw his master's eyes sparkle with pleasure, and scratched his head thinking: "distress brings tears to most peoples' eyes, but there is no knowing what will delight a knight like him!" the waters of the lake proved to be not salt, but wonderfully sweet. when wendelin reached the grotto from which the complaining notes came, he found a beautiful young woman, more lovely than any one the greyhaired george had ever seen. she was pale, but her lips shone moist and red like the pulp of strawberries, her eyes were as clear and blue as the sky over the holy land, and her hair glistened as if it had been spun of the sunbeams. the knight's heart beat fast at the sight of her loveliness; he could not speak, but he noticed that her hands and feet were bound with chains, and that her beautiful hair was entwined about a circle of emeralds that hung by a chain from the ceiling. she marked neither the knight nor the squire, who stood shading his eyes with his hand in order to see her the better. hot rage took possession of the heart of wendelin when he saw the tears rain down from the lady's large eyes onto her gown, which was already as wet as if she had just been drawn from the lake. when the knight noticed this, an overwhelming pity chased the anger from his heart, and george, who was a soft-hearted man, sobbed aloud at her pitiful appearance. the voice of the knight, too, was unsteady as he called to the fair prisoner that he was a german, wendelin by name, and that he had set out on a knightly quest to kill dragons, and to draw his sword for all who were oppressed. he had already conquered in many combats, and nothing would please him better than to fight for her. at this she ceased to weep, but she shook her head gently--her hair being chained impeded her motion,--and answered sadly. "my enemy is too powerful. you are young and beautiful, and the darling, perhaps, of a loving mother at home, i cannot bear that you should suffer the same fate as the others. behold that nut-tree over there! what seem to be white gourds hanging on its naked branches are their skulls! go your way quickly, for the evil spirit that keeps me prisoner, and will not release me until i have sworn an oath to become his wife, will soon return. his name is misdral, he is very fierce and mighty, and lives among the waste rocks over there on the north shore of the lake. you have my thanks for your good intention, and now proceed on your journey." the knight, however, did not follow her advice, but approached the beautiful woman without more words, and caught hold of her hair to unbind it from the ring. no sooner had he touched the emeralds than two brown snakes came hissing towards him. "oho!" exclaimed sir wendelin. with one hand he caught their two necks together in his powerful grip, with the other he grasped their tails, tore them in two, and threw them out onto the cliffs above the lake. when the imprisoned lady saw this, she heaved a deep sigh of relief and spoke: "now i believe that you will be able to liberate me. draw this ring from my finger!" the knight obeyed and as he touched the lady's fingers, which were slender and pointed, he felt his heart warm within him, and he would gladly have kissed her. but he only withdrew the ring. as he forced it onto the end of his own little finger the lady said to him: "whenever you turn it round you will be changed to a falcon; for you must know....but woe to us! there, where the water is lashed into foam, is the monster swimming towards us!" she had hardly finished before a hideous creature drew itself out of the lake. it looked as if it were covered with mouldering pumice-stone. two toads peeped from the cavities of the eyes, brown eel-grass hung dripping and disordered over its neck and forehead, and in place of teeth there were long iron spikes in its jaws which protruded and crossed one another over its lips. "a fine wooer, indeed!" thought the squire. "if the stone-clad fellow should not possess a vulnerable spot somewhere on his body i shall certainly lose my position!" similar thoughts passed through the knight's mind, and consequently he did not attack it with his sword, but lifting a huge piece of granite from the ground he hurled it at the monster's head. the creature only sneezed, and passed its hand over its eyes as if to brush away a fly. then it looked round and, perceiving the knight, bellowed aloud, and changed itself into a dragon spouting fire. herr wendelin rejoiced at this, for his favourite pastime was to kill that sort of beast. he had no sooner, however, plunged his good sword into a soft part of the monster, and seen the blood flow from the wound, than his opponent changed itself into a griffin, and raising itself from the ground swooped upon him. his defence now became more difficult, as the evil spirit continued to attack him in ever changing forms, but sir wendelin was no coward, and knew well how to use his arm and sword. at length, however, the knight began to feel that his strength was deserting him; his sword seemed to grow heavier and heavier in his hand, and his legs felt as if an hundredweight had been attached to them. his squire, noting his fatigue, grew faint, and began to think the best thing for him would be to ride off, for the fight was likely to end badly for his master. the knight's knees were trembling under him, and as the monster, in the form of a unicorn, charged against his shield he fell to the ground. the creature shrank suddenly together and in the guise of a black, agile rat shot towards him. sir wendelin felt that he was losing consciousness, he heard faintly a voice from the grotto where the lady was imprisoned calling to him: "the ring, remember the ring!" he was just able to turn with his thumb the ring on his little finger. immediately he felt himself lighter and freer than he had ever felt before, and his heart seemed to harden to a steel spring, while a gay and reckless mood came over him. a wild desire to fly took possession of him at the same time, and it seemed as if he were only fourteen years old once more. some strange force impelled him aloft into the air, to which he yielded, spreading the two large wings, that he suddenly found himself in possession of, as naturally as if he had used them all his life. he soon felt the feathers on his back stroked by the clouds, and yet he saw everything below him on the earth more distinctly than ever before. even the smallest things appeared perfectly clear to his sharpened eyes, and yet he seemed to see them as if reflected in a brilliant mirror. he could distinguish even the hairs on the rat and suddenly another impulse came over him--the impulse to stoop down and catch the long-tailed vermin in his beak and claws. wendelin had been changed into a falcon, and the rat struggled in vain to escape his powerful attack. the prisoner had followed the combat first with anxiety, then with joy. while the falcon held the rat in his claws and struck him with his beak again and again, she called the squire to her, and bade him free her from her chains. this was no distasteful task for george, indeed it gave him so much pleasure that he was in no hurry to finish. when at last all her bonds were loosened, she stood very erect, and lifted her arms, and each moment seemed to make her more lovely and more beautiful. then she grasped the circle of emeralds, about which the enchanter had wound her golden hair, and waving it high in the air, cried: "falcon, return to the shape you were before. misdral, hear thy sentence!" wendelin assumed immediately his knightly guise, which seemed very clumsy to him after having been a falcon. the rat lengthened itself and expanded until it was once more the giant covered with pumicestone; it walked no longer erect, however, but crawled along the ground at the feet of the beautiful woman, whimpering and howling like a whipped cur. she then said to it: "at last i possess the emerald circlet, in which resides your power over me. i can destroy you, but my name is clementine and so i will grant you mercy. i will only banish you to your rocks. there you shall remain until the last hour of the last day. papaluka, papaluka,--emerald, perform thy duty!" the giant of pumice-stone immediately glowed like molten iron. once he raised his clenched fist towards wendelin, and then plunged into the lake where the hissing and foaming waters closed over him. the lady and the knight were left alone together. when she asked him what reward he desired, he could only answer that he wished to have her for his wife, and to take her to his home in germany; but she blushed and answered sadly: "i may not leave this country, and it is not permitted to me to become the wife of any mortal man. but i know how heroes should be rewarded, and i offer you my lips to kiss." he knelt down before her and she took his head between her slim hands and pressed her mouth against his. george, the squire, saw this, sighed deeply, and wondered: "why was my father only a miller? what favours are granted to a knight like that! but i hope the kiss won't be the end of it all; for, unless she is a miserly fairy, there ought to be much more substantial pay for his services in store for him." but clementine bestowed even a richer reward than he had expected upon her rescuer. when she discovered that a lock of the brown hair on wendelin's left temple had turned grey during the conflict with the evil monster, she said to him: 'all this land shall belong to you henceforth, and because you have grown grey in your courageous fight with evil, you shall be known from this time forward as duke greylock. every prince, yea, even the emperor himself, will recognize the title which i confer upon you as my saviour, and when the race, of which you are to be the progenitor, is blessed with offspring, i will stand godmother to every first-born. all the sons of your house from first to last, whether they be dark or fair, or brown, shall bear the grey lock. it will be a sign unto your posterity that much good fortune awaits them. my authority, however, is limited, and if at any time a higher power should hinder me from exerting my influence in behalf of one of your grandsons, then will the grey lock be missing from his head, and it will depend altogether on himself how his life unfolds itself. one thing more. give me back my ring and take instead this mirror, which will always show to you and yours whatever you hold most dear, even when you are far away from it." "then it will ever be granted to me to bring your face before my eyes, oh! lovely lady!" the knight exclaimed. the fairy laughed and answered: "no, duke greylock--the mirror can only reflect the forms of mortals. i know a wife awaiting you, whom you will rather see than any picture in the glass, even were it that of a fairy. receive my thanks once more! you are duke, enter now into your dukedom!" with these words she disappeared. a gentle rustling and tinkling was heard through the air, the waste ground covered itself with fresh green, the dry river beds filled with clear running water, and on their banks appeared blooming meadows, shady groves and forests. the broken walls against the hillsides fitted themselves together, rose higher and supported once more the terraces covered with vine stocks and fruittrees. villages and cities grew into form and lay cradled in the landscape. beautiful gardens bloomed forth, full of gay flowers, olivetrees, orange-trees, citron, and fig, and pomegranate-trees, each covered with its golden fruit of many-seeded apples. in the neighbourhood of the grotto in which the fairy had been imprisoned a park of incomparable beauty grew into view, where brooks whispered and fountains played, and shady pergolas appeared, formed of gold and silver trellises, over which a thousand luxuriant creepers clambered, holding by their little tendril hands. the fallen columns stood up again, the mutilated marble statues found new noses and arms, and in the background of all this growing magnificence the young duke perceived-at first dimly, as if obscured by mists, then more distinctly-the outline of a palace with loggia, balconies, columned halls, and statues in bronze and marble around the cornice of its flat roof. george, the squire, gazed in openmouthed wonder, and his mouth remained open until he entered the fore-court of the palace. then he only closed it to give his jaws a little rest before their future labours began, for such a good smell from the kitchen greeted him that he ordered the willing cook to satisfy immediately the demands of his appetite, as his hunger was greater than his curiosity. sir wendelin continued his way through the passages, chambers, halls, and courts. everywhere servants, guards, and heyducks swarmed, and from the stables he heard the stamping of many horses, and the jingle of their halter chains as they rattled them against their well-filled mangers. choruses of trumpeters played inspiriting fanfares, and from the assembled people in the forecourt a thousand voices shouted again and again: "hail to his grace duke greylock, wendelin the first! long may he live!" the knight bowed graciously to his good people, and when the chancellor stepped forward, and after a deep reverence set forth in a carefully prepared speech the great services which the duke had rendered to the country, wendelin listened with polite attention, though he himself was quite ignorant of what the old man was talking about. sir wendelin had lived through so many adventures that it pleased him now to sit peacefully on his throne, and he did his best to be worthy of the honours which the fairy had conferred upon him. after he had learned the duties of a ruler from a to z, he returned to germany to woo his cousin walpurga. he led her back to his palace, and for many years they governed the beautiful land together. all of the five sons which his wife bore to him, came into the world with the grey lock. they all grew to be brave men and loyal subjects of their father, whom they served faithfully in war, holding fraternally together and greatly enlarging the boundaries of his dukedom by their prowess. a long time passed and generation after generation of the descendants of the worthy sir wendelin followed one another. the first-born son always bore the name of the progenitor of the family, and the fairy clementine always appeared at the baptism. no one ever saw her; but a gentle tinkling through the palace betrayed her presence, and when that ceased, the grey lock on the infant's temple was always found to have twisted itself into a curl. at the end of five hundred years, wendelin xv. was carried to his grave. no greylock had ever possessed a more luxuriant grey curl than his, and yet he had died young. the wise men of the land said that even to the most favoured only a fixed measure of happiness and good luck was granted, and that wendelin xv. had enjoyed his full share in the space of thirty years. certain it is that from childhood everything had prospered with this duke. his people had expected great things of him when he was only crown prince, and he did not disappoint them when he came to the throne. every one had loved him. under his leadership the army had marched from one victory to another. while he held the sceptre one abundant harvest followed another, and he had married the most beautiful and most virtuous daughter of the mightiest prince in the kingdom. in the midst of a hot conflict, and at the moment that his own army sent up a shout of victory, he met his death. everything that the heart of man could desire had been accorded to him, except the one joy of possessing a son and heir. but he had left the world in the hope that that wish, too, would be fulfilled. black banners floated from the battlements of the castle, the columns at its entrance were wreathed in crape, the gold state-coaches were painted black, and the manes and tails of the duke's horses bound with ribbons of the same sombre hue. the master of the hunt had the gaily-colored birds in the park dyed, the schoolmaster had the copy-books of the boys covered with black, the merry minstrels in the land sang only sad strains, and every subject wore mourning. when the ruby-red nose of the guardian of the court cellar gradually changed to a bluish tint during this time, the court marshal thought it only natural. even the babies were swaddled in black bands. and besides all this outward show, the hearts too were sad, and saddest of all was that of the young widowed duchess. she also had laid aside all bright colours, and went about in deepest mourning, only her eyes, despite the court orders in regard to sombre hues, were bright red from weeping. she would have wished to die that she might not be separated from her husband, save for a sweet, all-powerful hope which held her to this world; and the prospect of holy duties, like faint rays of sunshine, threw their light over her future, which would otherwise have seemed as dark as the habits of the court about her. thus five long months passed. on the first morning of the sixth month cannon thundered from the citadel of the capital. one salvo followed another, making the air tremble, but the firing did not waken the citizens, for not one of them had closed an eye the foregoing night, which, according to the oldest inhabitants, had been unprecedented. from the rocky district on the north shore of the lake, where misdral lived, a fearful thunder-storm had arisen, and spread over the city and ducal palace. there was a rolling and rumbling of thunder and howling of wind, such as might have heralded the day of judgment. the lightning had not, as usual, rent the darkness with long, jagged flashes, but had fallen to the ground as great fiery balls which, however, had set nothing aflame. the watchmen on the towers asserted that above the black clouds a silverwhite mist had floated, like a stream of milk over dark wool, and that in the midst of the rumbling and crashing of the thunder they had heard the sweet tones of harps. many of the burghers said that they too had heard it, and the ducal maker of musical instruments declared that the notes sounded as if they had come from a fine harpsichord--though not from one of the best--which some one had played between heaven and earth. as soon as the firing of cannon began, all the people ran into the streets, and the street-cleaners, who were sweeping up the tiles and broken bits of slate that the storm had torn from the roofs, leaned on their brooms and listened. the constable was using a great deal of powder; the time seemed long to the men and women who were counting the number of reports, and there seemed no end to the noise. sixty guns meant a princess, one hundred and one meant a prince. when the sixtyfirst was heard, there was great rejoicing, for then they knew that the duchess had borne a son; when, however, another shot followed the one hundred and first, a clever advocate suggested that perhaps there were two princesses. when one hundred and sixty-one guns had been fired, they said it might be a boy and a girl; when the one hundred and eightieth came, the schoolmaster, whose wife had presented him with seven daughters, exclaimed: "perhaps there are triplets, 'feminini generis!" but this supposition was confuted by the next shot. when the firing ceased after the two hundred and second gun, the people knew that their beloved duchess was the mother of twin boys. the city went crazy with joy. flags bearing the national colours were hoisted in place of the mourning banners. in the show-windows of the drapers' shops red, blue, and yellow stuffs were exhibited once more, and the courtiers smoothed the wrinkles out of their brows, and practised their smiles again. every one was delighted, with the exception of the astrologer, and a few old women and wise men, who drew long faces, and said that children born in such a night had undoubtedly come into the world under inauspicious signs. in the ducal palace itself the joy was not unclouded, and it was precisely the most faithful and devoted of the servants who seemed most depressed, and who held long conferences together. both of the boys were well formed and healthy, but the second-born lacked the grey curl which heretofore had never failed to mark each new-born greylock. pepe, the major-domo, who was a direct descendant of george, the squire, and who knew the history of the ducal family better than any one else, for he had learned it from his grandfather, was so dejected that one would have imagined a great misfortune had befallen him, and in the evenings, when he sat over his wine in company with the keeper of the cellar, the keeper of the plate and the decker of the table, he could not resist giving expression to his presentiments. his conviction that bad luck had knocked at the door of the hitherto fortunate greylocks was finally shared by his companions. that an unhappy future awaited the second boy was the firm belief, not only of the servants, but of the whole court. the unlucky horoscope cast by the astrologer was known to all, the wise men of the land confirmed it by their predictions, and soon it was proved that even the fairy clementine was powerless to avert the misfortune that threatened the youngest prince. on the day of the baptism, neither the gentle tinkling sound, nor the sweet perfume, which had heretofore announced her presence, were perceptible. that she had not deserted the ducal house altogether was shown by the fact that the lock on the temple of the first-born twined itself into a perfect curl. the lock on the left temple of the second son remained brown, and not a sign of grey could be discovered even with a magnifying glass. the heart of the young mother was filled with alarm, and she called the old nurse who had taken care of her dead husband when he was a baby, to ask her what had happened at his baptism, and the old woman burst into tears, and ended by betraying the gloomy forecasts of the astrologer and wise men. that a greylock should go through life without the white curl was unheard of, was awful! and the old nurse called the poor little creature, "an ill-starred child, a dear pitiable princeling." then the mother recalled her last dream, in which she had seen a dragon attack her youngest boy. a great fear possessed her heart, and she bade them bring the child to her. when they laid him naked before her, she stroked the little round body, the straight back, and well-shaped legs with her weak hands, and felt comforted. he was a beautifully-formed, well-developed child, her child, her very own, and nothing was lacking save the grey lock. she never wearied of looking at him; at last she leaned over him and whispered: "you sweet little darling, you are just as good, and just as much of a greylock as your brother. he will be duke, but that is no great piece of luck, and we will not begrudge it to him. his subjects will some day give him enough anxiety. he must grow to be a mighty man for their sakes, and i doubt not that his nurse gives him better nourishment to that end than i could who am only a weak woman. but you, you poor, dear, little ill-omened mite, i shall nourish you myself, and if your life is unhappy it shall not be because i have not done my best." when the chief priest came to her, to ask her what name she had chosen for the second boy--the first, of course, was to be wendelin xvi--she remembered her dream, and answered quickly: "let him be named george, for it was he who killed the dragon." the old man understood her meaning, and answered earnestly: "that is a good name for him." time passed, and both of the princes flourished. george was nourished by his own mother, wendelin by a hired nurse. they learned to babble and coo, then to walk and talk, for in this respect the sons of dukes with grey locks are just like other boys. and yet no two children are alike, and if any schoolmaster tried to write an exhaustive treatise on the subject of education, it would have to contain as many chapters as there are boys and girls in the world, and it would not be one of the thinnest books ever published. the ducal twins from the beginning exhibited great differences. wendelin's hair was straight and, save for the grey lock, which hung over his left temple like a mark of interrogation, jet black; george, on the contrary, had curly brown hair. their size remained equal until their seventh year, when the younger brother began to outstrip the older. they loved one another very fondly, but the amusements that pleased one failed to attract the other; even their eyes seemed to have been made on different patterns, for many things that seemed white to george appeared black to his brother. both received equal care and were never left alone. the older brother found this but natural, and he liked to lie still, and be fanned, or have the flies brushed away from him, and to have some one read fairy stories, which he loved, aloud to him until he dozed off to sleep. it was astonishing how long and how soundly he could sleep. the courtiers said that he was laying up a store of strength, to meet the demands that would be made upon him when he came to the throne. even before he could speak plainly, he had learned to let others wait upon him, and would never lift his little finger to do anything for himself. his passive face and large melancholy eyes were wonderfully beautiful, and inspired even his mother with a feeling of awe and respect. she never had cause to feel anxious about him, for there was no better, nor more obedient child in the whole land. the ill-omened boy, george, was the exact opposite of his brother. he, on the contrary, had to be watched and tended, for his veins seemed to run quicksilver. one would have been justified in saying that he went out to meet the misfortune which was so surely awaiting him. whenever it was possible he gave his nurses and attendants the slip. he planned dangerous games, and incited the children of the castle servants and gardeners to carry out the mischief which he had contrived. but his favorite pastime was building. sometimes he would erect houses of red stone, often he would dig great caves of many chambers and halls in the sand. at this work he was much more energetic than his humbler playfellows, and he would be dirty and dripping with perspiration when he returned to the castle. the courtiers would shake their heads over him in disapprobation, and then look approvingly at wendelin, who was a true royal child and never got his white hands dirty. there was no doubt but that george was cast in a less aristocratic mould than his brother. when wendelin complained of the heat, george would spring into the lake for a swim, and when wendelin was freezing, george would praise the fresh bracing air. the duchess often sighed for a thousand eyes that she might the better look after him, and she constantly had to scold and reprove him, whereas her other son never heard anything but soft words from her. but then george would fly into her arms in a most unprincely manner, and she would kiss him and hug him, as if she never wanted to let him go, while her caresses of her elder son were restricted to a kiss on his forehead, or to stroking his hair. george was by no means so beautiful as his brother; he had only a fresh boyish face, but his eyes were exceptionally deep and truthful, and his mother always found in them a perfect reflection of what was in her own heart. the two boys were as happy as is every child who grows up in the sunshine of its mother's love, but the lords and ladies about the court, and the castle-servants felt that misfortune had already begun to dog the footsteps of the younger prince. how constantly he was in disgrace with the duchess! and the accidents that had already happened in the eleven years of his life were too numerous to count. while bathing he had ventured too far out into the lake and had been nearly drowned; once, while riding in the ring, he had been thrown over the barriers by an unmanageable horse; indeed the court-physician was certain to be called from his night's rest at least once a month, to bind up bloody wounds in the young prince's bead, or bruises on his body. no one, save the seneschal of the royal household, and the master of ceremonies bore the unruly boy any malice, but every one pitied him as an ill-starred child. with what relentlessness his evil destiny pursued him was first made clear when a stone house, which he, together with some other boys, had built, fell down on top of him. when they drew him out from under the blocks and stones he was unconscious, and the major-domo, who had been attracted by the cries of george's companions, carried him into the prince's room, laid him on the bed, and watched by him until the physician was called. the old nurse, nonna, aided the majordomo, and these two faithful souls confided their anxiety to one another. they recalled the unlucky signs that had accompanied his entrance into the world, and pepe expressed his fear that the unfortunate child would not come to life again. "'tis very sad," he continued, "but i doubt not it would be better for the ducal family if heaven were now to remove him, for an early death is, after all, preferable to a long life of vexation and misery." the boy heard this conversation word for word, for, although he could move neither hand nor foot, and kept his eyes closed, his hearing and understanding were wide awake. old nonna had shed many tears during good pepe's speech, and he was trying to comfort her when george suddenly sat up, rubbed his eyes with the back of his hands, stretched himself, and then, agile as a brook trout, sprang out of bed. the two old people screamed in their astonishment, then laughed louder in their joy; but the court physician, who was just entering the room, looked very much disgusted and disappointed, for he saw the beautiful prospect of saving the life of one of the royal children dissolve before his very eyes. at the time of this accident the duchess was away from home. on her return she forced herself to reprove george for his recklessness before she yielded fully to her motherly affection. when george threw his arms around her neck and asked her if it were really true that he was an illstarred child, and would never have anything but bad luck as long as he lived, she nearly burst into tears. but she restrained herself, called pepe and nouna a couple of old geese, and the "signs," which they had talked about, stupid nonsense. then she left the room hurriedly and george thought that he heard her crying outside. he had gathered from her tone that she was not convinced of what she was saying, and was only trying to quiet his fears, and from that hour he, too, regarded himself as a child destined to adversity. this was indeed unfortunate, yet it had its compensation, for each morning he anticipated an unhappy day, and when in the evening he looked back on nothing but pleasure and sunshine, he went to bed with a heart full of gratitude for the good which he had enjoyed but which did not rightfully belong to him. from this time his mother had him more carefully guarded than before, she herself even followed him about anxiously, like a hen who has hatched a duckling, and forbade him to build any more stone-houses. the noble duchess was just then weighed down with other cares. one of her neighbors, a king, who had often been defeated in battle by her husband and her husband's father, thought it an excellent opportunity, while the duchy of the greylocks was ruled only by a woman and her councillors, to invade the land, and win back some of the provinces which he had formerly lost. moustache, her field-marshal, had led forth the army, and a battle was now imminent, which like all other battles, must end either in victory or defeat. one day a messenger came from the camp, bringing a letter from the brave marshal, who demanded more troops, saying that the enemy far out-numbered him. then the prime minister called the great council together, from which, of course, the duchess could not be absent, and during the time that she presided over the councillors' meeting, she lost sight of george for the first time for many weeks. the naughty boy was delighted. he slipped out of the castle, whence his older brother would not move, on account of the bad weather, went down to the shore of the lake, and finding that it was unusually rough, he, together with the son of the head-gondolier, sprang into a small boat, and drove it with powerful strokes out among the waves. the wind lifted the brown curls of the boy, and whenever a large wave bore the skiff aloft on its crest, he shouted with joy. hitherto he had only been allowed to go on the lake in a well manned, safe boat, and then the sailors were under orders to keep to the southern half of the lake. consequently an excursion on the water had seemed but a mild amusement; but to be his own master, and to fight thus untrammelled against the winds and waves was pleasure such as he had never before experienced. he had never yet visited the northern part of the lake, there where it was so dark, and mysterious, and where--as old nonna used to relate--evil spirits dwelt, and a giant covered with pumice-stone was compelled by a curse to live. perhaps, if he could only get to the other shore, he might see a ghost! that was a tempting prospect! so he turned the bow of the boat towards the north, and bidding his companion to row hard, did the same himself. as they got further north, the waves increased in size, a storm arose and blew fiercely in their faces; but the rougher the lake became, the gayer and more boisterous grew george's mood. his companion began to be afraid, and begged that they might return, but george, though it was not his custom, made his princely authority felt, and sternly commanded the boy to do as he was bid. all at once it became dark around them, and it seemed as if a powerful sea-horse must have got under the skiff and lifted it with his back, for george was hurled into the air. then he felt himself caught by a rushing whirlpool which sucked him in its circles to the bottom. he lost breath and consciousness. when he came to himself again, he found himself in a closed cave, amidst strange forms of grey-brown, dripping stalactites. above the arches of the roof he heard a loud, grunting laugh, and a voice, that sounded like the hoarse howl of a dog, cried several times: "here we have the wendelin brood! at last i have the greylock!" then george remembered all that he had overheard pepe and nonna relate, and all that he had coaxed out of them by his questions. he had fallen into the hands of the evil spirit, misdral, and now the real misfortune, which had threatened him ever since his birth, was to begin. he was freezing cold, and very hungry, and as he thought of the beautiful gardens at home, of the well-spread table in his father's castle, at which he used to sit so comfortably in his high-backed chair, and of the well-fed lackeys, he felt quite faint. he also realized what terrible anxiety his absence would cause his mother. he could see her running about, weeping, with her hair in disorder, seeking him every where. when he was smaller she had often taken him into her bed and played "little red riding hood" with him, and he said to himself that for that and many succeeding nights she would find no rest on her silken cushions, but would wet them with her tears. these recollections brought him to the verge of weeping, but the next instant he stamped his foot angrily, in rage against his weakness. he was only thirteen years old, but he was a true greylock, and fear and cowardice were as unknown to him as to his ancestor, wendelin i. so when he heard the voice of the wicked misdral again, and listened to the curses which it heaped upon his family, george's anger grew so hot that he picked up a stone, as the first wendelin had done five hundred years before, to hurl it in the monster's wrinkled face. but misdral did not show himself, and george had to give up the expectation of seeing him, for he gathered from the conversation between the two spirits that, owing to an oath which he had given to the fairy, misdral dared not lay hands on a wendelin, and that, therefore, he had planned to starve him (george) to death. this prospect seemed all the more dreadful to the boy because of his hunger at that moment. the cave was lighted by a hole in the roof of rocks, and as george could cry no more, and had raged enough against himself and the wicked misdral, there was nothing further for him to do but to look about his prison, and examine the stalactites which surrounded him on all sides. one of them looked like a pulpit, a second like a camel, a third made him laugh, for it had a face with a bottle-nose, like that of the chief wine cooper at the castle. on one of the columns he thought he discerned the figure of a weeping woman, and this made his eyes fill with tears again. but he did not mean to cry any more, so he turned his attention to the ceiling. some of the stalactites that hung from it looked like great icicles, and some of them looked like damp, grey clothes hung out to dry. this recalled the appearance of the wash hanging in the garden behind the palace--a long stocking, or an unusually large shirt descending below the rest of the clothes--and he remembered how, in the fall, after the harvest, the clothes-lines used to be tied to the plum-trees, and the ends decorated with branches still bearing the blue, juicy fruit, and then his hunger became so ravenous that he buckled his belt tighter round his waist and groaned aloud. night fell. the cave grew dark, and he tried to sleep, but could not, although the drops of water splashed soothingly, and monotonously from the roof into the pools below. the later it grew, the more he was tormented by his hunger, and the flapping of the bats, which he could not see in the dark. he longed for it to be morning, and more than once, in his great need, he lifted his hands and prayed for deliverance, and yet more passionately for a piece of bread, and the coming of day. then he sat lost in thought, and bit his nails, for the sake of having something to chew. he was aroused by a splash in one of the puddles on the hoor. it must be a fish! he sat up to listen, and it seemed as if some one called to him gently. he pricked up his ears sharply, and then!--no, he had not deceived himself, for the friendly words came distinctly from below: "george, my poor boy, are you awake?" how they comforted him, and how quickly he sprang up in answer to the question! at last he was saved. that was as certain to him as that twice two makes four, although it might have been otherwise. over the pool, from which the small voice had sounded, appeared now a dim light, a beautiful goldfish lifted its head out of the water, opened its round mouth, and said, in a scarcely audible tone,--for a real fish finds it difficult to speak, because it has no lungs,--that george's godmother, the fairy clementine, had sent it. its mistress was by no means pleased with george's disobedience; but, as he was otherwise a good boy, and she was pledged to aid the greylocks, she would help him out of his difficulty this time. the boy cried: "take me home take me home, take me to my mother!" "that would indeed be the simplest thing to do," replied the fish, "and it lies in our power to fulfil your wish; but, if my mistress frees you from the power of the wicked misdral, she must promise him in exchange that another ill shall befall your house. your army is in the field, and if you return to your family, then will the giant help your enemies; they will defeat you, will capture your capital, and possibly something evil might befall your mother." george sprang up and waved his hand in negation. then his curly head fell, and he said sadly, but decisively: "i will stay here and starve." the fish in his delight slapped the water with his tail until it splashed high, and continued, although his first speech had already made him hoarse: "no, no; it need not be so bad as that. if you are willing to go into the world as a poor boy, and never to tell any one that you are a prince, nor what your name is, nor whence you come, then no enemy will be able to do your army or the lady duchess any harm." "and shall i never see my mother and wendelin again?" george asked, and the tears poured down over his cheeks like the water over the stalactites. "oh yes!" the fish replied, "if you are courageous, and do something good and great, then you may return to your home." "something good and great," george repeated, "that will be very difficult; and, if i should succeed in doing something that i thought good and great, how could i know whether the fairy considered it so?" "whenever the grey lock grows on your head, you may declare yourself to be the son of a duke and go home;" the fish whispered. "follow me. i will light the way for you. it is lucky that you have run about so much and are so thin, otherwise you might stick fast on the way. now pay attention. this pool drains itself, through a passage under the mountain, into the lake. i shall swim in front of you until we come to the big basin into which the springs of these mountains empty their waters. after that i must keep to the right, in order to get back into the lake, but you must take the left passage, and let the current carry you along for an hour, when it will join the head of the great vitale river, and flow out into the open air. continue with the stream until it turns towards the east, then you must climb over the mountains, and keep ever northwards. hold your hand under my mouth that i may give you money for your journey." george did as he was bid, and the fish poured forty shining groschen into his hand. each one of them would pay for a day's nourishment and a night's lodging. the fish then dived under, george plunged after it into the pool, and followed the shimmering light that emanated from his scaly guide. sometimes the rocky passages, through which he crawled on his stomach in shallow water, became so small that he bumped his head, and had to press his shoulders together in order to pass, and often he thought that he would stick fast among the rocks, like a hatchet in a block of wood. he always managed to free himself, however, and finally reached the big basin, where a crowd of maidens with green hair and scaly tails were sporting, and they invited him to come and play tag with them. but the fish advised him not to stop with the idle hussies, and then parted from him. george was alone once more, and he let himself be borne along on the rushing subterranean stream. at length it poured out into the open air, as the vitale river, and the boy fell with it over a wall of rock into a large pool surrounded by thick greenery. there was a great splash, the trout were frightened to death, a dog began to bark, and a shepherd, who was sitting on the bank, sprang up, for the coloured bundle that had just shot over the falls, now arose from the water and bore the form of a pretty boy of thirteen years. this apparition soon stood before him, puffing, and dripping, and regarding, with greedy eyes, the bread and cheese which the old man was eating. the shepherd was very, very old, and deaf, but he understood the language of the boy's eyes, and as he had just milked the goats, he held out a cup of the milk to him with a friendly gesture, and broke off a piece of bread for him. then he invited george to sit down beside him in the sun, which had been up for an hour. the prince had never before eaten such a meal, but as he sat there in the sun, munching the bread, and drinking goats' milk, he would have thought any one a fool who called him an ill-fated child. after he had satisfied his hunger, he thanked the shepherd, and offered him one of the groschen which the fish had given him, but the old man refused it. george insisted, for it hurt his pride to take anything as a gift from a man clad in rags, but the shepherd still declined, and added, after he had noticed the fine clothes of the little prince, which the water had not entirely spoiled: "what the poor man gives gladly, no gold can repay. keep your groschen." george blushed scarlet, put his money in his pocket, and replied: "then may god reward you." the words sprang naturally and easily to his lips, and yet they were the very ones that the beggars in the duchy of the greylocks always used. he ran along by the side of the stream quite fast, in order to dry his clothes, until it was noon, and many thoughts passed through his mind, but so rapidly that he could hardly remember whether they were gay or sad. when at last he sat down to rest under a flowering elder bush, he thought of his mother, and of the great sorrow that he was causing her, of his brother, and norma, and old pepe, and his heart failed him, and he wept. he might never see them again, for how could he ever accomplish anything that was good and great, and yet the fish had demanded it of him! for three days he continued to be very dejected, and whenever he passed boys at play, or boys and maidens dancing and singing under the trees, he would say to himself: "you are happy, for you were not born under an evil star as i was." the first night he slept in a mill, the second in an inn, the third in a smithy. just as he was leaving in the early morning a horseman rode rapidly past, and called out to the smith, who was standing in front of the shop: "the battle is lost. the king is flying. the greylocks are marching on the capital." george laughed aloud, and the messenger hearing him, made a cut at him with his riding-whip, but missed him, and the boy ran away. george felt as if some one had removed the burden that had been weighing him down during his wanderings, and he reflected that, if he had remained a prince, and had been at that moment comfortably at home, instead of wandering until he was footsore along the highways, moustache, the field-marshal, would have lost the battle. it was still early when he reached the spot where the river turned to the east. from this point he was to go northwards. he found a path that led from the bank of the river, through the woods, across the mountain chain. the dew still hung on the grass, and above in the oaks and beeches, it seemed as if all the birds were holding high festival, there was such a fluttering, and calling, and chirping, and trilling, and singing, while the woodpecker beat time. the sunshine played among the branches, and fell through onto the flowery earth, where it lay among the shadows of the leaves like so many round pieces of gold. although george was climbing the mountain, his breath came freely, and all at once, without any reason, he burst into song. he sang a song at the top of his voice, there in the woods, that he had learned from the gardeners. at noon he thought he had reached the top of the mountain, but behind again a yet higher peak arose, and so, after he had eaten the bread and butter which the blacksmith's wife had given him, he continued his way and, as the sun was setting, attained the summit of the second mountain, which was the highest far and near. once more he beheld the river which, sparkling and bright, wound through the green plain like a silver snake. smaller hills covered with forests fell away on all sides and the tops of the trees caught the radiance of the sinking sun. over the snow-fields of the further mountain-ranges, a rosy shimmer spread that made him think of the peach blossoms at home; a purple mist obscured the rocky peaks behind him and there, far away to the south, was a tiny speck of blue. that might be his own dear lake, which he was never to see again. it was all so wonderfully beautiful and his heart filled to overflowing with memories and hopes. neither to the right nor to the left, whither he turned his eyes, were there any boundaries to be seen. how wide, how immeasurably wide was the world which, in the future, was to be his home, in the place of the small walled garden of the castle. two eagles were floating round in circles under the softly-glowing fleecy clouds, and george said to himself that he was as free and untrammelled on the earth as they were in the air; suddenly a feeling of delight in his liberty overcame him, he snatched his cap from his head and, waving it aloft, tore down the mountain, as if he were running for a wager. that night he found hospitable housing in the cell of a hermit. after this he derived much pleasure from his wanderings. he was a child born to bad luck--no denial could change that--nevertheless a child destined to good fortune could hardly have been more contented than he. on the thirtieth day of his journeying he met with a travelling companion in the lower countries, which he had reached some time before. this was a stone-mason's son, who was much older than george, but who accepted the gay young vagabond as his comrade. the youth was returning home after his wanderings as a journeyman and, as he soon discovered that george was a clever, trustworthy boy with all his wits about him, he persuaded him to offer himself as apprentice to the stone-mason, who was an excellent master in his business. his name was kraft, and he gladly received his son's companion as apprentice, george having spent his last groschen that very day, and thus the little prince was turned into a stone-mason's apprentice. in the castle of the greylocks, meanwhile, there was sorrow and lamentation. the boy who had ventured onto the lake with george, managed to save his life and returned home the following morning, and to repeated questionings he had only the one answer to make--that he had seen the prince drown before his very eyes. with this information the court had to content itself; but not the duchess, for a king will give up his throne sooner than a mother the hope of seeing her child again. she possessed indeed one means by which she could know beyond doubt whether her darling were alive or dead, namely the magic mirror which the fairy had given to the first wendelin, and in which, ever since, the greylocks had been able to see what they held most dear. in this glass she had seen her husband fall from his horse and die. once again she took it out of the ivory casket in which it was kept; but so long as george sat imprisoned in the cave of the evil spirit, nothing was to be seen on its smooth surface. that was ominous, yet she ceased not to hope, and thought: "if he were dead, i should see his corpse." she sat the whole night staring in the mirror. in the morning a messenger from the army of the greylocks arrived, bringing word that the enemy was pressing upon them and that a battle would have to be fought before the fresh troops, which moustache, the field-marshal, had asked for, could arrive. the issue was doubtful, and the duchess would better have everything ready for her flight and that of the princes, and, in case of the worst, to carry with her the crown jewels, the royal seal and a store of gold. the chancellor ordered all of these things to be packed in chests and warned the servants not to forget to add his dressing-gown. then he begged the noble widow to look into the glass and to let him know as soon as there was any reflection of the battle. presently she saw the two armies fall upon each other, but her longing to see her son overcame her immediately, and behold, there in the glass he appeared, seated by the side of an old ragged shepherd and eating bread and cheese, his clothes were soaked and there was no possibility of his changing them. this worried her and she at once pictured him with a cold or lying helpless in the open air, stricken down by fever or inflammation of the lungs. henceforth she thought no more about the decisive battle, and forgot all else during the hours that she sat and followed george's movements. then she sent for huntsmen, for messengers and for all the professors who studied geography, botany, or geology, and bade them look into the mirror, and asked them if they knew where those mountains were, of which they saw the reflection. the smooth surface showed only the immediate surroundings of the boy, and no one could tell what the district was where george wandered. thereupon she sent messengers towards all points of the compass to seek him. thus half the day passed, and when the chancellor came again in the afternoon to inquire after the fortunes of the battle, the duchess was frightened, for she had entirely forgotten the conflict. she therefore commanded the mirror to show her again the army and moustache, the field-marshal, who was a cousin of her late husband. she beheld with dismay that the ranks of her soldiers were wavering. the chancellor saw it, too; he put his hand to his narrow forehead and cried: "everything is lost! my office, your highness, and the land! i must to the treasury, to the stables! the enemy--flight--our brave soldiers--i pray your highness to keep a watch over the battle! more important duties. . . ." he withdrew, and when half an hour later he returned, very red in the face from all the orders that he had given, and looked over the duchess' shoulder, unperceived into the mirror, he started back and cried out angrily, as no true courtier ought ever to allow himself to do in the presence of his sovereign: "by the blood of my ancestors! a boy climbing a mountain. and there is such dire need to know . . ." the duchess sighed and called the battle once more into view. during the time that she had been watching her son, things had taken a better turn. this pleased her greatly, and the chancellor exclaimed: "did i not prophesy this to your highness. the circumstances were such that the victory was bound to be ours. brave moustache! i had such confidence in him that i saw the caravans bearing the treasure depart, without a pang of uneasiness. will your highness be good enough to have them recalled." after this the duchess had no further opportunity to see the reflection of her boy until the battle was decided and the victory theirs beyond a doubt; then she could use the mirror to gratify the desire of her heart. when george walked along dejectedly, she thought: "is that my heedless boy?" and when he looked about him gaily once more to see what mischief he could get into, she rejoiced, yet it troubled her, too, to have him appear so free from all grief, she feared that he might have entirely forgotten her. all the expeditions that she sent in search of him were fruitless; but she knew from the glass that he had become apprentice to a stone-mason and had hard work to do. this made her very sad. he was indeed a child born to misfortune, and when she saw him eat out of the same bowl with his companions, food so coarse, that her very dogs would have despised it, she felt that the misery into which he had fallen was too deep, too awful. yet, strange to relate, he always seemed gay, despite these ills, whereas wendelin, the heir to the throne, grew more peevish every day. the duchy of this fortunate youth had been enlarged by the late successful war, and the assembly of the states of the empire was debating whether it should not be made a kingdom. he possessed everything that it was in the power of man to desire, and yet, with each new month, he seemed to become more unhappy and dejected. when the heir to the throne drove out in his gilt coach and the duchess heard of the enthusiasm exhibited by the people, or saw him sitting at a feast of pheasants, smacking his lips and drawing the asparagus between his teeth, she reflected on his brother's hard lot and could not help feeling angry with her fortunate son for possessing all the gifts that destiny refused to her poor outcast george. once when the duchess looked in the mirror, she saw george who had carefully taken a clock to pieces, trying to put it together again. a moment later the chancellor and the master of ceremonies came up behind her in order to look into the glass also. no sooner had they done so than they set up a loud outcry, and behaved as if the enemy had invaded the land again. "the poor, miserable, pitiable, ill-starred princeling!" one of them exclaimed. "a greylock, it is unheard of, abominable, sacrilegious," the other moaned. they had indeed beheld a dreadful sight, for they had seen the son of wendelin xv. beaten over the back by a common workman with a stick. the duchess had to witness many similar outrages later when she saw george in the school to which the stone-mason sent his promising apprentice. alas! how long the poor child had to bend over his drawingboard and his slate doing dreadful sums, whereas wendelin only studied two hours a day under a considerate tutor who gently coaxed him along the paths of learning. everything that seemed difficult was carefully removed from his way, and everything that was unpalatable was coated with sugar before being presented to him. thus even in school the fortunate child trod a path strewn with roses without thorns, and if he yawned now and then in his tutor's face, the latter could flatter himself that the young prince yawned much more frequently over what other people considered pleasures and amusements. when he attained his sixteenth birthday, he was declared to be of age, for princes mature earlier than other men. soon afterwards he was crowned, not duke, but king, and it was remarked that he held his lace handkerchief oftener than ever to his mouth. the state prospered under his government; for his mother and councillors knew how to choose men who understood their work and did it well. these men acted as privy council to the king. one of them was put in charge of the army, a second of the executive, a third of the customs and taxes, a fourth of the schools, a fifth exercised the king's right of pardon, a sixth, who bore the title the chancellor of the council, was obliged to do the king's thinking. to this experienced man was also confided the responsibility of choosing a wife for the young king. he acquitted himself wonderfully well of this duty, for the princess whom wendelin xvi. espoused on his twentieth birthday, was the daughter of a powerful king, and so beautiful that it seemed as if the good god must have made a new mould in which to form her. no more regular features were to be seen in any collection of wax figures; the princess also possessed the art of keeping her face perfectly unmoved. if anything comic occurred, she smiled slightly, and where others would have wept, and thus distorted their features, she only let her eyelids fall. she was moreover very virtuous and, though but seventeen, was already called "learned." she never said anything silly, and also, no doubt out of modesty, refrained from expressing her wise thoughts. wendelin approved of her silence, for he did not like to talk; but his mother resented it. she would have liked to pour her heart out to her daughter-in-law, and to make her son's wife her friend and confidante. but such a relationship was impossible; for, when she tried to share with her daughter the emotions which crowded upon her, they rolled off the queen like water off the breast of a swan. the people adored the royal pair. they were both so beautiful, and looked so noble and princely as they leaned back in the corners of their gilt coach during their drives and gazed into vacancy, as if their interests were above those of ordinary mortals. years passed, and the choice of the chancellor of the council did not turn out to be so fortunate as had at first appeared, for the queen gave her husband no heir, and the house of greylock was threatened with the danger of dying out with wendelin xvi. this troubled the duchess indeed, but not so much as one would have supposed, for she knew that yet another greylock lived, and the mother's heart ceased not to hope that he would return one day, and hand down the name of her husband. she therefore persisted in sending messengers to those lands where, to judge by the costume of the people, the appearance of the country and buildings, as shown in the magic mirror, george was most likely to be found. once she allowed her daughter-in-law to look into the smooth glass with her; but never again, for it happened that the queen chanced upon a time when george, poorly dressed, and with great beads of perspiration on his forehead, sat hard at work over his drawing in a miserable room under the roof; her delicate nostrils sniffed the air disdainfully, as if afraid that they might be insulted by any odour of poverty, and she said coldly: "and you wish me to believe that person is a brother of my highbred husband? impossible!" after this the duchess permitted no one save old nonna to look into the glass; she, however, spent many hours each clay in following the miserable experiences of her unfortunate child. sometimes indeed it seemed to her as if a little happiness were mixed with the misery of his existence, and it also struck her that her little imp of a george was gradually growing to be a tall, distinguished-looking man with a noble forehead and flashing eyes, whereas wendelin, despite his beauty and his grey lock, had become fat and red in the face, and looked like a common farmer. great was her solicitude for him, and her heart bled when she saw him suffer, which was not seldom; but then, on the other hand, she often had to laugh with him and be merry, when he gave himself up to the strange illusion of being happy. and had she ever seen a face so beaming as his was when one day, in a splendid hall, a stately grey-haired man in a long gown embraced him and laid a laurel wreath on the design for a building, at which she had seen george work. and then he seemed to have gone to another country, and to be living in the midst of the direst poverty, yet somehow the world must have been turned upside down, for he was as lighthearted and gay as if dame fortune had poured the entire contents of her cornucopia over him. he lived in a little white-washed room, which was not even floored, but only paved with common tiles. in the evening he ate nothing save a piece of bread, with some goat-cheese and figs, and quenched his thirst with a draught of muddy wine which he diluted with water. a squalid old woman brought him this wretched supper, and it cut the duchess to the heart to see him hunt about for coppers enough to pay for it. one day he seemed to have exhausted his store, for he turned his purse upside down and shook it, but not the smallest coin fell out. this grieved her sorely, and she wept bitterly, thinking of the ease of her other son, and resenting the injustice with which blind and cruel fortune had bestowed her gifts. when she had dried her eyes sufficiently to be able to see the picture in the mirror once more, she beheld a long low house by the side of which there was a large space roofed over with lattice work. this was covered by a luxuriant growth of fig-branches and grape-vine. the moon shed its silver radiance over the leaves and stems, while beneath it a fire cast its golden and purple lights on the house, the trellis roof, and the gay folk supping under it. young men in strange garb sat at the small tables. their faces were wonderfully animated and gay. before each one stood a long-necked bottle wound with straw, cups were filled, emptied, waved aloft or clinked. with every moment the eyes of the drinkers grew brighter, their gestures freer and more lively; finally one of them sprang up on a table, he was the handsomest of them all,--her own george, and he looked as if he were in paradise instead of on this earth, and had been blessed by a sight of god and his heavenly host. he spoke and spoke, while the others listened without moving until he raised a large goblet and took such a long draught that the duchess was frightened. then what a wild shout the others sent up! they jumped to their feet, as if possessed, and one of them tossed his cup through the lattice work and vines overhead. when george got down again, young and old surrounded him, a few of them embraced him, and then the whole gay company began to sing. later the duchess saw her son whirling madly in the dance with a girl dressed in many colours, who, though beautiful, was undoubtedly only the daughter of a swineherd, for she was barefoot, and kiss her red lips--which indeed no greylock ought to have done, yet his mother did not begrudge him the amusement. it looked as if that were happiness, but true happiness it could not be, for such was not granted to a child born to misfortune. yet what else could it be? at any rate, he had the appearance of being the most blessed of mortals. he was in italy; of that she became more and more assured, and yet none of her messengers could find him. a year later, however, her son began to busy himself with matters that would certainly give some clue to her more recent envoys. george had left his poverty-stricken room and dwelt now in a handsome vaulted chamber. each day dressed in a fine robe and with a roll of parchment in his hand, he superintended a great number of builders. often she saw him standing on such high scaffolding that he seemed to be perched between heaven and earth, and she would be overcome by giddiness, though he seemed proof against it. once in a while a tall princely-looking man, with a beautiful young woman and a train of courtiers and servants, came to inspect the building. george would be sent for to show the gentleman and the young woman, who seemed to be his daughter, the plans, and they had long conversations together. at these interviews george was not at all servile; and his gestures were so manly and graceful, his eyes shone so frankly, yet so sweetly and modestly, that his mother yearned to draw him to her heart and kiss him; but that, alas! could not be, and little by little it dawned upon her that he longed for other lips than hers, for the glances that he bestowed upon the maiden bespoke his admiration, which, the duchess noticed, did not seem to displease her. once, during an interview with george, she dropped a rose, and when he picked it up, she must have allowed him to keep it, for she gave no sign of disapproval when he kissed it and hid it inside the breast of his doublet. the large architectural drawing had screened this little comedy from curious eyes. one evening, in the moonlight, the duchess saw him climb a garden wall, with a lute in his hand, then the sky became overcast, and she could distinguish him no more; she could only see a lighted window where a beautiful girl was standing. the maiden charmed her beyond measure, and she grew hot and cold with the pleasurable anticipation that george might win her for his wife some day and bring her home. but then she reflected that he was a child born to ill-luck, and as such would never be blessed with the love of so exquisite a creature. what she saw in the next few weeks confirmed this opinion. his manner was usually decisive, abrupt and self-reliant, but now he seemed to her like a clock that points to one hour while it strikes another. at the works he gave his orders as firmly and decidedly as ever; but as soon as he was alone, he looked like a criminal sentenced to death, and either sat bowed down and miserable or else paced up and down the floor restlessly, gesticulating wildly. often when he beat his forehead with the palm of his hand or struck his breast with his fist, his mother was frightened. once, after a garden party, where he had been fortunate enough to walk alone for a full hour under a shady pergola with the daughter of the gentleman who owned the building in progress, and to kiss her hand many times, he burst into tears as soon as he was in his own room, and behaved so wildly that his mother feared for his reason and wept bitterly also. just at this time she ought to have felt nothing but joy, joy, heart-felt and unadulterated, for it appeared that the chief of the councillors had in truth been more far-sighted, than other people and had not made a mistake in his choice of a queen, for she had just borne a son, and, moreover, one that was a true greylock. his grey lock was indeed somewhat thin and lacked the firm curl of the former ones; but every one who was not colour-blind must acknowledge that it was grey. the duchess would have liked to rejoice sincerely in her grandchild, but her affections were divided, and even when she held it in her arms, she yearned for the magic glass and a sight of her unlucky son. wendelin xvi., who had long been satiated with the pleasures which his position offered him, finding them all flat and insipid, experienced for the first time in twelve years a sensation of delight, like any one else, when he heard the faint cry of the infant and learned the good news that his child was a son. hitherto his greatest satisfaction had been to hear the clock strike five when he had imagined that it was only four. the child, however, was something entirely new, and his heart, which usually beat as slowly as a clock that is running down, quickened its pulsations whenever he thought of his son. during the first weeks of its life he sat for hours at a time beside the gilt cradle, staring thoughtfully through his eye-glass at the future wendelin xvii. soon this occupation ceased to interest him, and he drifted along once more on the sluggish waves of his former existence, from minute to minute, from hour to hour. the queen, his companion on this placid journey, had grown to be like him in many ways. the two yawned as other people breathe. they knew no desires, for as everything they possessed was always the best that could be had, to-morrow could give them nothing better than to-day. their life was like a long poplar alley through which they wandered lazily side by side. pepe, the major-domo, after wendelin came to the throne, was made bodyservant to the king; he, above all others, was inclined to regard his master, born under a lucky star and possessing everything that one could desire, as a person favoured by fortune; yet, after he had listened to his sighs and murmurs through many a quiet night, he reflected: "i am better off in my own shoes." pepe kept his own counsel and confided to no one save old nonna what he knew. she, too, had learned to be discreet and consequently did not repeat his confidences even to the duchess, who had enough to bear without that additional burden. how pale her darling seemed to her when she saw him in the glass! yet, even on the worst days, he was busy at his place in the piazza, where the cathedral, which he had been building for three years, was nearing completion. the greatest energy at that moment was being expended on the dome, which rose proudly over the crossing of the nave and transepts. whenever nonna looked over the duchess' shoulder to get a glimpse of george, he was always seen there so long as the sun was in the heavens. many times the hearts of the two women stood still when they saw him climb to the highest point of the scaffolding in order to direct the work from there. fate had only to make his foot slip one little inch or decree that a wasp should sting him on the finger to put an end to his existence. the poor mother was doubly anxious because he seemed so unconscious of the risk he ran up there and looked about him even more boldly and self-reliantly than usual. the dome was already perfectly round. why wasn't it finished, and why must he go on climbing again and again that frightful scaffolding? "nonna, nonna, you must look, i can stand it no longer," she cried one day after she had been regarding the glass for a long time. "hold me--he is going to jump. nonna, is he safe? i can no longer see." and the glass shook in her hand. "oh!" the old woman answered, heaving a sigh of relief, "there he stands as solidly and firmly as the statue of wendelin i. in the market-place. see. . . ." "yes, yes, there he is," the duchess cried and fell on her knees to thank heaven. the nurse continued to look in the glass. suddenly she shrieked aloud and her mistress sank together and covered her face with her hands. "has he fallen? is he dead?" she groaned. but nonna, despite her gout, sprang up and ran to her mistress with the mirror in her hand and stammering, half laughing and half crying, like one drunk yet possessed of his senses: "george, our george, look. our prince has the grey lock. here, before my very eyes i saw it grow." the duchess jumped up, cast one glance into the glass, saw the grey lock distinctly, and then forgetting that she was a princess and nonna but a humble servant, threw her arms about her and kissed her on the mouth, above which grew so luxuriant a moustache that many a page would gladly have exchanged his young upper lip for her older one. then the duchess reached once more for the mirror to assure herself that her eyes had not been deceived, but her fingers trembled so with excitement that the glass slipped from her hand and fell to the floor where it broke in a thousand pieces. what a fright it gave them! fortunately nonna, after a lifetime spent in the care of babies, had laid aside what we call nerves, else she had certainly fallen in a swoon like her mistress; she was consequently able to support the duchess and soothe her with gentle words. in the meanwhile the young architect from the staging inspected the stone which crowned the dome and found that it had been well set. but he had no suspicion that the grey lock had grown on his head. older architects came and absorbed his attention. they pressed his hand, praised him and said that he had just finished a marvellous work of art. they examined, with him, the interior of the cathedral, and then appeared the prince for whom george had built the church, and to him the architects explained how solid and well proportioned was the dome which had been finished a few hours before. the noble prince listened with comprehension; after he was satisfied he drew george to his breast and said: "i thank, you my friend. despite your youth i entrusted you with a great undertaking and you have more than fulfilled my most sanguine expectations. at my age we count it gain not to be disappointed, and the day when our expectations are not only fulfilled, but surpassed we number among our festivals. your work will be an ornament to the city and state, and will insure you undying fame. take this from a man who wishes you well." the prince took the golden chain from his own neck, hung it about george's, and continued: "art is easy, some say; others, that it is difficult. both are right. it must be delightful and ennobling to design such a work but the carrying out must be laborious and attended with many perplexities. i can see that you have found it so, for only yesterday i remarked with pleasure the youthful glint of your brown hair and today,--no doubt while you were superintending the laying of the dome's crown,--a lock of hair above your left temple has turned grey, master peregrinus." george reeled at this sudden and unexpected fulfilment of the dearest wish of his soul. he had gone out into the world under this name of peregrinus and had never betrayed the fact that he was a prince's son. for several years his heart had been overflowing with love for the daughter of the prince and he had known that she reciprocated his affection sincerely, yet for the sake of his own family he had battled bravely with his passion and had borne his heartache and longing in silence. proofs had not been wanting to show hint how devoted the prince was to him, and if he had been able to say to his patron, "i am a greylock," no doubt his lord would gladly have accorded his daughter's hand to him. george had repeated this to himself a thousand times, but he had remained firm, had kept his counsel and had not ceased to hope that by righteous energy and industry he might accomplish the "great and good task" which had been required of him in misdral's cave. when his grey lock grew, the fairy clementine's fish had said to him, then would he know that he had achieved something great and good, and that he might bear once more the name of his proud race and return home without exposing his family to any danger. he had reached the goal, the task was completed, he might call himself a greylock once more, for the curl which was the pride of his race now adorned his head too. "the prince watched him turn very red then very pale and finally said inquiringly "well, my peregrinus?" the architect fell upon his knee, kissed the prince's hand and cried: "i am not peregrinus. henceforth i am a greylock, i am george, the second son of the duke wendelin, of whom you have heard, and i must confess to you, my noble lord, that i love your daughter speranza, and i would not exchange places with any god if you would but give us your blessing." "a greylock!" the prince exclaimed. "truly, truly this day should not be reckoned among the feast-days but should be regarded as the best day in all the year. come to my arms, my dear, my worthy son!" an hour later the architect held the princess in his arms. what a wedding they had! george did not return immediately to his own home. he wrote to his mother that he was alive and well and intended to visit her in company with his young bride as soon as he had finished a great work with which he was occupied. he sent with the letter a portrait of his wife and when the duchess saw it and read the letter she grew ten years younger from pure delight, and old nonna at least five. when wendelin xvi. was informed that his brother still lived, he smiled and the queen followed his example, but as soon as they were alone she cried: "the land of the greylocks will be smaller than ever now and even before it was not so great as my father's." when speranza presented her husband with a son the duchess and her faithful attendant nonna went to italy, and the meeting between mother and son was beyond all measure joyful. two months she spent with her dear children and then she returned home, george and his wife having promised to visit her the following year in the capital of the greylocks. the cathedral was finished. there was no finer building under the sun and artists and connoisseurs flocked from all parts of the world to see it. george received the commendations of the most critical and his name was ranked among those of the greatest architects. proud of his work, yet ever modest, he together with his wife and child returned to his home. he found great rejoicings in progress when he crossed the frontiers, for moustache, the field-marshal, had just conquered another enemy, and by the conditions of the treaty of peace another province came into the possession of the greylocks, making their kingdom then as large as that of the queen's father. when george entered the capital he found flags flying, heard bells pealing, the explosions of mortars and firing of cannon, sometimes one shot after another, sometimes a deafening salvo of many guns together, and a thousand voices shouting "hurrah, hurrah! long live wendelin the lucky!" the assembly of states had decided the day before that the king by whom the land had been so wonderfully extended, and whose government had been so prosperous that not even a shadow of misfortune had fallen across it, should be called: "wendelin the lucky." this title of honour was to be seen on all the flags, triumphal arches, transparencies, and even on the ginger-bread cakes in the cook-shops. george and his lovely wife rejoiced with the other jubilant people, but they were happiest when they were alone with his mother. wendelin xvi. received his brother and his brother's wife in the great reception room, and even went further forward to meet him than the point prescribed by the master of ceremonies; the queen made good this violation of etiquette by remaining herself well within the boundaries laid down. after the feast wendelin went with his brother onto the balcony, and as he stood opposite to george and looked at him more closely he let his languid eyelids droop, for it seemed to him that his brother was a man of iron, and he suddenly felt as if his own backbone were made of dough. in the evening the lake was beautifully illuminated, and the day was to end with a boating party on the water enlivened with music and fireworks. in the first boat, on cushions of velvet and ermine, sat wendelin xvi. and his queen, in the second george and his beloved wife. his mother could not bear to be separated from these two, or to miss for even an hour the happiness of having them with her. the weather for the festivals was as perfect as they could have wished. the full moon shone more brilliantly than usual, as if to congratulate the king on his new title, the bells pealed forth their chimes again, a chorus of maidens and boys in skiffs followed the state gondola of the royal pair, singing the new song which had just been composed in their honour, and which consisted of twenty-four stanzas, each one ending with the lines: "the luck and glory let us sing of lucky wendelin, our king!" by his side sat his wife, who continued her complaints against the newlyfound brother, and urged her husband to make investigations as to whether or not this architect were a true greylock, "to be sure, both he and his son have the grey lock," she said, "but then they both have light hair, and the barber's craft has made great strides lately; and certainly that fat-cheeked baby looks as if it belonged in the cradle of a peasant rather than in that of a prince." wendelin xvi did not listen to what she said; his heart was very heavy, and every time one of the bells rang out above the others, or the chorus sang, "lucky wendelin, our king," particularly distinctly and enthusiastically, he felt as if he were being jeered at and ridiculed. he longed to cry aloud in his shame and pain, and to fly for comfort to his sympathetic mother and strong brother in the other boat. when he stared into the water it seemed as if the fish made fun of him, and if he looked at the sky he imagined the moon made a mocking grimace at him, and looked down scornfully at the wretched man whom they called "fortunate." he knew not where to gaze, he withdrew within himself, and tried to shut his ears, while he wished to heaven that he could change places with the active sailor opposite who was setting the purple sail with his brawny arms. a light breeze wafted the royal gondola towards the island where the fireworks were to be displayed. the second boat followed at a short distance. george held his mother's hand and his wife's in his own, few words were spoken, but their very silence betrayed the great treasure of their love and happiness, and spoke more plainly than long discourses how dear these three persons were to one another. the royal gondola floated quietly past the cliff that separated the southern from the northern part of the lake; no sooner had the second boat approached it, however, than an unexpected and fearful gust of wind blew suddenly from the clefts of the rocks and struck the boat, and before the sailors had time to lower the sail threw it onto its beam ends. george sprang forward instantly to help the sailors right her, but a second gust tore away the flapping sail, and capsized the gondola, which was caught and carried to the bottom by a rushing eddy. both of the women rose from the waves at george's side. he grasped his mother, and struggled bravely against the wind and current until he laid her on the beach at the foot of the cliff. then he swam back as rapidly as he could to the place of the accident. his mother was safe, but his wife, his beloved, his all? to rescue her, or to drown with her was his sole idea. at that moment he perceived a long golden streak rising and falling with the waves. it was a lock of her hair, her wonderful silken hair. with mighty strokes he sped towards it, reached it, grasped it, then his trembling hands felt her body and lifted her up. she breathed, she lived, and it depended on him to save her from the evil spirit, from death. with one arm he held her to him, with the other he parted the waters; but the lake seemed to turn to a mighty torrent that bore down upon him with its heavy waves. he struggled, he fought with panting breast, yet in vain, always in vain. he felt that his strength was being exhausted. if no one came to his aid, he was lost; he raised his head to look for help. he saw his brother's gondola sailing as peacefully and undisturbed from storm or accident as a swan in the moonlight, and the bitter thought passed through his mind, that wendelin was the lucky one, and that he had been born to misfortune. his arm was struggling with the tide once more, and this time more successfully. then speranza opened her eyes, recognized him, and, kissing him on the forehead, murmured: "my own love, how good you are!" from the cliff the duchess called to him: "george, my best, my only son!" his heart warmed within him, all his bitterness disappeared, and the waves seemed to rock him and the burden in his arms as in a cradle. the picture of his mother floated before his vision, that of his child, and of his beautiful work, the great indestructible cathedral, which he had erected to the honour of god. he reflected what sweet joy each new spring had brought him, how he had been blessed in his work, what exquisite delight he derived from all that was beautiful in the world. no, no, no. of all the men on this earth, he, the child destined to misfortune, was the happiest. overwhelmed by a feeling of gratitude, he returned his wife's kiss. saved! she was saved! he felt firm ground beneath his feet; he lifted her on high; but, just as he laid her in the strong arms that reached down from the cliff to receive her, a high wave caught him and dragged him back into the deep, and the waters closed over him. the next morning a fisherman found his body. george's wife and mother were saved. the wise men of the land said that the ill-starred child had perished, as they had foreseen, and the people echoed their words. in the mausoleum of the greylocks only two places remained empty, and these had to be kept for wendelin the lucky and his queen, consequently the ill-omened son might not even rest in the grave of his fathers, and george was buried on a green hillside, whence there was a beautiful view of the lake and distant landscape. king wendelin the lucky and his wife lived to a good old age. after the king became childish, he ceased to groan and whimper in the night, as he had formerly done. when he died, he was interred next to queen isabella, in the coldest corner of the marble mausoleum, and no ray of sun ever rested on his stone sarcophagus. his son, wendelin xvii., visited his father's grave once a year, on all saints' day, and laid a dry wreath of immortelles on the lid of the coffin. george's resting-place was surrounded by bushes and flowers. his mother and wife and child visited it and cared for it. when the spring came, nightingales, redbreasts, finches and thrushes without number sang their merry notes above the head of the unfortunate one who lay there. his son george grew to be the pride of his mother, and became a noble prince in beautiful italy. centuries have passed since then, yet to-day enthusiastic artists still make pilgrimages to the hillside where the sun shines so brightly, to lay wreaths on the grave of the great architect george peregrinus of the princely house of the greylocks. they at least do not regard him who lies there as one born to misfortune. etext editor's bookmarks: at my age we count it gain not to be disappointed had laid aside what we call nerves like a clock that points to one hour while it strikes another to-morrow could give them nothing better than to-day this ebook was produced by david widger <widger@cecomet.net> [note: there is a short list of bookmarks, or pointers, at the end of the file for those who may wish to sample the author's ideas before making an entire meal of them. d.w.] the emperor, part 2. by georg ebers volume 10. chapter xviii. selene and helios were baptized, and two days after dame hannah with her adopted children and mary, escorted by the presbyter hilarion and a deacon, embarked in the harbor of mareotis on board a nile-boat which was to convey them to their new home, the town of besa in upper egypt. the deformed girl had hesitated as to her answer to the widow's question whether she would accompany her. her old mother dwelt in alexandria, and then--but it was this "then" which helped her abruptly to cut short all reflection and to pronounce a decided "yes," for it referred to antinous. for a few minutes it had seemed unendurable to think that she should never see him again, for she could not help often thinking of the beautiful youth, and her whole heart ought to belong solely to the one who had with his blood purchased peace for her on earth and bliss in the world to come. the day after being baptized, selene had gone to paulina's town-house, and there, with many tears had taken leave of arsinoe. all the affection which bound the sisters together found expression at this moment of parting. selene had heard from paulina that pollux was dead, and she no longer grudged her rival sister that she grieved for him more passionately than herself, though at first her peace of mind had more than once been disturbed by memories of her old playfellow. she felt it hard to leave alexandria, where most of her brothers and sisters were left behind, and yet she rejoiced to think of a distant home, for she was no longer the same creature that she had been a few months since, and she longed for a remote scene of a new and sanctified life. eumenes and hannah were in the right. it was not the widow but the little blind boy who had won her to christianity. the child's influence had proceeded in a strange course. in the first instance the promises of the slave master that helios should some day meet his father again in a shining realm among beautiful angels had a powerful effect on the blind child's tender heart and vivid imagination. in hannah's house his hopes had received fresh nurture, and mary and the widow told him much about their kind and loving god and his son who loved children and had invited them to come to him. when selene began to recover and he was permitted to talk to her he poured out to her all his delight at what he had heard from the women. at first, to be sure, his sister took no pleasure in these fanciful fables and tried to shake his belief and lead back his heart to the old gods. but while she tried to guide the child, by degrees she felt compelled to follow in his path; at first with wavering steps, but dame hannah helped her by her example and with many words of good counsel. she only taught her doctrine when the girl asked her questions and begged for information. all that here surrounded selene breathed of love and peace, and the child felt this, spoke of it, forced her to acknowledge it, and, in his own person, was the first object on which to exercise a wish hitherto unknown to her, to be herself loving and lovable. the boy's firm faith, which was not to be shaken by any reasoning or by any of the myths which she knew, touched her deeply and led to her asking hannah what was the real bearing of one and another of his statements. it had always seemed a comfort to her that the miseries of our earthly life would come to an end with death; but helios left her without a reply when he said in a sad voice: "do you feel no longing, then, to see our father and mother again?" to see her mother again! this thought gave her an interest in the next world, and dame hannah fanned the spark of hope in her soul into flame. selene had seen and suffered much misery, and was accustomed to call the gods cruel. helios told her that god and the saviour were good and kind, and loved human beings as their children. "is it not good and kind," asked he, "of our heavenly father to lead us to dame hannah?" "yes, but we have all been torn apart," said selene. "never mind," said the child confidently, "we shall all meet in heaven." as she got well selene asked after each of the children and hannah described all the families into which they had been received. the widow did not look as if she spoke falsely, and the little ones, when they came to see her, confirmed her report, and yet selene could hardly believe in the accuracy of the pictures drawn of their lives in the houses of the christians. the mother of a christian family--says a great christian teacher--should be the pride of her children, the wife the pride of her husband, husband and children the pride of the wife, and god the pride and glory of every member of the household. love and faith in fact the bond, contentment and virtuous living the law of the family; and it was in just such a pure and beneficent atmosphere, as selene herself and helios felt the blessing of in hannah's house, that each and all of her brothers and sisters were growing up. her upright sense gave an honest answer when she asked herself what would have become of them all if her father had remained alive and had been dispossessed of his office? they must all have perished in misery and degradation. and now?--perhaps in truth the divine being had dealt in kindness with the children. love, love, and again love, was breathed from all she saw and heard, and yet--was it not love that had caused her greatest sorrows. wherefore had it been her lot to endure so much through the same sentiment which beautified life to others? had any one ever had more to suffer than she? aye indeed! a vivacious, eager youth had duped her and had promised happiness to her sister instead of to her; it had been hard to bear--and yet, the saviour of whom hellos had told her, had been far more severely tried. mankind, for whom he--the son of god--had come down upon earth, to save from misery and guilt, had rewarded his loving kindness by hanging him on the cross. in him she could see a companion in suffering and she asked the widow to tell her all about him. selene had made many sacrifices to her family--she could never forget her walk to the papyrusfactory--but he had let them mock him and had shed his blood for his own. and who was she?--and who was he? the son of god. his image became dear to her; she was never weary of hearing about his life and fate, his words and deeds; and without her observing it the day came when her soul was free to receive the teaching of christ with fervent longing. with faith she acquired that consciousness of guilt which had previously been unknown to her. she had been busy and industrious out of pride and fear, but never from love; she had selfishly tried to fling from her the sacred gift of life without ever thinking what would become of those whom it was her duty to care for. she had cursed her lovely sister who needed her protection and care, and even pollux, her childhood's playfellow; and a thousand times had she imprecated the ruler of human destinies. all this she now keenly felt with all the earnestness natural to her, but she was soothed by the tidings that there was one who had redeemed the world, and taken on himself the sins of every repentant sinner. after selene had once expressed to the widow her desire to be a christian, hannah brought the bishop to see her. he himself undertook to instruct the girl and he found in her a disciple anxious and craving for knowledge. just like those dried-up and dull-colored plants which, when they are plunged in water, open out and revive, so did her heart, untimely withered and dry; and she longed to be perfectly recovered that she, like hannah, might tend the sick and exercise that love which christ demands of his followers. that which most particularly appealed to her in her new faith was that it did not promise joys to the rich who could make great sacrifices, but to the miserable sinner who with a contrite heart yearned for forgiveness, to the poor and abject, towards whom she felt as though they belonged to the same family as herself. and her valiant spirit could not be satisfied with intentions but longed to act upon them. in besa she could set to work with hannah, and this prospect lightened her grief in quitting alexandria. a favoring wind bore the voyagers southward safe to their destination. two days after their departure antinous once more stole into paulina's garden. he went up to the widow's little house looking in vain for the deformed girl; the road was open; her absence could but be pleasing to him, and yet it disquieted him. his heart beat wildly, for to-day-perhaps he might find selene alone. he opened the door without knocking, but he dared not cross the threshold, for in the anteroom stood a strange man, placing boards against the wall. the carpenter, a christian to whom paulina had given this little house for his family to live in, asked antinous what he wanted. "is dame hannah at home?" stammered the bithynian. "she no longer lives here." "and her adopted daughter, selene?" "she is gone with her into upper egypt. have you any message for her?" "no," said the lad, quite confounded. "when did they go?" "the day before yesterday." "and they are not coming back." "for the next few years, certainly not. later may be, if it is the lord's pleasure." antinous left the garden by the public gate, unmolested. he was very pale, and he felt like a wanderer in the desert who finds the spring choked where he had hoped to find a refreshing draught. next day, at the first moment he could dispose of, antinous again knocked at the carpenter's door to inquire in what town of upper egypt the travellers proposed to settle and the artisan told him frankly, "in besa." antinous had always been a dreamer, but hadrian had never seen him so listless, so vaguely brooding as in these days. when he tried to rouse him and spur him to greater energy his favorite would look at him beseechingly, and though he made every effort to be of use to him and to show him a cheerful countenance it was always with but brief success. even on the hunting excursions into the libyan desert which the emperor frequently made, antinous remained apathetic and indifferent to the pleasures of the sport to which he had formerly devoted himself with enjoyment and skill. the emperor had remained in alexandria longer than in any other place, and was weary of festivities and banquets, of the wordy war with the philosophers of the museum, of conversing with the ecstatic mystics, the soothsayers; astrologers and empirics with whom the place swarmed. and the short audiences which he accorded to the heads of the different religious communities, and the inspection of the factories and workshops of this centre of industry, began to annoy him. one day he announced his intention of visiting the southern provinces of the nile valley. the high-priests of the native egyptian faith had craved this favor of him, and he was prompted, not only by his love of information and passion for travelling, but also by considerations of state-craft, to gratify this desire of a hierarchy which was extremely influential in those rich and important provinces. the prospect of seeing with his own eyes those marvels of pharaonic times which attracted so many travellers, was also an incitement, and his good spirits rose as soon as he observed what a reviving effect his determination to visit southern egypt had upon antinous. his favorite had for the last few weeks expressed not the smallest pleasure at any single thing. the homage paid him no less by the alexandrian than by the roman ladies of rank sickened him. at banquets he sat a silent guest whose neighborhood could not add to anybody's pleasure, and even the most brilliant and exciting exhibitions in the circus and the best contests and races in the hippodrome had hardly sufficed to attract his gaze. formerly he had been an eager and attentive spectator of the plays of menander and of his imitators, alexis, apollodorus and posidippus; but now when they were performed he stared into vacancy and thought of selene. the prospect of going to the place where she was living excited him powerfully and revived his drooping courage for life. he could hope once more, and to the man who sees light shining in the future the present is no longer dark. hadrian rejoiced in this change in the lad and hastened the preparations for their departure; still, some months passed before he could begin his journey. in the first place he had to provide for newly colonizing libya, which had been depopulated by a revolt of the jews. then he had to come to a determination as to certain new post-roads which were to connect the different parts of the empire more nearly, and finally he had to await the formal assent of the roman senate to some new resolutions concerning the hereditary reversion of conferred free-citizenship. this assent was, no doubt a matter of course, but the emperor never issued an edict without it, and he was very desirous that his decree should come into operation as soon as possible. in the course of his visits to the museum the sovereign had informed himself as to the position of the several members of that institution, and he was occupied in making certain regulations which should relieve them of the more sordid cares of life; the condition of the aged teachers and educators of the young had also attracted his observation, and he had endeavored to improve it. when sabina represented to him what a large outlay these new measures would entail, he replied: "we do not allow the veterans to perish who placed their lives, and limbs at the service of the state. why then should those who serve it with their intellect be burdened with petty cares? which should we rank the higher, power and poverty or mental wealth? the harder i--as the sovereign--find it to answer the question the more positively do i feel it to be my duty to mete out the same measure to all veterans alike, whether officials, warriors or instructors." the alexandrians themselves detained him too by a succession of new acts of homage. they raised him to the rank of a divinity, dedicated a temple to him, and instituted a series of new festivals in his honor; partly no doubt to win his partiality for their city and to express their pride and satisfaction in his long stay there, but also because the pleasure-loving community was glad to seize this opportunity as a favorable one for gratifying their own inclinations and revelling in mere unusual enjoyment. thus the imperial visit swallowed up millions, and hadrian, who enquired into every detail and contrived to obtain information as to the sums expended by the city, blamed the recklessness of his lavish entertainers. he wrote afterwards to his brother-in-law, servianus, his fullest recognition of both the wealth and the industry of alexandrians, saying, with terms of praise, that among them not one was idle. one made glass, another papyrus, another linen; and each of these restless mortals, said he, is busied in some handiwork. even the lame, the blind and the maimed here sought and found employment. nevertheless he calls the alexandrians a contumacious and good-for-nothing community, with sharp and evil tongues that had spared neither verus nor antinous. jews, christians, and the votaries of serapis, he adds in the same letter, serve but one god instead of the divinities of olympus, and when he asserts of the christians that they even worshipped serapis he means to say that they were persuaded of the doctrine of the survival of the soul after death. the dispute as to which temple should be assigned as the residence of the newly-found apis gave hadrian much to do. from time immemorial this sacred bull had been kept in the temple of ptah at memphis, but this venerable city of the pyramids had been outstripped by alexandria, and the temple of serapis outvied that at memphis in the province of sokari, tenfold in size and in magnificence. the egyptians of alexandria, who dwelt in the quarter called rhakotis, close to the serapeum, desired to have the incarnation of the god in the form of a bull, in their midst; but the memphites would not abandon their old prescriptive rights, and the emperor had found it far from easy to guide the contest, which proved a very exciting one to all parties, to a satisfactory issue. memphis had its apis, and the serapeum was indemnified by certain endowments which had formerly been granted to the temple at memphis. at last, in june, the emperor could set out. he wished to traverse the province on foot and on horseback, and sabina was to follow by boat as soon as the inundation should begin. the empress would gladly have returned to rome or to tibur, for verus had been obliged to quit egypt by the orders of the physician as soon as the summer heat had set in. he departed with his wife, as the son of the imperial couple, but no word on hadrian's part had justified him in hoping confidently to be nominated as his successor to the sovereignty. the handsome rake's unlimited dissipations were severely checked by his sufferings, but not altogether prevented, and on his return to rome he continued to indulge in all the pleasures of life. hadrian's hesitation and reluctance often disquieted him, for that imperial sphinx had, only too frequently, given the most unexpected solutions to his mystifications. but the fatal end with which he had been threatened caused him small anxiety; nay, ben jochai's prediction rather prompted him to enjoy to the utmost every hour of health and ease that fate might still allow him. chapter xix. balbilla and her companion, publius balbinus and other illustrious romans, favorinus the sophist, and a numerous suite of chamberlains and servants, were to accompany the empress by water, while hadrian set forth on his land journey with a small escort to which he added a splendid array of huntsmen. before he reached memphis, in crossing the libyan desert, through which his road lay, he had killed a few lions and many other beasts of prey, and here he had once more found antinous the best of sporting companions. cool headed in danger, indefatigable on foot, content and serviceable in all circumstances, the young fellow seemed to hadrian to be a comrade created by the gods themselves for his special delectation. when hadrian was in the humor to brood and be silent the whole day long, he never disturbed him by a word; but in these moods the emperor found his favorite's society indispensable, for the mere consciousness of his presence soothed him. antinous too, was happy on these occasions, for he felt that he was of some use to his venerated master and could thus alleviate the burden which had never ceased to weigh on his own soul ever since the crime he had committed. besides, he preferred dreaming to talking, and the exercise in the open air preserved him from listless lassitude. in memphis hadrian was detained a whole month, for there he was expected to visit the egyptian temples with sabina, who had arrived before him, and to submit to many ceremonials invested with the regalia of the pharaohs. sabina often felt as if she must faint when, crowned with the ponderous vulture-headed fillet of the queens of egypt, weighed down with long robes and golden ornaments, she was conducted with her husband, in procession, through all the rooms, over the roof and finally into the holiest place of some vast sanctuary. what senseless ceremonials they had to go through in the course of these long circuits, and how many sacrifices had they to attend! when she returned from these visitations she was utterly exhausted, and indeed, it was no small exertion to undergo so many fumigations with incense and so many aspersions, to listen to so many litanies and hymns, to parade through such endless halls and while being elevated to the rank of celestial beings, to be crowned with so many crowns in turn and decorated with all kinds of fillets and symbolic adornments. her husband set her a good example, however; through all the ceremonials he displayed the whole grave majesty of his nature, and among the egyptians behaved as one of themselves. he even took pleasure in the mystical lore of the priests, with whom he often held long conversations. as at memphis, so in all the principal temples of the great cities to the southward, the imperial pair accepted the homage of the hierarchy and the honors due to divinity. wherever hadrian granted money for the extension of a temple, he was required to perform the ceremony of laying a stone with his own hand. but he always found time to hunt in the desert, to manage the affairs of state, and to visit the most interesting monuments of past times, and at memphis especially, the city of the dead, with the pyramids, the great sphinx, the serapeum and the tombs of the apis. before quitting the city he and his companions consulted the oracle of the sacred bull. the fairest future was promised to balbilla; the bull to whom she had to offer a cake, with her face averted, had approved of her gift and had touched her hand with his moist muzzle. hadrian was left in ignorance as to the sentence of the priests of apis, for it was given to him in a sealed roll with an explanation of the signs it contained; but he was solemnly adjured not to open them before at least half a year had elapsed. it was only in the cities that hadrian met his wife, for he pursued his journey by land and she hers by water. the boats almost invariably reached their destination sooner than the land-travellers, and when they at last arrived, there was always a grand festival to welcome them, in which however sabina but rarely took part. balbilla proved herself all the more eager to make their arrival pleasant by some kindly surprise. she sincerely reverenced hadrian, and his favorite's beauty had an irresistible charm for her artist's soul. it was a delight to her only to look at him; his absence troubled her, and when he returned she was always the first to greet him. and yet the bright girl troubled herself about him neither more nor less than the other ladies in sabina's train; only balbilla asked nothing of him but the pleasure of looking at him and rejoicing in his beauty. if he had dared to mistake her admiration for love and to have offered her his, the poetess would have indignantly brought him to his bearings; and yet she gave unqualified expression to her admiration of the bithynian's splendid person, and indeed with rather remarkable demonstrativeness. when the travellers made their appearance again after a prolonged absence antinous would find in the room in the ship where he was to live flowers, and choice fruits sent by her, and verses in which she had sung his praises. he put it all aside with the rest and only esteemed the donor the less; but the poetess knew nothing of these sentiments in her beautiful idol, and indeed troubled herself very little about his feelings. she had hitherto found no difficulty in keeping within the limits of what was becoming. but lately there had been moments in which she had owned to herself that she might be carried away into overstepping these limits. but what did she care for the opinion of those around her, or about the inner life of the bithyman, whose external perfection of form was all that pleased her. she did not shrink from the possibility of arousing hopes in him which she never could nor intended to fulfil, for the idea did not once enter her mind; still she felt dissatisfied with herself, for there was one person who might disapprove of her proceedings, one who had indeed in plain words reprehended her fancy for doing honor to the handsome boy with offerings of flowers, and the opinion of that one person weighed with her more than that of all the rest of the men and women she knew, put together. this one was pontius the architect; and yet, strangely enough, it was precisely her remembrance of him that urged her on from one folly to another. she had often seen the architect in alexandria, and when they parted she had allowed him to promise to follow her and the empress, and to escort them at any rate for a part of their voyage up the nile. but he came not, nor had he sent any report of himself, though he was alive and well, and every express that overtook them brought documents for caesar in his handwriting. so he, on whose faithful devotion she had built as on a rock, was no less self-seeking and fickle than other men. she thought of him every day and every hour; and as soon as a vessel from the north cast anchor within sight, she watched the voyagers as they disembarked to detect him among them. she longed for pontius as a traveller who has lost his way sighs for a sight of the guide who has deserted him; and yet she was angry with him, for he had betrayed by a thousand tokens that he esteemed and cared for her, that she had a certain power over his strong will--and now he had broken his word and did not come. and she? she had not been unmoved by his devotion, and had been gentler to this grandson of her father's freed slave than to the best-born man of her own rank. and in spite of it all pontius could spoil all the pleasure of her journey and stay in alexandria instead of following in her wake. he could easily have intrusted his building to other architects--the great metropolis was swarming with them! well, if he did not trouble himself about her she certainly need care even less about him. perhaps at last, at the end of their travels he might yet come, and then he should see how much she cared for his admonitions. but she sighed impatiently for the hour when she might read him all the verses she had addressed to antinous, and ask him how he liked them. it gave her a childish pleasure to add to the number of these little poems, to finish them elaborately, and display in them all her knowledge and ability. she gave the preference to artificial and massive metres; some of the verses were in latin, others in the attic, and others again in the aeolian dialects of greek, for she had now learnt to use this, and all to punish pontius--to vex pontius--and at the same time to appear in his eyes as brilliant as she could. she belauded antinous, but she wrote for pontius, and for every flower she gave the lad she had sent a thought to the architect, though with a curl on her lips of scornful defiance. but a young girl cannot be always praising the beauty of a youth in new and varied forms with complete impunity, and thus there were hours when balbilla was inclined to believe that she really loved antinous. then she would call herself his sappho, and he seemed destined to be her phaon. during his long absences with the emperor she would long to see him--nay, even with tears; but, as soon as he was by her side again, and she could look at his inanimate beauty and into his weary eyes, when she heard the torpid "yes" or "no" with which he replied to her questions, the spell was entirely broken and she honestly confessed to herself that she would as soon see him before her hewn in marble as clothed in flesh and blood. in such moments as these her memory of the architect was particularly fresh, and once, when their ship was sailing through a mass of lotos leaves, above which one splendid full-blown flower raised its head, her apt imagination, which rapidly seized on everything noteworthy and gave it poetic form, entwined the incident in a set of verses, in which she designated antinous as the lotos-flower which fulfils its destiny simply by being beautiful, and comparing pontius to the ship which, well constructed and well guided, invited the traveller to new voyages in distant lands. the nile voyage came to an end at thebes of the hundred gates, and here nothing that could attract the roman travellers remained unvisited. the tombs of the pharaohs extending into the very heart of the rocky hills, and the grand temples that stood to the west of the city of the dead, shorn though they were of their ancient glory, filled the emperor with admiration. the imperial travellers and their companions listened to the famous colossus of memnon, of which the upper portion had been overthrown by an earthquake, and three times in the dawn they heard it sound. balbilla described the incident in several long poems which sabina caused to be engraved on the stone of the colossus. the poetess imagined herself as hearing the voice of memnon singing to his mother eos while her tears, the fresh morning dew, fell upon the image of her son, fallen before the walls of troy. these verses she composed in the aeolian dialect, named herself as their writer and informed the readers--among whom she included pontius--that she was descended from a house no less noble than that of king antiochus. the gigantic structures on each bank of the nile fully equalled hadrian's expectations, though they had suffered so much injury from earthquakes and sieges, and the impoverished priesthood of thebes were no longer in a position to provide for their preservation even, much less for their restoration. balbilla accompanied caesar on a visit to the sanctuary of ammon, on the eastern shore of the nile. in the great hall, the most vast and lofty pillared hall in the world, her impressionable soul felt a peculiar exaltation, and as the emperor observed how, with a heightened color she now gazed upward, and then again, leaning against a towering column, looked at the scene around her, he asked her what she felt, standing in this really worthy abode of the gods. "one thing--above all things one thing!" cried the girl. "that architecture is the sublimest of the arts! this temple is to me like some grand epode, and the poet who composed it conceived it not in feeble words but formed it out of almost immovable masses. thousands of parts are here combined to form a whole, and each is welded with the rest into beautiful harmony and helps to give expression to the stupendous idea which existed in the brain of the builder of this hall. what other art is gifted with the power of creating a work so imperishable and so far transcending all ordinary standards?" "a poetess crowning the architect with laurels!" exclaimed the emperor. "but is not the poet's realm the infinite, and can the architect ever get beyond the finite and the limited?" "then is the nature of the divinity a measurable unit?" asked balbilla. "no, it is not; and yet this hall gives one the impression that the very divinity might find space in it to dwell in." "because it owes it existence to a master-mind, which while it conceived it stood on the boundary line of eternity. but do you think this temple will outlast the poems of homer?" "no; but the memory of it will no more fade away that of the wrath of achilles or the wanderings of the experienced odysseus." "it is a pity that our friend pontius cannot hear you," said hadrian. "he has completed the plans for a work which is destined to outlive me and him and all of us. "i mean my own tomb. besides that i intend him to erect gates, courts and halls in the egyptian style at tibur, which may remind us of our travels in this wonderful country. i expect him to-morrow." "to-morrow!" exclaimed balbilla, and her face fired with a scarlet flush to her very brow. chapter xx. shortly after starting from thebes--on the second day of november-hadrian came to a great decision. verus should be acknowledged not merely as his son but also as his successor. sabina's urgency would not alone have sufficed to put a term to his hesitancy, especially as it had lately been farther increased by a wish that was all his own. his wife's heart had pined for a child, but he too had longed for a son, and he had found one in antinous. his favorite was a boy he had picked up by chance, the son of humble though free parents, but it lay in the emperor's power to make him great, to confer on him the highest posts of honor in the empire, and at last to recognize him publicly as his heir. antinous, if any one, had deserved this at his hands, and on no other man could he so ungrudgingly bestow everything that he possessed. these ideas and hopes had now filled his mind for many months, but the nature and the mood of the young bithyman had been more and more adverse to them. hadrian had striven more earnestly than his predecessors to raise the fallen dignity of the senate, and still he could count securely on its consent to any measure. the leading official authorities of the republic had been recognized and allowed the full exercise of their powers. to be sure, be they whom they might, they all had to obey the emperor, still they were always there; and even with a weak ruler at its head the empire might continue to subsist within the limits established by hadrian, and restricted with wise moderation. nevertheless, only a few months previously he would not have ventured to think of the adoption of his favorite. now he hoped to find himself somewhat nearer to the fulfilment of his wishes. it is true antinous was still a dreamer; but in their wanderings and hunting excursions through egypt he had proved himself gallant and prompt, intelligent, and, after their departure from thebes, even bold and lively at times. antinous, under this aspect, he himself might take in hand, and even name him as his successor in due time, when he had risen from one post of honor to another. for the present this plan must remain unrevealed. when he publicly adopted verus any idea of a possible new selection of a son was excluded, and he might unhesitatingly venture to appoint sabina's darling his successor, for the most famous of the roman physicians had written to hadrian, by his desire, saying that the praetor's undermined strength could not be restored, and that, at the best, he could only have a limited number of years to live. well, then, verus might die slowly and contentedly in the midst of the most splendid anticipations, and when he should have closed his eyes it would be time enough to set the dreamer--by that time matured to vigorous manhood--in the vacant place. on the return journey from thebes to alexandria hadrian met his wife at abydos, and revealed to her his intention of proclaiming the son of her choice as his successor. sabina thanked him with an exclamation of "at last!" which expressed partly her satisfaction, but partly too her annoyance at her husband's long delay. hadrian gave her his permission to return to rome from alexandria, and on the very same day messages were despatched with letters both to the senate and to the prefects of egypt. the despatch intended for titianus charged him to proclaim publicly the adoption of the praetor, to arrange at the same time for a grand festival, and on that occasion to grant to the people, in caesar's name, all the boons and favors which by the traditional law of egypt the sovereign was expected to bestow at the birth of an heir to the throne. the whole suite of the imperial pair celebrated hadrian's decision by splendid banquets, but the emperor did not himself take part in them, but crossed to the other bank of the nile and went to antaeopolis in the desert, meaning to penetrate from thence into the gorges of the arabian desert and to chase wild beasts. no one was to accompany him but antinous, mastor, and a few huntsmen and some dogs. he meant to rejoin the ships at besa. he had postponed his visit to this place till the return journey, because he had travelled up by the western shore of the nile, and the passage across the river would have taken up too much time. the travellers' tents were pitched one sultry evening in november, between the nile and the limestone range, in which was arrayed a long row of tombs of the period of the pharaohs. hadrian had gone to visit these, for the remarkable pictures on the walls delighted him, but antinous remained behind, for he had already looked at similar works oftener than he cared for, in upper egypt. he found these pictures monotonous and unlovely, and he had not the patience to investigate their meaning as his master did. he had been a hundred times into the ancient rock-tombs, only not to leave hadrian and not for his own amusement; but to-day--he could hardly bear himself for impatience and excitement, for he knew that a ride, a walk, of a few hours, would carry him to besa and to selene. the emperor would remain absent three or four hours at any rate, and if he made up his mind to it he could have sought out the girl for whom his heart was longing before his return, and still be back again before his master. but before acting he must reflect. there was the emperor climbing the hill-side where he could see him, and messengers were expected and he had been charged to receive them. it they should bring bad news, his master must on no account be alone. ten times did he go up to his good hunter to leap upon his back; once he even took down the horse's head-gear to put on his bridle, but in the very act of slipping the complicated bit between the teeth of his steed his resolution gave way. during all this delay and hesitation the minutes slipped away, and at last it was so late that hadrian might return and it was folly to think of carrying his plan into execution. the expected express arrived with several letters, but the emperor did not come back. it grew dark, and heavy rain-drops fell from the overcast sky, and still antinous was alone. his anxious longing was mingled with regret for the lost opportunity of seeing selene and alarm at the emperor's prolonged absence. in spite of the rain, which began to fill more violently, he went out into the open air, of which the sweltering oppressiveness had helped to fetter his feeble volition, and called to the dogs, with whose help he proposed seeking the emperor; but just then he heard the bark of argus, and soon after hadrian and mastor stepped out of the darkness into the brightness which shone out from the tent, where lights were burning. the emperor gave his favorite but a brief greeting and silently submitted while antinous dried his hair and brought him some refreshments, and mastor bathed his feet and dressed him in fresh garments. as he reclined with the bithyman, before the supper which was standing ready, he said: "a strange evening! how hot and oppressive the atmosphere is. we must be on the lookout, something serious is brewing." "what happened to you, my lord?" "many things. at the door of the very first tomb that i was about to enter i found an old black woman who stretched out her hands against us to keep us out and shrieked out words that sounded horrible." "did you understand her?" "no--who can learn egyptian." "then you do not know what she said?" "i was to find out--she cried out 'dead!' and again 'dead!' and in the tomb which she was watching there were i know not how many persons attacked by the plague." "you saw them?" "yes, i had only heard of this disease till then. it is frightful, and quite answers to the descriptions i had read of it." "but caesar!" cried antinous reproachfully and in alarm. "when we turned our backs on the tombs," continued hadrian, paying no heed to the lad's exclamation, "we were met by an elderly man dressed in white and a strange-looking maiden. she was lame but of remarkable beauty." "and she was going to the sick?" "yes, she had brought medicine and food to them." "but she did not go in among them?" asked antinous eagerly. "she did, in spite of my warnings. in her companion i recognized an old acquaintance." 'an old one?" "at any rate older than myself. we had met in athens when we still were young. at that time he was one of the school of plato and the most zealous, nay, perhaps the most gifted of us all." "how came such a man among the plague-stricken people of besa? is he become a physician?" "no. but at athens he sought fervently and eagerly for the truth, and now he asserts that he has found it." "here, among the egyptians?" "in alexandria among the christians." "and the lame girl who accompanied the philosopher--does she too believe in the crucified god?" "yes. she is a sick-nurse or something of the kind. indeed there is something grand in the ecstatic craze of these people." "is it true that they worship an ass and a dove?" "nonsense!" "i did not want to believe it; and at any rate they are kind, and succor all who suffer, even strangers who do not belong to their sect." "how do you know?" "one hears a great deal about them in alexandria." "alas! alas!--i never persecute an imaginary foe, as such i reckon the creeds and ideas of other men; still, i cannot but ask myself whether it can add to the prosperity of the state when citizens cease to struggle against the pressure and necessity of life and console themselves for them instead, by the hope of visionary happiness in another world which perhaps only exists in the fancy of those who believe in it." "i should wish that life might end with death," said antinous thoughtfully; "and yet--" "well?" "if i were sure that in that other world i should find those i long to see again, then i might long for a future life." "and would you really like, throughout all eternity, to push and struggle in the crowd of old acquaintances which death does not diminish but rather multiplies?" "nay, not that--but i should like to be permitted to live for ever with a few chosen friends." "and should i be one of them?" "yes--indeed," cried antinous warmly and pressing his lips to hadrian's hand. "i was sure of it--but even with the promise of never being obliged to part with you my darling, i would never sacrifice the only privilege which man enjoys above the immortals." "what privilege can you mean?" "the right of withdrawing from the ranks of the living as soon as annihilation seems more endurable than existence and i choose to call death to release me." "the gods, it is true, cannot die." "and the christians only to link a new life on to death." "but a fairer and a happier than this on earth." they say it is a life of bliss. but the mother of this everlasting life is the ineradicable love of existence in even the most wretched of our race, and hope is its father. they believe in a complete freedom from suffering in that other world because he whom they call their redeemer, the crucified christ, has saved them from all sufferings by his death." "and can a man take upon him the sufferings of others, think you, like a garment or a burden?" "they say so, and my friend from athens is quite convinced. in books of magic there are many formulas by which misfortunes may be transferred not merely from men to beasts, but from one human being to another. very remarkable experiments have even been carried out with slaves, and to this day i have to struggle in several, provinces to suppress human sacrifices by which the gods are to be reconciled or propitiated. only think of the innocent iphigenia who was dragged to the altar; did not the gulf in the forum close when curtius had leaped into it? when fate shoots a fatal arrow at you and i receive it in my breast, perhaps she is content with the chance victim and does not enquire as to whom she has hit." "the gods would be exorbitant indeed if they were not content with your blood for mine!" "life is life, and that of the young is of better worth than that of the old. many joys will yet bloom for you." "and you are indispensable to the whole world." "after me another will come. are you ambitious, boy?" "no, my lord." "what then can be the meaning of this: that every one wishes me joy of my son verus excepting you. do you not like my choice?" antinous colored and looked at the ground, and hadrian went on: "say honestly what you feel." "the praetor is ill." "he can have but a few years to live, and when he is dead--" "he may recover--" "when he is dead, i must look out for another son. what do you think now? who is the being that every man, from a slave to a consul, would soonest hear call him 'father?"' "some one he tenderly loved." "true--and particularly when that one clung to him with unchangeable fidelity. i am a man like any other, and you, my good fellow, are always nearest to my heart, and i shall bless the day when i may authorize you, before all the world, to call me 'father.' do not interrupt me. if you resolutely concentrate your will and show as keen a sense for ruling men as you do for the chase, if you try to sharpen your wits and take in what i teach you, it may some day happen that antinous instead of verus--" "nay, not that, only not that!" cried the lad, turning very pale and raising his hands beseechingly. "the greatness with which destiny surprises us seems terrible so long as it is new to us," said hadrian. "but the seaman is soon accustomed to the storms, and we come to wear the purple as you do your chiton." "oh, caesar, i entreat you," said antinous, anxiously, "put aside these ideas; i am not fit for great things." "the smallest saplings grow to be palms." "but i am only a wretched little herb that thrives awhile in your shadow. proud rome--" "rome is my handmaid. she has been forced before now to be ruled by men of inferior stamp, and i should show her how the handsomest of her sons can wear the purple. the world may look for such a choice from a sovereign whom it has long known to be an artist, that is a high-priest of the beautiful. and if not, i will teach it to form its taste on mine." "you are pleased to mock me, caesar," cried the bithynian. "you certainly cannot be in earnest, and if it is true that you love me--" "what now, boy?" "you will let me live unknown for you, care for you; you will ask nothing of me but reverence and love and fidelity." "i have long had them, and i now would fain repay my antinous for all these treasures." "only let me stay with you, and if necessary let me die for you." "i believe, boy, you would be ready to make the sacrifice we were speaking of for me!" "at any moment without winking an eyelash." "i thank you for those words. it has turned out a pleasant evening, and what a bad one i looked forward to--" "because the woman by the tomb startled you?" "'dead,' is a grim word. it is true that 'death'--being dead--can frighten no wise man; but the step out of light into darkness is fearful. i cannot get the figure of the old hag and her shrill cry out of my mind. then the christian came up, and his discourse was strange and disturbing to my soul. before it grew dark he and the limping girl went homewards; i stood looking after them and my eyes were dazzled by the sun which was sinking over the libyan range. the horizon was clear, but behind the day-star there were clouds. in the west, the egyptians say, lies the realm of death. i could not help thinking of this; and the oracle, the misfortunes that the stars threatened me with in the course of this year, the cry of the old woman--all these crowded into my mind together. but then, as i observed how the sun struggled with the clouds and approached nearer and nearer to the hill-tops on the farther side of the river, i said to myself: if it sets in full radiance you may look confidently to the future; if it is swallowed up by clouds before it sinks to rest, then destiny will fulfil itself; then you must shorten sail and wait for the storm." "and what happened?" "the fiery globe burnt in glowing crimson, surrounded by a million rays. each seemed separate from the rest and shone with glory of its own; it was as though the sinking disc had been the centre of bow-shots innumerable and golden arrow-shafts radiated to the sky in every direction. the scene was magnificent and my heart beat high with happy excitement, when suddenly and swiftly a dark cloud fell, as though exasperated by the wounds it had received from those fiery darts; a second followed, and a third, and sinister daimons flung a dark and fleecy curtain over the glorious head of helios, as the executioner throws a coarse black cloth over the head of the condemned, when he sets his knee against him to strangle him." at this narrative antinous covered his face with both hands, and murmured in terror: "frightful, frightful! what can be hanging over us? only listen, how it thunders, and the rain thrashes the tent." "the clouds are pouring out torrents; see the water is coming in already. the slaves must dig gutters for it to run off. drive the pegs tighter you fellows out there or the whirlwind will tear down the slight structure." "and how sultry the air is!" "the hot wind seems to warm even the flood of rain. here it is still dry; mix me a cup of wine, antinous. have any letters come?" "yes, my lord." "give them to me, mastor." the slave, who was busily engaged in damming up with earth and stones, the trickling stream of rain-water that was soaking into the tent, sprang up, hastily dried his hands, took a sack out of the chest in which the emperor's despatches were kept and gave it to his master. hadrian opened the leather bag, took out a roll, hastily broke it open, and then, after rapidly glancing at the contents, exclaimed: "what is this? i have opened the record of the oracle of apis. how did it come among to-day's letters?" antinous went up to hadrian, looked at the sack, and said: "mastor has made a mistake. these are the documents from memphis. i will bring you the right despatch-bag." "stay!" said hadrian, eagerly seizing his favorite's hand. "is this a mere trick of chance or a decree of fate? why should this particular sack have come into my hands to-day of all others? why, out of twenty documents it contains, should i have taken out this very one? look here.--i will explain these signs to you. here stand three pairs of arms bearing shields and spears, close by the name of the egyptian month that corresponds to our november. these are the three signs of misfortune. the lutes up there are of happier omen. the masts here indicate the usual state of affairs. three of these hieroglyphics always occur together. three lutes indicate much good fortune, two lutes and one mast good fortune and moderate prosperity, one pair of arms and two lutes misfortune, followed by happiness, and so forth. here, in november, begin the arms with weapons, and here they stand in threes and threes, and portend nothing but unqualified misfortune, never mitigated by a single lute. do you see, boy? have you understood the meaning of these signs?" "perfectly well; but do you interpret them rightly? the fighting arms may perhaps lead to victory." "no. the egyptians use them to indicate conflict, and to them conflict and unrest are identical with what we call evil and disaster." "that is strange!" "nay, it is well conceived; for they say that everything was originally created good by the gods, but that the different portions of the great all changed their nature by restless and inharmonious mingling. this explanation was given me by the priest of apis, and here--here by the month of november are the three fighting arias--a hideous token. if one of the flashes which light up this tent so incessantly, like a living stream of light were to strike you, or me, and all of us--i should not wonder. terrible--terrible things hang over us! it requires some courage under such omens as these, to keep an untroubled gaze and not to quail." "only use your own arms against the fighting arms of the egyptian gods; they are powerful," said antinous; but hadrian let his head sink on his breast, and said, in a tone of discouragement: "the gods themselves must succumb to destiny." the thunder continued to roar. more than once the storm snapped the tent-ropes, and the slaves were obliged to hold on to the emperor's fragile shelter with their hands; the chambers of the clouds poured mighty torrents out upon the desert range which for years had not known a drop of rain, and every rift and runlet was filled with a stream or a torrent. neither hadrian nor antinous closed their eyes that fearful night. the emperor had as yet opened only one of the rolls that were in the day's letter-bag; it contained the information that titianus the prefect was cruelly troubled by his old difficulty of breathing, with a petition from that worthy official to be allowed to retire from the service of the state and to withdraw to his own estate. it was no small matter for hadrian to dispense for the future with this faithful coadjutor, to lose the man on whom he had had his eye to tranquillize judaea--where a fresh revolt had raised its head, and to reduce it again to subjection without bloodshed. to crush and depopulate the rebellious province was within the power of other men, but to conquer and govern it with kindness belonged only to the wise and gentle titianus. the emperor had no heart to open a second letter that night. he lay in silence on his couch till morning began to grow gray, thinking over every evil hour of his life-the murders of nigrinus, of tatianus and of the senators, by which he had secured the sovereignty--and again he vowed to the gods immense sacrifices if only they would protect him from impending disaster. when he rose next morning antinous was startled at his aspect, for hadrian's face and lips were perfectly bloodless. after he had read the remainder of his letters he started, not on foot but on horseback, with antinous and mastor for besa, there to await the rest of the escort. chapter xxi. the unchained elements had raged that night with equal fury over the nile city of besa. the citizens of this ancient town had done all they could to give the imperial traveller a worthy reception. the chief streets had been decked with ropes of flowers strung from mast to mast and from house to house, and by the harbor, close to the river shore, statues of hadrian and his wife had been erected. but the storm tore down the masts and the garlands, and the lashed waters of the nile had beaten with irresistible fury on the bank; had carried away piece after piece of the fertile shore, flung its waves, like liquid wedges into the rifts of the parched land; and excavated the high bank by the landing-quay. after midnight the storm was still raging with unheard-of fury; it swept the palm thatch from many of the houses, and beat the stream with such violence that it was like a surging sea. the full unbroken force of the flood beat again and again on the promontory on which stood the statues of the imperial couple. shortly before the first dawn of light the little tongue of land, which was protected by no river wall, could no longer resist the furious attack of the waters; huge clods of soil slipped and fell with a loud noise into the river and were followed by a large mass of the cliff, with a roar as of thunder the plateau behind sank, and the statue of the emperor which stood upon it began to totter and lean slowly to its fall. when day broke it was lying with the pedestal still above ground, but the head was buried in the earth. at break of day the citizens left their houses to inquire of the fishermen and boatmen what had occurred in the harbor during the night. as soon as the storm had abated, hundreds, nay thousands, of men, women and children thronged the landing-place round the fallen statue--they saw the land-slip and knew that the current had torn the land from the bank and caused the mischief. was it that hapi, the nile-god, was angry with the emperor? at any rate the disaster that had befallen the image of the sovereign boded evil, that was clear. the toparch, the chief municipal authority, at once set to work to reinstate the statue which was itself uninjured, for hadrian might arrive in a few hours. numerous men, both free and slaves, crowded to undertake the work, and before long the statue of hadrian, executed in the egyptian style, once more stood upright and gazing with a fixed countenance towards the harbor. sabina's was also put back by the side of her husband's and the toparch went home satisfied. with him most of the starers and laborers left the quay, but their place was taken by other curious folks who had missed the statue from its place, where the land had fallen, and now expressed their opinions as to the mode and manner of its fall. "the wind can never have overturned this heavy mass of limestone," said a ropemaker: "and see how far it stands from the broken ground." they say it fell on the top of land-slip," answered a baker. "that is how it was," said a sailor. "nonsense!" cried the ropemaker. "if the statue had stood on the ground now carried away, it must have fallen at once into the water and have sunk to the bottom--any child can see that other powers have been at work here." "very likely," said a temple-servant who devoted himself to the interpretation of signs: "the gods may have overset the proud image to give a warning token to hadrian." "the immortals do not mix in the affairs of men in our day," said the sailor; "but in such a fearful night as this peaceful citizens remain within doors and so leave a fair field for caesar's foes." "we are all faithful subjects," said the baker indignantly. "you are a pack of rebellious rabble," retorted a roman soldier, who like the whole cohort quartered in the province of hermopolis, had formerly served in judaea under the cruel tinnius rufus. "among you worshippers of beasts squabbles never cease, and as to the christians, who have made their nests out there on the other side of the valley, say the worst you can of them and still you would be flattering them." "brave fuscus is quite right!" cried a beggar. the wretches have brought the plague into our houses; wherever the disease shows itself there are christian men and women to be seen. they came to my brother's house; they sat all night by his sick children and of course both died." "if only my old governor tinnius rufus were here," growled the soldier, "they would none of them be any better off than their own crucified god." "well, i certainly have nothing in common with them," replied the baker. "but what is true must continue true. they are quiet, kind folks and punctual in payment, who do no harm and show kindness to many poor creatures." "kindness?" cried the beggar, who had received alms himself from the deacon of the church at besa, but had also been exhorted to work. "all the five priests of sekket of the grotto of artemis have been led away by them and have basely abandoned the sanctuary of the goddess. and is it good and kind that they should have poisoned my brother's children with their potions?" "why should they not have killed the children?" asked the soldier. "i heard of the same things in syria; and as to this statue, i will never wear my sword again--" "hark! listen to the bold fuscus," cried the crowd. "he has seen much." "i will never wear my sword again if they did not knock over the statue in the dark." "no, no," cried the sailor positively. "it fell with the land that was washed away; i saw it lying there myself." "and are you a christian, too?" asked the soldier, "or do you suppose that i was in jest when i swore by my sword? i have served in bithynia, in syria, and in judaea. i know these villains, good people. there were hundreds of christians to be seen there who would throw away life like a worn-out shoe because they did not choose to sacrifice to the statues of caesar and the gods." "there, you hear!" cried the beggar. "and did you see a single man of them among the citizens who set to work to restore the statue to its place?" "there were none of them there," said the sailor, who was beginning to share the soldier's views. "the christians threw down the emperor's statue," the beggar shouted to the crowd. "it is proved, and they shall suffer for it. every man who is a friend of the divine hadrian come with me now and have them out of their houses." "no uproar!" interrupted the soldier to the furious man. "there is the tribune, he will hear you." the roman officer, who now came past with a troop of soldiers to receive the emperor outside the city, was greeted by the crowd with loud shouting. he commanded silence and made the soldier tell him what had so violently excited the people. "very possibly," said the tribune, a sinewy and stern-looking man, who, like fuscus, had served under tinnius rufus, and had risen from a sutler to be an officer, "very possibly--but where are your proofs?" "most of the citizens helped in reerecting the statue, but the christians held aloof from the work," cried the beggar. "there was not one to be seen. ask the sailor, my lord; he was by and he can bear witness to it." "that certainly is more than suspicious. this matter must be strictly inquired into. pay heed, you people." "here comes a christian girl!" cried the sailor. "lame martha; i know her well," interrupted the beggar. "she goes into all the plague-stricken houses and poisons the people. she stayed three days and three nights at my brother's turning the children's pillows till they were carried out. wherever she goes death follows." selene, now known as martha, paid no heed to the crowd, but with her blind brother helios, now called john, went calmly on her way which led from the raised bank down to the landing-quay. there she wished to hire a boat to take her across the stream, for in a village on the island over against the town dwelt some sick christians to whom she was carrying medicines and whom she was intending to watch. for months past her whole life had been devoted to the suffering. she had carried help even into heathen homes, and shrunk from neither fever nor plague. her cheeks had gained no color, but her eyes shone with a gentler and purer light which glorified the severe beauty of her features. as the girl approached the captain he fixed his eyes on her, and called out: "hey! pale-face--are you a christian?" "yes, my lord," replied selene, and she went on quietly and indifferently with her brother. the roman looked after her, and as she passed by hadrian's statue, and, as she did so, dropped her head rather lower than before, he roughly ordered her to stop and to tell him why she had averted her face from the statue of caesar. "hadrian is our ruler as well as yours," answered the young girl. "i am in haste for there are sick people on the island." "you will bring them no good!" cried the beggar. "who knows what is hidden there in the basket?" "silence!" interrupted the tribune. "they say, girl that your fellowbelievers overthrew the statue of caesar in the night." "how should that be? we honor caesar no less than you do." "i will believe you, and you shall prove it. there stands the statue of the divine caesar. come with me and worship it." selene looked with horror in the face of the stern man, and could not find a word of reply. "well!" asked the captain, "will you come? yes or no?" selene struggled for self-possession, and when the soldier held out his hand to her she said with a trembling voice: "we honor the emperor but we pray to no statue--only to our father in heaven." "there you have it!" laughed the beggar. "once more i ask you," cried the tribune. "will you worship this statue, or do you refuse to do so?" a fearful struggle possessed selene's soul. if she resisted the roman her life was in danger, and the fury of the populace would be aroused against her fellow-believers--if, on the other hand, she obeyed him, she would be blaspheming god, breaking her faith to the saviour who loved her, sinning against the truth and her own conscience. a fearful dread fell upon her, and deprived her of the power to lift her soul in prayer. she could not, she dared not, do what was required of her, and yet the overweening love of life which exists in every mortal led her feet to the base of the idol and there stayed her steps. "lift up your hands and worship the divine caesar," cried the tribune, who with the rest of the lookers-on had watched her movements with keen excitement. trembling, she set her basket on the ground and tried to withdraw her hand from her brother's; but the blind boy held it fast. he fully understood what was required of his sister, he knew full well, from the history of many martyrs that had been told him, what fate awaited her and him if they resisted the roman's demand; but he felt no fear and whispered to her: "we will not obey his desires martha; we will not pray to idols, we will cling faithfully to the redeemer. turn me away from the image, and i will say 'our father.'" with a loud voice and his lustreless eyes upraised to heaven, the boy said the lord's prayer. selene had first set his face towards the river, and then she herself turned her back on the statue; then, lifting her hands, she followed the child's example. helios clung to her closely, her loudly uttered prayer was one with his, and neither of them saw or heard anything more of what befell them. the blind boy had a vision of a distant but glorious light, the maiden of a blissful life made beautiful by love, as she was flung to the ground in front of the statue of hadrian, and the excited mob rushed upon her and her faithful little brother. the military tribune tried in vain to hold back the populace, and by the time the soldiers had succeeded in driving the excited mob away from their victims, both the young hearts, in the midst of the triumph of their faith, in the midst of their hopes of an eternal and blissful life, had ceased to beat for ever. the occurrence disturbed the captain and made him very uneasy. this girl, this beautiful boy, who lay before him pale corpses, had been worthy of a better fate, and he might be made to answer for them; for the law forbade that any christian should be punished for his faith without a judge's sentence. he therefore commanded that the dead should be carried at once to the house to which they belonged, and threatened every one, who should that day set foot in the christian quarter, with the severest punishment. the beggar went off, shrieking and shouting, to his brother's house to tell the mistress that lame martha, who had nursed her daughter to death, was slain; but he gained an evil reward, for the poor woman bewailed selene as if she had been her own child, and cursed him and her murderers. before sundown hadrian arrived at besa, where he found magnificent tents pitched to receive him and his escort. the disaster that had befallen his statue was kept a secret from him, but he felt anxious and ill. he wished to be perfectly alone, and desired antinous to go to see the city before it should be dark. the bithynian joyfully embraced this permission as a gift of the gods; he hurried through the decorated high streets, and made a boy guide him from thence into the christian quarter. here the streets were like a city of the dead; not a door was open, not a man to be seen. antinous paid the lad, sent him away, and with a beating heart went from one house to another. each looked neat and clean, and was surrounded by trees and shrubs, but though the smoke curled up from several of the roofs every house seemed to have been deserted. at last he heard the sound of voices. guided by these he went through a lane to an open place where hundreds of people, men, women and children, were assembled in front of a small building which stood in the midst of a palm grove. he asked where dame hannah lived, and an old man silently pointed to the little house on which the attention of the christians seemed to be concentrated. the lad's heart throbbed wildly and yet he felt anxious and embarrassed, and he asked himself whether he had not better turn back and return next morning when he might hope to find selene alone. but no! perhaps he might even now be allowed to see her. he modestly made his way through the throng, which had set up a song in which he could not determine whether it was intended to express feelings of sadness or of triumph. now he was standing at the gate of the garden and saw mary the deformed girl. she was kneeling by a covered bier and weeping bitterly. was dame hannah dead? no, she was alive, for at this moment she came out of her house, leaning on an old man, pale, calm and tearless. both came forward, the old man uttered a short prayer and then stooping down, lifted the sheet which covered the dead. antinous pushed a step forward but instantly drew two steps back--then covering his eyes with his hand he stood as if rooted to the spot. there was no vehement lamentation. the old man began a discourse. all around were sounds of suppressed weeping, singing and praying but antinous saw and heard nothing. he had dropped his hand and never took his eyes off the white face of the dead till hannah once more covered it with the sheet. even then he did not stir. it was not till six young girls lifted selene's modest bier and four matrons took up that of little helios on their shoulders and the whole assembly moved away after them, that he too turned and followed the mourning procession. he looked on from a distance while the larger and the smaller coffins were carried into a rocktomb, while the entrance was carefully closed, and the procession dispersed some here and some there. at last he found himself alone and in front of the door of the vault. the sun went down, and darkness spread rapidly over hill and vale. when no one was to be seen who could observe him, he threw up his arms, clasped the pillar at the entrance of the tomb, pressed his lips against the rough wooden door and struck his forehead against it while his whole body trembled with the tearless anguish of his spirit. for some minutes he stood so and did not hear a light step which came up behind him. it was mary, who had come once more to pray by the grave of her beloved friend. she at once recognized the youth and softly called him by his name. "mary," he answered, clasping her hand eagerly. "how did she die?" "slain," she said, sadly. "she would not worship caesar's image." antinous shuddered at the words, and asked, "and why would she not?" "because she was faithful to our belief, and so hoped for the mercy of the saviour. now she is a blessed angel." "are you sure of that?" "as sure as i live in hope of meeting the martyr who rests here, again in heaven!" "mary." "leave go of my hand!" "will you do me a service, mary?" "willingly, antinous--but pray do not touch me." "take this money and buy the loveliest wreath that is to be had here. hang it on this tomb, and say as you do so--call out--, from antinous to selene.'" the deformed girl took the money he gave her and said: "she often prayed for you." "to her god?" "to our redeemer, that he might give you also joy. she died for christ jesus; now she is with him, and he will grant her prayers." antinous was silent for a while, then he said: "once more give me your hand, mary, and now farewell. will you sometimes think of me, and pray for me too, to your redeemer?" "yes, yes, and you will not quite forget me, the poor cripple?" "certainly not, you good, kind girl! perhaps we may some day meet again." with these words antinous hurried down the hill and through the town to the nile. the moon had risen and was mirrored in the rough water. just so had its image played upon the waves when antinous had rescued selene from the sea. the lad knew that hadrian would be expecting him, still he did not seek his tent. a violent emotion had overpowered him; he restlessly paced up and down the river-bank rapidly reviewing in his memory the more prominent incidents of his past life. he seemed to hear again every word of the dialogue that had taken place yesterday between hadrian and himself. before his inward eye he saw once more his humble home in bithynia, his mother, his brothers and sisters whom he should never see again. once more he lived through the dreadful hour when he had deceived his beloved master and had been an incendiary. an overmastering dread fell upon him as he thought of hadrian's wish to put him in the place of the man whom the prudent sovereign had chosen as his successor--a choice that was perhaps the direct outcome of his own crime. he, antinous, who to-day could not think of the morrow, who always kept out of the way of the discourse of grave men because he found it so hard to follow their meaning, he who knew nothing but how to obey, he who was never happy but alone with his master and his dreaming, far from the bustle of the world --he, to be burdened with the purple, with anxiety, with a mountain-load of responsibility! no, no; the idea was unheard-of--impossible! and yet hadrian never gave up a wish he had once expressed in words. the future loomed before his soul like some overpowering foe. suffering, unrest, and misfortune stared him in the face, turn which way he would. what was the hideous fatality that threatened his sovereign? it was approaching, it must come if no one--aye, if no one should be found to stand between him and the impending blow, and to receive in his own breast--in his own heart, bared to receive the wound--the spear hurled by the vengeful god. and he--he, and he alone was the one who might do this. the thought flashed into his mind like a sudden blaze of light; and if he should find the courage to devote himself to death for his dear master all his sins against him would be expiated; then--then--oh, how lovely a thought!--then might he not find entrance into the gates of that realm of bliss which selene's prayers had opened to him? there he would see his mother again and his father, and by and bye his brothers and sisters--but now, at once in a few minutes her whom he loved and who had trodden the ways of death before him. an exquisite sense of hope such as he had never felt before flooded his soul. there lay the nile--here was a boat. he gave it a strong push into the stream and with a powerful leap, as when hunting he had often sprung from rock to rock, he jumped into the boat. he had just seized an oar when mastor, who had been desired by the emperor to seek him, recognized him in the moonlight and desired him to return with him to the tents. but antinous did not obey. as he pushed out into the stream he called out: "greet my lord from me--greet him lovingly, a thousand times, and tell him antinous loved him more than his life. fate demands a victim. the world cannot dispense with hadrian, but antinous is a mere nonentity, whom none will miss but caesar, and for him antinous flings himself into the jaws of death." "stay-stop! hapless boy, come back!" shouted the slave, and leaping into a boat he followed that of the bithynian, which, impelled by strong and steady strokes, flew away into the current. mastor rowed with all his might, but he could not gain upon the boat he was pursuing. thus in a wild race both reached the middle of the stream. there, the slave saw antinous fling away his oar, and an instant later he heard antinous call loudly on the name of selene, and then, in helpless inactivity, he saw the lad glide into the waters, and the nile swallowed in its flood the noblest and fairest of victims. chapter xxii a night and a day had slipped away since the death of the bithynian. ships and boats from every part of the province had collected before besa to seek for the body of the drowned youth, the shores swarmed with men, and cressets and torches had dimmed the moonlight on river and shore all through the night; but they had not yet succeeded in finding the body of the beautiful youth. hadrian had heard in what way antinous had perished. he had required mastor to repeat to him more than once the last words of his faithful companion and neither to add nor to omit a single syllable. hadrian's accurate memory cherished them all and now he had sat till dawn and from dawn till the sun had reached the meridian, repeating them again and again to him self. he sat gloomily brooding and would neither eat nor drink. the misfortune which had threatened him had fallen--and what a grief was this! if indeed fate would accept the anguish he now felt in the place of all other suffering it might have had in store for him he might look forward to years free from care, but he felt as though he would rather have spent the remainder of his existence in sorrow and misery with his antinous by his side than enjoy, without him, all that men call happiness, peace and prosperity. sabina and her escort had arrived-a host of men; but he had strictly ordered that no one, not even his wife, was to be admitted to his presence. the comfort of tears was denied him, but his grief gripped him at the heart, clouded his brain and made hint so irritably sensitive that an unfamiliar voice, though even at a distance, disturbed him and made him angry. the party who had arrived by water were not allowed to occupy the tents which had been pitched for them not far from his, because he desired to be alone, quite alone, with his anguish of spirit. mastor, whom he had hitherto regarded rather a useful chattel than as a human creature, now grew nearer to him--had he not been the one witness of his darling's strange disappearance. towards the close of this, the most miserable night he had ever known, the slave asked him whether he should not fetch the physician from the ships, he looked so pale; but hadrian forbade it. "if i could only cry like a woman," he said, "or like other fathers whose sons are snatched away by death, that would he the best remedy. you poor souls will have a bad time now, for the sun of my life has lost its light and the trees by the way-side have lost their verdure." when he was alone once more he sat staring into vacancy and muttered to himself: "all mankind should mourn with me for if i had been asked yesterday how perfect a beauty might be bestowed on one of their race i could have pointed proudly to you, my faithful boy and have said, 'beauty like that of the gods.' now the crown is cut off from the trunk of the palm and the maimed thing can only be ashamed of its deformity; and if all humanity were but one man it would look like one who has had his right eye torn out. i will not look on the monsters, lean and fat, that they may not spoil my taste for the true type! oh faithful, lovable, beautiful boy! what a blind, mad fool have you been! and yet i cannot blame your madness. you have pierced my soul with the deepest thrust of all and yet i cannot even be angry with you. superhuman! godlike was your faithful devotion. aye, indeed, it was!" as he thus spoke he rose from his seat and went on resolutely and decidedly: "here i stretch out this my right hand-hear me, ye immortals! every city in the empire shall raise an altar to antinous, and the friend of whom you have robbed me i will make your equal and companion. receive him tenderly, oh, ye undying rulers of the world! which among you can boast of beauty greater than his? and which of you ever displayed so much goodness and faithfulness as your new associate?" this vow seemed to have given hadrian some comfort. for above half an hour he paced his tent with a firmer tread, then he desired that heliodorus his secretary might be called. the greek wrote what his sovereign dictated. this was nothing less than that henceforth the world should worship a new divinity in the person of antinous. at noonday a messenger in breathless haste came to say that the body of the bithynian had been found. thousands flocked to see the corpse, and among them balbilla, who had behaved like a distracted creature when she heard to what an end her idol had come. she had rushed up and down the river-bank, among the citizens and fishermen, dressed in black mourning robes and with her hair flying about her. the egyptians had compared her to the mourning isis seeking the body of her beloved husband, osiris. she was beside herself with grief, and her companion implored her in vain to calm herself and remember her rank and her dignity as a woman. but balbilla pushed her vehemently aside, and when the news was brought that nile had yielded up his prey she rushed on foot to see the body, with the rest of the crowd. her name was in every mouth, everyone knew that she was the empress' friend, and so she was willingly and promptly obeyed when she commanded the bearers who carried the bier on which the recovered body lay to set it down and to lift up the sheet which shrouded it. pale and trembling, she went up to it and gazed down at the drowned man; but only for a moment could she endure the sight. she turned away with a shudder, and desired the bearers to go on. when the funeral procession had disappeared and she could no longer hear the shrill wailing of the egyptian women, and no longer see them streaking their breast, head, and hair with damp earth and flinging up their arms wildly in the air, she turned to her companion and said calmly: "now, claudia, let us go home." in the evening at supper she appeared dressed in black, like sabina and all the rest of the suite, but she was calm and ready with an answer to every observation. pontius had travelled with them from thebes to besa, and she had spared him nothing that could punish him for his long absence, and had mercilessly compelled him to listen to all her verses on antinous. he meanwhile had been perfectly cool about it, and had criticised her poems exactly as if they had referred not to a man of flesh and blood but to some statue or god. this epigram he would praise, the next he would disparage, a third condemn. her confession that she had been in the habit of complimenting antinous with flowers and fruit he heard with a shrug of the shoulders, saying pleasantly: "give him as many presents as you will; i know that you expect no gifts from your divinity in return for your sacrifices." his words had surprised and delighted her. pontius always understood her, and did not deserve that she should wound him. so she let him gaze into her soul, and told him how much she loved antinous so long as he was absent. then she laughed and confessed that she was perfectly indifferent to him as soon as they were together. when, after the bithynian's death, she lost all self-control he simply let her alone, and begged claudia to do the same. the same day that the body was found it was burnt on a pile of precious wood. hadrian had refused to see it when he learnt that the death by drowning had terribly distorted the lad's features. a few hours after the ashes of the bithynian had been collected and brought in a golden vase to hadrian, the nile fleet was once more under sail, this time with the emperor on board one of the boats, to proceed without farther halt to alexandria. hadrian remained alone with only his slave and his secretary on the boat that conveyed him; but he several times sent to pontius to desire him to come from the ship on which he was and visit him on his. he liked to hear the architect's deep voice, and discussed with him the plans which pontius had sketched for his mausoleum in rome and the monument to his lost favorite which he proposed to have erected from designs of his own in the large city which he intended should stand on the site of the little town of besa, and which he had already named antinoe. but these discussions only took up a limited number of hours, and then the architect was at liberty to return to sabina's boat, on which balbilla also lived. a few days after they had quitted besa he was sitting alone with the poetess on the deck of the nile boat which, borne by the current and propelled by a hundred oars, was rapidly and steadily nearing its destination. ever since the death of the hapless favorite pontius had avoided mentioning him to her. she had now become as observant and as talkative as before, and in her eyes there even shone at times a ray of the old sunny gayety of her nature. the architect thought he comprehended the characteristic change in her sentiments, and would not allude to the cause of the violent but transient fever under which she had suffered. "what did you discuss with caesar to-day?" asked balbilla of her friend. pontius looked down at the ground and considered whether he could venture to utter the name of antinous before the poetess. balbilla observed his hesitation and said: "speak on; i can hear anything. that folly is past and over." "caesar is at work at the plans for a new town to be built and called antinoe, and a sketch for a monument to his ill-fated favorite," said pontius. "he will not accept any help, but i have to teach him to discriminate what is possible from what is impossible." "ah! he is always gazing at the stars and you look steadily at the road on which you are walking." "an architect can make no use of anything that is unsteady or that has no firm foundation." "that is a hard saying, pontius. it is true that during the last few weeks i have behaved like a fool." "i only wish that every tottering structure could recover its balance as quickly and as certainly as you! antinous was a demigod for beauty, and a good faithful fellow besides." "do not speak of him any more," exclaimed balbilla shuddering. "he looked dreadful. can you forgive me for my conduct?" "i never was angry with you." "but i lost your esteem." "no, balbilla. beauty, which is dear to us all, and which the muse has kissed, attracted your easily moved poet's soul and it fluttered off at random. let it fly! my friend's true womanly nature was never carried away by it. she stands on a rock, that i am sure of." "how good and kind in you to say so--too good, too kind! for i am a feeble creature, turned by every breeze that blows, a vain little fool who does not know one hour what she may do the next, a spoilt child that likes best to do the thing it ought to leave undone, a weak girl who finds a pleasure in doing battle with men. for all in all--" "for all in all a darling of the gods who to-day can climb the rocks with a firm step and to-morrow lies dreaming in the sunshine among flowers-for all in all a nature that has no equal and which lacks nothing, nothing whatever that constitutes a true woman excepting--" "i know what i lack," cried balbilla. "a strong man on whom i can depend, whose warnings i can respect. you, you are that man; you and none other, for as soon as i feel you by my side i find it difficult to do what i know to be wrong. here i am, pontius! will you have me with all my moods, with all my faults and weaknesses?" "balbilla!" cried the architect, beside himself with heartfelt agitation and surprise, and he pressed her hand long and fervently to-his lips. "you will? you will take me? you will never leave me, you will warn, support me and protect me?" "till my last day, till death, as my child, as the apple of my eye, as-dare i say it and believe it?--as my love, my second self, my wife." "oh! pontius, pontius," she exclaimed, grasping his broad, right hand in both her own. "this hour restores to the orphaned balbilla, father and mother and gives her besides the husband that she loves." "mine, mine!" cried the architect. "immortal gods! during half a lifetime i have never found time, in the midst of labor and fatigue, to indulge in the joys of love and now you give me with interest and compound interest the treasure you have so long withheld." "how can you, a reasonable man, so over-estimate the value of your possession? but you shall find some good in it. life can no longer be conceived of as worth having without the possessor." "and to me it has so long seemed empty and cold without you, you strange, unique, incomparable creature." "but why did you not come sooner, and so give me no time to behave like a fool?" "because, because," said pontius, gravely, "such a flight towards the sun seemed to me too bold; because i remember that my father's father--" "he was the noblest man that the ancestor of my house attracted to its greatness." "he was--consider it duly at this moment--he was your grandfather's slave." "i know it, but i also know, that there is not a man on earth who is worthier of freedom than you are, or whom i could ask as humbly as i ask you: take me, poor, foolish balbilla, to be your wife, guide me and make of me whatever you can, for your own honor and mine." the brief nile voyage brought days and hours of the highest happiness to balbilla and her lover. before the fleet sailed into the mareotic harbor of alexandria, pontius revealed his happy secret to the emperor. hadrian smiled for the first time since the death of his favorite, and desired the architect to bring balbilla to him. "i was wrong in my interpretation of the pythian oracle," said he, as he laid the poetess's hand in that of pontius. "would you like to know how it runs pontius--do not prompt me, my child. anything that i have read through once or twice i never forget. pythia said: 'that which thou boldest most precious and dear shall be torn from thy keeping, and from the heights of olympus, down shalt thou fall in the dust; still the contemplative eye discerns under mutable sand-drifts stable foundations of stone, marble and natural rock.' "you have chosen well girl. the oracle guaranteed you a safe road to tread through life. as to the dust of which it speaks, it exists no doubt in a certain sense, but this hand wields the broom that will sweep it away. solemnize your marriage in alexandria as soon as you will, but then come to rome, that is the only condition i impose. a thing i always have at heart is the introduction of new and worthy members into the class of knights, for it is in that way alone that its fallen dignity can be restored. this ring, my pontius, gives you the rank of eques, and such a man as you are, the husband of balbilla and the friend of caesar may no doubt by-and-bye find a seat in the senate. what this generation can produce in stone and marble, my mausoleum shall bear witness to. have you altered the plan of the bridge?" chapter xxiii. in alexandria the news of the nomination of the "sham eros" to be the emperor's successor was hailed with joy, and the citizens availed themselves gladly of his fresh and favorable opportunity to hold one festival after another. titianus took care to provide for the due performance of the usual acts of grace, and among others he threw open the prison-gates of canopus, and the sculptor pollux was set at liberty. the hapless artist had grown pale, it is true, in durance vile, but neither leaner nor enfeebled in body; on the other hand all the vigor of his intellect, all his bright courage for life and his happy creative instinct, seemed altogether crushed out of him. his face, as in his dirty and ragged chiton, he journeyed from canopus to alexandria, revealed neither eager thankfulness for the unexpected boon of liberty, nor happiness at the prospect of seeing again his own people and arsinoe. in the town he went, unintelligently dreaming as he walked, from one street to another, but he was familiar with every stone of the way, and his feet found their way to his sister's house. how happy was diotima, how her children rejoiced, how impatient was each one to conduct him to the old folks! how high in the air the graces frisked and leaped in front of the new little home to welcome the returned absentee! and doris, poor doris, almost fainted with joyful surprise and her husband had to support her in his arms when her long vanished son, whom she had never given up for lost, however, suddenly stood before her and said: "here am i." how fondly she kissed and caressed her dear, cruel, restored fugitive. the singer too loudly expressed his joy alike in verse and in prose, and fetched his best theatrical dress out of the chest to put it on his son in the place of his ragged chiton. a mighty torrent of curses and execrations flowed from the old man's lips as pollux told his story. the sculptor found it difficult to bring it to an end, for his father interrupted him at every word, and all the while he was talking his mother forced him to eat and drink incessantly, even when he could no more. after he had assured her that he was long since replete, she pushed two more pots on to the fire, for he must have been half-starved in prison, and what he did not want now he would find room for two hours hence. euphorion himself conducted pollux to the bath in the evening, and as they went home together he never for an instant left his side; the sense of being near him did him good and was like some comfortable physical sensation. the singer was not usually inquisitive, but on this occasion he never ceased asking questions till doris led her son to the bed she had freshly made for him. after the artist had gone to rest, the old woman once more slipped into his room, kissed his forehead, and said: "to-day you have still been thinking too much of that hideous prison--but to-morrow my boy, to-morrow you will be the same as before, will you not?" "only leave me alone mother; i shall soon be better," he replied. "this bed is as good as a sleeping-draught; the plank in the prison was quite a different thing." "you have never asked once for your arsinoe," said doris. "what can she matter to me? only let me sleep." but the next morning pollux was just the same as he had been the previous evening, and as the days went on his condition remained unchanged. his head drooped on his breast, he never spoke but when he was spoken to, and when doris or euphorion tried to talk to him of the future, he would ask: "am i a burden to you?" or begged them not to worry him. still, he was gentle and kind, took his sister's children in his arms, played with the graces, whistled to the birds, went in and out, and played a valiant part at every meal. now and again he would ask after arsinoe. once he allowed himself to be guided to the house where she lived, but he would not knock at paulina's door and seemed overawed by the grandeur of the house. after he had been brooding and dreaming for a week, so idle, listless, and absent that his mother's heart was filled with anxious fears every time she looked at him, his brother teuker hit upon a happy idea. the young gem-cutter was not usually a frequent visitor to his parents' house, but since the return of the hapless pollux he called there almost daily. his apprenticeship was over and he seemed on the high-road to become a great master in his art; nevertheless he esteemed his brother's gifts as far beyond his own and had tried to devise some means of reawakening the dormant energies of the luckless man's brain. "it was at this table," said teuker to his mother, "that pollux used to sit. this evening i will bring in a lump of clay and a good piece of modelling wax. just put it all on the table and lay his tools by the side of it; perhaps when he sees them he will take a fancy again to work. if he can only make up his mind to model even a doll for the children he will soon get into the vein again, and he will go on from small things to great." teuker brought the materials, doris set them out with the modelling tools, and next morning watched her son's proceedings with an anxious heart. he got up late, as be had always done since his return home, and sat a long time over the bowl of porridge which his mother had prepared for his breakfast. then he sauntered across to his table, stood in front of it awhile, broke off a piece of clay and kneaded and moulded it in his fingers into balls and cylinders, looked at one of them more closely and then, flinging it on the ground, he said, as he leaned across the table supporting himself on both hands to put his face near his mother's: "you want me to work again; but it is of no use--i could do no good with it." the old woman's eyes filled with tears, but she did not answer him. in the evening pollux begged her to put away the tools. when he was gone to bed she did so, and while she was moving about with a light in the dark, lumber-room in which she had kept them with other disused things, her eye fell on the unfinished wax model which had been the last work of her ill-starred son. a new idea struck her. she called euphorion, made him throw the clay into the court-yard and place the model on the table by the side of the wax. then she put out the very same tools as he had been using on the fateful day of their expulsion from lochias, close to the cleverly-sketched portrait, and begged her husband to go out with her quite early next morning and to remain absent till mid-day. "you will see," she said, "when he is standing face to face with his last work and there is no one by to disturb him or look at him, he will find the ends of the threads that have been cut and perhaps be able to gather them up again and go on with the work where it was interrupted." the mother's heart had hit upon the right idea. when pollux had eaten his breakfast he went to his table exactly as he had done the clay before; but the sight of the work in hand had quite a different effect to the mere raw clay and wax. his eyes sparkled; he walked round the table with an attentive gaze examining his work as keenly and as eagerly as if it were some fine thing he saw for the first time. memory revived in his mind. he laughed aloud, clasped his hands and said to himself, "capital! something may be made of that!" his dull weariness slipped off him, as it were; a confident smile parted his lips and he seized the wax with a firm hand. but he did not begin to work at once; he only tried whether his fingers had not lost their cunning, and whether the yielding material was obedient to his will. the wax was no less docile to his touch than in former days, as he pinched or pulled it. perhaps then the tormenting thought that blighted his life, the dread that in the prison he had ceased to be an artist, and had lost all his faculty was nothing more than a mad delusion! he must at any rate try how he could get on at the work. no one was by to observe him--he might dare the attempt at once. the sweat of anguish stood in large beads on his brow as he finally concentrated his volition, shook back the hair from his face and took up a lump of the wax in both hands. there stood the portrait of antinous with the head only half-finished. now--could he succeed in modelling that lovely head free-hand and from memory? his breath came fast, and his hands trembled as he set to work; but soon his hand was as steady as ever, his eye was calm and keen again, and the work progressed. the fine features of the young bithynian were distinct to his mind's eye, and when, about four hours after, his mother looked in at the window to see what pollux was doing, whether her little stratagem had succeeded, she cried out with surprise, for the favorite's bust, a likeness in every feature, stood on a plinth side by side with the original sketch. before she could cross the threshold her son had run to meet her, lifted her in his arms, and kissing her forehead and lips he exclaimed, radiant with delight: "mother, i still can work. mother, mother, i am not lost!" in the afternoon his brother came in and saw what he had been doing, and now--and not till now--could teuker honestly be glad to have found his brother again. while the two artists were sitting together, and the gem-cutter was suggesting to the sculptor, who had complained of the bad light in his parent's house, that he should carry the statue to his master's workshop --which was much lighter--to complete it, euphorion had quietly gone to some remote corner of his provision-shed and brought to light an amphora full of noble chian wine which had been given to him by a rich merchant, for whose wedding he had performed the part of hymenaeus with a chorus of youths. for twenty years had he still preserved this jar of wine for some specially happy occasion. this jar and his best lute were the only objects which euphorion had carried with his own hand from lochias to his daughter's house and then again to his own new abode. with an air of dignified pride the singer set the old amphora before his sons, but doris laid hands upon it at once and said: "i am glad to bestow the good gift upon you, and would willingly drink a cup of it with you; but a prudent general does not celebrate his triumph before he has won the battle. as soon as the statue of the beautiful lad is completed, i myself, will wreathe this venerable jar with ivy, and beg you spare it to us, my dear old man--but not before." "mother is right," said pollux. "and if the amphora is really destined for me, if you will allow it, my father shall not remove the pitch wig from its venerable head, till arsinoe is mine once more!" "that is well my boy," cried doris, "and then i will crown, not merely the jar but all of us too, with nothing but sweet roses." the next day pollux, with his unfinished statue, removed to the workshop of his brother's master. the worthy man cleared the best place for the young sculptor, for he thought highly of him and wished to make good, as far as lay in his power, the injustice the poor fellow had suffered from the treachery of papias. now, from sunrise till evening fell, pollux was constant to his work. he gave himself up to the resuscitated pleasure and power of creation with real passion. instead of using wax he had recourse to clay, and formed a tall figure which represented antinous as the youthful bacchus, as the god might have appeared to the pirates. a mantle fell in light folds from his left shoulder to his ankles, leaving the broad breast and right aria entirely free; vine-leaves and grapes wreathed his flowing locks, and a pine-cone, flame-shaped, crowned his brow. the left arm was raised in a graceful curve, and his fingers lightly grasped a thyrsus which rested on the ground and stood taller than the god's head; by the side of this magnificent figure stood a mighty wine-jar, half hidden by the drapery. for a whole week pollux had devoted himself to this task during all the hours of daylight with unflagging zeal and diligence. before night fell he was accustomed to leave his work and walk up and down in front of paulina's house, but for the present he refrained from knocking at the door and asking after the girl he loved. he had heard from his mother how anxiously she was guarded from him and his; still paulina's severity would certainly not have hindered the artist from making the attempt to possess himself of his dearest treasure. what held him back from even approaching arsinoe, was the vow he had made to himself never to tempt her to quit her new and sheltered home till he had acquired a firm certainty of being once for all an artist, a true artist, who might hope to do something great, and who might dare to link the fate of the woman he loved, with his own. when, on the eighth morning of his labors, he was taking a few minutes rest, his brother's master came past the rapidly advancing work, and after contemplating it for some time exclaimed: "splendid, splendid! our time has produced nothing to compare with it!" an hour later pollux was standing at the door of paulina's town-house, and let the knocker fall heavily on the door. the steward opened to him and asked him what he wanted. he asked to speak with dame paulina, but she was not at home. then he asked after arsinoe, the daughter of keraunus, who had found a home with the rich widow. the servant shook his head. "my mistress is having her searched for," he said. "she disappeared yesterday evening. the ungrateful creature! she has tried to run away several times before now." the artist laughed, slapped the steward on the back, and said: "i will soon find her!" and he sprang away down the street, and back to his parents. arsinoe had received much kindness in paulina's house, but she had also gone through many bad hours. for months she had been obliged to believe that her lover was dead. pontius had told her that pollux had entirely vanished and her benefactress persisted in al ways speaking of him as of one dead. the poor child had shed many tears for him, and when the longing to talk of him with some one who had known him had taken possession of her she had entreated paulina to allow her to go to see his mother or to let doris visit her. but the widow had desired her to give up all thought of the idol-maker and his belongings, speaking with contempt of the gate-keeper's worthy wife. just at that time selene also left the city, and now arsinoe's longing for her old friends grew to a passionate craving to see them again. one day she yielded to the promptings of her heart and slipped out into the street to seek doris; but the door-keeper, who had been charged by paulina never to allow her to go outside the door without his mistress's express permission, noticed her and brought her back to her protectress-not this time only, but, on several subsequent occasions when she attempted to escape. it was not merely her longing to talk about pollux which made her new home unendurable to arsinoe, but many other reasons besides. she felt like a prisoner; and in fact she was one, for after each attempt at flight her freedom of movement was still farther impeded. it is true that she had soon ceased to submit patiently to all that was required of her and even had often opposed her adoptive mother with vehement words, tears and execrations, but these unpleasant scenes, which always ended by a declaration on paulina's part that she forgave the girl, had always resulted in a long break in her drives and in a variety of small annoyances. arsinoe was beginning to hate her benefactress and everything that surrounded her, and the hours of catechising and of prayer, which she could not escape, were a positive martyrdom. ere long the doctrine to which paulina sought to win her was confounded in her mind with that which it was intended to drive out, and she defiantly shut her heart against it. bishop eumenes, who had been elected in the spring patriarch of the christians of alexandria, visited her oftener than usual during the summer when paulina lived in her suburban villa. paulina, it is true, had fancied she could do without his help, and that she could and must carry her task through to the end by herself; but the worthy old man had felt sympathetically drawn to the poor ill-guided child, and sought to soothe and calm her mind and show her the goal, towards which paulina desired to lead her, in all its beauty. after such discourses arsinoe would be softened and felt inclined to believe in god and to love christ, but no sooner had her protectress called her again into the school-room and put the very same things before her in her own way than the girl's heartstrings drew close again; and when she was desired to pray she raised her hands, indeed, but out of sheer defiance, she prayed in spirit to the greek gods. frequently paulina received visits from heathen acquaintances in rich dresses and the sight of them always reminded arsinoe of former days. how poor she had been then! and yet she had always had a blue or a red ribbon to plait in her hair and trim the edge of her peplum. now she might wear none but white dresses and the least scrap of colored ornament to dress her hair or smarten her robe was strictly forbidden. such vain trifles, paulina would say, were very well for the heathen, but the lord looked not at the body but at the heart. ah! and the poor little heart of the hapless child could not offer a very pleasing sight to the father in heaven, for hatred and disgust, sadness, impatience, and blasphemy seethed in it from morning till night. this young nature was surely formed for love and contentment, and both had left her weeping. still arsinoe never ceased to yearn for them. when november had begun and another attempt to run away during their move back to the town-house had failed, paulina tried to punish her by never speaking a word to her for a fortnight, and forbidding even the slavewomen to speak to her. in these two weeks the talkative girl was reduced almost to desperation, and she even thought of throwing herself off the roof down into the court-yard. but she clung too dearly to life to carry this horrible project into execution. on the first of december paulina once more spoke to her, forgave her ingratitude, as usual in a long, kind speech, and told her how many hours she had spent in praying for her enlightenment and improvement. paulina spoke the truth, and yet but half the truth, for she had never felt a real love for arsinoe, and had now for a long time watched her come and go with actual dislike; but she required her conversion in order that the warmest wish of her heart might find fulfilment. it was for the happiness of her daughter, and not for the sake of her recalcitrant companion, that she prayed for her enlightenment and never ceased in her efforts to open the callous heart of her adopted child to the true faith. in the afternoon preceding that morning when pollux had at last knocked at the christian widow's door, the sun shone with particular brilliancy, and paulina had allowed the girl to go out with her. they spent some little time with a christian family who dwelt on the shore of lake mareotis, and so it fell out that they did not return home till late in the evening. arsinoe had long learnt, while she sat apparently gazing at the ground, to keep her eyes out of the carriage and to see everything that was going on around her; and as the chariot turned into their own street she spied in the distance a tall man who looked like her long-wept pollux. she fixed her eyes upon him, and had some difficulty in keeping herself from calling out aloud, for he it was who walked slowly down the street. she could not be mistaken, for the torches of two slaves who were walking in front of a litter had broadly lighted up his face and figure. he was not lost--he was living, and seeking her. she could have shouted aloud for joy, but she did not stir till paulina's chariot was standing still in front of her house. the door-keeper bustled out as usual to help his mistress to step out of the high-slung vehicle. thus paulina for an instant turned her back, and in that moment arsinoe sprang out of the opposite side of the chariot, and was flying down towards the street where she had seen her lover. before paulina could discover that she was gone the runaway found herself in the midst of the throng which, when the day's work was over, poured out from the workshops and factories on their way home. paulina's slaves, who were sent out at once to seek the fugitive, had to return home this time empty-handed; but arsinoe, on her part, had not succeeded in finding him she sought. for an hour she looked round and about her in vain; then she perceived that her search must be unsuccessful, and wondered how she might find her way to his parents' house. rather than return to her benefactress she would have joined the roofless crew who passed the night on the hard marble pavement of the forecourts of the temple. at first she rejoiced in the sense of recovered liberty, but when none of the passers-by could tell her where euphorion, the singer, lived, and some young men followed her and addressed her with impudent speeches, terror made her turn aside into a street which led to the bruchiom; her persecutors had not even then ceased to follow her, when a litter, escorted by lictors and several torch-bearers, was carried past. it was julia, the kind wife of the prefect, who sat in it; arsinoe recognized her at once, followed her, and reached the door of her residence at the same moment as she herself. as the matron got out of her litter she observed the girl who placed herself modestly, but with hands uplifted in entreaty, at the side of her path. julia greeted the pretty creature in whom she had once taken a motherly interest with affectionate sympathy, beckoned arsinoe to her, smiled as she listened to her request for a night's shelter, and led her with much satisfaction to her husband. titianus was ill; still he was glad once more to see the ill-fated palace-steward's pretty daughter; he listened to her story of her flight with many signs of disapprobation, but kindly withal, and expressed the warmest satisfaction at hearing that the sculptor pollux was still in the land of the living. the grand and lordly bed in one of the strangers' rooms in the prefect's house had held many a more illustrious guest, but never one whose sleep was brightened by happier dreams than the poor orphaned "little fugitive," who, no longer ago than yesterday, had cried herself to sleep. chapter xxiv. arsinoe was up betimes on the following morning; much embarrassed by all the splendor that surrounded her, she walked up and down her room thinking of pollux. then she stopped to take pleasure in her own image displayed in a large mirror which stood on a dressing-table, and between whiles she compared the couch, on which she lay clown again at full length, with those in paulina's house. once more she felt herself a prisoner, but this time she liked her prison, and presently, when she heard slaves passing by her room, she flew to the door to listen, for it was just possible that titianus might have sent to fetch pollux, and would allow him to come to see her. at last a slave-woman came in, brought her some breakfast, and desired her from julia to go into the garden and look at the flowers and aviaries till she should be sent for. early that morning the news had reached the prefect that antinous had sought his death in the nile, and it had shocked him greatly, less on account of the hapless youth than for hadrian's sake. when he had given the proper officials orders to announce the melancholy news and to desire the citizens to give some public expression of their sympathy with the emperor's sorrow, he gave audience to the patriarch eumenes. this venerable man, ever since the transactions which he had conducted-with reference to the thanksgiving of the christians for the safety of the emperor after the fire, had been one of the most esteemed friends of titianus and julia. the prefect discussed with the patriarch the inauspicious effects that the death of the young fellow might be expected to have on the emperor, and as a result, on the government, although the favorite had had no qualities of mind to distinguish him. "whenever hadrian," continued titianus, "would give his unresting brain an hour's relaxation, and release himself from disappointment and vexation and the severe toil and anxiety of which his life is overfull, be would go out hunting with the bold youth or would have the handsome, good-hearted boy into his own room. the sight of the bithynian's beauty delighted his eye, and how well antinous knew how to listen to him-silent, modest and attentive! hadrian loved him as a son, and the poor fellow clung to his master in return with more than a son's fidelity; his death itself proved it. caesar himself said to me once; "in the midst of the turmoil of waking life, when i see antinous a feeling comes over me as if a beautiful dream stood incorporate before my eyes." "caesar's grief at losing him must indeed be great," said the patriarch. "and the loss will add to the gloom of his grave and brooding nature, render his restless scheming and wandering still more capricious, and increase his suspiciousness and irritability." "and the circumstances under which antinous perished," added eumenes, "will afford new ground for his attachment to superstitions." "that is to be feared. we have not happy days before us; the revolt in judaea, too, will again cost thousands of lives." "if only it had been granted to you to assume the government of that province." "but you know, my worthy friend, the condition i am in. on my bad days i am incapable of commanding a thought or opening my lips. when my breathlessness increases i feel as if i were being suffocated. i have placed many decades of my life at the disposal of the state, and i now feel justified in devoting the diminished strength which is left me to other things. i and my wife think of retiring to my property by lake larius, and there to try whether we may succeed, she and i, in becoming worthy of the salvation and capable of apprehending the truth that you have offered us. you are there julia? as the determination to retire from the world has matured in us, we have, both of us, remembered more than once the words of the jewish sage, which you lately told us of. when the angel of god drove the first man out of paradise, he said: 'henceforth your heart must be your paradise.' we are turning our backs on the pleasure of a city life--" "and we do so without regret," said julia, interrupting her husband, "for we bear in our minds the germ of a more indestructible, purer, and more lasting happiness." "amen!" said the patriarch. "where two such as you dwell together there the lord is third in the bond." "give us your disciple marcianus to be our travelling-companion," said titianus. "willingly," said eumenes. "shall he come to visit you when i leave you?" "not immediately," replied julia. "i have this morning an important and at the same time pleasant business to attend to. you know paulina, the widow of pudeus. she took into her keeping a pretty young creature--" "and arsinoe has run away from her." "we took her in here," said titianus. "her protectress seems to have failed in attracting her to her, or in working favorably on her nature." "yes," said the patriarch. "there was but one key to her full, bright heart--love--but paulina tried to force it open with coercion and persistent driving. it remained closed--nay, the lock is spoiled.--but, if i may ask, how came the girl into your house?" "that i can tell you later, we did not make her acquaintance for the first time yesterday." "and i am going to fetch her lover to her," cried the prefect's wife. "paulina will claim her of you," said the patriarch. "she is having her sought for everywhere; but the child will never thrive under her guidance." "did the widow formally adopt arsinoe?" asked titianus. "no; she proposed doing so as soon as her young pupil--" "intentions count for nothing in law, and i can protect our pretty little guest against her claim." "i will fetch her," said julia. "the time must certainly have seemed very long to her already. will you come with me, eumenes?" "with pleasure," replied the old man, "arsinoe and i are excellent friends; a conciliatory word from me will do her good, and my blessing cannot harm even a heathen. farewell, titianus, my deacons are expecting me." when julia returned to the sitting-room with her protegee, the child's eyes were wet with tears, for the kind words of the venerable old man had gone to her heart and she knew and acknowledged that she had experienced good as well as evil from paulina. the matron found her husband no longer alone. wealthy old plutarch with his two supporters was with him, and in black garments, which were decorated with none but white flowers, instead of many colored garments; he presented a singular appearance. the old man was discoursing eagerly to the prefect; but as soon as he saw arsinoe he broke off his harangue, clapped his hands and was quite excited with the pleasure of seeing once more the fair roxana for whom he had once visited in vain all the goldworkers' shops in the city. "but i am tired," cried plutarch, with quite youthful vivacity, "i am quite tired of keeping the ornaments for you. there are quite enough other useless things in my house. they belong to you, not to me, and this very day i will send them to the noble julia, that she may give them to you. give me your hand, dear child; you have grown paler but more womanly. what do you think, titianus, she would still do for roxana; only your wife must find a dress for her again. all in white, and no ribband in your hair!--like a christian." "i know some one who will find out the way to fitly crown these soft tresses," replied julia. "arsinoe is the bride of pollux, the sculptor." "pollux!" exclaimed plutarch, in extreme excitement. "move me forward, antaeus and atlas, the sculptor pollux is her lover? a great, a splendid artist! the very same, noble titianus, of whom i just now speaking to you." "you know him?" asked the prefect's wife. "no, but i have just left the work-shop of periander, the gem-cutter, and there i saw the model of a statue of antinous that is unique, marvellous, incomparable! the bithynian as dionysus! the work would do no discredit to a phidias, to a lysippus. pollux was out of the way, but i laid my hand at once on his work; the young master must execute it immediately in marble. hadrian will be enchanted with this portrait of his beautiful and devoted favorite. you must admire it, every connoisseur must! i will pay for it, the only question is whether i or the city should present it to caesar. this matter your husband must decide." arsinoe was radiant with joy at these words, but she stepped modestly into the background as an official came in and handed titianus a dispatch that had just arrived. the prefect read it; then turning to his friend and his wife, he said: "hadrian ascribes to antinous the honors of a god." "fortunate pollux!" exclaimed plutarch. "he has executed the first statue of the new divinity. i will present it to the city, and they shall place it in the temple to antinous of which we must lay the first stone before caesar is back here again. farewell, my noble friends! greet your bridegroom from me, my child. his work belongs to me. pollux will be the first among his fellow-artists, and it has been my privilege to discover this new star--the eighth artist whose merit i have detected while he was still unknown. your future brother-in-law too, teuker, will turn out well. i am having a stone cut by him with a portrait of antinous. once more farewell; i must go to the council. we shall have to discuss the subject of a temple to the new divinity. move on you two!" an hour after plutarch had quitted the prefect's house julia's chariot was standing at the entrance of a lane, much too narrow to admit a vehicle with horses, and which ended in a little plot on which stood euphorion's humble house. julia's outrunners easily found out the residence of the sculptor's parents, led the matron and arsinoe to the spot, and showed them the door they should knock at. "what a color you have, my little girl!" said julia. "well, i will not intrude on your meeting, but i should like to deliver you with my own hand into those of your future mother. go to that little house, arctus, and beg dame doris to step out here. only say that some one wishes to speak with her, but do not mention my name." arsinoe's heart beat so violently that she was incapable of saying a word of thanks to her kind protectress. "step behind this palm-tree," said the lady. arsinoe obeyed; but she felt as though it was some outside volition, and not her own, that guided her to her hiding-place. she heard nothing of the first words spoken by the roman lady and doris. she only saw the dear old face of her pollux's mother, and in spite of her reddened eyes and the wrinkles which trouble had furrowed in her face, she could not tire of looking at it. it reminded her of the happiest days of her childhood, and she longed to rush forward and throw her arms round the neck of the kindly, good-hearted woman. then she heard julia say: "i have brought her to you. she is just as sweet and as maidenly and lovely as she was the first time we saw her in the theatre." "where is she? where is she?" asked doris in a trembling voice. julia pointed to the palm, and was about to call arsinoe, but the girl could no longer restrain her longing to fall on the neck of some one dear to her, for pollux had come out of the door to see who had asked for his mother, and to see him and to fly to his breast with a cry of joy had been one and the same act to arsinoe. julia gazed at the couple with moistened eyes, and when, after many kind words for old and young alike, she took leave of the happy group, she said: "i will provide for your outfit my child, and this time i think you will wear it, not merely for one transient hour but through a long and happy life." joyful singing sounded out that evening from euphorion's little home. doris and her husband, and pollux and arsinoe, diotima and teuker, decked with garlands, reclined round the amphora which was wreathed with roses, drinking to pleasure and joy, to art and love, and to all the gifts of the present. the sweet bride's long hair was once more plaited with handsome blue ribbons. three weeks after these events hadrian was again in alexandria. he kept aloof from all the festivals instituted in honor of the new god antinous, and smiled incredulously when he was told that a new star had appeared in the sky, and that an oracle had declared it to be the soul of his lost favorite. when plutarch conducted the emperor and his friends to see the bacchus antinous, which pollux had completed in the clay, hadrian was deeply struck and wished to know the name of the master who had executed this noble work of art. not one of his companion's had the courage to speak the name of pollux in his presence; only pontius ventured to come forward for his young friend. he related to hadrian the hapless artist's history and begged him to forgive him. the emperor nodded his approval, and said: "for the sake of this lost one he shall be forgiven." pollux was brought into his presence, and hadrian, holding out his hand said as he pressed the sculptor's: "the immortals have bereft me of his love and faithfulness, but your art has preserved his beauty for me and for the world--" every city in the empire vied in building temples and erecting statues to the new god, and pollux, arsinoe's happy husband, was commissioned to execute statues and busts of antinous for a hundred towns; but he refused most of the orders, and would send out no work as his own that he had not executed himself on a new conception. his master, papias, returned to alexandria, but he was received there by his fellow-artists with such insulting contempt, that in an evil hour he destroyed himself. teuker lived to be the most famous gem-engraver of his time. soon after selene's martyrdom dame hannah quitted besa; the office of superior of the deaconesses at alexandria was intrusted to her, and she exercised it with much blessing till an advanced age. mary, the deformed girl, remained behind in the nile-port, which under hadrian was extended into the magnificent city of antmoe. there were there two graves from which she could not bear to part. four years after arsinoe's marriage with pollux, hadrian called the young sculptor to rome; he was there to execute the statue of the emperor in a quadriga. this work was intended to crown and finish his mausoleum constructed by pontius, and pollux carried it out in so admirable a manner, that when it was ended, hadrian said to him with a smile: "now you have earned the right to pronounce sentence of death on the works of other masters." euphorion's son lived in honor and prosperity to see his children, the children of his faithful wife arsinoe--who was greatly admired by the tiber-grow up to be worthy citizens. they remained heathen; but the christian love which eumenes had taught paulina's foster-daughter was never forgotten, and she kept a kindly place for it in her heart and in her household. a few months before the young couple left alexandria, doris had peacefully gone to her last rest, and her husband died soon after her; the want of his faithful companion was the complaint he succumbed to. on the shores of the tiber, pontius was still the sculptor's friend. balbilla and her husband gave their corrupt fellow-citizens the example of a worthy, faithful marriage on the old roman pattern. the poetess's bust had been completed by pollux in alexandria, and with all its tresses and little curls, it found favor in balbilla's eyes. verus was to have enjoyed the title of caesar even during hadrian's lifetime, but after a long illness he died the first. lucilla nursed him with unfailing devotion and enjoyed the longed-for monopoly of his attentions through a period of much suffering. it was on their son that in later years the purple devolved. the predictions of the prefect titianus were fulfilled, for the emperor's faults increased with years and the meaner side of his mind and nature came into sharper relief. titianus and his wife led a retired life by lake larius, far from the world, and both were baptized before they died. they never pined for the turmoil of a pleasure-seeking world or its dazzling show, for they had learnt to cherish in their own hearts all that is fairest in life. it was the slave mastor who brought to titianus the news of the sovereign's death. hadrian had given him his freedom before he died and had left him a handsome legacy. the prefect gave him a piece of land to farm and continued in friendly relations with his christian neighbor and his pretty daughter, who grew up among her father's co-religionists. when titianus had told his wife the melancholy news he added solemnly: "a great sovereign is dead. the pettinesses which disfigured the man hadrian will be forgotten by posterity, for the ruler hadrian was one of those men whom fate sets in the places they belong to, and who, true to their duty, struggle indefatigably to the end. with wise moderation he was so far master of himself as to bridle his ambition and to defy the blame and prejudice of all the romans. the hardest, and perhaps the wisest, resolution of his life was to abandon the provinces which it would have exhausted the power of the empire to retain. he travelled over every portion of his dominion within the limits he himself had set to it, shrinking from neither frost nor heat, and he tried to be as thoroughly acquainted with every portion of it as if the empire were a small estate he had inherited. his duties as a sovereign forced him to travel, and his love of travel lightened the duty. he was possessed by a real passion to understand and learn everything. even the incomprehensible set no limits to his thirst for knowledge, but ever striving to see farther and to dig deeper than is possible to the mind of man, he wasted a great part of his mighty powers in trying to snatch aside the curtain which hides the destinies of the future. no one ever worked at so many secondary occupations as he, and yet no former emperor ever kept his eye so unerringly fixed on the main task of his life, the consolidation and maintenance of the strength of the state and the improvement and prosperity of its citizens." etext editor's bookmarks: incomprehensible set no limits to his thirst for knowledge you must admire it, every connoisseur must this ebook was produced by david widger <widger@cecomet.net> a thorny path by georg ebers volume 12. chapter xxxiv. caracalla's evening meal was ended, and for years past his friends had never seen the gloomy monarch in so mad a mood. the high-priest of serapis, with dio cassius the senator, and a few others of his suite, had not indeed appeared at table; but the priest of alexander, the prefect macrinus, his favorites theocritus, pandion, antigonus, and others of their kidney, had crowded round him, had drunk to his health, and wished him joy of his glorious revenge. everything which legend or history had recorded of similar deeds was compared with this day's work, and it was agreed that it transcended them all. this delighted the half-drunken monarch. to-day, he declared with flashing eyes, and not till to-day, he had dared to be entirely what fate had called him to be--at once the judge and the executioner of an accursed and degenerate race. as titus had been named "the good," so he would be called "the terrible." and this day had secured him that grand name, so pleasing to his inmost heart. "hail to the benevolent sovereign who would fain be terrible!" cried theocritus, raising his cup; and the rest of the guests echoed him. then the number of the slain was discussed. no one could estimate it exactly. zminis, the only man who could have seen everything, had not appeared: fifty, sixty, seventy thousand alexandrians were supposed to have suffered death; macrinus, however, asserted that there must have been more than a hundred thousand, and caracalla rewarded him for his statement by exclaiming loudly "splendid! grand! hardly comprehensible by the vulgar mind! but, even so, it is not the end of what i mean to give them. to-day i have racked their limbs; but i have yet to strike them to the heart, as they have stricken me!" he ceased, and after a short pause repeated unhesitatingly, and as though by a sudden impulse, the lines with which euripides ends several of his tragedies: "jove in high heaven dispenses various fates; and now the gods shower blessings which our hope dared not aspire to, now control the ills we deemed inevitable. thus the god to these hath given an end we never thought." --potter's translation. and this was the end of the revolting scene, for, as he spoke, caesar pushed away his cup and sat staring into vacancy, so pale that his physician, foreseeing a fresh attack, brought out his medicine vial. the praetorian prefect gave a signal to the rest that they should not notice the change in their imperial host, and he did his best to keep the conversation going, till caracalla, after a long pause, wiped his brow and exclaimed hoarsely: "what has become of the egyptian? he was to bring in the living prisoners--the living, i say! let him bring me them." he struck the table by his couch violently with his fist; and then, as if the clatter of the metal vessels on it had brought him to himself, he added, meditatively: "a hundred thousand! if they burned their dead here, it would take a forest to reduce them to ashes." "this day will cost him dear enough as it is," the high-priest of alexander whispered; he, as idiologos, having to deposit the tribute from the temples and their estates in the imperial treasury. he addressed his neighbor, old julius paulinus, who replied: "charon is doing the best business to-day. a hundred thousand obolus in a few hours. if tarautas reigns over us much longer, i will farm his ferry!" during this whispered dialogue theocritus the favorite was assuring caesar in a loud voice that the possessions of the victims would suffice for any form of interment, and an ample number of thank-offerings into the bargain. "an offering!" echoed caracalla, and he pointed to a short sword which lay beside him on the couch. "that helped in the work. my father wielded it in many a fight, and i have not let it rust. still, i doubt whether in my hands and his together it ever before yesterday slaughtered a hundred thousand." he looked round for the high-priest of serapis, and after seeking him in vain among the guests, he exclaimed: "the revered timotheus withdraws his countenance from us to-day. yet it was to his god that i dedicated the work of vengeance. he laments the loss of worshipers to great serapis, as you, vertinus"--and he turned to the idiologos--"regret the slain tax-payers. well, you are thinking of my loss or gain, and that i can not but praise. your colleague in the service of serapis has nothing to care for but the honor of his god; but he does not succeed in rising to the occasion. poor wretch! i will give him a lesson. here epagathos, and you, claudius--go at once to timotheus; carry him this sword. i devote it to his god. it is to be preserved in his holy of holies, in memory of the greatest act of vengeance ever known. if timotheus should refuse the gift--but no, he has sense--he knows me!" he paused, and turned to look at macrinus, who had risen to speak to some officials and soldiers who had entered the room. they brought the news that the parthian envoys had broken off all negotiations, and had left the city in the afternoon. they would enter into no alliance, and were prepared to meet the roman army. macrinus repeated this to caesar with a shrug of his shoulders, but he withheld the remark added by the venerable elder of the ambassadors, that they did not fear a foe who by so vile a deed had incurred the wrath of the gods. "then it is war with the parthians!" cried caracalla, and his eyes flashed. "my breast-plated favorites will rejoice." but then he looked grave, and inquired: "they are leaving the town, you say? but are they birds? the gates and harbor are closed." "a small phoenician vessel stole out just before sundown between our guard-ships," was the reply. "curse it!" broke from caesar's lips in a loud voice, and, after a brief dialogue in an undertone with the prefect, he desired to have papyrus and writing materials brought to him. he himself must inform the senate of what had occurred, and he did so in a few words. he did not know the number of the slain, and he did not think it worth while to make a rough estimate. all the alexandrians, he said, had in fact merited death. a swift trireme was to carry the letter to ostia at daybreak. he did not, indeed, ask the opinion of the senate, and yet he felt that it would be better that news of the day's events should reach the curia under his own hand than through the distorting medium of rumor. nor did macrinus impress on him, as usual, that he should give his dispatch a respectful form. this crime, if anything, might help him to the fulfillment of the magian's prophecy. as caesar was rolling up his missive, the long-expected zminis came into the room. he had attired himself splendidly, and bore the insignia of his new office. he humbly begged to be pardoned for his long delay. he had had to make his outer man fit to appear among caesar's guests, for-as he boastfully explained--he himself had waded in blood, and in the court-yard of the museum the red life-juice of the alexandrians had reached above his horse's knees. the number of the dead, he declared with sickening pride, was above a hundred thousand, as estimated by the prefect. "then we will call it eleven myriad," caracalla broke in. "now, we have had enough of the dead. bring in the living." "whom?" asked the egyptian, in surprise. hereupon caesar's eyelids began to quiver, and in a threatening tone he reminded his bloody-handed tool of those whom he had ordered him to take alive. still zminis was silent, and caesar furiously shrieked his demand as to whether by his blundering heron's daughter had escaped; whether he could not produce the gem-cutter and his son. the blood-stained butcher then perceived that caesar's murderous sword might be turned against him also. still, he was prepared to defend himself by every means in his power. his brain was inventive, and, seeing that the fault for which he would least easily be forgiven was the failure to capture melissa, he tried to screen himself by a lie. relying on an incident which he himself had witnessed, he began: "i felt certain of securing the gem-cutter's pretty daughter, for my men had surrounded his house. but it had come to the ears of these alexandrian scoundrels that a son of heron's, a painter, and his sister, had betrayed their fellow-citizens and excited your wrath. it was to them that they ascribed the punishment which i executed upon them in your name. this rabble have no notion of reflection; before we could hinder them they had rushed on the innocent dwelling. they flung fire-brands into it, burned it, and tore it down. any one who was within perished, and thus the daughter of heron died. that is, unfortunately, proved. i can take the old man and his son tomorrow. to-day i have had so much to do that there has not been time to bind the sheaves. it is said that they had escaped before the mob rushed on the house." "and the gem-cutter's daughter?" asked caracalla, in a trembling voice. "you are sure she was burned in the building?" "as sure as that i have zealously endeavored to let the alexandrians feel your avenging hand," replied the egyptian resolutely, and with a bold face he confirmed his he. "i have here the jewel she wore on her arm. it was found on the charred body in the cellar. adventus, your chamberlain, says that melissa received it yesterday as a gift from you. here it is." and he handed caracalla the serpent-shaped bracelet which caesar had sent to his sweetheart before setting out for the circus. the fire had damaged it, but there was no mistaking it. it had been found beneath the ruins on a human arm, and zminis had only learned from the chamberlain, to whom he had shown it, that it had belonged to the daughter of heron. "even the features of the corpse," zminis added, "were still recognizable." "the corpse!" caesar echoed gloomily. "and it was the alexandrians, you say, who destroyed the house?" "yes, my lord; a raging mob, and mingled with them men of every racejews, greeks, syrians, what not. most of them had lost a father, a son, or a brother, sent to hades by your vengeance. their wildest curses were for alexander, the painter, who in fact had played the spy for you. but the macedonian phalanx arrived at the right moment. they killed most of them and took some prisoners. you can see them yourself in the morning. as regards the wife of seleukus--" "well," exclaimed caesar, and his eye brightened again. "she fell a victim to the clumsiness of the praetorians." "indeed!" interrupted the legate quintus flavius nobilior, who had granted alexander's life to the prayer of the twins aurelius; and macrinus also forbade any insulting observations as to the blameless troops whom he had the honor to command. but the egyptian was not to be checked; he went on eagerly: "pardon, my lords. it is perfectly certain, nevertheless, that it was a praetorian-his name is rufus, and he belongs to the second cohort--who pierced the lady berenike with his spear." flavius here begged to be allowed to speak, and reported how berenike had sought and found her end. and he did so as though he were narrating the death of a heroine, but he added, in a tone of disapproval: "unhappily, the misguided woman died with a curse on you, great caesar, on her treasonable lips." "and this female hero finds her homer in you!" cried caesar. "we will speak together again, my quintus." he raised a brimming cup to his lips and emptied it at a draught; then, setting it on the table with such violence that it rang, he exclaimed "then you have brought me none of those whom i commanded you to capture? even the feeble girl who had not quitted her father's house you allowed to be murdered by those coarse monsters! and you think i shall look on you with favor? by this time to-morrow the gem-cutter and his son alexander are here before me, or by the head of my divine father you go to the wild beasts in the circus." "they will not eat such as he," observed old julius paulinus, and caesar nodded approvingly. the egyptian shuddered, for this imperial nod showed him by how slender a thread his life hung. in a flash he reflected whither he might fly if he should fail to find this hated couple. if, after all, he should discover melissa alive, so much the better. then, he might have been mistaken in identifying the body; some slave girl might have stolen the bracelet and put it on before the house was burned down. he knew for a fact that the charred corpse of which he had spoken was that of a street wench who had rushed among the foremost into the house of the much-envied imperial favorite--the traitress--and had met her death in the spreading flames. zminis had but a moment to rack his inventive and prudent brain, but he already had thought of something which might perhaps influence caesar in his favor. of all the alexandrians, the members of the museum were those whom caracalla hated most. he had been particularly enjoined not to spare one of them; and in the course of the ride which caesar, attended by the armed troopers of arsinoe, had taken through the streets streaming with blood, he had stayed longest gazing at the heap of corpses in the court-yard of the museum. in the portico, a colonnade copied from the stoa at athens, whither a dozen or so of the philosophers had fled when attacked, he had even stabbed several with his own hand. the blood on the sword which caracalla had dedicated to serapis had been shed at the museum. the egyptian had himself led the massacre here, and had seen that it was thoroughly effectual. the mention of those slaughtered hair-splitters must, if anything, be likely to mitigate caesar's wrath; so no sooner had the applause died away with which the proconsul's jest at his expense had been received, than zminis began to give his report of the great massacre in the museum. he could boast of having spared scarcely one of the empty word-pickers with whom the epigrams against caesar and his mother had originated. teachers and pupils, even the domestic officials, had been overtaken by the insulted sovereign's vengeance. nothing was left but the stones of that great institution, which had indeed long outlived its fame. the numidians who had helped in the work had been drunk with blood, and had forced their way even into the physician's lecture-rooms and the hospital adjoining. there, too, they had given no quarter; and among the sufferers who had been carried thither to be healed they had found tarautas, the wounded gladiator. a numidian, the youngest of the legion, a beardless youth, had pinned the terrible conqueror of lions and men to the bed with his spear, and then, with the same weapon, had released at least a dozen of his fellow-sufferers from their pain. as he told his story the egyptian stood staring into vacancy, as though he saw it all, and the whites of his eyeballs gleamed more hideously than ever out of his swarthy face. the lean, sallow wretch stood before caesar like a talking corpse, and did not observe the effect his narrative of the gladiator's death was producing. but he soon found out. while he was yet speaking, caracalla, leaning on the table by his couch with both hands, fixed his eyes on his face, without a word. then he suddenly sprang up, and, beside himself with rage, he interrupted the terrified egyptian and railed at him furiously: "my tarautas, who had so narrowly escaped death! the bravest hero of his kind basely murdered on his sick-bed, by a barbarian, a beardless boy! and you, you loathsome jackal, could allow it? this deed--and you know it, villain--will be set down to my score. it will be brought up against me to the end of my days in rome, in the provinces, everywhere. i shall be cursed for your crime wherever there is a human heart to throb and feel, and a human tongue to speak. and i--when did i ever order you to slake your thirst for blood in that of the sick and suffering? never! i could never have done such a thing! i even told you to spare the women and helpless slaves. you are all witnesses, but you all hear me-i will punish the murderer of the wretched sick! i will avenge you, foully murdered, brave, noble tarautas!--here, lictors! bind him--away with him to the circus with the criminals thrown to the wild beasts! he allowed the girl whose life i bade him spare to be burned to death before his eyes, and the hapless sick were slain at his command by a beardless boy!--and tarautas! i valued him as i do all who are superior to their kind; i cared for him. he was wounded for our entertainment, my friends. poor fellow--poor, brave tarautas!" he here broke into loud sobs, and it was so unheard-of, so incomprehensible a thing that this man should weep who, even at his father's death had not shed a tear, that julius paulinus himself held his mocking tongue. the rest of the spectators also kept anxious and uneasy silence while the lictors bound zminis's hands, and, in spite of his attempts to raise his voice once more in self-defense, dragged him away and thrust him out across the threshold of the dining-hall. the door closed behind him, and no applause followed, though every one approved of the egyptian's condemnation, for caracalla was still weeping. was it possible that these tears could be shed for sick people whom he did not know, and for the coarse gladiator, the butcher of men and beasts, who had had nothing to give caesar but a few hours of excitement at the intoxicating performances in the arena? so it must be; for from time to time caracalla moaned softly, "those unhappy sick!" or "poor tarautas!" and, indeed, at this moment caracalla himself could not have said whom he was lamenting. he had in the circus staked his life on that of tarautas, and when he shed tears over his memory it was certainly less for the gladiator's sake than over the approaching end of his own existence, to which he looked forward in consequence of tarautas's death. but he had often been near the gates of hades in the battle-field with calm indifference; and now, while he thus bewailed the sick and tarautas with bitter lamentations, in his mind he saw no sick-bed, nor, indeed, the stunted form of the braggart hero of the arena, but the slender, graceful figure of a sweet girl, and a blackened, charred arm on which glittered a golden armlet. that woman! treacherous, shameless, but how lovely and beloved! that woman, under his eyes, as it were, was swept out of the land of the living; and with her, with melissa, the only girl for whom his heart had ever throbbed faster, the miracle-worker who had possessed the unique power of exorcising his torments, whose love--for so he still chose to believe, though he had always refused her petitions that he would show mercy--whose love would have given him strength to become a benefactor to all mankind, a second trajan or titus. he had quite forgotten that he had intended her to meet a disgraceful end in the arena under fearful torments, if she had been brought to him a prisoner. he felt as though the fate of roxana, with whom his most cherished dream had perished, had quite broken his heart; and it was melissa whom he really bewailed, with the gladiator's name on his lips and the jewel before his eyes which had been his gift, and which she had worn on her arm even in death. but he ere long controlled this display of feeling, ashamed to shed tears for her who had cheated him and who had fled from his love. only once more did he sob aloud. then he raised himself, and while holding his handkerchief to his eyes he addressed the company with theatrical pathos: "yes, my friends, tell whom you will that you have seen bassianus weep; but add that his tears flowed from grief at the necessity for punishing so many of his subjects with such rigor. say, too, that caesar wept with pity and indignation. for what good man would not be moved to sorrow at seeing the sick and wounded thus maltreated? what humane heart could refrain from loud lamentations at the sight of barbarity which is not withheld from laying a murderous hand even on the sacred anguish of the sick and wounded? defend me, then, against those romans who may shrug their shoulders over the weakness of a weeping caesar--the terrible. my office demands severity; and yet, my friends, i am not ashamed of these tears." with this he took leave of his guests and retired to rest, and those who remained were soon agreed that every word of this speech, as well as caesar's tears, were rank hypocrisy. the mime theocritus admired his sovereign in all sincerity, for how rarely could even the greatest actors succeed in forcing from their eyes, by sheer determination, a flood of real, warm tears--he had seen them flow. as caesar quitted the room, his hand on the lion's mane, the praetor priscillianus whispered to cilo: "your disciple has been taking lessons here of the weeping crocodile." ......................... out on the great square the soldiers were resting after the day's bloody work. they had lighted large fires in front of the most sacred sanctuary of a great city, as though they were in the open field. round each of these, foot and horse soldiers lay or squatted on the ground, according to their companies; and over the wine allowed them by caesar they told each other the hideous experiences of the day, which even those who had grown rich by it could not think of without disgust. gold and silver cups, the plunder of the city, circulated round those camp-fires and the juice of the vine was poured into them out of jugs of precious metal. tongues were wagging fast, for, though there was indeed but one opinion as to what had been done, there were mercenaries enough and ambitious pretenders who could dare to defend it. every word might reach the sovereign's ears, and the day might bring promotion as well as gold and booty. even the calmest were still in some excitement over the massacre they had helped in; the plunder was discussed, and barter and exchange were eagerly carried on. as caracalla passed the balcony he stepped out for a moment, followed by the lamp-bearers, to thank his faithful warriors for the valor and obedience they had shown this day. the traitorous alexandrians had now met their deserts. the greater the plunder his dear brethren in arms could win, the better he would be pleased. this speech was hailed with a shout of glee drowning his words; but caracalla had heard his dearly bought troops cheer him with greater zeal and vigor. there were here whole groups of men who did not join at all, or hardly opened their mouths. and his ear was sharp. what cause could they have for dissatisfaction after such splendid booty, although they did not yet know that a war with the parthians was in prospect? he must know; but not to-day. they were to be depended on, he felt sure, for they were those to whom he was most liberal, and he had taken care that there should be no one in the empire whose means equaled his own. but that they should be so lukewarm annoyed him. to-day, of all days, an enthusiastic roar of acclamations would have been peculiarly gratifying. they ought to have known it; and he went to his bedroom in silent anger. there his freedman epagathos was waiting for him, with adventus and his learned indian body slave arjuna. the indian never spoke unless he was spoken to, and the two others took good care not to address their lord. so silence reigned in the spacious room while the indian undressed caracalla. caesar was wont to say that this man's hands were matchless for lightness and delicacy of touch, but to-day they trembled as he lifted the laurel wreath from caesar's head and unbuckled the padded breast plate. the events of the day had shaken this man's soul to the foundations. in his eastern home he had been taught from his infancy to respect life even in beasts, living exclusively on vegetables, and holding all blood in abhorrence. he now felt the deepest loathing of all about him; and a passionate longing for the peaceful and pure home among sages, from which he had been snatched as a boy, came over him with increasing vehemence. there was nothing here but what it defiled him to handle, and his fingers shrank involuntarily from their task, as duty compelled him to touch the limbs of a man who, to his fancy, was dripping with human blood, and who was as much accursed by gods and men as though he were a leper. arjuna made haste that he might escape from the presence of the horrible man, and caesar took no heed either of the pallor of his handsome brown face or the trembling of his slender fingers, for a crowd of thoughts made him blind and deaf to all that was going on around him. they reverted first to the events of the day; but as the indian removed the warm surcoat, the night breeze blew coldly into the room, and he shivered. was it the spirit of the slain tarautas which had floated in at the open window? the cold breath which fanned his cheek was certainly no mere draught. it was exactly like a human sigh, only it was cold instead of warm. if it proceeded from the ghost of the dead gladiator he must be quite close to him. and the fancy gained reality in his mind; he saw a floating human form which beckoned him and softly laid a cold hand on his shoulder. he, caesar, had linked his fate to that of the gladiator, and now tarautas had come to warn him. but caracalla had no mind to follow him; he forbade the apparition with a loud cry of "away!" at this the indian started, and though he could scarcely utter the words, he besought caesar to be seated that he might take off his laced shoes; and then caracalla perceived that it was an illusion that had terrified him, and he shrugged his shoulders, somewhat ashamed. while the slave was busy he wiped his damp brow, saying to himself with a proud smile that of course spirits never appeared in broad light and when others were present. at last he dismissed the indian and lay down. his head was burning, and his heart beat too violently for sleep. at his bidding epagathos and adventus followed the indian into the adjoining room after extinguishing the lamp. . . caracalla was alone in the dark. awaiting sleep, he stretched himself at full length, but he remained as wide awake as by day. and still he could not help thinking of the immediate past. even his enemies could not deny that it was his duty as a man and an emperor to inflict the severest punishment on this town, and to make it feel his avenging hand; and yet he was beginning to be aware of the ruthlessness of his commands. he would have been glad to talk it all over with some one else. but philostratus, the only man who understood him, was out of reach; he had sent him to his mother. and for what purpose? to tell her that he, caesar, had found a wife after his own heart, and to win her favor and consent. at this thought the blood surged up in him with rage and shame. even before they were wed his chosen bride had been false to him; she had fled from his embraces, as he now knew, to death, never to return. he would gladly have sent a galley in pursuit to bring philostratus back again; but the vessel in which the philosopher had embarked was one of the swiftest in the imperial fleet, and it had already so long a start that to overtake it would be almost impossible. so within a few days philostratus would meet his mother; he, if any one, could describe melissa's beauty in the most glowing colors, and that he would do so to the empress, his great friend, was beyond a doubt. but the haughty julia would scarcely be inclined to accept the gem-cutter's child for a daughter; indeed, she did not wish that he should ever marry again. but what was he to her? her heart was given to the infant son of her niece mammaea;--[the third caesar after caracalla, alexander severus]-in him she discovered every gift and virtue. what joy there would be among the women of julia's train when it was known that caesar's chosen bride had disdained him, and, in him, the very purple. but that joy would not be of long duration, for the news of the punishment by death of a hundred thousand alexandrians would, he knew, fall like a lash on the women. he fancied he could hear their howls and wailing, and see the horror of philostratus, and how he would join the women in bemoaning the horrible deed! he, the philosopher, would perhaps be really grieved; aye, and if he had been at his side this morning everything might perhaps have been different. but the deed was done, and now he must take the consequences. that the better sort would avoid him after such an act was self-evident-they had already refused to eat with him. on the other hand, it had brought nearer to him the favorites whom he had attracted to his person. theocritus and pandion, antigonus and epagathos, the priest of alexander, who at rome was overwhelmed with debt, and who in egypt had become a rich man again, would cling to him more closely. "base wretches!" he muttered to himself. if only philostratus would come back to him! but he scarcely dared hope it. the evil took so much more care for their own well-being and multiplication than the good. if one of the righteous fell away, all the others forthwith turned their backs on him; and when the penitent desired to return to the fold, the immaculate repelled or avoided him. but the wicked could always find the fallen man at once, and would cling to him and hinder him from returning. their ranks were always open to him, however closely he might formerly have been attached to the virtuous. to live in exclusive intercourse with these reprobates was an odious thought. he could compel whom he chose to live with him; but of what use were silent and reluctant companions? and whose fault was it that he had sent away philostratus, the best of them all? hers--the faithless traitoress, from whom he had looked for peace and joy, who had declared that she felt herself bound to him, the trickster in whom he had believed he saw roxana--but she was no more. on the table by his bed, among his own jewels, lay the golden serpent he had given her--he fancied he could see it in the dark--and she had worn it even in death. he shuddered; he felt as though a woman's arm, all black and charred, was stretched out to him in the night, and the golden snake uncurled from it and reached forth as though to bite him. he shivered, and hid his head under the coverlet; but, ashamed and vexed at his own foolish weakness, he soon emerged from the stifling darkness, and an inward voice scornfully asked him whether he still believed that the soul of the great macedonian inhabited his body. there was an end of this proud conviction. he had no more connection with alexander than melissa had with roxana, whom she resembled. the blood seethed hotly in his veins; to live on these terms seemed to him impossible. as soon as it was day it must surely be seen that he was very seriously ill. the spirit of tarautas would again appear to him--and not merely as a vaporous illusion--and put an end to his utter misery. but he felt his own pulse; it beat no more quickly than usual. he had no fever, and yet he must be ill, very ill. and again he flushed so hotly that he felt as if he should choke. breathing hard, he sat up to call his physician. then he observed a light through the half-closed door of the adjoining room. he heard voices--those of adventus and the indian. arjuna was generally so silent that philostratus had vainly endeavored to discover from him any particulars as to the doctrine of the brahmans, among whom apollonius of tyana declared that he had found the highest wisdom, or concerning the manners of his people. and yet the indian was a man of learning, and could even read the manuscripts of his country. the parthian ambassador had expressly dwelt on this when he delivered arjuna to caesar as a gift from his king. but arjuna had never favored any of these strangers with his confidence. only with old adventus did he ever hold conversation, for the chamberlain took care that he should be supplied with the vegetables and fruit on which he was accustomed to live--for meat never passed his lips; and now he was talking with the old man, and caracalla sat up and laid his hand to his ear. the indian was absorbed in the study of a bookroll in his own tongue, which he carried about him. "what are you reading?" asked adventus. "a book," replied arjuna, "from which a man may learn what will become of you and me, and all these slaughtered victims, after death." "who can know that?" said the old man with a sigh; and arjuna replied very positively: "it is written here, and there is no doubt about it. will you hear it?" "certainly," said adventus eagerly, and the indian began translating out of his book: "when a man dies his various parts go whither they belong. his voice goes to the fire, his breath to the winds, his eyes to the sun, his spirit to the moon, his hearing becomes one with space, his body goes to the earth, his soul is absorbed into ether, his hairs become plants, the hair of his head goes to crown the trees, his blood returns to water. thus, every portion of a man is restored to that portion of the universe to which it belongs; and of himself, his own essence, nothing remains but one part what that is called is a great secret." caracalla was listening intently. this discourse attracted him. he, like the other caesars, must after his death be deified by the senate; but he felt convinced, for his part, that the olympians would never count him as one of themselves. at the same time he was philosopher enough to understand that no existing thing could ever cease to exist. the restoration of each part of his body to that portion of the universe to which it was akin, pleased his fancy. there was no place in the indian's creed for the responsibility of the soul at the judgment of the dead. caesar was already on the point of asking the slave to reveal his secret, when adventus prevented him by exclaiming: "you may confide to me what will be left of me--unless, indeed, you mean the worms which shall eat me and so proceed from me. it can not be good for much, at any rate, and i will tell no one." to this arjuna solemnly replied: "there is one thing which persists to all eternity and can never be lost in all the ages of the universe, and that is--the deed." "i know that," replied the old man with an indifferent shrug; but the word struck caesar like a thunder-bolt. he listened breathlessly to hear what more the indian might say; but arjuna, who regarded it as sacrilege to waste the highest lore on one unworthy of it, went on reading to himself, and adventus stretched himself out to sleep. all was silent in and about the sleeping-room, and the fearful words, "the deed," still rang in the ears of the man who had just committed the most monstrous of all atrocities. he could not get rid of the haunting words; all the ill he had done from his childhood returned to him in fancy, and seemed heaped up to form a mountain which weighed on him like an incubus. the deed! his, too, must live on, and with it his name, cursed and hated to the latest generations of men. the souls of the slain would have carried the news of the deeds he had done even to hades; and if tarautas were to come and fetch him away, he would be met below by legions of indignant shades --a hundred thousand! and at their head his stern father, and the other worthy men who had ruled rome with wisdom and honor, would shout in his face: "a hundred thousand times a murderer! robber of the state! destroyer of the army!" and drag him before the judgment-seat; and before judgment could be pronounced the hundred thousand, led by the noblest of all his victims, the good papinian, would rush upon him and tear him limb from limb. dozing as he lay, he felt cold, ghostly hands on his shoulder, on his head, wherever the cold breath of the waning night could fan him through the open window; and with a loud cry he sprang out of bed as he fancied he felt a touch of the shadowy hand of vindex. on hearing his voice, adventus and the indian hurried in, with epagathos, who had even heard his shriek in the farther room. they found him bathed in a sweat of horror, and struggling for breath, his eyes fixed on vacancy; and the freedman flew off to fetch the physician. when he came caesar angrily dismissed him, for he felt no physical disorder. without dressing, he went to the window. it was about three hours before sunrise. however, he gave orders that his bath should be prepared, and desired to be dressed; then macrinus and others were to be sent for. sooner would he step into boiling water than return to that bed of terror. day, life, business must banish his terrors. but then, after the evening would come another night; and if the sufferings he had just gone through should repeat themselves then, and in those to follow, he should lose his wits, and he would bless the spirit of tarautas if it would but come to lead him away to death. but "the deed"! the indian was right--that would survive him on earth, and mankind would unite in cursing him. was there yet time--was he yet capable of atoning for what was done by some great and splendid deed? but the hundred thousand-the number rose before him like a mountain, blotting out every scheme he tried to form as he went to his bath--taking his lion with him; he reveled in the warm water, and finally lay down to rest in clean linen wrappers. no one had dared to speak to him. his aspect was too threatening. in a room adjoining the bath-room he had breakfast served him. it was, as usual, a simple meal, and yet he could only swallow a few mouthfuls, for everything had a bitter taste. the praetorian prefect was roused, and caesar was glad to see him, for it was in attending to affairs that he most easily forgot what weighed upon him. the more serious they were, the better, and macrinus looked as if there was something of grave importance to be settled. caracalla's first question was with reference to the parthian ambassadors. they had, in fact, departed; now he must prepare for war. caesar was eager to decide at once on the destination of each legion, and to call the legates together to a council of war; but macrinus was not so prompt and ready as usual on such occasions. he had that to communicate which, as he knew, would to caesar take the head of all else. if it should prove true, it must withdraw him altogether from the affairs of government; and this was what macrinus aimed at when, before summoning the legates, he observed with a show of reluctance that caesar would be wroth with him if, for the sake of a council of war, he were to defer a report which had just reached his ears. "business first!" cried caracalla, with decisive prohibition. "as you will. i thought only of what i was told by an official of this temple, that the gem-cutter's daughter--you know the girl--is still alive--" but he got no further, for caesar sprang to his feet, and desired to hear more of this. macrinus proceeded to relate that a slaughterer in the court of sacrifice had told him that melissa had been seen last evening, and was somewhere in the serapeum. more than this the prefect knew not, and caesar forthwith dismissed him to make further inquiry before he himself should take steps to prove the truth of the report. then he paced the room with revived energy. his eye sparkled, and, breathing fast, he strove to reduce the storm of schemes, plans, and hopes which surged up within him to some sort of order. he must punish the fugitive--but yet more surely he would never again let her out of his sight. but if only he could first have her cast to the wild beasts, and then bring her to life again, crown her with the imperial diadem, and load her with every gift that power and wealth could procure! he would read every wish in her eyes, if only she would once more lay her hand on his forehead, charm away his pain, and bring sleep to his horror-stricken bed. he had done nothing to vex her; nay, every petition she had urged-but suddenly the image rose before him of old vindex and his nephew, whom he had sent to execution in spite of her intercession; and again the awful word, "the deed," rang in his inward ear. were these hideous thoughts to haunt him even by day? no, no! in his waking hours there was much to be done which might give him the strength to dissipate them. the kitchen-steward was by this time in attendance; but what did caracalla care for dainties to tickle his palate now that he had a hope of seeing melissa once more? with perfect indifference he left the catering to the skillful and inventive cook; and hardly had he retired when macrinus returned. the slaughterer had acquired his information through a comrade, who said that he had twice caught sight of melissa at the window of the chambers of mystery in the upper story of the serapeum, yesterday afternoon. he had hoped to win the reward which was offered for the recovery of the fugitive, and had promised his colleague half the money if he would help him to capture the maiden. but just at sunset, hearing that the massacre was ended, the man had incautiously gone out into the town, where he had been slain by a drunken solder of the scythian legion. the hapless man's body had been found, but macrinus's informant had assured him that he could entirely rely on the report of his unfortunate colleague, who was a sober and truthful man, as the chief augur would testify. this was enough for caracalla. macrinus was at once to go for the highpriest, and to take care that he took no further steps to conceal melissa. the slaughterer had ever since daybreak kept secret watch on all the doors of the serapeum, aided by his comrades, who were to share in the reward, and especially on the stairway leading from the ground floor up to the mystic's galleries. the prefect at once obeyed the despot's command. on the threshold he met the kitchen-steward returning to submit his list of dishes for caesar's approval. he found caracalla in an altered mood, rejuvenescent and in the highest spirits. after hastily agreeing to the day's bill of fare, he asked the steward in what part of the building the chambers of mystery were; and when he learned that the stairs leading up to them began close to the kitchens, which had been arranged for caesar's convenience under the temple laboratory, caracalla declared in a condescending tone that he would go to look round the scene of the cook's labors. and the lion should come too, to return thanks for the good meat which was brought to him so regularly. the head cook, rejoiced at the unwonted graciousness of a master whose wrath had often fallen on him, led the way to his kitchen hearth. this had been constructed in a large hall, originally the largest of the laboratories, where incense was prepared for the sanctuary and medicines concocted for the sick in the temple hospital. there were smaller halls and rooms adjoining, where at this moment some priests were busy preparing kyphi and mixing drugs. the steward, proud of caesar's promised visit, announced to his subordinates the honor they might expect, and he then went to the door of the small laboratory to tell the old pastophoros who was employed there, and who had done him many a good turn, that if he wished to see the emperor he had only to open the door leading to the staircase. he was about to visit the mystic chambers with his much-talked-of lion. no one need be afraid of the beast; it was quite tame, and caesar loved it as a son. at this the old drug-pounder muttered some reply, which sounded more like a curse than the expected thanks, and the steward regretted having compared the lion to a son in this man's presence, for the pastophoros wore a mourning garment, and two promising sons had been snatched from him, slain yesterday with the other youths in the stadium. but the cook soon forgot the old man's ill-humor; he had to clear his subordinates out of the way as quickly as possible and prepare for his illustrious visitor. as he bustled around, here, there, and everywhere, the pastophoros entered the kitchen and begged for a piece of mutton. this was granted him by a hasty sign toward a freshly slaughtered sheep, and the old man busied himself for some time behind the steward's back. at last he had cut off what he wanted, and gazed with singular tenderness at the piece of red, veinless meat. on returning to his laboratory, he hastily bolted himself in, and when he came out again a few minutes later his calm, wrinkled old face had a malignant and evil look. he stood at the bottom of the stairs, looking about him cautiously; then he flew up the steps with the agility of youth, and at a turn in the stairs he stuck the piece of meat close to the foot of the balustrade. he returned as nimbly as he had gone, cast a sorrowful glance through the open laboratory window at the arena where all that had graced his life lay dead, and passed his hand over his tearful face. at last he returned to his task, but he was less able to do it than before. it was with a trembling hand that he weighed out the juniper berries and cedar resin, and he listened all the time with bated breath. presently there was a stir on the stairs, and the kitchen slaves shouted that caesar was coming. so he went out of the laboratory, which was behind the stairs, to see what was going forward, and a turnspit at once made way for the old man so as not to hinder his view. was that little young man, mounting the steps so gayly, with the highpriest at his side and his suite at his heels, the dreadful monster who had murdered his noble sons? he had pictured the dreadful tyrant quite differently. now caesar was laughing, and the tall man next him made some light and ready reply--the head cook said it was the roman priest of alexander, who was not on good terms with timotheus. could they be laughing at the high-priest? never, in all the years he had known him, had he seen timotheus so pale and dejected. the high-priest had indeed good cause for anxiety, for he suspected who it was that caesar hoped to find in the mystic rooms, and feared that his wife might, in fact, have melissa in hiding in that part of the building to which he was now leading the way. after macrinus had come to fetch him he had had no opportunity of inquiring, for the prefect had not quitted him for a moment, and euryale was in the town busy with other women in seeking out and nursing such of the wounded as had been found alive among the dead. caesar triumphed in the changed, gloomy, and depressed demeanor of a man usually so self-possessed; for he fancied that it betrayed some knowledge on the part of timotheus of melissa's hiding-place; and he could jest with the priest of alexander and his favorite theokritus and the other friends who attended him, while he ignored the high-priest's presence and never even alluded to melissa. hardly had they gone past the old man when, just as the kitchen slaves were shouting "hail, caesar!" the lady euryale, as pale as death, hurried in, and with a trembling voice inquired whither her husband was conducting the emperor. she had turned back when half way on her road, in obedience to the impulse of her heart, which prompted her, before she went on her samaritan's errand, to visit melissa in her hiding-place, and let her see the face of a friend at the beginning of a new, lonely, and anxious day. on hearing the reply which was readily given, her knees trembled beneath her, and the steward, who saw her totter, supported her and led her into the laboratory, where essences and strong waters soon restored her to consciousness. euryale had known the old pastophoros a long time, and, noticing his mourning garb, she asked sympathetically: "and you, too, are bereft?" "of both," was the answer. "you were always so good to them-slaughtered like beasts for sacrifice--down there in the stadium," and tears flowed fast down the old man's furrowed cheeks. the lady uplifted her hands as though calling on heaven to avenge this outrageous crime; at the same instant a loud howl of pain was heard from above, and a great confusion of men's voices. euryale was beside herself with fear. if they had found melissa in her room her husband's fate was sealed, and she was guilty of his doom. but they could scarcely yet have opened the chambers, and the girl was clever and nimble, and might perhaps escape in time if she heard the men approaching. she eagerly flew to the window. she could see below her the stone which melissa must move to get out; but between the wall and the stadium the street was crowded, and at every door of the serapeum lictors were posted, even at that stone door known only to the initiated, with the temple slaughterers and other servants who seemed all to be on guard. if melissa were to come out now she would be seized, and it must become known who had shown her the way into the hiding-place that had sheltered her. at this moment theokritus came leaping down the stairs, crying out to her: "the lion--a physician--where shall i find a leech?" the matron pointed to the old man, who was one of the medical students of the sanctuary, and the favorite shouted out to him, "come up!" and then rushed on, paying no heed to euryale's inquiry for melissa; but the old man laughed scornfully and shouted after him, "i am no beast-healer." then, turning to the lady, he added: "i am sorry for the lion. you know me, lady. i could never till yesterday bear to see a fly hurt. but this brute! it was as a son to that bloodhound, and he shall feel for once something to grieve him. the lion has had his portion. no physician in the world can bring him to life again." he bent his head and returned to his laboratory; but the matron understood that this kind, peaceable man, in spite of his white hair, had become a poisoner, and that the splendid, guiltless beast owed its death to him. she shuddered. wherever this unblest man went, good turned to evil; terror, suffering, and death took the place of peace, happiness, and life. he had forced her even into the sin of disobedience to her husband and master. but now her secret hiding of melissa against his will would be avenged. he and she alike would probably pay for the deed with their life; for the murder of his lion would inevitably rouse caesar's wildest passions. still, she knew that caracalla respected her; for her sake, perhaps, he would spare her husband. but melissa? what would her fate be if she were dragged out of her hiding-place?--and she must be discovered! he had threatened to cast her to the beasts; and ought she not to prefer even that fearful fate to forgiveness and a fresh outburst of caesar's passion? pale and tearless, but shaken with alarms, she bent over the balustrade of the stairs and murmured a prayer commending herself, her husband, and melissa to god. then she hastened up the steps. the great doors leading to the chambers of mystery stood wide open, and the first person she met was her husband. "you here?" said he in an undertone. "you may thank the gods that your kind heart did not betray you into hiding the girl here. i trembled for her and for ourselves. but there is not a sign of her; neither here nor on the secret stair. what a morning--and what a day must follow! there lies caesar's lion. if his suspicion that it has been poisoned should be proved true, woe to this luckless city, woe to us all!" and caesar's aspect justified the worst anticipations. he had thrown himself on the floor by the side of his dead favorite, hiding his face in the lion's noble mane, with strange, quavering wailing. then he raised the brute's heavy head and kissed his dead eyes, and as it slipped from his hand and fell on the floor, he started to his feet, shaking his fist, and exclaiming: "yes, you have poisoned him! bring the miscreant here, or you shall follow him!" macrinus assured him that if indeed some basest of base wretches had dared to destroy the life of this splendid and faithful king of beasts, the murderer should infallibly be found. but caracalla screamed in his face: "found? dare you speak of finding? have you even brought me the girl who was hidden here? have you found her? where is she? she was seen here and she must be here!" and he hurried from room to room in undignified haste, like a slave hunting for some lost treasure of his master's, tearing open closets, peeping behind curtains and up chimneys, and snatching the clothes, behind which she might have hidden, from the pegs on which they hung. he insisted on seeing every secret door, and ran first down and then up the hidden stairs by which melissa had in fact escaped. in the great hall, where by this time physicians and courtiers had gathered round the carcass of the lion, caesar sank on to a seat, his brow damp with heat, and stared at the floor; while the leeches, who, as alexandrians for the most part, were anxious not to rouse the despot's rage, assured him that to all appearance the lion, who had been highly fed and getting little exercise, had died of a fit. the poison had indeed worked more rapidly than any the imperial body physician was acquainted with; and he, not less anxious to mollify the sovereign, bore them out in this opinion. but their diagnosis, though well meant, had the contrary effect to that they had intended. the prosecution and punishment of a murderer would have given occupation to his revengeful spirit and have diverted his thoughts, and the capture of the criminal would have pacified him; as it was, he could only regard the death of the lion as a fresh stroke of fate directed against himself. he sat absorbed in sullen gloom, muttering frantic curses, and haughtily desired the high-priest to restore the offering he had wasted on a god who was so malignant, and as hostile to him as all else in this city of abomination. he then rose, desired every one to stand back from where the lion lay, and gazed down at the beast for many minutes. and as he looked, his excited imagination showed him melissa stroking the noble brute, and the lion lashing the ground with his tail when he heard the light step of her little feet. he could hear the music of her voice when she spoke coaxingly to the lion; and then again he started off to search the rooms once more, shouting her name, heedless of the bystanders, till macrinus made so bold as to assure him that the slaughterer's report must have been false. he must have mistaken some one else for melissa, for it was proved beyond a doubt that melissa had been burned in her father's house. at this caesar looked the prefect in the face with glazed and wandering eyes, and macrinus started in horror as he suddenly shrieked, "the deed, the deed!" and struck his brow with his fist. from that hour caracalla had lost forever the power of distinguishing the illusions which pursued him from reality. chapter xxxv. a week later caracalla quitted alexandria to make war on the parthians. what finally drove the unhappy man to hurry from the hated place was the torturing fear of sharing his lion's fate, and of being sent after the murdered tarautas by the friends who had heard his appeal to fate. quite mad he was not, for the illusions which haunted him were often absent for several hours, when he spoke with perfect lucidity, received reports, and gave orders. it was with peculiar terror that his soul avoided every recollection of his mother, of theokritus, and all those whose opinion he had formerly valued and whose judgment was not indifferent to him. in constant terror of the dagger of an avenger--a dread which, with many other peculiarities, the leech could hardly ascribe to the diseased phenomena of his mental state--he only showed himself to his soldiers, and he might often be seen making a meal off a pottage he himself had cooked to escape the poison which had been fatal to his lion. he was never for an instant free from the horrible sense of being hated, shunned, and persecuted by the whole world. sometimes he would remember that once a fair girl had prayed for him; but when he tried to recall her features he could only see the charred arm with the golden snake held up before him as he had pictured it that night after the most hideous of his massacres; and every time, at the sight of it, that word came back to him which still tortured his soul above all else--"the deed." but his attendants, who heard him repeating it day and night, never knew what he meant by it. when zminis met his end by the wild beasts in the arena, it was before half-empty seats, though several legions had been ordered into the amphitheatre to fill them. the larger number of the citizens were slain, and the remainder were in mourning for relatives more or less near; and they also kept away from the scene to avoid the hated despot. macrinus now governed the empire almost as a sovereign, for caesar, formerly a laborious and autocratic ruler, shrank from all business. even before they left alexandria the plebeian prefect could see that serapion's prophecy was fulfilling itself. he remained in close intimacy with the soothsayer; but only once more, and just before caesar's departure, could the magian be induced to raise the spirits of the dead, for his clever accomplice, castor, had fallen a victim in the massacre because, prompted by the high price set on alexander's head, and his own fierce hatred of the young painter, he would go out to discover where he and his sister had concealed themselves. when at last the unhappy monarch quitted alexandria one rainy morning, followed by the curses of innumerable mourners--fathers, mothers, widows, and orphans--as well as of ruined artisans and craftsmen, the ill-used city, once so proudly gay, felt itself relieved of a crushing nightmare. this time it was not to caesar that the cloudy sky promised welfare--his life was wrapped in gloom--but to the people he had so bitterly hated. thousands looked forward hopefully to life once more, in spite of their mourning robes and widows' veils, and notwithstanding the serious hindrances which the malice of their "afflicted" sovereign had placed in the way of the resuscitation of their town, for caracalla had commanded that a wall should be built to divide the great merchant city into two parts. nay, he had intended to strike a death-blow even at the learning to which alexandria owed a part of her greatness, by decreeing that the museum and schools should be removed and the theatres closed. maddening alike to heart and brain was the memory that he left behind him, and the citizens would shake their fists if only his name were spoken. but their biting tongues had ceased to mock or jest. most of the epigramatists were silenced forever, and the nimble wit of the survivors was quelled for many a month by bitter curses or tears of sorrow. but now--it was a fortnight since the dreadful man had left--the shops and stores, which had been closed against the plunderers, were being reopened. life was astir again in the deserted and silent baths and taverns, for there was no further fear of rapine from insolent soldiers, or the treacherous ears of spies and delators. women and girls could once more venture into the highways, the market was filled with dealers, and many an one who was conscious of a heedless speech or suspected of whistling in the circus, or of some other crime, now came out of his well-watched hiding-place. glaukias, the sculptor, among others, reopened his work-rooms in heron's garden-plot. in the cellar beneath the floor the gem-cutter had remained hidden with polybius and his sister praxilla, for the easy-going old man could not be induced to embark in the vessel which argutis had hired for them. sooner would he die than leave alexandria. he was too much petted and too infirm to face the discomforts of a sea voyage. and his obstinacy had served him well, for the ship in which they were to have sailed, though it got out before the harbor was closed, was overtaken and brought back by an imperial galley. polybius was, however, quite willing to accept heron's invitation to share his hiding-place. now they could both come out again; but these few weeks had affected them very differently. the gem-cutter looked like the shadow of himself, and had lost his upright carriage. he knew, indeed, that melissa was alive, and that alexander, after being wounded, had been carried by andreas to the house of zeno, and was on the way to recovery; but the death of his favorite son preyed on his mind, and it was a great grievance that his house should have been wrecked and burned. his hidden gold, which was safe with him, would have allowed of his building a far finer one in its stead, but the fact that it should be his fellow-citizens who had destroyed it was worst of all. it weighed on his spirits, and made him morose and silent. old dido, who had risked her life more than once, looked at him with mournful eyes, and besought all the gods she worshiped to restore her good master's former vigor, that she might once more hear him curse and storm; for his subdued mood seemed to her unnatural and alarming--a portent of his approaching end. praxilla, too, the comfortable widow, had grown pale and thin, but old dido had learned a great deal from her teaching. polybius only was more cheerful than ever. he knew that his son and melissa had escaped the most imminent dangers. this made him glad; and then his sister had done wonders that he might not too greatly miss his cook. his meals had nevertheless been often scanty enough, and this compulsory temperance had relieved him of his gout and done him so much good that, when andreas led him out into daylight once more, the burly old man exclaimed: "i feel as light as a bird. if i had but wings i could fly across the lake to see the boy. it is you, my brother, who have helped to make me so much lighter." he laid his arm on the freedman's shoulder and kissed him on the cheeks. it was for the first time; and never before had he called him brother. but that his lips had obeyed the impulse of his heart might be seen in the tearful glitter of his eyes, which met those of andreas, and they, too, were moist. polybius knew all that the christian had done for his son and for melissa, for him and his, and his jest in saying that andreas had helped to make him lighter referred to his latest achievement. julianus, the new governor of the city, who now occupied the residence of the prefect titianus, had taken advantage of the oppressed people to extract money, and andreas, by the payment of a large sum, had succeeded in persuading him to sign a document which exonerated polybius and his son from all criminality, and protected their person and property against soldiers and town guards alike. this safe-conduct secured a peaceful future to the genial old man, and filled the measure of what he owed to the freedman, even to overflowing. andreas, on his part, felt that his former owner's kiss and brotherly greeting had sealed his acceptance as a free man. he asked no greater reward than this he had just received; and there was another thing which made his heart leap with gladness. he knew now that the fullness of time had come in the best sense for the daughter of the only woman he had ever loved, and that the good shepherd had called her to be one of his flock. he could rejoice over this without a pang, for he had learned that diodoros, too, had entered on the path which hitherto he had pointed out to him in vain. a calm cheerfulness, which surprised all who knew him, brightened the grave man; for him the essence of christian love lay in the resurrection, and he saw with astonishment that a wonderful new vitality was rising out of death. for alexandria, too, the time was fulfilled. men and women crowded to the rite of baptism. mothers brought their daughters, and fathers their sons. these days of horror had multiplied the little christian congregation to a church of ten thousand members. caracalla turned hundreds from heathenism by his bloody sacrifices, his love of fighting, his passion for revenge, and the blindness which made him cast away all care for his eternal soul to secure the enjoyment of a brief existence. that the sword which had slain thousands of their sons should have been dedicated to serapis, and accepted by the god, alienated many of the citizens from the patron divinity of the town. then the news that timotheus the high-priest had abdicated his office soon after caesar's departure, and, with his revered wife euryale, had been baptized by their friend the learned clemens, confirmed many in their desire to be admitted into the christian community. after these horrors of bloodshed, these orgies of hatred and vengeance, every heart longed for love and peace and brotherly communion. who of all those that had looked death in the face in these days was not anxious to know more of the creed which taught that the life beyond the grave was of greater importance than that on earth?--while those who already held it went forth to meet, as it were, a bridegroom. they had seen men trodden down and all their rights trampled on, and now every ear was open when a doctrine was preached which recognized the supreme value of humanity, by ascribing, even to the humblest, the dignity of a child of god. they were accustomed to pray to immortal beings who lived in privileged supremacy and wild revelry at the golden tables of the olympian banquet; and now they were told that the church of the christians meant the communion of the faithful with their fatherly god, and with his son who had mingled with other mortals in the form of man and who had done more for them than a brother, inasmuch as he had taken upon himself to die on the cross for love of them. to a highly cultured race like the alexandrians it had long seemed an absurdity to try to purchase the favor of the god; by blood-offerings. many philosophical sects, and especially the pythagoreans, had forbidden such sacrifices, and had enjoined the bringing of offerings not to purchase good fortune, but only to honor the gods; and now they saw the christians not making any offerings at all, but sharing a love-feast. this, as they declared, was to keep them in remembrance of their brotherhood and of their crucified lord, whose blood, once shed, his heavenly father had accepted instead of every other sacrifice. the voluntary and agonizing death of the redeemer had saved the soul of every christian from sin and damnation; and many who in the late scenes of horror had been inconsolable in anticipation of the grave, felt moved to share in this divine gift of grace. beautiful, wise, and convincing sentences from the bible went from lip to lip; and a saying of clemens, whose immense learning was well known, was especially effective and popular. he had said that "faith was knowledge of divine things through revelation, but that learning must give the proof thereof"; and this speech led many men of high attainments to study the new doctrines. the lower classes were no doubt those most strongly attracted, the poor and the slaves; and with them the sorrowing and oppressed. there were many of these now in the town; ten thousand had seen those dearest to them perish, and others, being wounded, had within a few days been ruined both in health and estate. as to melissa in her peril, so to all these the saviour's call to the heavy-laden that he would give them rest had come as a promise of new hope to car and heart. at the sound of these words they saw the buds of a new spring-time for the soul before their eyes; any one who knew a christian improved his intimacy that he might hear more about the tenderhearted comforter, the friend of children, the kind and helpful patron of the poor, the sorrowful, and the oppressed. assemblies of any kind were prohibited by the new governor; but the law of aelius marcianus allowed gatherings for religious purposes, and the learned lawyer, johannes, directed his fellow-christians to rely on that. all alexandria was bidden to these meetings, and the text with which andreas opened the first, "now the fullness of time is come," passed from mouth to mouth. apart from that period which had preceded the birth of christ, these words applied to none better than to the days of death and terror which they had just gone through. had a plainer boundary-stone ever been erected between a past and a future time? out of the old vain and careless life, which had ended with such fearful horrors, a new life would now proceed of peace and love and pious cares. the greater number of the citizens, and at their head the wealthy and proud, still crowded the heathen temples to serve the old gods and purchase their favor with offerings; still, the christian churches were too small and few to hold the faithful, and these had risen to higher consideration, for the community no longer consisted exclusively of the lower rank of people and slaves. no, men and women of the best families came streaming in, and this creed--as was proclaimed by demetrius, the eloquent bishop; by origen, who in power and learning--was the superior of any heathen philosopher; by the zealous andreas, and many another chosen spirit--this creed was the religion of the future. the freedman had never yet lived in such a happy and elevated frame of mind; as he looked back on his past existence he often remembered with thankful joy the promise that the last should be first, and that the lowly should be exalted. if the dead had risen from their graves before his eyes it would scarcely have surprised him, for in these latter days he had seen wonder follow on wonder. the utmost his soul had so fervently desired, for which he had prayed and longed, had found fulfillment in a way which far surpassed his hopes; and through what blood and fear had the lord led his own, to let them reach the highest goal! he knew from the lady euryale that his desire to win melissa's soul to the true faith had been granted, and that she craved to be baptized. this had not been confirmed by the girl herself, for, attacked by a violent fever, she had during nine days hovered between life and death; and since then andreas had for more than a week been detained in the town arranging affairs for polybius. the task was now ended which he had set himself to carry through. he could leave the city and see once more the young people he loved. he parted from polybius and his sister at the garden gate, and led heron and old dido to a small cottage which his former master had given him to live in. the gem-cutter was not to be allowed to see his children till the leech should give leave, and the unfortunate man could not get over his surprise and emotion at finding in his new home not only a work-table, with tools, wax, and stones, but several cages full of birds, and among these feathered friends a starling. his faithful and now freed slave, argutis, had, by polybius's orders, supplied everything needful; but the birds were a thought of the christian girl agatha. all this was a consolation in his grief, and when the gem-cutter was alone with old dido he burst into sobs. the slave woman followed his example, but he stopped her with loud, harsh scolding. at first she was frightened; but then she exclaimed with delight from the very bottom of her faithful heart, "the gods be praised!" and from the moment when he could storm, she always declared, heron's recovery began. ........................ the sun was setting when andreas made his way to zeno's house--a long, white-washed building. the road led through a palm-grove on the christian's estate. his anxiety to see the beloved sufferers urged him forward so quickly that he presently overtook another man who was walking in the same direction in the cool of the evening. this was ptolemaeus, the physician. he greeted andreas with cheerful kindness, and the freedman knew what he meant when, without waiting to be asked, he said: "we are out of the wood now; the fever has passed away. the delirious fancies have left her, and since noon she has slept. when i quitted her an hour ago she was sleeping soundly and quietly. till now the shaken soul has been living in a dream; but now that the fever has passed away, she will soon be herself again. as yet she has recognized no one; neither agatha nor the lady euryale; not even diodoros, whom i allowed to look at her yesterday for a moment. we have taken her away from the large house in the garden, on account of the children, to the little villa opposite the place of worship. it is quiet there, and the air blows in on her through the open veranda. the empress herself could not wish for a better sick-room. and the care agatha takes of her! you are right to hasten. the last glimmer of sunshine is extinct, and divine service will soon begin. i am satisfied with diodoros too; youth is a soil on which the physician reaps easy laurels. what will it not heal and strengthen! only when the soul is so deeply shaken, as with melissa and her brother, matters go more slowly, even with the young. however, as i said, we are past the crisis." "god be praised!" said andreas. "such news makes me young again. i could run like a boy." they now entered the well-kept gardens which lay behind zeno's house. noble clumps of tall old trees rose above the green grass plots and splendid shrubs. round a dancing fountain were carefully kept beds of beautiful flowers. the garden ended at a palmgrove, which cast its shade on zeno's little private place of worship --an open plot inclosed by tamarisk hedges like walls. the little villa in which melissa lay was in a bower of verdure, and the veranda with the wide door through which the bed of the sufferer had been carried in, stood open in the cool evening to the garden, the palm-grove, and the place of worship with its garland, as it were, of fragile tamarisk boughs. agatha was keeping watch by melissa; but as the last of the figures, great and small, who could be seen moving across the garden, all in the same direction, disappeared behind the tamarisk screen, the young christian looked lovingly down at her friend's pale and all too delicate face, touched her forehead lightly with her lips, and whispered to the sleeper, as though she could hear her voice: "i am only going to pray for you and your brother." and she went out. a few moments later the brazen gong was heard--muffled out of regard for the sick--which announced the hour of prayer to the little congregation. it had sounded every evening without disturbing the sufferer, but tonight it roused her from her slumbers. she looked about her in bewilderment and tried to rise, but she was too weak to lift herself. terror, blood, diodoros wounded, andreas, the ass on which she had ridden that night, were the images which first crowded on her awakening spirit in bewildering confusion. she had heard that piercing ring of smitten brass in the serapeum. was she still there? had she only dreamed of that night-ride with her wounded lover? perhaps she had lost consciousness in the mystic chambers, and the clang of the gong had roused her. and she shuddered. in her terror she dared not open her eyes for fear of seeing on all hands the hideous images on the walls and ceiling. merciful gods! if her flight from the serapeum and the rescue of diodoros by andreas had really been but a dream, then the door might open at any moment, and the egyptian zminis or his men might come in to drag her before that dreadful caesar. she had half recovered consciousness several times, and as these thoughts had come over her, her returning lucidity had vanished and a fresh attack of fever had shaken her. but this time her head seemed clearer; the cloud and humming had left her which had impeded the use of her ears and eyes. her brain too had recovered its faculties. as soon as she tried to think, her restored intelligence told her that if she were indeed still in the serapeum and the door should open, the lady euryale might come in to speak courage to her and take her in her motherly arms, and--and she suddenly recollected the promise which had come to her from the scriptures of the christians. it stood before her soul in perfect clearness that she had found a loving comforter in the saviour; she remembered how gladly she had declared to the lady euryale that the fullness of time had now indeed come to her, and that she had no more fervent wish than to become a fellow-believer with her kind friend-a baptized christian. and all the while she felt as though light were spreading in her and around her, and the vision she had last seen when she lost consciousness rose again before her inward eye. again she saw the redeemer as he had stood before her at the end of her ride, stretching out his arms to her in the darkness, inviting her, who was weary and heavy laden, to be refreshed by him. a glow of thankfulness warmed her heart, and she closed her eyes once more. but she did not sleep; and while she lay fully conscious, with her hands on her bosom as it rose and fell regularly with her deep breathing, thinking of the loving teacher, of the christians, and of all the glorious promises she had read in the sermon on the mount, and which were addressed to her too, she could fancy that her head rested on euryale's shoulder, while she saw the form of the saviour robed in light and beckoning to her. her whole frame was wrapped in pleasant languor. just so had she felt once before-she remembered it well--and she remembered when it was. she had felt just as she did now after her lover had for the first time clasped her to his heart, when, as night came on, she had sat by his side on the marble bench, while the christian procession passed. she had taken the chanting train for the wandering souls of the dead and--how strange! no--she was not mistaken. she heard at this moment the selfsame strain which they had then sung so joyfully, in spite of its solemn mode. she did know when it had begun, but again it filled her with a bitter-sweet sense of pity. only it struck deeper now than before, for she knew now that it applied to all human beings, since they were all the children of the same kind father, and her own brethren and sisters. but whence did the wonderful music proceed--was she--and a shock of alarm thrilled her at the thought--was she numbered with the dead? had her heart ceased to beat when the saviour had taken her in his arms after her ride through blood and darkness, when all had grown dim to her senses? was she now in the abode of the blest? andreas had painted it as a glorious place; and yet she shuddered at the thought. but was not that foolish? if she were really dead, all terror and pain were at an end. she would see her mother once more; and whatever might happen to those she loved, she might perhaps be suffered to linger near them, as she had done on earth, and hope with assurance to meet them again here, sooner or later. but no! her heart was beating still; she could feel how strongly it throbbed. then where was she? there certainly had not been any such coverlet as this on her bed in the serapeum, and the room there was much lower. she looked about her and succeeded in turning on her side toward the evening breeze which blew in on her, so pure and soft and sweet. she raised her delicate emaciated hand to her head and found that her thick hair was gone. then she must have cut it off to disguise herself. but where was she? whither had she fled? it mattered not. the serapeum was far away, and she need no longer fear zminis and his spies. now for the first time she raised her eyes thankfully to heaven, and next she looked about her; and while she gazed and let her eyes feed themselves full, a faint cry of delight escaped her lips. before her, in the silvery light of the bright disk of the young moon lay a splendid blooming garden, and over the palms which towered above all else, in shadowy masses, in the distance the evening star was rising just in front, the moonlight twinkled and flashed in the rising and falling drops of the fountain; and as she lay, stirred to the depths of her soul by this silent splendor, thinking of kindly selene moving on her peaceful path above, of artemis hunting in the moonlight, of the nymphs of the waters, and the dryads just now perhaps stealing out of the great trees to dance with sportive fauns, the chant suddenly broke out again in solemn measure, and she heard, to deep manly voices, the beginning of the psalm: "give thanks unto the lord and declare his name; proclaim his wonders among the nations. "sing of him and praise him; tell of all his wonders; glorify his holy name; their hearts rejoice that seek the lord." here the men ceased and the women began as though to confirm their praise of the most high, singing the ninetieth psalm with enthusiastic joy: "o lord, thou hast been our dwelling-place in all generations. "before the mountains were brought forth, or, ever thou hadst formed the earth and the world, even from everlasting to everlasting, thou art god. "for a thousand years in thy sight are but as yesterday when it is passed, and as a watch in the night." then the men's voices broke in again "the heavens declare the glory of god and the firmament showeth his handiwork. "day unto day uttereth speech, and night unto night showeth knowledge." and the women in their turn took up the chant, and from their grateful breasts rose clear and strong the psalm of david: "bless the lord, o my soul, and all that is within me, bless his holy name. "bless the lord, o my soul, and forget not all his benefits. "who forgiveth all thine iniquities; who healeth all thy diseases. "who redeemeth thy life from destruction; who crowneth thee with lovingkindness and tender mercies." melissa listened breathlessly to the singing, of which she could hear every word; and how gladly would she have mingled her voice with theirs in thanksgiving to the kind father in heaven who was hers as well as theirs! there lay his wondrous works before her, and her heart echoed the verse: "who redeemeth thy life from destruction; who crowneth thee with lovingkindness and tender mercies," as though it were addressed especially to her and sung for her by the choir of women. the gods of whom she had but just been thinking with pious remembrance appeared to her now as beautiful, merry, sportive children, as graceful creatures of her own kind, in comparison with the almighty creator and ruler of the universe, whose works among the nations, whose holy name, whose wonders, greatness, and loving-kindness these songs of praise celebrated. the breath of his mouth dispersed the whole world of gods to whom she had been wont to pray, as the autumn wind scatters the manytinted leaves of faded trees. she felt as though he embraced the garden before her with mighty and yet loving arms, and with it the whole world. she had loved the olympian gods; but in this hour, for the first time, she felt true reverence for one god, and it made her proud to think that she might love this mighty lord, this tender father, and know that she was beloved by him. her heart beat faster and faster, and she felt as though, under the protection of this god, she need never more fear any danger. as she looked out again at the palm-trees beyond the tamarisks, above whose plumy heads the evening star now rode in the azure blue of the night sky, the singing was taken up again after a pause; she heard once more the angelic greeting which had before struck her soul as so comforting and full of promise when she read it in the gospel: "glory to god on high, on earth peace, good-will toward men." that which she had then so fervently longed for had, she thought, come to pass. the peace, the rest for which she had yearned so miserably in the midst of terror and bloodshed, now filled her heart-all that surrounded her was so still and peaceful! a wonderful sense of home came over her, and with it the conviction that here she would certainly find those for whom she was longing. again she looked up to survey the scene, and she was now aware of a white figure coming toward her from the tamarisk hedge. this was euryale. she had seen agatha among the worshipers, and had quitted the congregation, fearing that the sick girl might wake and find no one near her who cared for her or loved her. she crossed the grass plot with a swift step. she had passed the fountain; her head came into the moonlight, and melissa could see the dear, kind face. with glad excitement she called her by name, and as the matron entered the veranda she heard the convalescent's weak voice and hastened to her side. lightly, as if joy had made her young again, she sank on her knees by the bed of the resuscitated girl to kiss her with motherly tenderness and press her head gently to her bosom. while melissa asked a hundred questions the lady had to warn her to remain quiet, and at last to bid her to keep silence. first of all melissa wanted to know where she was. then her lips overflowed with thankfulness and joy, and declarations that she felt as she was sure the souls in bliss must feel, when euryale had told her in subdued tones that her father was living, that diodoros and her brother had found a refuge in the house of zeno, and that andreas, polybius, and all dear to them were quite recovered after those evil days. the town had long been rid of caesar, and zeno had consented to allow his daughter agatha to marry alexander. in obedience to her motherly adviser, the convalescent remained quiet for a while; but joy seemed to have doubled her strength, for she desired to see agatha, alexander, and andreas, and--she colored, and a beseeching glance met euryale's eyes--and diodoros. but meanwhile the physician ptolemaeus had come into the room, and he would allow no one to come near her this evening but zeno's daughter. his grave eyes were dim with tears as, when taking leave, he whispered to the lady euryale: "all is well. even her mind is saved." he was right. from day to day and from hour to hour her recovery progressed and her strength improved. and there was much for her to see and hear, which did her more good than medicine, even though she had been moved to fresh grief by the death of her brother and many friends. like melissa, her lover and alexander had been led by thorny paths to the stars which shine on happy souls and shed their light in the hearts of those to whom the higher truth is revealed. it was as christians that diodoros and alexander both came to visit the convalescent. that which had won so many alexandrians to the blessings of the new faith had attracted them too, and the certainty of finding their beloved among the christians had been an added inducement to crave instruction from zeno. and it had been given them in so zealous and captivating a manner that, in their impressionable hearts, the desire for learning had soon been turned to firm conviction and inspired ardor. agatha was betrothed to alexander. the scorn of his fellow-citizens, which had fallen on the innocent youth and which he had supposed would prevent his ever winning her love, had in fact secured it to him, for agatha's father was very ready to trust his child to the man who had rescued her, whom she loved, and in whom he saw one of the lowly who should be exalted. alexander was not told of philip's death till his own wounds were healed; but he had meanwhile confided to andreas that he had made up his mind to fly to a distant land that he might never again see agatha, and thus not rob the brother on whom he had brought such disaster of the woman he loved. the freedman had heard him with deep emotion, and within a few hours after andreas had reported to zeno the self-sacrificing youth's purpose, zeno had gone to alexander and greeted him as his son. melissa found in agatha the sister she had so long pined for; and how happy it made her to see her brother's eyes once more sparkle with gladness! alexander, even as a christian and as agatha's husband, remained an artist. the fortune accumulated by andreas--the solidi with which he had formerly paid the scapegrace painter's debts included--was applied to the erection of a new and beautiful house of god on the spot where heron's house had stood. alexander decorated it with noble pictures, and as this church was soon too small to accommodate the rapidly increasing congregation, he painted the walls of yet another, with figures whose extreme beauty was famous throughout christendom, and which were preserved and admired till gloomy zealots prohibited the arts in churches and destroyed their works. melissa could not be safe in alexandria. after being quietly married in the house of polybius, she, with her young husband and andreas, moved to carthage, where an uncle of diodoros dwelt. love went them, and, with love, happiness. they were not long compelled to remain in exile; a few months after their marriage news was brought to carthage that caesar had been murdered by the centurion martialis, prompted by the tribunes apollinaris and nemesianus aurelius. immediately on this, macrinus, the praetorian prefect, was proclaimed emperor by the troops. the ambitious man's sovereignty lasted less than a year; still, the prophecy of serapion was fulfilled. it cost the magian his life indeed; for a letter written by him to the prefect, in which he reminded him of what he had foretold, fell into the hands of caracalla's mother, who opened the letters addressed to her ill-fated son at antioch, where she was then residing. the warning it contained did not arrive, however, till after caesar's death, and before the new sovereign could effectually protect the soothsayer. as soon as macrinus had mounted the throne the persecution of those who had roused the ire of the unhappy caracalla was at an end. diodoros and melissa, heron and polybius, could mingle once more with their fellow-citizens secure from all pursuit. diodoros and other friends took care that the suspicion of treachery which had been cast on heron's household should be abundantly disproved. nay, the death of philip, and melissa's and alexander's evil fortunes, placed them in the ranks of the foremost foes of tyranny. within ten months of his accession macrinus was overthrown, after his defeat at immae, where, though the praetorians still fought for him bravely, he took ignominious flight; julia domna's grandnephew was then proclaimed caesar by the troops, under the name of heliogabalus, and the young emperor of fourteen had a statue and a cenotaph erected at alexandria to caracalla, whose son he was falsely reputed to be. these two works of art suffered severely at the hands of those on whom the hated and luckless emperor had inflicted such fearful evils. still, on certain memorial days they were decked with beautiful flowers; and when the new prefect, by order of caracalla's mother, made inquiry as to who it was that laid them there, he was informed that they came from the finest garden in alexandria, and that it was melissa, the wife of the owner, who offered them. this comforted the heart of julia domna, and she would have blessed the donor still more warmly if she could have known that melissa included the name of her crazed son in her prayers to her dying day. old heron, who had settled on the estate of diodoros and lived there among his birds, less surly than of old, still produced his miniature works of art; he would shake his head over those strange offerings, and once when he found himself alone with old dido, now a freed-woman, he said, irritably: "if that little fool had done as i told her she would be empress now, and as good as julia domna. but all has turned out well-only that argutis, whom every one treats as if our old macedonian blood ran in his veins, was sent yesterday by melissa with finer flowers for caracalla's cenotaph than for her own mother's tomb--may her new-fangled god forgive her! there is some christian nonsense at the bottom of it, no doubt. i stick to the old gods whom my olympias served, and she always did the best in everything." old polybius, too, remained a heathen; but he allowed the children to please themselves. he and heron saw their grandchildren brought up as christians without a remonstrance, for they both understood that christianity was the faith of the future. andreas to his latest day was ever the faithful adviser of old and young alike. in the sunshine of love which smiled upon him his austere zeal turned to considerate tenderness. when at last he lay on his death-bed, and shortly before the end, melissa asked him what was his favorite verse of the scriptures, he replied firmly and decidedly: "now the fullness of time is come." "so be it," replied melissa with tears in her eyes. he smiled and nodded, signed to diodoros to draw off his signet ring--the only thing his father had saved from the days of his wealth and freedom--and desired melissa to keep it for his sake. deeply moved, she put it on her finger; but andreas pointed to the motto, and said with failing utterance: "that is your road--and mine--my father's motto: per aspera ad astra. it has guided me to my goal, and you--all of you. but the words are in latin; you understand them? by rough ways to the stars--nay what they say to me is: upward, under the burden of the cross, to bliss here and hereafter--and you too," he added, looking in his darling's face. "you too, both of you; i know it." he sighed deeply, and, laying his hand on melissa's head as she knelt by his bed, he closed his faithful eyes in the supporting arms of diodoros. this ebook was produced by david widger <widger@cecomet.net> [note: there is a short list of bookmarks, or pointers, at the end of the file for those who may wish to sample the author's ideas before making an entire meal of them. d.w.] a thorny path by georg ebers volume 2. chapter v. the crowds on the road were now homeward bound, and they were all in such wild, high spirits that, from what was to be seen and heard, it could never have been supposed that they had come from so mournful a scene. they took the road by the sea leading from the nekropolis to eleusis, wandering on in the glowing moonlight. a great procession of greeks had been to eleusis, to celebrate the mysteries after the manner of the greek eleusis, on which that of alexandria was modeled. the newly initiated, and the elder adepts, whose duty it was to superintend their reception, had remained in the temple; but the other mystics now swelled the train of those who were coming from the city of the dead. here, indeed, serapis took the place of pluto, and much that was greek had assumed strange and egyptian forms: even the order of the ceremonies had been entirely changed; still, on the african, as on the attic shore, the greek cry went up, "to the sea, o mystics!" and the bidding to iakchos: "be with us, o iakchos!" it could be heard from afar, but the voices of the shouters were already weary, and most of the torches had burned low. the wreaths of ivy and myrtle in their hair were limp; the singers of the hymn no longer kept their ranks; and even iambe, whose jests had cheered the mourning demeter, and whose lips at eleusis had overflowed with witticisms, was exhausted and silent. she still held in her hand the jar from which she had given the bereaved goddess a reviving draught, but it was empty and she longed for a drink. she was indeed a he: for it was a youth in woman's dress who played the rollicking part of iambe, and it was alexander's friend and comrade diodoros who had represented the daughter of pan and echo, who, the legend said, had acted as slave in the house of metaneira, the eleusinian queen, when demeter took refuge there. his sturdy legs had good reason to be as weary as his tongue, which had known no rest for five hours. but he caught sight of the large vehicle drawn by four horses, in which the vast corn-measure, the kalathos, which serapis wore as his distinguishing head-gear, had been conveyed to eleusis. it was empty now, for the contents had been offered to the god, and the four black horses had an easy task with the great wagon. no one had as yet thought of using it as a conveyance back to the town; but diodoros, who was both ingenious and tired, ran after it and leaped up. several now wanted to follow his example, but he pushed them off, even thrusting at them with a newly lighted torch, for he could not be quiet in spite of his fatigue. in the midst of the skirmishing he perceived his friend and melissa. his heart had been given to the gentle girl ever since they had been playmates in his father's garden, and when he saw her, walking along downcast, while her brother sported with his neighbor's daughters, he beckoned to her, and, as she refused to accompany him in the wagon, he nimbly sprang off, lifted her up in his arms, made strong by exercise in the palaestra, and gently deposited her, in spite of her struggles, on the flat floor of the car, by the side of the empty kalathos. "the rape of persephone!" he cried. "the second performance in one. night!" then the old reckless spirit seized alexander too. with as much gay audacity--as though he were free of every care and grief, and had signed a compact with fortune, he picked up pretty ino, lifted her into the wagon, as diodoros had done with his sister, and exclaiming, "the third performance!" seated himself by her side. his bold example found immediate imitators. "a fourth!" "a fifth!" cried one and another, shouting and laughing, with loud calls on iakchos. the horses found it hard work, for all along the edge of the car, and round the kalathos of the great serapis, sat the merry young couples in close array. alexander and melissa soon were wreathed with myrtle and ivy. in the vehicle and among the crowd there were none but radiant and frolicsome faces, and no sound but triumphant revelry. fatigue was forgotten; it might have been supposed that the sinister sisters, care and sorrow, had been banished from earth. there was a smile even on melissa's sweet, calm face. at first her old friend's audacious jest had offended her maidenly coyness; but if diodoros had always loved her, so had she always loved him; and as other well-conducted girls had been content to have the like done to them, and her companion so confidently and roguishly sued for pardon, she gave him a smile which filled his heart with rapture, and said more than words. it was a comfort, too, to sit still and rest. she spoke but little, but even she forgot what troubled her when she felt her friend's hand on hers, and he whispered to her that this was the most delightful night he had ever known, and that, of all the sweets the gods had created, she was to him the sweetest? the blue sea spread before them, the full moon mirrored on its scarcely heaving surface like a tremulous column of pure and shining silver. the murmur of the ripples came up from the strand as soothing and inviting as the song of the nereids; and if a white crest of foam rose on a wave, she could fancy it was the arm of thetis or galatea. there, where the blue was deepest, the sea-god glaukos must dwell, and his heart be gladdened by the merry doings on shore. nature is so great; and as the thought came to her that her heart was not too small to take its greatness in, even to the farthest horizon, it filled her with glad surprise. and nature was bountiful too. melissa could see the happy and gracious face of a divinity in everything she looked upon. the immortals who had afflicted her, and whom she had often bitterly accused, could be kind and merciful too. the sea, on whose shining surface the blue vault of heaven with the moon and stars rocked and twinkled, the soft breeze which fanned her brow, the new delicious longing which filled her heart-all she felt and was conscious of, was a divinity or an emanation of the divine. mighty poseidon and majestic zeus, gentle selene, and the sportive children of the god of winds, seemed to be strangely near her as she rode along. and it was the omnipotent son of kypris, no doubt, who stirred her heart to beat higher than it had ever done before. her visit to her mother's grave, too, her prayer and her offerings there, had perhaps moved the spirit of the beloved dead to hover near her now as a guardian genius. still, now and again the memory of something terrible passed over her soul like a sweeping shadow; but what it was which threatened her and those dear to her she did not see, and would not now inquire. what the morrow might bring should not cloud the enchantment of this hour. for oh, how fair the world was, and how blessed might mortals be! "iakchos! iakchos!" the voices about her shouted, and it sounded as gleeful as though the breasts of the revelers were overflowing with gladness; and as the scented curls of diodoros bent over her head, as his hand closed on hers, and his whispered words of love were in her ear, she murmured: "alexander is right; the world is a banqueting-hall, and life is fair." "so fair!" echoed the youth, pensively. then he shouted aloud to his companions: "the world is a banqueting-hall! bring roses, bring wine, that we may sacrifice to eros, and pour libations to dionysus. light the flaming torches! iakchos! come, iakchos, and sanctify our glad festival!" "come, iakchos, come!" cried one and another, and soon the enthusiastic youth's cry was taken up on all sides. but wine-skin and jar were long since emptied. hard by, below the cliff, and close to the sea, was a tavern, at the sign of the cock. here cool drink was to be had; here the horses might restfor the drivers had been grumbling bitterly at the heavy load added to the car over the deep sand--and here there was a level plot, under the shade of a spreading sycamore, which had often before now served as a floor for the choric dance. the vehicle soon drew up in front of the whitewashed inn, surrounded on three sides by a trellised arbor, overgrown with figs and vine. the young couples sprang to the ground; and, while the host and his slave dragged up a huge wine-jar with two ears, full of the red juice of the grape, fresh torches were lighted and stuck on poles or fastened to the branches of the sycamore, the youths took their places eager for the dance, and suddenly the festal song went up from their clear throats unbidden, and as though inspired by some mysterious power: iakchos, come! oh, come, iakchos! hither come, to the scene of our revel, the gladsome band of the faithful. shake the fragrant, berried garland, myrtle-twined, that crowns thy love-locks, shedding its odors! tread the measure, with fearless stamp, of this our reckless, rapturous dance, in holy rejoicing! hand in hand, thrice beatified, lo we thread the rhythmic, fanciful, mystical mazes! and the dance begins. youths and maidens advance to meet each other with graceful movements. every step must be a thing of beauty, every bend and rising, while the double flutes play faster and faster, and the measured rhythm becomes a wild whirl. they all know the dance, and the music is a guide to the feeling to be expressed; the dancing must be suited to it. every gesture is a stroke of color which may beautify or mar the picture. body and spirit are in perfect harmony, combining to represent the feelings that stir the soul. it is a work of art, the art of the arms and feet. even when passion is at the highest the guiding law is observed. nay, when the dancers fly wildly apart, they, not merely come together again with unerring certainty, but form in new combination another delightful and perfectly harmonious picture. "seek and find" this dance might be called, for the first idea is to represent the wandering of demeter in search of her daughter persephone, whom pluto has carried off to the nether world, till she finds her and clasps her in her motherly arms once more. thus does the earth bewail the reaped fruit of the field, which is buried in the ground in the winter sowing, to rise again in the spring; thus does a faithful heart pine during absence till it is reunited to the beloved one; thus do we mourn our dead till our soul is assured of their resurrection: and this belief is the end and clew to the mystery. all this grief and search, this longing and crying for the absent, this final restoration and the bliss of new possession, is set forth by the youths and damsels-now in slow and now in vehement action, but always with infinite grace. melissa threw her whole soul into the dance while demeter was seeking the lost persephone, her thoughts were with her brothers; and she laughed as heartily as any one at the jests with which iambe cheered the stricken mother. and when the joy of meeting was to find expression, she need not think of anything but the fact that the youth who held out his hand to her loved her and cared for her. in this, for the moment, lay the end of all her longing and seeking, the fulfillment of every wish; and as the chorus shouted, "iakchos!" again and again, her soul seemed to have taken wings. the reserve of her calm and maidenly nature broke down; in her ecstasy she snatched from her shoulder the wreath of ivy with which diodoros had decked her, and waved it aloft. her long hair had fallen loose in the dance and flowed wildly about her, and her shout of "iakchos!" rang clear in the night air. the youth she loved gazed at her with ravished eyes, as at some miracle; she, heedless of the others, threw her arms round his neck, and, as he kissed her, she said once more, but loud enough now to be heard from afar, "the world is a banqueting-hall!" and again she joined in the shout of "iakchos!" her eyes bright with excitement. cups filled high with wine now circulated among the mad-cap mystics; even melissa refreshed herself, handing the beaker to her lover, and diodoros raised to his mouth that place on the rim which her lips had touched. "o life! fount of joys!" cried diodoros, kissing her and pressing her closer to him. "come, iakchos! behold with envy how thankfully two mortals can bless the gift of life. but where is alexander? to none but to our andreas have i ever confided the secret i have borne in my heart since that day when we went to the circus. but now! oh, it is so much happiness for two hearts! my friend, too, must have part in it!" at this melissa clasped her hand to her brow, as though waking from a dream. how hot she was from dancing, and the unusual strength of the wine and water she had drunk! the danger impending over both her brothers came back to her mind. she had always been accustomed to think of others rather than herself, and her festal mood dropped from her suddenly, like a mantle of which the brooch breaks. she vehemently shook herself free of her lover's embrace, and her eyes glanced from one to another in rapid search. there stood pretty ino, who had danced the mazy measure with alexander. panting for breath, she stood leaning her weary head and tangled hair against the trunk of the tree, a wine-cup upside down in her right hand. it must be empty; but where was he who had emptied it? her neighbor's daughter would surely know. had the reckless youth quarreled with the girl? no, no! one of the tavern-keeper's slaves, ino told her, had whispered something to alexander, whereupon he had instantly followed the man into the house. melissa knew that it could be no trivial matter which detained him there, and hurried after him into the tavern. the host, a greek, and his buxom wife, affected not to know for whom she was inquiring; but, perceiving the anxiety which spoke in every line of the girl's face, when she explained that she was alexander's sister, they at first looked at each other doubtingly, and then the woman, who had children of her own, who fondly loved each other, felt her heart swell within her, and she whispered, with her finger on her lips: "do not be uneasy, pretty maid; my husband will see him well through." and then melissa heard that the egyptian, who had alarmed her in the nekropolis, was the spy zminis, who, as her old slave dido had once told her, had been a rejected suitor of her mother's before she had married heron, and who was therefore always glad to bring trouble on all who belonged to her father's house. how often had she heard of the annoyances in which this man had involved her father and alexander, who were apt to be very short with the man! this tale-bearer, who held the highest position as guardian of the peace under the captain of the night-watch, was of all men in the city the most hated and feared; and he had heard her brother speaking of caesar in a tone of mockery which was enough to bring him to prison, to the quarries, nay, to death. glaukias, the sculptor, had previously seen the egyptian on the bridge, where he had detained those who were returning home from the city of the dead. he and his followers had already stopped the poet argeios on his way, but the thyrsus staves of the dionysiac revelers had somewhat spoiled the game for him and his satellites. he was probably still standing on the bridge. glaukias had immediately run back, at any risk, to warn alexander. he and the painter were now in hiding, and would remain in safety, come what might, in the cellar at the cock, till the coast was clear again. the tavern-keeper strongly advised no one to go meddling with his wine-skins and jars. "much less that egyptian dog!" cried his wife, doubling her fist as though the hated mischief-maker stood before her already. "poor, helpless lamb!" she murmured to herself, as she looked compasionately at the fragile, town-bred girl, who stood gazing at the ground as if she had been struck by lightning. she remembered, too, how hard life had seemed to her in her own young days, and glanced with pride at her brawny arms, which were able indeed to work and manage. but what now? the drooping flower suddenly raised her head, as if moved by a spring, exclaiming: "thank you heartily, thank you! but that will never do. if zminis searches your premises he will certainly go into the cellar; for what can he not do in caesar's name? i will not part from my brother." "then you, too, are a welcome guest at the cock," interrupted the woman, and her husband bowed low, assuring her that the cock was as much her house as it was his. but the helpless town-bred damsel declined this friendly invitation; for her shrewd little head had devised another plan for saving her brother, though the tavern-keepers, to whom she confided it in a whisper, laughed and shook their heads over it. diodoros was waiting outside in anxious impatience; he loved her, and he was her brother's best friend. all that he could do to save alexander he would gladly do, she knew. on the estate which would some day be his, there was room and to spare to hide the fugitives, for one of the largest gardens in the town was owned by his father. his extensive grounds had been familiar to her from her childhood, for her own mother and her lover's had been friends; and andreas, the freedman, the overseer of polybius's gardens and plantations, was dearer to her and her brothers than any one else in alexandria. nor had she deceived herself, for diodoros made alexander's cause his own, in his eager, vehement way; and the plan for his deliverance seemed doubly admirable as proceeding from melissa. in a few minutes alexander and the sculptor were released from their hiding-place, and all further care for them was left to diodoros. they were both very, craftily disguised. no one would have recognized the artists in two sailors, whose phrygian caps completely hid their hair, while a heavy fisherman's apron was girt about their loins; still less would any one have suspected from their laughing faces that imprisonment, if nothing worse, hung over them. their change of garb had given rise to so much fun; and now, on hearing how they were to be smuggled into the town, their merriment grew higher, and proved catching to those who were taken into the secret. only melissa was oppressed with anxious care, in spite of her lover's eager consolation. glaukias, a man of scarcely middle height, was sure of not being recognized, and he and his comrades looked forward to whatever might happen as merely an amusing jest. at the same time they had to balk the hated chief of the city guards and his menials of their immediate prey; but they had played them a trick or two ere now. it might turn out really badly for alexander; still, it was only needful to keep him concealed till caesar should arrive; then he would be safe, for the emperor would certainly absorb all the thoughts and time of the captain of the night-watch and his chief officers. in alexandria, anything once past was so soon forgotten! when once caracalla was gone--and it was to be hoped that he would not stay long--no one would ever think again of any biting speech made before his arrival. the morning must bring what it might, so long as the present moment was gay! so, refreshed and cheered by rest and wine, the party of mystics prepared to set out again; and, as the procession started, no one who did not know it had observed that the two artists, disguised as sailors, were, by melissa's advice, hidden inside the kalathos of serapis, which would easily have held six, and was breast-high even for alexander, who was a tall man. they squatted on the floor of the huge vessel, with a jar of wine between them, and peeped over now and then with a laugh at the girls, who had again seated themselves on the edge of the car. when they were fairly on their way once more, alexander and his companions were so daring that, whenever they could do it unobserved, they pelted the damsels with the remains of the corn, or sprinkled them with wine-drops. glaukias had the art of imitating the pattering of rain and the humming of a fly to perfection with his lips; and when the girls complained of the tiresome insect buzzing in their faces, or declared, when a drop fell on them, that in spite of the blue and cloudless sky it was certainly beginning to rain, the two men had to cover their mouths with their hands, that their laughter might not betray them. melissa, who had comforted ino with the assurance that alexander had been called away quite unexpectedly, was now sitting by her side, and perceived, of course, what tricks the men in the kalathos were playing; but, instead of amusing her, they only made her anxious. every one about her was laughing and joking, but for her all mirth was at an end. fear, indeed, weighed on her like an incubus, when the car reached the bridge and rattled across it. it was lined with soldiers and lictors, who looked closely at each one, even at melissa herself. but no one spoke to her, and when the water lay behind them she breathed more freely. but only for a moment; for she suddenly remembered that they would presently have to pass through the gate leading past hadrian's western wall into the town. if zminis were waiting there instead of on the bridge, and were to search the vehicle, then all would be lost, for he had looked her, too, in the face with those strange, fixed eyes of his; and that where he saw the sister he would also seek the brother, seemed to her quite certain. thus her presence was a source of peril to alexander, and she must at any cost avert that. she immediately put out her hand to diodoros, who was walking at her side, and with his help slipped down from her seat. then she whispered her fears to him, and begged him to quit the party and conduct her home. this was a surprising and delightful task for her lover. with a jesting word he leaped on to the car, and even succeeded in murmuring to alexander, unobserved, that melissa had placed herself under his protection. when they got home, they could tell heron and andreas that the youths were safe in hiding. melissa could explain, to-morrow morning, how everything had happened. then he drew melissa's arm through his, loudly shouted, "iakchos!" and with a swift dance-step soon outstripped the wagon. not fifty paces beyond, large pine torches sent bright flames up skyward, and by their light the girl could see the dreaded gateway, with the statues of hadrian and sabina, and in front of them, in the middle of the road, a horseman, who, as they approached, came trotting forward to meet them on his tall steed. his head towered above every one else in the road; and as she looked up at him her heart almost ceased beating, for her eyes met those of the dreaded egyptian; their white balls showed plainly in his brown, lean face, and their cruel, evil sparkle had stamped them clearly on her memory. on her right a street turned off from the road, and saying in a low tone, "this way," she led diodoros, to his surprise, into the shadow. his heart beat high. did she, whose coy and maidenly austerity before and after the intoxication of the dance had vouchsafed him hardly a kind look or a clasp of the hand-did she even yearn for some tender embrace alone and in darkness? did the quiet, modest girl, who, since she had ceased to be a child, had but rarely given him a few poor words, long to tell him that which hitherto only her bright eyes and the kiss of her pure young lips had betrayed? he drew her more closely to him in blissful expectation; but she shyly shrank from his touch, and before he could murmur a single word of love she exclaimed in terror, as though the hand of the persecutor were already laid on her: "fly, fly! that house will give us shelter." and she dragged him after her into the open doorway of a large building. scarcely had they entered the dark vestibule when the sound of hoofs was heard, and the glare of torches dispelled the darkness outside. "zminis! it is he--he is following us!" she whispered, scarcely able to speak; and her alarm was well founded, for the egyptian had recognized her, and supposed her companion to be alexander. he had ridden down the street with his torchbearers, but where she had hidden herself his keen eyes could not detect, for the departing sound of hoofs betrayed to the breathless listeners that the pursuer had left their hiding-place far behind him. presently the pavement in front of the house which sheltered them rang again with the tramp of the horse, till it died away at last in the direction of hadrian's gate. not till then did melissa lift her hand from her painfully throbbing heart. but the egyptian would, no doubt, have left his spies in the street, and diodoros went out to see if the road was clear. melissa remained alone in the dark entrance, and began to be anxious as to how she could explain her presence there if the inhabitants should happen to discover it; for in this vast building, in spite of the lateness of the hour, there still was some one astir. she had for some minutes heard a murmuring sound which reached her from an inner chamber; but it was only by degrees that she collected herself so far as to listen more closely, to ascertain whence it came and what it could mean. a large number of persons must be assembled there, for she could distinguish several male voices, and now and then a woman's. a door was opened. she shrank closer to the wall, but the seconds became minutes, and no one appeared. at last she fancied she heard the moving of benches or seats, and many voices together shouting she knew not what. then again a door creaked on its hinges, and after that all was so still that she could have heard a needle drop on the floor; and this alarming silence continued till presently a deep, resonant man's voice was audible. the singular manner in which this voice gave every word its full and equal value suggested to her fancy that something was being read aloud. she could distinctly hear the sentence with which the speech or reading began. after a short pause it was repeated somewhat more quickly, as though the speaker had this time uttered it from his own heart. it consisted of these six simple words, "the fullness of the time was come"; and melissa listened no more to the discourse which followed, spoken as it was in a low voice, for this sentence rang in her ears as if it were repeated by an echo. she did not, to be sure, understand its meaning, but she felt as though it must have some deep significance. it came back to her again and again, like a melody which haunts the inward ear against our will; and her meditative fancy was trying to solve its meaning, when diodoros returned to tell her that the street was quite empty. he knew now where they were, and, if she liked, he could lead her by a way which would not take them through the gate. only christians, egyptians, and other common folks dwelt in this quarter; however, since his duty as her protector had this day begun, he would fulfill it to the best of his ability. she went with him out into the street, and when they had gone a little way he clasped her to him and kissed her hair. his heart was full. he knew now that she, whom he had loved when she walked in his father's garden in her little child's tunic, holding her mother's hand, returned his passion. now the time was come for asking whether she would permit him to beg her father's leave to woo her. he stopped in the shadow of a house near, and, while he poured out to her all that stirred his breast, carried away by tender passion, and describing in his vehement way how great and deep his love was, in spite of the utter fatigue which weighed on her body and soul after so many agitations, she felt with deep thankfulness the immense happiness of being more precious than aught else on earth to a dear, good man. love, which had so long lain dormant in her as a bud, and then opened so quickly only to close again under her alarms, unfolded once more and blossomed for him again--not as it had done just now in passionate ecstasy, but, as beseemed her calm, transparent nature, with moderated joy, which, however, did not lack due warmth and winning tenderness. happiness beyond words possessed them both. she suffered him to seal his vows with kisses, herself offering him her lips, as her heart swelled with fervent thanksgiving for so much joy and such a full measure of love. she was indeed a precious jewel, and the passion of his stormy heart was tempered by such genuine reverence that he gladly kept within the bounds which her maidenly modesty prescribed. and how much they had to say to each other in this first opening of their hearts, how many hopes for the future found utterance in words! the minutes flew on and became hours, till at last melissa begged him to quit the marble seat on which they had so long been resting, if indeed her feet could still carry her home. little as it pleased him, he did her bidding. but as they went on he felt that she hung heavy on his arm and could only lift her little feet with the greatest difficulty. the street was too dark for him to see how pale she was; and yet he never took his eyes off her dear but scarcely distinguishable features. suddenly he heard a faint whisper as in a dream, "i can go no farther," and at once led her back to the marble seat. he first carefully spread his mantle over the stone and then wrapped her in it as tenderly as a mother might cover her shivering child, for a cooler breeze gave warning of the coming dawn. he himself crept close under the wall by her side, so as not to be seen, for a long train of people, with servants carrying lanterns before them, now came out of the house they had just left and down the street. who these could be who walked at so late an hour in such solemn silence neither of them knew. they certainly sent up no joyful shout of "iakchos!" no wild lament; no cheerful laughter nor sounds of mourning were to be heard from the long procession which passed along the street, two and two, at a slow pace. as soon as they had passed the last houses, men and women alike began to sing; no leader started them, nor lyre accompanied them, and yet their song went up as though with one voice. diodoros and melissa knew every note sung by the greeks or egyptians of alexandria, at this or any other festival, but this melody was strange to them; and when the young man whispered to the girl, "what is it that they are singing?" she replied, as though startled from sleep, "they are no mere mortals!" diodoros shuddered; he fancied that the procession was floating above the earth; that, if they had been indeed men of flesh and blood, their steps would have been more distinctly audible on the pavement. some of them appeared to him to be taller than common mortals, and their chant was certainly that of another world than this where he dwelt. perhaps these were daimons, the souls of departed egyptians, who, after a midnight visit to those they had left behind them, were returning to the rock tombs, of which there were many in the stony hills to which this street led. they were walking toward these tombs, and not toward the gate; and diodoros whispered his suspicion to his companion, clasping his hand on an amulet in the semblance of an eye, which his egyptian nurse had fastened round his neck long ago with an anubic thread, to protect him against the evil-eye and magic spells. but melissa was listening with such devout attention to the chant that she did not hear him. the fatigue which had reached such a painful climax had, during this peaceful rest, given way to a blissful unconsciousness of self. it was a kind of happiness to feel no longer the burden of exhaustion, and the song of the wanderers was like a cradle-song, lulling her to sweet dreams. it filled her with gladness, and yet it was not glad, not even cheerful. it went to her heart, and yet it was not mournful-not in the least like the passionate lament of isis for osiris, or that of demeter bewailing her daughter. the emotion it aroused in her was a sweetly sorrowful compassion, which included herself, her brothers, her father, her lover, all who were doomed to suffering and death, even the utter stranger, for whom she had hitherto felt no sympathy. and the compassion bore within it a sense of comfort which she could not explain, or perhaps would not inquire into. it struck her, too, now and then, that the strain had a ring as of thanksgiving. it was, no doubt, addressed to the gods, and for that reason it appealed to her, and she would gladly have joined in it, for she, too, was grateful to the immortals, and above all to eros, for the love which had been born in her heart and had found such an ardent return. she sighed as she listened to every note of the chant, and it worked upon her like a healing draught. the struggle of her will against bodily fatigue, and finally against the mental exhaustion of so much bliss, the conviction that her heavy, weary feet would perhaps fail to carry her home, and that she must seek shelter somewhere for the night, had disturbed her greatly. now she was quite calm, and as much at ease as she was at home sitting with her father, her stitching in her hand, while she dreamed of her mother and her childhood in the past. the singing had fallen on her agitated soul like the oil poured by the mariner on the sea to still the foaming breakers. she felt it so. she could not help thinking of the time when she could fall asleep on her mother's bosom in the certainty that tender love was watching over her. the happiness of childhood, when she loved everything she knew-her family, the slaves, her father's birds, the flowers in the little garden, the altar of the goddess to whom she made offering, the very stars in the sky-seemed to come over her, and there she sat in dreamy lassitude, her head on her lover's shoulder, till the last stragglers of the procession, who, were women, many of them carrying little lamps in their hands, had almost all gone past. then she suddenly felt an eager jerk in the shoulder on which her head was resting. "look--look there!" he whispered; and as her eyes followed the direction of his finger, she too started, and exclaimed, "korinna!--did you know her?" "she had often come to my father's garden," he replied, "and i saw her portrait in alexander's room. these are souls from hades that we have seen. we must offer sacrifice, for those to whom they show themselves they draw after them." at this melissa, too, shuddered, and exclaimed in horror: "o diodoros, not to death! we will ask the priests to-morrow morning what sacrifice may redeem us. anything rather than the grave and the darkness of hades!--come, i am strong again now. let us get away from hence and go home." "but we must go through the gate now," replied the youth. "it is not well to follow in the footsteps of the dead." melissa, however, insisted on going on through the street. terrified as she was of the nether world and the disembodied souls, she would on no account risk falling into the hands of the horrible egyptian, who might compel her to betray her brother's hiding-place; and diodoros, who was ashamed to show her the fears which still possessed him, did as she desired. but it was a comfort to him in this horror of death, which had come over him now for the first time in his life, to kiss the maid once more, and hold her warm hand in his as they walked on; while the strange chant of the nocturnal procession still rang in her ears, and now and then the words recurred to her mind which she had heard in the house where the departed souls had gathered together: "the fullness of the time was come." did this refer to the hour when the dead came to the end of their life on earth; or was there some great event impending on the city and its inhabitants, for which the time had now come? had the words anything to do with caesar's visit? had the dead come back to life to witness the scenes which they saw approaching with eyes clearer than those of mortals? and then she remembered korinna, whose fair, pale face had been strangely lighted up by the lamp she carried; and, again, the magian's assurance that the souls of the departed were endowed with every faculty possessed by the living, and that "those who knew" could see them and converse with them. then serapion had been right in saying this; and her hand trembled in her lover's as she thought to herself that the danger which now threatened philip was estrangement from the living through intercourse with the dead. her own dead mother, perhaps, had floated past among these wandering souls, and she grieved to think that she had neglected to look for her and give her a loving greeting. even diodoros, who was not generally given to silent meditation, had his own thoughts to pursue; and so they walked on in silence till suddenly they heard a dull murmur of voices. this startled them, and looking up they saw before them the rocky cliffs in which the egyptians long since, and now in later times the christians, had hewn caves and tombs. from the door of one of these, only a few paces beyond where they stood, light streamed out; and as they were about to pass it a large dog barked. immediately on this a man came out, and in a rough, deep voice asked them the pass-word. diodoros, seized with sudden terror of the dark figure, which he believed to be a risen ghost, took to his heels, dragging melissa with him. the dog flew after them, barking loudly; and when the youth stooped to pick up a stone to scare him off, the angry brute sprang on him and dragged him down. melissa screamed for help, but the gruff voice angrily bade her be silent. far from obeying him, the girl shouted louder than ever; and now, out of the entrance to the cave, close behind the scene of the disaster, came a number of men with lamps and tapers. they were the same daimons whose song she had heard in the street; she could not be mistaken. on her knees, by the side of her lover as he lay on the ground, she stared up at the apparitions. a stone flew at the dog to scare him off, and a second, larger than the first, whisked past her and hit diodoros on the head; she heard the dull blow. at this a cold hand seemed to clutch her heart; everything about her melted into one whirling, colorless cloud. pale as death, she threw up her arms to protect herself, and then, overcome with terror and fatigue, with a faint cry of anguish she lost consciousness. when she opened her eyes again her head was resting in the lap of a kind, motherly woman, while some men were just bearing away the senseless form of diodoros on a bier. chapter vi. the sun had risen an hour since. heron had betaken himself to his workshop, whistling as he went, and in the kitchen his old slave argutis was standing over the hearth preparing his master's morning meal. he dropped a pinch of dill into the barley-porridge, and shook his gray head solemnly. his companion dido, a syrian, whose wavy white hair contrasted strangely with her dark skin, presently came in, and, starting up, he hastily inquired, "not in yet?" "no," said the other woman, whose eyes were full of tears. "and you know what my dream was. some evil has come to her, i am certain; and when the master hears of it--" here she sobbed aloud; but the slave reproved her for useless weeping. "you never carried her in your arms," whimpered the woman. "but often enough on my shoulder," retorted the gaul, for argutis was a native of augusta trevirorum, on the moselle. "assoon as the porridge is ready you must take it in and prepare the master." "that his first fury may fall on me!" said the old woman, peevishly. "i little thought when i was young!" "that is a very old story," said argutis, "and we both know what the master's temper is. i should have been off long ago if only you could make his porridge to his mind. as soon as i have dished it i will go to seek alexander--there is nothing to prevent me--for it was with him that she left the house." at this the old woman dried her tears, and cried "yes, only go, and make haste. i will do everything else. great gods, if she should be brought home dead! i know how it is; she could bear the old man's temper and this moping life no longer, and has thrown herself into the water. "my dream, my dream! here--here is the dish, and now go and find the boy. still, philip is the elder." "he!" exclaimed the slave in a scornful tone. "yes, if you want to know what the flies are talking about! alexander for me. he has his head screwed on the right way, and he will find her if any man in egypt can, and bring her back, alive or dead." "dead!" echoed dido, with a fresh burst of sobs, and her tears fell in the porridge, which argutis, indeed, in his distress of mind had forgotten to salt. while this conversation was going on the gemcutter was feeding his birds. can this man, who stands there like any girl, tempting his favorites to feed, with fond words and whistling, and the offer of attractive dainties, be the stormy blusterer of last night? there is not a coaxing name that he does not lavish on them, while he fills their cups with fresh seed and water; and how carefully he moves his big hand as he strews the little cages with clean sand! he would not for worlds scare the poor little prisoners who cheer his lonely hours, and who have long since ceased to fear him. a turtle-dove takes peas, and a hedge-sparrow picks ants' eggs from his lips; a white-throat perches on his left hand to snatch a caterpillar from his right. the huge man was in his garden soon after sunrise gathering the dewy leaves for his feathered pets. but he talks and plays longest with the starling which his lost wife gave him. she had bought it in secret from the bedouin who for many years had brought shells for sale from the red sea, to surprise her husband with the gift. the clever bird had first learned to call her name, olympias; and then, without any teaching, had picked up his master's favorite lament, "my strength, my strength!" heron regarded this bird as a friend who understood him, and, like him, remembered the never-to-be-forsaken dead. for three years had the gem cutter been a widower, and he still thought more constantly and fondly of his lost wife than of the children she had left him. heron scratched the bird's knowing little head, saying in a tone which betrayed his pity both for himself and his pet "yes, old fellow, you would rather have a soft white finger to stroke you down. i can hear her now, when she would call you 'sweet little pet,' or 'dear little creature.' we shall neither of us ever hear such gentle, loving words again. do you remember how she would look up with her dear sweet face--and was it not a lovely face?--when you called her by her name 'olympias'? how many a time have her rosy lips blown up your feathers, and cried, 'well done, little fellow! '--ay, and she would say 'well done' to me too, when i had finished a piece of work well. ah, and what an eye she had, particularly for art! but now well, the children give me a good word too, now that her lips are silent!" "olympias!" cried the bird loudly and articulately, and the clouds that shadowed the gem-cutter's brow lifted a little, as with an affectionate smile he went on: "yes, yes; you would be glad, too, to have her back again. you call her now, as i did yesterday, standing by her grave--and she sends you her love. "do you hear, little one? peck away at the old man's finger; he knows you mean it kindly, and it does not hurt. i was all alone out there, and selene looked down on us in silence. there was rioting and shouting all round, but i could hear the voice of our dead. she was very near me, and her sad soul showed me that she still cared for me. i had taken a jar of our best wine of byblos under my cloak; as soon as i had poured oil on her gravestone and shed some of the noble liquor, the earth drank it up as though it were thirsty. not a drop was left. yes, little fellow, she accepted the gift; and when i fell on my knees to meditate on her, she vouchsafed replies to many of my questions. "we talked together as we used--you know. and we remembered you, too; i gave you her love. "you understand me, little fellow, don't you? and, i tell you, better times are coming now." he turned from the bird with a sharp movement of annoyance, for the slave-woman came in with the bowl of barley-porridge. "you!" exclaimed heron, in surprise. "where is melissa?" "she will come presently," said the old woman, in a low and doubtful tone. "oh, thanks for the oracle!" said the artist, ironically. "how you mock at a body!" said the old woman. "i meant--but eat first --eat. anger and grief are ill food for an empty stomach." heron sat down to the table and began to eat his porridge, but he presently tossed away the spoon, exclaiming: "i do not fancy it, eating by myself." then, with a puzzled glance at dido, he asked in a tone of vexation: "well, why are you waiting here? and what is the meaning of all that nipping and tugging at your dress? have you broken another dish? no? then have done with that cursed head-shaking, and speak out at once!" "eat, eat," repeated dido, retreating to the door, but heron called her back with vehement abuse; but when she began again her usual complaint, "i never thought, when i was young--" heron recovered the good temper he had been rejoicing in so lately, and retorted: "oh! yes, i know, i have the daughter of a great potentate to wait on me. and if it had only occurred to caesar, when he was in syria, to marry your sister, i should have had his sister-in-law in my service. but at any rate i forbid howling. you might have learned in the course of thirty years, that i do not eat my fellow-creatures. so, now, confess at once what is wrong in the kitchen, and then go and fetch melissa." the woman was, perhaps, wise to defer the evil moment as long as possible. matters might soon change for the better, and good or evil could come only from without. so dido clung to the literal sense of her master's question, and something note-worthy had actually happened in the kitchen. she drew a deep breath, and told him that a subordinate of the night-watch had come in and asked whether alexander were in the house, and where his paintingroom was. "and you gave him an exact description?" asked heron. but the slave shook her head; she again began to fidget with her dress, and said, timidly: "argutis was there, and he says no good can come of the night-watch. he told the man what he thought fit, and sent him about his business." at this heron interrupted the old woman with such a mighty blow of his fist on the table that the porridge jumped in the bowl, and he exclaimed in a fury: "that is what comes of treating slaves as our equals! they begin to think for themselves. a stupid blunder can spoil the best day! the captain of the night-watch, i would have you to know, is a very great man, and very likely a friend of seleukus's, whose daughter alexander has just painted. the picture is attracting some attention.--attention? what am i saying? every one who has been allowed to see it is quite crazy about it. everything else that was on show in the embalmers' hall was mere trash by comparison. often enough have i grumbled at the boy, who would rather be anywhere than here; but, this time, i had some ground for being proud to be his father! and now the captain of the watch sends his secretary, or something of the kind, no doubt, in order to have his portrait, or his wife's or daughter's--if he has one--painted by the artist who did korinna's; and his own father's slave--it drives me mad to think of it--makes a face at the messenger and sends him all astray. i will give argutis a lesson! but by this time, perhaps--just go and fetch him in." with these words heron again dropped his spoon, wiped his beard, and then, seeing that dido was still standing before him as though spellbound, twitching her slave's gray gown, he repeated his order in such angry tones--though before he had spoken to her as gently as if she were one of his own children--that the old woman started violently and made for the door, crouching low and whimpering bitterly. the soft-hearted tyrant was really sorry for the faithful old servant he had bought a generation since for the home to which he had brought his fair young wife, and he began to speak kindly to her, as he had previously done to the birds. this comforted the old woman so much that again she could not help crying; but, notwithstanding the sincerity of her tears, being accustomed of old to take advantage of her master's moods, she felt that now was the time to tell her melancholy story. first of all she would at any rate see whether melissa had not meanwhile returned; so she humbly kissed the hem of his robe and hurried away. "send argutis to me!" heron roared after her, and he returned to his breakfast with renewed energy. he thought, as he ate, of his son's beautiful work, and the foolish selfimportance of argutis, so faithful, and usually, it must be owned, so shrewd. then his eyes fell on melissa's vacant place opposite to him, and he suddenly pushed away his bowl and rose to seek his daughter. at this moment the starling called, in a clear, inviting tone, "olympias!" and this cheered him, reminding him of the happy hour he had passed at his wife's grave and the good augury he had had there. the belief in a better time at hand, of which he had spoken to the bird, again took possession of his sanguine soul; and, fully persuaded that melissa was detained in her own room or elsewhere by some trifling matter, he went to the window and shouted her name; for hers, too, opened on to the garden. and it seemed as though the dear, obedient girl had come at his bidding, for, as he turned back into the room again, melissa was standing in the open door. after the pretty greek greeting, "joy be with you," which she faintly answered, he asked her, as fractiously as though he had spent hours of anxiety, where she had been so long. but he was suddenly silent, for he was astonished to see that she had not come from her room, but, as her dress betrayed, from some long expedition. her appearance, too, had none of the exquisite neatness which it usually displayed; and then--what a state she was in! whence had she come so early in the day? the girl took off the kerchief that covered her head, and with a faint groan pushed her tangled hair off her temples, and her bosom heaved as she panted out in a weary voice: "here i am! but o, father, what a night i have spent!" heron could not for a minute or two find words to answer her. what had happened to the girl? what could it be which made her seem so strange and unlike her self? he gazed at her, speechless, and alarmed by a hundred fearful suspicions. he felt as a mother might who has kissed her child's fresh, healthy lips at night, and in the morning finds them burning with fever. melissa had never been ill from the day of her birth; since she had donned the dress of a full-grown maiden she had never altered; day after day and at all hours she had been the same in her quiet, useful, patient way, always thinking of her brothers, and caring for him rather than for herself. it had never entered into his head to suppose that she could alter; and now, instead of the gentle, contented face with faintly rosy cheeks, he saw a pallid countenance and quivering lips. what mysterious fire had this night kindled in those calm eyes, which alexander was fond of comparing to those of a gazelle? they were sunk, and the dark shadows that encircled them were a shock to his artistic eye. these were the eyes of a girl who had raved like a maenad the night through. had she not slept in her quiet little room; had she been rushing with alexander in the wild bacchic rout; or had something dreadful happened to his son? nothing could have been so great a relief to him as to rave and rage as was his wont, and he felt strongly prompted to do so; but there was something in her which moved him to pity or shyness, he knew not which, and kept him quiet. he silently followed her with his eyes while she folded her mantle and kerchief in her orderly way, and hastily gathered together the stray, curly locks of her hair, smoothed them, and bound them round her head. some one, however, must break the silence, and he gave a sigh of relief when the girl came up to him and asked him, in a voice so husky as to give him a fresh shock: "is it true that a scythian, one of the nightwatch, has been here already?" then he broke out, and it really did him good to give vent to his repressed feelings in an angry speech: "there again--the wisdom of slaves! the so-called scythian brought a message from his master. "the captain of the night-watch--you will see--wishes to honor alexander with a commission." "no, no," interrupted the girl. "they are hunting my brother down. i thank the gods that the scythian should have come; it shows that alexander is still free." the gem-cutter clasped his bushy hair in both hands, for it seemed to him that the room was whirling round. but his old habits still got the better of him; he roared out with all the power of his mighty lungs: "what is that? what do you say? what has alexander done? where have you--both of you-been?" with two long strides the angry man came close up to the terrified girl; the birds fluttered in their cages, and the starling repeated his cries in melancholy tones. heron stood still, pushing his fingers through his thick gray hair, and with a sharp laugh exclaimed: "i came away from her grave full of fresh hopes for better days, and this is how they are fulfilled! i looked for fame, and i find disgrace! and you, hussy! where have you spent this night--where have you come from? i ask you once more!" he raised his fist and shook it close in front of melissa's eyes. she stood before him as pale as death, and with wide-open eyes, from which the heavy tears dropped slowly, one by one, trickling down her cheeks as if they were tired. heron saw them, and his rage melted. he staggered to a seat like a drunken man, and, hiding his face in his hands, moaned aloud, "wretch, wretch that i am!" but his child's soft hand was laid on his head; warm, girlish lips kissed his brow; and melissa whispered beseechingly: "peace, father, peace. all may yet be well. i have something to tell you that will make you glad too; yes, i am sure it will make you glad." her father shrugged his shoulders incredulously, but wanted to know immediately what the miracle was that could smooth his brow. melissa, however, would not tell him till it came in its place in her story. so he had to submit; he drew his seat up to the table, and took up a lump of modeling-wax to keep his restless fingers employed while he listened. she, too, sat down; she could scarcely stand. at first he listened calmly to her narrative; and when she told him of alexander's jest at caesar's expense his face brightened. his alexandrian blood and his relish for a biting speech got the upper hand; he gave a sounding slap on his mighty leg, and exclaimed: "a cursed good thought! but the boy forgot that when zeus only lamed his son it was because he is immortal; while caesar's brother was as feeble a mortal as caracalla himself is said to be at this day." he laughed noisily; but it was for the last time that morning; for hardly had he heard the name of zminis, and learned that it was he who had over heard alexander, than he threw down the wax and started to his feet in horror, crying: "that dog, who dared to cast his eyes on your mother, and persecuted her long after she had shown him the door! that sly mischief-maker! many a time has he set snares in our path. if he succeeds in tightening the noose into which the boy has so heedlessly thrust his head--but first tell me, has he caught him already, or is alexander still at liberty?" but no one, not even argutis, who was still out on the search, could tell him this; and he was now so greatly disturbed that, during the rest of melissa's narrative, he perpetually paced the room, interrupting her now and then with questions or with outbursts of indignation. and then it occurred to him that he ought himself to seek his son, and he occupied himself with getting ready to go out. even when she spoke of the magian, and his conviction that those who know are able to hold intercourse with the souls of the dead, he shrugged his shoulders incredulously, and went on lacing his sandals. but when melissa assured him that not she alone, but diodoros with her, had seen the wandering soul of the departed korinna in the train of ghosts, he dropped the straps he had bound round his ankle, and asked her who this magian was, and where he might be found. however, she knew no more than that his name was serapion, and she briefly described his dignified presence. heron had already seen the man, and he seemed still to be thinking of him, when melissa, with a blush and downcast eyes, confessed that, as soon as he was well again, diodoros was coming to her father to ask her of him in marriage. it was a long story before she came at last to her own concerns, but it was always her way not to think of herself till every one else had had his due. but what about her father? had she spoken inaudibly, or was he really unable to-day to be glad? or what ailed him, that he paid no heed to the news which, even for him, was not without its importance, but, without a word of consent or disapproval, merely bade her go on with her story? melissa called him by name, as if to wake a man from sleep, and asked whether it were indeed possible that he really felt no pleasure in the happy prospect that lay before her, and that she had confessed to him. and now heron lent an ear, and gave her to understand the satisfaction of his fatherly heart by kissing her. this news, in fact, made up for much that was evil, for diodoros was a son-in-law after his own heart, and not merely because he was rich, or because his mother had been so great a friend of olympias's. no, the young man's father was, like himself, one of the old macedonian stock; he had seen his daughter's lover grow to manhood, and there was not in the city a youth he could more heartily welcome. this he freely admitted; he only regretted that when she should set up house with her husband on the other side of the lake, he (heron) would be left as lonely as a statue on its pedestal. his sons had already begun to avoid him like a leper! then, when he heard of what had befallen diodoros, and melissa went on to say that the people who had thrown the stone at the dog were christians, and that they had carried the wounded youth into a large, clean dwelling, where he was being carefully attended when she had left him, heron broke out into violent abuse. they were unpatriotic worshipers of a crucified jew, who multiplied like vermin, and only wanted to turn the good old order of things upside down. but this time they should see--the hypocrites, who pretended to so much humanity, and then set ferocious dogs on peaceful folk!--they should learn that they could not fall on a macedonian citizen without paying for it. he indignantly refused to hear melissa's assurance that none of the christians had set the dog on her lover; she, however, maintained stoutly that it was merely by an unfortunate accident that the stone had hit diodoros and cut his head so badly. she would not have quitted her lover but that she feared lest her prolonged absence should have alarmed her father. heron at last stood still for a minute or two, lost in thought, and then brought out of his chest a casket, from which he took a few engraved gems. he held them carefully up to the light, and asked his daughter: "if i learn from polybius, to whom i am now going, that they have already caught alexander, should i venture now, do you think, to offer a couple of choice gems to titianus, the prefect, to set him free again? he knows what is good, and the captain of the watch is his subordinate." but melissa besought him to give up the idea of seeking out alexander in his hiding-place; for heron, the gem-cutter, was known to every one, and if a man-at-arms should see him he would certainly follow him. as regarded the prefect, he would not apprehend any one this day, for, as her father knew, caesar was to arrive at alexandria at noon, and titianus must be on the spot to meet him with all his train. "but if you want to be out of doors and doing," she added, "go to see philip. bring him to reason, and discuss with him what is to be done." she spoke with firm decision, and heron looked with amazement at the giver of this counsel. melissa had hitherto cared for his comfort in silence, without expressing any opinions of her own, and submitting to be the lightning-conductor for all his evil tempers. he did not rate her girlish beauty very high, for there were no ugly faces in his family nor in that of his deceased olympias. and all the other consolations she offered him he took as a matter of course--nay, he sometimes made them a ground of complaint; for he would occasionally fancy that she wanted to assume the place of his beloved lost wife, and he regarded it as a duty to her to show his daughter, and often very harshly and unkindly, how far she was from filling her mother's place. thus she had accustomed herself to do her duty as a daughter, with quiet and wordless exactitude, looking for no thanks; while he thought he was doing her a kindness merely by suffering her constant presence. that he should ever exchange ideas with his daughter, or ask her opinion, would have seemed to heron absolutely impossible; yet it had come to this, and for the second time this morning he looked in her face with utter amazement. he could not but approve her warning not to betray alexander's hidingplace, and her suggestion that he should go to see his eldest son coincided with an unspoken desire which had been lurking in his mind ever since she had told him of her having seen a disembodied soul. the possibility of seeing her once more, whose memory was dearer to him than all else on earth, had such a charm, that it moved him more deeply than the danger of his son, who was, nevertheless, very dear to his strangely tempered heart. so he answered melissa coolly, as if he were telling her of a decision already formed: "of course! i meant to see philip too; only--" and he paused, for anxiety about alexander again came to the front--" i can not bear to remain in such uncertainty about the boy." at this instant the door opened. the new-comer was andreas, the man to whom diodoros had advised alexander to apply for protection and counsel; and melissa greeted him with filial affection. he was a freedman in her lover's family, and was the steward and manager of his master's extensive gardens and lands, which were under his absolute control. no one could have imagined that this man had ever been a slave; his face was swarthy, but his fine black eyes lighted it up with a glance of firm self reliance and fiery energy. it was the look of a man who might be the moving spirit of one of those rebellions which were frequent in alexandria; there was an imperious ring in his voice, and decision in the swift gestures of his hardened but shapely hands. for twenty years, indeed, he had ruled over the numerous slaves of polybius, who was an easy-going master, and an invalid from gout in his feet. he was at this time a victim to a fresh attack, and had therefore sent his confidential steward into the town to tell heron that he approved of his son's choice, and that he would protect alexander from pursuit. all this andreas communicated in few and business-like words; but he then turned to melissa, and said, in a tone of kindly and affectionate familiarity: "polybius also wishes to know how your lover is being cared for by the christians, and from hence i am going on to see our sick boy." "then ask your friends," the gem-cutter broke in, to keep less ferocious dogs for the future." "that," replied the freedman, "will be unnecessary, for it is not likely that the fierce brute belongs to the community whose friendship i am proud to claim; and, if it does, they will be as much grieved over the matter as we can be." "a christian would never do another an ill turn!" said heron, with a shrug. "never, so far as justice permits," replied andreas, decisively. then he inquired whether heron had any message or news to send to his son; and when the gem-cutter replied that he had not, the freedman was about to go. melissa, however, detained him, saying: "i will go with you if you will allow me." "and i?" said heron, irritably. "it seems to me that children are learning to care less and less what their fathers' views and requirements may be. i have to go to philip. who knows what may happen in my absence? besides--no offense to you, andreas--what concern has my daughter among the christians?" "to visit her lover," replied andreas, sharply. and he added, more quietly: "it will be a pleasure to me to escort her; and your argutis is a faithful fellow, and in case of need would be of more use here than an inexperienced girl. i see no reasonable ground for detaining her, heron. i should like afterwards to take her home with me, across the lake; it would be a comfort to polybius and soothe his pain to have his favorite with him, his future daughter.--get ready, my child." the artist had listened with growing anger, and a swift surge of rage made him long to give the freedman a sharp lesson. but when his glaring eye met the christian's steady, grave gaze, he controlled himself, and only said, with a shrug which sufficiently expressed his feeling that he was surrendering his veto against his better judgment, addressing himself to melissa and ignoring andreas: "you are betrothed, and of age. go, for aught i care, in obedience to him whose wishes evidently outweigh mine. polybius's son is your master henceforth." he folded his mantle, and when the girl hastened to help him he allowed her to do it; but he went on, to the freedman: "and for aught i care, you may take her across the lake, too. it is natural that polybius should wish to see his future daughter. but one thing i may ask for myself: you have slaves and to spare; if anything happens to alexander, let me hear of it at once." he kissed melissa on the head, nodded patronizingly to andreas, and left the house. his soft-hearted devotion to a vision had weakened his combativeness; still, he would have yielded less readily to a man who had once been a slave, but that the invitation to melissa released him of her presence for a while. he was not, indeed, afraid of his daughter; but she need not know that he wanted philip to make him acquainted with serapion, and that through his mediation he hoped at least to see the spirit of the wife he mourned. when he was fairly out of the house he smiled with satisfaction like a school-boy who had escaped his master. chapter vii. melissa, too, had a sense of freedom when she found herself walking by the side of andreas. in the garden of hermes, where her father's house stood, there were few signs of the excitement with which the citizens awaited caesar's arrival. most of those who were out and about were going in the opposite direction; they meant to await the grand reception of caracalla at the eastern end of the city, on his way from the kanopic gate to the gate of the sun. still, a good many--men, women and children--were, like themselves, walking westward, for it was known that caesar would alight at the serapeum. they had scarcely left the house when andreas asked the girl whether she had a kerchief or a veil in the basket the slave was carrying behind her; and on her replying in the affirmative, he expressed his satisfaction; for caracalla's soldiery, in consequence of the sovereign's weakened discipline and reckless liberality, were little better than an unbridled rabble. "then let us keep out of their way," urged melissa. "certainly, as much as possible," said her companion. "at any rate, let us hurry, so as to get back to the lake before the crowd stops the way. "you have passed an eventful and anxious night, my child, and are tired, no doubt." "oh, no!" said she, calmly; "i had some wine to refresh me, and some food with the christians." "then they received you kindly?" "the only woman there nursed diodoros like a mother; and the men were considerate and careful. my father does not know them; and yet--well, you know how much he dislikes them." "he follows the multitude," returned andreas, "the common herd, who hate everything exceptional, everything that disturbs their round of life, or startles them out of the quietude of their dull dreams. woe to those who call by its true name what those blind souls call pleasure and enjoyment as serving to hasten the flight of time--not too long at the most; woe to those who dare raise even a finger against it!" the man's deep, subdued tones were strongly expressive of the wrath within him; and the girl, who kept close to his side, asked with eager anxiety, "then my father was right when he said that you are a member of the christian body?" "yes," he replied, emphatically; and when melissa curiously inquired whether it were true that the followers of the crucified god had renounced their love for home and country, which yet ought to be dear to every true man, andreas answered with a superior smile, that even the founder of the stoa had required not only of his fellow-greeks but of all human beings, that they should regulate their existence by the same laws, since they were brethren in reason and sense. "he was right," added andreas, more earnestly, "and i tell you, child, the time is not far off when men shall no longer speak of roman and greek, of egyptian and syrian, of free men and slaves; when there shall be but one native land, but one class of life for all. yea, the day is beginning to dawn even now. the fullness of the time is come!" melissa looked up at him in amazement, exclaiming: "how strange! i have heard those words once to-day already, and can not get them out of my head. nay, when you confirmed my father's report, i made up my mind to ask you to explain them." "what words?" asked andreas, in surprise. "the fullness of the time is come." "and where did you hear them?" "in the house where diodoros and i took refuge from zminis." "a christian meeting-house," replied andreas, and his expressive face darkened. "but those who assemble there are aliens to me; they follow evil heresies. but never mind--they also call themselves christians, and the words which led you to ponder, stand to me at the very gate of the doctrine of our divine master, like the obelisks before the door of an egyptian temple. paul, the great preacher of the faith, wrote them to the galatians. they are easy to understand; nay, any one who looks about him with his eyes open, or searches his own soul, can scarcely fail to see their meaning, if only the desire is roused in him for something better than what these cursed times can give us who live in them." "then it means that we are on the eve of great changes?" "yes!" cried andreas, "only the word you use is too feeble. the old dull sun must set, to rise again with greater glory." ill at ease, and by no means convinced, melissa looked her excited companion in the face as she replied: "of course i know, andreas, that you speak figuratively, for the sun which lights the day seems to me bright enough; and is not everything flourishing in this gay, busy city? are not its citizens under the protection of the law? were the gods ever more zealously worshiped? is my father wrong when he says that it is a proud thing to belong to the mightiest realm on earth, before whose power barbarians tremble; a great thing to feel and call yourself a roman citizen?" so far andreas had listened to her with composure, but he here interrupted, in a tone of scorn "oh, yes! caesar has made your father, and your neighbor skopas, and every free man in the country a roman citizen; but it is a pity that, while he gave each man his patent of citizenship, he should have filched the money out of his purse." "apion, the dealer, was saying something to that effect the other day, and i dare say it is true. but i can not be persuaded against the evidence of my own eyes, and they light on many good and pleasant things. if only you had been with us to the nekropolis yesterday! every man was honoring the gods after his own manner. some, indeed, were grave enough; still, cheerfulness won the day among the people. most of them were full of the god. i myself, who generally live so quietly, was infected as the mystics came back from eleusis, and we joined their ranks." "'till the spy zminis spoiled your happiness and imperiled your brother's life for a careless speech." "very true!" "and what your brother heedlessly proclaimed," andreas went on, with flashing eyes, "the very sparrows twitter on the house-tops. it is the truth. the sovereign of the roman empire is a thousand times a murderer. some he sent to precede his own brother, and they were followed by all-twenty thousand, it is said--who were attached to the hapless geta, or who even spoke his name. this is the lord and master to whom we owe obedience whom god has set over us for our sins. and when this wretch in the purple shall close his eyes, he, like the rest of the criminals who have preceded him on the throne, will be proclaimed a god! a noble company! when your beloved mother died i heard you, even you, revile the gods for their cruelty; others call them kind. it is only a question of how they accept the blood of the sacrificed beasts, their own creatures, which you shed in their honor. if serapis does not grant some fool the thing he asks, then he turns to the altar of isis, of anubis, of zeus, of demeter. at last he cries to sabazios, or one of the new deities of olympus, who owe their existence to the decisions of the roman senate, and who are for the most part scoundrels and villains. there certainly never were more gods than there are now; and among those of whom the myths tell us things strange enough to bring those who worship them into contempt, or to the gallows, is the countless swarm of good and evil daimons. away with your olympians! they ought to reward virtue and punish vice; and they are no better than corruptible judges; for you know beforehand just what and how much will avail to purchase their favors." "you paint with dark colors," the girl broke in. "i have learned from philip that the pythagoreans teach that not the sacrifice, but the spirit of the offering, is what really matters." "quite right. he was thinking, no doubt, of the miracle-monger of tyana, apollonius, who certainly had heard of the doctrine of the redeemer. but among the thousand nine hundred and ninety, who here bring beasts to the altar, who ever remembers this? quite lately i heard one of our garden laborers ask how much a day he ought to sacrifice to the sun, his god. i told him a keration--for that is what the poor creature earns for a whole day's work. he thought that too much, for he must live; so the god must be content with a tithe, for the taxes to the state on his earnings were hardly more." "the divinity ought no doubt to be above all else to us," melissa observed. "but when your laborer worships the sun, and looks for its benefits, what is the difference between him and you, or me, or any of us, though we call the sun helios or serapis, or what not?" "yes, yes," replied andreas. "the sun is adored here under many different names and forms, and your serapis has swallowed up not only zeus and pluto, but phoebus apollo and the egyptian osiris and ammon, and ra, to swell his own importance. but to be serious, child, our fathers made to themselves many gods indeed, of the sublime phenomena and powers of nature, and worshiped them admiringly; but to us only the names remain, and those who offer to apollo never think of the sun. with my laborer, who is an arab, it is different. he believes the light-giving globe itself to be a god; and you, i perceive, do not think him wholly wrong. but when you see a youth throw the discus with splendid strength, do you praise the discus, or the thrower?" "the thrower," replied melissa. "but phoebus apollo himself guides his chariot with his divine hands." "and astronomers," the christian went on, "can calculate for years to come exactly where his steeds will be at each minute of the time. so no one can be more completely a slave than he to whom so many mortals pray that he will, of his own free-will, guide circumstances to suit them. i, therefore, regard the sun as a star, like any other star; and worship should be given, not to those rolling spheres moving across the sky in prescribed paths, but to him who created them and guides them by fixed laws. i really pity your apollo and the whole host of the olympian gods, since the world has become possessed by the mad idea that the gods and daimons may be moved, or even compelled, by forms of prayer and sacrifices and magic arts, to grant to each worshiper the particular thing on which he may have set his covetous and changeable fancy." "and yet," exclaimed melissa, "you yourself told me that you prayed for my mother when the leech saw no further hope. every one hopes for a miracle from the immortals when his own power has come to an end! thousands think so. and in our city the people have never been more religious than they are now. the singer of the ialemos at the feast of adonis particularly praised us for it." "because they have never been more fervently addicted to pleasure, and therefore have never more deeply dreaded the terrors of hades. the great and splendid zeus of the greeks has been transformed into serapis here, on the banks of the nile, and has become a god of the nether world. most of the ceremonies and mysteries to which the people crowd are connected with death. they hope that the folly over which they waste so many hours will smooth their way to the fields of the blest, and yet they themselves close the road by the pleasures they indulge in. but the fullness of time is now come; the straight road lies open to all mankind, called as they are to a higher life in a new world, and he who follows it may await death as gladly as the bride awaits the bridegroom on her marriage day. yes, i prayed to my god for your dying mother, the sweetest and best of women. but what i asked for her was not that her life might be preserved, or that she might be permitted to linger longer among us, but that the next world might be opened to her in all its glory." at this point the speaker was interrupted by an armed troop which thrust the crowd aside to make way for the steers which were to be slaughtered in the temple of serapis at the approach of caesar. there were several hundred of them, each with a garland about its, neck, and the handsomest which led the train had its horns gilded. when the road was clear again, andreas pointed to the beasts, and whispered to his companion "their blood will be shed in honor of the future god caracalla. he once killed a hundred bears in the arena with his own hand. but i tell you, child, when the fullness of time is come, innocent blood shall no more be shed. you were speaking with enthusiasm of the splendor of the roman empire. but, like certain fruit-trees in our garden which we manure with blood, it has grown great on blood, on the life-juice of its victims. the mightiest realm on earth owes its power to murder and rapine; but now sudden destruction is coming on the insatiate city, and visitation for her sins." "and if you are right--if the barbarians should indeed destroy the armies of caesar," asked melissa, looking up in some alarm at the enthusiast, "what then?" "then we may thank those who help to demolish the crumbling house!" cried andreas, with flashing eyes. "and if it should be so," said the girl, with tremulous anxiety, "what universal ruin! what is there on earth that could fill its place? if the empire falls into the power of the barbarians, rome will be made desolate, and all the provinces laid waste which thrive under her protection." "then," said andreas, "will the kingdom of the spirit arise, in which peace and love shall reign instead of hatred and murder and wars. there shall be one fold and one shepherd, and the least shall be equal with the greatest." "then there will be no more slaves?" asked melissa, in growing amazement. "not one," replied her companion, and a gleam of inspiration seemed to light up his stern features. "all shall be free, and all united in love by the grace of him who hath redeemed us." but melissa shook her head, and andreas, understanding what was passing in her mind, tried to catch her eye as he went on: "you think that these are the impossible wishes of one who has himself been a slave, or that it is the remembrance of past suffering and unutterable wrong which speaks in me? for what right-minded man would not desire to preserve others from the misery which once crushed him to earth with its bitter burden?--but you are mistaken. thousands of freeborn men and women think as i do, for to them, too, a higher power has revealed that the fullness of time is now come. he, the greatest and best, who made all the woes of the world his own, has chosen the poor rather than the rich, the suffering rather than the happy, the babes rather than the wise and prudent; and in his kingdom the last shall be first--yea, the least of the last, the poorest of the poor; and they, child, are the slaves." he ended his diatribe with a deep sigh, but melissa pressed the hand which held hers as they walked along the raised pathway, and said: "poor andreas! how much you must have gone through before polybius set you free!" he only nodded, and they both remained silent till they found themselves in a quiet side street. then the girl looked up at him inquiringly, and began again: "and now you hope for a second spartacus? or will you yourself lead a rebellion of the slaves? you are the man for it, and i can be secret." "if it has to be, why not?" he replied, and his eyes sparkled with a strange fire. but seeing that she shrank from him, a smile passed over his countenance, and he added in a soothing tone: "do not be alarmed, my child; what must come will come, without another spartacus, or bloodshed, or turmoil. and you, with your clear eyes and your kind heart, would you find it difficult to distinguish right from wrong, and to feel for the sorrows of others--? yes, perhaps! for what will not custom excuse and sanctify? you can pity the bird which is shut into a cage too small for it, or the mule which breaks down under too heavy a load, and the cruelty which hurts them rouses your indignation. but for the man whom a terrible fate has robbed of his freedom, often through the fault of another, whose soul endures even greater torments than his despised body, you have no better comfort than the advice which might indeed serve a philosopher, but which to him is bitter mockery: to bear his woes with patience. he is only a slave, bought, or perhaps inherited. which of you ever thinks of asking who gave you, who are free, the right to enslave half of all the inhabitants of the roman empire, and to rob them of the highest prerogative of humanity? i know that many philosophers have spoken of slavery as an injustice done by the strong to the weak: but they shrugged their shoulders over it nevertheless, and excused it as an inevitable evil; for, thought they, who will serve me if my slave is regarded as my equal? you only smile at this confusion of the meditative recluses, but you forget"--and a sinister fire glowed in his eyes--"that the slave, too, has a soul, in which the same feelings stir as in your own. you never think how a proud man may feel whose arm you brand, and whose very breath of life is indignity; or what a slave thinks who is spurned by his master's foot, though noble blood may run in his veins. all living things, even the plants in the garden, have a right to happiness, and only develop fully in freedom, and under loving care; and yet one half of mankind robs the other half of this right. the sum total of suffering and sorrow to which fate had doomed the race is recklessly multiplied and increased by the guilt of men themselves. but the cry of the poor and wretched has gone up to heaven, and now that the fullness of time is come, 'thus far, and no farther,' is the word. no wild revolutionary has been endowed with a giant's strength to burst the bonds of the victims asunder. no, the creator and preserver of the world sent his son to redeem the poor in spirit, and, above all, the brethren and the sisters who are weary and heavy laden. the magical word which shall break the bars of the prisons where the chains of the slaves are heard is love. . . . but you, melissa, can but half comprehend all this," he added, interrupting the ardent flow of his enthusiastic speech. "you can not understand it all. for you, too, child, the fullness of time is coming; for you, too, freeborn though you are, are, i know, one of the heavy laden who patiently suffer the burden laid upon you. you too--but keep close to me; we shall find it difficult to get through this throng." it was, in fact, no easy matter to get across the crowd which was pouring noisily down the street of hermes, into which this narrow way led. how ever, they achieved it, and when melissa had recovered her breath in a quiet lane in rhakotis, she turned to her companion again with the question, "and when do you suppose that your predictions will be fulfilled?" "as soon as the breeze blows which shall shake the overripe fruit from the tree. it may be tomorrow, or not yet, according to the longsuffering of the most high. but the entire collapse of the world in which we have been living is as certain to come as that you are walking here with me!" melissa walked on with a quaking heart, as she heard her friend's tone of conviction; he, however, was aware that the inmost meaning of his words was sealed to her. to his inquiry, whether she could not rejoice in the coming of the glorious time in store for redeemed humanity, she answered, tremulously: "all you hope for is glorious, no doubt, but what shall lead to it must be a terror to all. were you told of the kingdom of which you speak by an oracle, or is it only a picture drawn by your imagination, a vision, and the offspring of your soul's desire?" "neither," said andreas, decidedly; and he went on in a louder voice: "i know it by revelation. believe me, child, it is as certainly true as that the sun will set this night. the gates of the heavenly jerusalem stand open, and if you, too, would fain be blessed--but more of this later. here we are at our journey's end." they entered the christian home, where they found diodoros, on a comfortable couch, in a spacious, shady room, and in the care of a friendly matron. but he was in an evil case. the surgeon thought his wound a serious one; for the heavy stone which had hit him had injured the skull, and the unhappy youth was trembling with fever. his head was burning, and it was with difficulty that he spoke a few coherent words. but his eyes betrayed that he recognized melissa, and that it was a joy to him to see her again; and when he was told that alexander had so far escaped, a bright look lighted up his countenance. it was evidently a comfort to him to gaze on melissa's pretty face; her hand lay in his, and he understood her when she greeted him from her father, and spoke to him of various matters; but the lids ere long closed over his aching eyes. melissa felt that she must leave him to rest. she gently released his hand from her grasp and laid it across his breast, and moved no more, excepting to wipe the drops from his brow. solemn stillness had reigned for some time in the large, clean house, faintly smelling of lavender; but, on a sudden, doors opened and shut; steps were heard in the anteroom, seats were moved, and a loud confusion of men's voices became audible, among them that of andreas. melissa listened anxiously to the heated discussion which had already become a vehement quarrel. she longed to implore the excited wranglers to moderate their tones, for she could see by her lover's quivering lips that the noise hurt him; but she could not leave him. the dispute meanwhile grew louder and louder. the names of montanus and tertullian, clemens and origen, fell on her ear, and at last she heard andreas exclaim in high wrath: "you are like the guests at a richly furnished banquet who ask, after they have well eaten, when the meat will be brought in. paraclete is come, and yet you look for another." he was not allowed to proceed; fierce and scornful contradiction checked his speech, till a voice of thunder was heard above the rest: "the heavenly jerusalem is at hand. he who denies and doubts the calling of montanus is worse than the heathen, and i, for one, cast him off as neither a brother nor a christian!" this furious denunciation was drowned in uproar; the anxious girl heard seats overturned, and the yells and shouts of furious combatants; the suffering youth meanwhile moaned with anguish, and an expression of acute pain was stamped on his handsome features. melissa could bear it no longer; she had risen to go and entreat the men to make less noise, when suddenly all was still. diodoros immediately became calmer, and looked up at the girl as gratefully as though the soothing silence were owing to her. she could now hear the deep tones of the head of the church of alexandria, and understood that the matter in hand was the readmission into this congregation of a man who had been turned out by some other sect. some would have him rejected, and commended him to the mercy of god; others, less rigid, were willing to receive him, since he was ready to submit to any penance. then the quarrel began again. high above every other voice rose the shrill tones of a man who had just arrived from carthage, and who boasted of personal friendship with the venerable tertullian. the listening girl could no longer follow the connection of the discussion, but the same names again met her ear; and, though she understood nothing of the matter, it annoyed her, because the turmoil disturbed her lover's rest. it was not till the sick-nurse came back that the tumult was appeased; for, as soon as she learned how seriously the loud disputes of her fellow-believers were disturbing the sick man's rest, she interfered so effectually, that the house was as silent as before. the deaconess katharine was the name by which she was known, and in a few minutes she returned to her patient's bedside. andreas followed her, with the leech, a man of middle height, whose shrewd and well-formed head, bald but for a little hair at the sides, was set on a somewhat ungainly body. his sharp eyes looked hither and thither, and there was something jerky in his quick movements; still, their grave decisiveness made up for the lack of grace. he paid no heed to the bystanders, but threw himself forward rather than bent over the patient, felt him, and with a light hand renewed his bandages; and then he looked round the room, examining it as curiously as though he proposed to take up his abode there, ending by fixing his prominent, round eyes on melissa. there was something so ruthlessly inquisitive in that look that it might, under other circumstances, have angered her. however, as it was, she submitted to it, for she saw that it was shrewd, and she would have called the wisest physician on earth to her lover's bedside if she had had the power. when ptolemaeus--for so he was called--had, in reply to the question, "who is that?" learned who she was, he hastily murmured: "then she can do nothing but harm here. a man in a fever wants but one thing, and that is perfect quiet." and he beckoned andreas to the window, and asked him shortly, "has the girl any sense?" "plenty," replied the freedman, decisively. "as much, at any rate, as she can have at her age," the other retorted. "then it is to be hoped that she will go without any leave-taking or tears. that fine lad is in a bad way. i have known all along what might do him good, but i dare not attempt it alone, and there is no one in alexandria. . . . but galen has come to join caesar. if he, old as he is--but it is not for the likes of us to intrude into caesar's quarters--still--" he paused, laying his hand on his brow, and rubbing it thoughtfully with his short middle finger. then he suddenly exclaimed: "the old man would never come here. but the serapeum, where the sick lie awaiting divine or diabolical counsel in dreams--galen will go there. if only we could carry the boy thither." "his nurse here would hardly allow that," said andreas, doubtfully. "he is a heathen." replied the leech, hotly. "besides, what has faith to do with the injury to the body? how many caesars have employed egyptian and jewish physicians? the lad would get the treatment he needs, and, christian as i am, i would, if necessary, convey him to the serapeum, though it is of all heathen temples the most heathen. i will find out by hook or by crook at what time galen is to visit the cubicles. to-morrow, or next day at latest; and to-night, or, better still, to-morrow morning before sunrise, i will have the youth carried there. if the deaconess refuses--" "and she will," andreas put in. "very well.--come here, maiden," he beckoned to melissa, and went on loud enough for the deaconess to hear: "if we can get your betrothed to the serapeum early to-morrow, he may probably be cured; otherwise i refuse to be responsible. tell your friends and his that i will be here before sunrise to-morrow, and that they must provide a covered litter and good bearers." he then turned to the deaconess, who had followed him in silence, with her hands clasped like a deserter, laid his broad, square hand on her shoulder, and added: "so it must be, widow katharine, love endures and suffers all things, and to save a neighbor's life, it is well to suffer in silence even things that displease us. i will explain it all to you afterwards. quiet, only perfect quiet--no melancholy leave-taking, child! the sooner you are out of the house the better." he went back again to the bed, laid his hand for a moment on the sick man's forehead, and then left the room. diodoros lay still and indifferent on the couch. melissa kissed him on the brow, and withdrew without his observing it, her eyes full of tears. etext editor's bookmarks: for what will not custom excuse and sanctify? this ebook was produced by david widger <widger@cecomet.net> [note: there is a short list of bookmarks, or pointers, at the end of the file for those who may wish to sample the author's ideas before making an entire meal of them. d.w.] the bride of the nile by georg ebers volume 4. chapter xiii. paula's report of the day's proceedings, of orion's behavior, and of the results of the trial angered the leech beyond measure; he vehemently approved the girl's determination to quit this cave of robbers, this house of wickedness, of treachery, of imbecile judges and false witnesses, as soon as possible. but she had no opportunity for a quiet conversation with him, for philippus soon had his hands full in the care of the sufferers. rustem, the masdakite, who till now had been lying unconscious, had been roused from his lethargy by some change of treatment, and loudly called for his master haschim. when the arab did not appear, and it was explained to him that he could not hope to see him before the morning, the young giant sat up among his pillows, propping himself on his arms set firmly against the couch behind him, looked about him with a wandering gaze, and shook his big head like an aggrieved lion--but that his thick mane of hair had been cut off--abusing the physician all the time in his native tongue, and in a deep, rolling, bass voice that rang through the rooms though no one understood a word. philippus, quite undaunted, was trying to adjust the bandage over his wound, when rustem suddenly flung his arms round his body and tried with all his might, and with foaming lips, to drag him down. he clung to his antagonist, roaring like a wild beast; even now philippus never for an instant lost his presence of mind but desired the nun to fetch two strong slaves. the sister hurried away, and paula remained the eyewitness of a fearful struggle. the physician had twisted his ancles round those of the stalwart persian, and putting forth a degree of strength which could hardly have been looked for in a stooping student, tall and large-boned as he was, he wrenched the persian's hands from his hips, pressed his fingers between those of rustem, forced him back on to his pillows, set his knees against the brazen frame of the couch, and so effectually held him down that he could not sit up again. rustem exerted every muscle to shake off his opponent; but the leech was the stronger, for the masdakite was weakened by fever and loss of blood. paula watched this contest between intelligent force and the animal strength of a raving giant with a beating heart, trembling in every limb. she could not help her friend, but she followed his every movement as she stood at the head of the bed; and as he held down the powerful creature before whom her frail uncle had cowered in abject terror, she could not help admiring his manly beauty; for his eyes sparkled with unwonted fire, and the mean chin seemed to lengthen with the frightful effort he was putting forth, and so to be brought into proportion with his wide forehead and the rest of his features. her spirit quaked for him; she fancied she could see something great and heroic in the man, in whom she had hitherto discovered no merit but his superior intellect. the struggle had lasted some minutes before philip felt the man's arms grow limp, and he called to paula to bring him a sheet--a rope--what not --to bind the raving man. she flew into the next room, quite collected; fetched her handkerchief, snatched off the silken girdle that bound her waist, rushed back and helped the leech to tie the maniac's hands. she understood her friend's least word, or a movement of his finger; and when the slaves whom the nun had fetched came into the room, they found rustem with his hands firmly bound, and had only to prevent him from leaping out of bed or throwing himself over the edge. philippus, quite out of breath, explained to the slaves how they were to act, and when he opened his medicine-chest paula noticed that his swollen, purple fingers were trembling. she took out the phial to which he pointed, mixed the draught according to his orders, and was not afraid to pour it between the teeth of the raving man, forcing them open with the help of the slaves. the soothing medicine calmed him in a few minutes, and the leech himself could presently wash the wound and apply a fresh dressing with the practised aid of the sister. meanwhile the crazy girl had been waked by the ravings of the persian, and was anxiously enquiring if the dog--the dreadful dog--was there. but she soon allowed herself to be quieted by paula, and she answered the questions put to her so rationally and gently, that her nurse called the physician who could confirm paula in her hope that a favorable change had taker place in her mental condition. her words were melancholy and mild; and when paula remarked on this philippus observed: "it is on the bed of sickness that we learn to know our fellowcreatures. the frantic girl, who perhaps fell on the son of this house with murderous intent, now reveals her true, sweet nature. and as for that poor fellow, he is a powerful creature, an honest one too; i would stake my ten fingers on it!" "what makes you so sure of that?" "even in his delirium he did hot once scratch or bite, but only defended himself like a man.--thank you, now, for your assistance. if you had not flung the cord round his hands, the game might have ended very differently." "surely not!" exclaimed paula decidedly. "how strong you are, philip. i feel quite alarmed!" "you?" said the leech laughing. "on the contrary, you need never be alarmed again now that you have seen by chance that your champion is no weakling.--pfooh! i shall be glad now of a little rest." she offered him her handkerchief, and while he thankfully used it to wipe his brow-controlling with much difficulty the impulse to press it to his lips, he added lightly: "with such an assistant everything must go well. there is no merit in being strong; every one can be strong who comes into the world with healthy blood and well-knit bones, who keeps all his limbs well exercised, as i did in my youth, and who does not destroy his inheritance by dissipated living.--however, i still feel the struggle in my hands; but there is some good wine in the next room yet, and two or three cups of it will do me good." they went together into the adjoining room where, by this time, most of the lamps were extinguished. paula poured out the wine, touched the goblet with her lips, and he emptied it at a draught; but he was not to be allowed to drink off a second, for he had scarcely raised it, when they heard voices in the masdakite's room, and neforis came in. the governor's careful wife had not quitted her husband's couch--even rustem's storming had not induced her to leave her post; but when she was informed by the slaves what had been going on, and that paula was still up-stairs with the leech, she had come to the strangers' rooms as soon as her husband could spare her to speak to philippus, to represent to paula what the proprieties required, and to find out what the strange noises could be which still seemed to fill the house--at this hour usually as silent as the grave. they proceeded from the sick-rooms, but also from orion, who had just come in, and from nilus the treasurer, who had been called by the former into his room, though the night was fast drawing on to morning. to the governor's wife everything seemed ominous at the close of this terrible day, marked in the calendar as unlucky; so she made her way up-stairs, escorted by her husband's night watcher, and holding in her hand a small reliquary to which she ascribed the power of banning vile spirits. she came into the sick-room swiftly and noiselessly, put the nun through a strict cross-examination with the fretful sharpness of a person disturbed in her night's rest. then she went into the sitting-room where philippus was on the point of pledging paula in his second cup of wine, while she stood before him with dishevelled hair and robe ungirt. all this was an offence against good manners such as she would not suffer in her house, and she stoutly ordered her husband's niece to go to bed. after all the offences that had been pardoned her this day--no, yesterday--she exclaimed, it would have been more becoming in the girl to examine herself in silence, in her own room, to exorcise the lying spirits which had her in their power, and implore her saviour for forgiveness, than to pretend to be nursing the sick while she was carrying on, with a young man, an orgy which, as the sister had just told her, had lasted since mid-day. paula spoke not a word, though the color changed in her face more than once as she listened to this speech. but when neforis finally pointed to the door, she said, with all the cold pride she had at her command when she was the object of unworthy suspicions: "your aim is easily seen through. i should scorn to reply, but that you are the wife of the man who, till you set him against me, was glad to call himself my friend and protector, and who is also related to me. as usual, you attribute to me an unworthy motive. in showing me the door of this room consecrated by suffering, you are turning me out of your house, which you and your son--for i must say it for once--have made a hell to me." "i! and my--no! this is indeed--" exclaimed the matron in panting rage. she clasped her hands over her heaving bosom and her pale face was dyed crimson, while her eyes flashed wrathful lightnings. "that is too much; a thousand times too much--a thousand times--do you hear?--and i--i condescend to answer you! we picked her up in the street, and have treated her like a daughter, spent enormous sums on her, and now. . . ." this was addressed to the leech rather than to paula; but she took up the gauntlet and replied in a tone of unqualified scorn: "and now i plainly declare, as a woman of full age, free to dispose of myself, that to-morrow morning i leave this house with everything that belongs to me, even if i should go as a beggar;--this house, where i have been grossly insulted, where i and my faithful servant have been falsely condemned, and where he is even now about to be murdered." "and where you have been dealt with far too mildly," neforis shrieked at her audacious antagonist, "and preserved from sharing the fate of the robber you smuggled into the house. to save a criminal--it is unheard of:--you dared to accuse the son of your benefactor of being a corrupt judge." "and so he is," exclaimed paula furious. "and what is more, he has inveigled the child whom you destine to be his wife into bearing false witness. more--much more could i say, but that, even if i did not respect the mother, your husband has deserved that i should spare him." "spare him-spare!" cried neforis contemptuously. "you--you will spare us! the accused will be merciful and spare the judge! but you shall be made to speak;--aye, made to speak! and as to what you, a slanderer, can say about false witness. . ." "your own granddaughter," interrupted the leech, "will be compelled to repeat it before all the world, noble lady, if you do not moderate yourself." neforis laughed hysterically. "so that is the way the wind blows!" she exclaimed, quite beside herself. "the sick-room is a temple of bacchus and venus; and this disgraceful conduct is not enough, but you must conspire to heap shame and disgrace on this righteous house and its masters." then, resting her left hand which held the reliquary on her hip, she added with hasty vehemence: "so be it. go away; go wherever you please! if i find you under this roof to-morrow at noon, you thankless, wicked girl, i will have you turned out into the streets by the guard. i hate you--for once i will ease my poor, tormented heart--i loathe you; your very existence is an offence to me and brings misfortune on me and on all of us; and besides --besides, i should prefer to keep the emeralds we have left." this last and cruelest taunt, which she had brought out against her better feelings, seemed to have relieved her soul of a hundred-weight of care; she drew a deep breath, and turning to philippus, went on far more quietly and rationally: "as for you, philip, my husband needs you. you know well what we have offered you and you know george's liberal hand. perhaps you will think better of it, and will learn to perceive. . ." "i! . . ." said the leech with a lofty smile. "do you really know me so little? your husband, i am ready to admit, stands high in my esteem, and when he wants me he will no doubt send for me. but never again will i cross this threshold uninvited, or enter a house where right is trodden underfoot, where defenceless innocence is insulted and abandoned to despair. "you may stare in astonishment! your son has desecrated his father's judgment-seat, and the blood of guiltless hiram is on his head.--you-well, you may still cling to your emeralds. paula will not touch them; she is too high-souled to tell you who it is that you would indeed do well to lock up in the deepest dungeon-cell! what i have heard from your lips breaks every tie that time had knit between us. i do not demand that my friends should be wealthy, that they should have any attractions or charm, any special gifts of mind or body; but we must meet on common ground: that of honorable feeling. that you did not bring into the world, or you have lost it; and from this hour i am a stranger to you and never wish to see you again, excepting by the side of your husband when he requires me." he spoke the last words with such immeasurable dignity that neforis was startled and bereft of all self-control. she had been treated as a wretch worthy of utter scorn by a man beneath her in rank, but whom she always regarded as one of the most honest, frank and pure-minded she had ever known; a man indispensable to her husband, because he knew how to mitigate his sufferings, and could restrain him from the abuse of his narcotic anodyne. he was the only physician of repute, far and wide. she was to be deprived of the services of this valuable ally, to whom little mary and many of the household owed their lives, by this syrian girl; and she herself, sure that she was a good and capable wife and mother, was to stand there like a thing despised and avoided by every honest man, through this evil genius of her house! it was too much. tortured by rage, vexation, and sincere distress, she said in a complaining voice, while the tears started to her eyes: "but what is the meaning of all this? you, who know me, who have seen me ruling and caring for my family, you turn your back upon me in my own house and point the finger at me? have i not always been a faithful wife, nursing my husband for years and never leaving his sick-bed, never thinking of anything but how to ease his pain? i have lived like a recluse from sheer sense of duty and faithful lose, while other wives, who have less means than i, live in state and go to entertainments.--and whose slaves are better kept and more often freed than ours? where is the beggar so sure of an alms as in our house, where i, and i alone, uphold piety?--and now am i so fallen that the sun may not shine on me, and that a worthy man like you should withdraw his friendship all in a moment, and for the sake of this ungrateful, loveless creature--because, because, what did you call it--because the mind is wanting in me--or what did you call it that i must have before you....?" "it is called feeling," interrupted the leech, who was sorry for the unhappy woman, in whom he knew there was much that was good. "is the word quite new to you, my lady neforis?--it is born with us; but a firm will can elevate the least noble feeling, and the best that nature can bestow will deteriorate through self-indulgence. but, in the day of judgment, if i am not very much mistaken, it is not our acts but our feeling that will be weighed. it would ill-become me to blame you, but i may be allowed to pity you, for i see the disease in your soul which, like gangrene in the body. . ." "what next!" cried neforis. "this disease," the physician calmly went on--"i mean hatred, should be far indeed from so pious a christian. it has stolen into your heart like a thief in the night, has eaten you up, has made bad blood, and led you to treat this heavily-afflicted orphan as though you were to put stocks and stones in the path of a blind man to make him fall. if, as it would seem, my opinion still weighs with you a little, before paula leaves your house you will ask her pardon for the hatred with which you have persecuted her for years, which has now led you to add an intolerable insult--in which you yourself do not believe--to all the rest." at this paula, who had been watching the physician all through his speech, turned to dame neforis, and unclasped her hands which were lying in her lap, ready to shake hands with her uncle's wife if she only offered hers, though she was still fully resolved to leave the house. a terrible storm was raging in the lady's soul. she felt that she had often been unkind to paula. that a painful doubt still obscured the question as to who had stolen the emerald she had unwillingly confessed before she had come up here. she knew that she would be doing her husband a great service by inducing the girl to remain, and she would only too gladly have kept the leech in the house;--but then how deeply had she, and her son, been humiliated by this haughty creature! should she humble herself to her, a woman so much younger, offer her hand, make.... at this moment they heard the tinkle of the silver bowl, into which her husband threw a little ball when he wanted her. his pale, suffering face rose before her inward eye, she could hear him asking for his opponent at draughts, she could see his sad, reproachful gaze when she told him to-morrow that she, neforis, had driven his niece, the daughter of the noble thomas, out of the house--, with a swift impulse she went towards paula, grasping the reliquary in her left hand and holding out her right, and said in a low voice. "shake hands, girl. i often ought to have behaved differently to you; but why have you never in the smallest thing sought my love? god is my witness that at first i was fully disposed to regard you as a daughter, but you--well, let it pass. i am sorry now that i should--if i have distressed you." at the first words paula had placed her hand in that of neforis. hers was as cold as marble, the elder woman's was hot and moist; it seemed as though their hands were typical of the repugnance of their hearts. they both felt it so, and their clasp was but a brief one. when paula withdrew hers, she preserved her composure better than the governor's wife, and said quite calmly, though her cheeks were burning: "then we will try to part without any ill-will, and i thank you for having made that possible. to-morrow morning i hope i may be permitted to take leave of my uncle in peace, for i love him; and of little mary." "but you need not go now! on the contrary, i urgently request you to stay," neforis eagerly put in. "george will not let you leave. you yourself know how fond he is of you." "he has often been as a father to me," said paula, and even her eyes shone through tears. "i would gladly have stayed with him till the end. still, it is fixed--i must go." "and if your uncle adds his entreaties to mine?" "it will be in vain." neforis took the maiden's hand in her own again, and tried with genuine anxiety to persuade her,--but paula was firm. she adhered to her determination to leave the governor's house in the morning. "but where will you find a suitable house?" cried neforis. "a residence that will be fit for you?" "that shall be my business," replied the physician. "believe me, noble lady, it would be best for all that paula should seek another home. but it is to be hoped that she may decide on remaining in memphis." at this neforis exclaimed: "here, with us, is her natural home!--perhaps god may turn your heart for your uncle's sake, and we may begin a new and happier life." paula's only reply was a shake of the head; but neforis did not see it the metal tinkle sounded for the third time, and it was her duty to respond to its call. as soon as she had left the room paula drew a deep breath, exclaiming: "o god! o god! how hard it was to refrain from flinging in her teeth the crime her wicked son.... no, no; nothing should have made me do that. but i cannot tell you how the mere sight of that woman angers me, how light-hearted i feel since i have broken down the bridge that connected me with this house and with memphis." "with memphis?" asked philippus. "yes," said paula gladly. "i go away--away from hence, out of the vicinity of this woman and her son!--whither? oh! back to syria, or to greece--every road is the right one, if it only takes me away from this place." "and i, your friend?" asked philippus. "i shall bear the remembrance of you in a grateful heart." the physician smiled, as though something had happened just as he expected; after a moment's reflection he said: "and where can the nabathaean find you, if indeed he discovers your father in the hermit of sinai?" the question startled and surprised paula, and philippus now adduced every argument to convince her that it was necessary that she should remain in the city of the pyramids. in the first place she must liberate her nurse--in this he could promise to help her--and everything he said was so judicious in its bearing on the circumstances that had to be reckoned with, and the facts actual or possible, that she was astonished at the practical good sense of this man, with whom she had generally talked only of matters apart from this world. finally she yielded, chiefly for the sake of her father and perpetua; but partly in the hope of still enjoying his society. she would remain in memphis, at any rate for the present, under the roof of a friend of the physician's--long known to her by report--a melchite like herself, and there await the further development of her fate. to be away from orion and never, never to see him again was her heartfelt wish. all places were the same to her where she had no fear of meeting him. she hated him; still she knew that her heart would have no peace so long as such a meeting was possible. still, she longed to free herself from a desire to see what his further career would be, which came over her again and again with overwhelming and terrible power. for that reason, and for that only, she longed to go far, far away, and she was hardly satisfied by the leech's assurance that her new protector would be able to keep away all visitors whom she might not wish to receive. and he himself, he added, would make it his business to stand between her and all intruders the moment she sent for him. they did not part till the sun was rising above the eastern hills; as they separated paula said: "so this morning a new life begins for me, which i can well imagine will, by your help, be pleasanter than that which is past." and philippus replied with happy emotion: "the new life for me began yesterday." chapter xiv. between morning and noon mary was sitting on a low cane seat under the sycamores which yesterday had shaded katharina's brief young happiness; by her side was her governess eudoxia, under whose superintendence she was writing out the ten commandments from a greek catechism. the teacher had been lulled to sleep by the increasing heat and the pervading scent of flowers, and her pupil had ceased to write. her eyes, red with tears, were fixed on the shells with which the path was strewn, and she was using her long ruler, at first to stir them about, and then to write the words: "paula," and "paula, mary's darling," in large capital letters. now and again a butterfly, following the motion of the rod, brought a smile to her pretty little face from which the dark spirit "trouble" had not wholly succeeded in banishing gladness. still, her heart was heavy. everything around her, in the garden and in the house, was still; for her grandfather's state had become seriously worse at sunrise, and every sound must be hushed. mary was thinking of the poor sufferer: what pain he had to bear, and how the parting from paula would grieve him, when katharina came towards her down the path. the young girl did little credit to-day to her nickname of "the waterwagtail;" her little feet shuffled through the shelly gravel, her head hung wearily, and when one of the myriad insects, that were busy in the morning sunshine, came within her reach she beat it away angrily with her fan. as she came up to mary she greeted her with the usual "all hail!" but the child only nodded in response, and half turning her back went on with her inscription. katharina, however, paid no heed to this cool reception, but said in sympathetic tones: "your poor grandfather is not so well, i hear?" mary shrugged her shoulders. "they say he is very dangerously ill. i saw philippus himself." "indeed?" said mary without looking up, and she went on writing. "orion is with him," katharina went on. "and paula is really going away?" the child nodded dumbly, and her eyes again filled with tears. katharina now observed how sad the little girl was looking, and that she intentionally refused to answer her. at any other time she would not have troubled herself about this, but to-day this taciturnity provoked her, nay it really worried her; she stood straight in front of mary, who was still indefatigably busy with the ruler, and said loudly and with some irritation: "i have fallen into disgrace with you, it would seem, since yesterday. every one to his liking; but i will not put up with such bad manners, i can tell you!" the last words were spoken loud enough to wake eudoxia, who heard them, and drawing herself up with dignity she said severely: "is that the way to behave to a kind and welcome visitor, mary?" "i do not see one," retorted the child with a determined pout. "but i do," cried the governess. "you are behaving like a little barbarian, not like a little girl who has been taught greek manners. katharina is no longer a child, though she is still often kind enough to play with you. go to her at once and beg her pardon for being so rude." "i!" exclaimed mary, and her tone conveyed the most positive refusal to obey this behest. she sprang to her feet, and with flashing eyes, she cried: "we are not greeks, neither she nor i, and i can tell you once for all that she is not my kind and welcome visitor, nor my friend any more! we have nothing, nothing whatever to do with each other any more!" "are you gone mad?" cried eudoxia, and her long face assumed a threatening expression, while she rose from her easy-chair in spite of the increasing heat, intending to capture her pupil and compel her to apologize; but mary was more nimble than the middle-aged damsel and fled down the alley towards the river, as nimble as a gazelle. eudoxia began to run after her; but the heat was soon too much for her, and when she stopped, exhausted and panting, she perceived that katharina, worthy once more of her name of "water-wagtail," had flown past her and was chasing the little girl at a pace that she shuddered to contemplate. mary soon saw that no one but katharina was in pursuit; she moderated her pace, and awaited her cast-off friend under the shade of a tall shrub. in a moment katharina was facing her; with a heightened color she seized both her hands and exclaimed passionately: "what was it you said? you--you- if i did not know what a wrong-headed little simpleton you were, i could . . . ." "you could accuse me falsely!--but now, leave go of my hands or i will bite you. and as katharina, at this threat, released her she went on vehemently. "oh! i know you now--since yesterday! and i tell you, once for all, i say thank you for nothing for such friends. you ought to sink into the earth for shame of the sin you have committed. i am only ten years old, but rather than have done such a thing i would have let myself be shut up in that hot hole with poor, innocent perpetua, or i would have let myself be killed, as you want poor, honest hiram to be! oh, shame!" katharina's crimson cheeks bad turned pale at this address and, as she had no answer ready, she could only toss her head and say, with as much pride and dignity as she could assume: "what can a child like you know about things that puzzle the heads of grown-up people?" "grown-up people!" laughed mary, who was not three inches shorter than her antagonist. "you must be a great deal taller before i call you grown up! in two years time, you will scarcely be up to my eyes." at this the irascible egyptian fired up; she gave the child a slap in the face with the palm of her hand. mary only stood still as if petrified, and after gazing at the ground for a minute or two without a cry, she turned her back on her companion and silently went back into the shaded walk. katharina watched her with tears in her eyes. she felt that mary was justified in disapproving of what she had done the day before; for she herself had been unable to sleep and had become more and more convinced that she had acted wrongly, nay, unpardonably. and now again she had done an inexcusable thing. she felt that she had deeply hurt the child's feelings, and this sincerely grieved her. she followed mary in silence, at some little distance, like a maid-servant. she longed to hold her back by her dress, to say something kind to her, nay, to ask her pardon. as they drew near to the spot where the governess had dropped into her chair again, a hapless victim to the heat of egypt, katharina called mary by her name, and when the child paid no heed, laid her hand on her shoulder, saying in gentle entreaty: "forgive me for having so far forgotten myself. but how can i help being so little? you know very well when any one laughs at me for it......" "you get angry and slap!" retorted the child, walking on. "yesterday, perhaps, i might have laughed over a box on the ear--it is not the first --or have given it to you back again; but to-day!--just now," and she shuddered involuntarily, "just now i felt as if some black slave had laid his dirty hand on my cheek. you are not what you were. you walk quite differently, and you look--depend upon it you do not look as nice and as bright as you used, and i know why: you did a very bad thing last evening." "but dear pet," said the other, "you must not be so hard. perhaps i did not really tell the judges everything i knew, but orion, who loves me so, and whose wife i am to be. . . ." "he led you into sin!--yes; and he was always merry and kind till yesterday; but since--oh, that unlucky day!" here she was interrupted by eudoxia, who poured out a flood of reproaches and finally desired her to resume her task. the child obeyed unresistingly; but she had scarcely settled to her wax tablets again when katharina was by her side, whispering to her that orion would certainly not have asserted anything that he did not believe to be true, and that she had really been in doubt as to whether a gem with a gold back, or a mere gold frame-work, had been hanging to paula's chain. at this mary turned sharply and quickly upon her, looked her straight in the eyes and exclaimed--but in egyptian that the governess might not understand, for she had disdained to learn a single word of it: "a rubbishy gold frame with a broken edge was hanging to the chain, and, what is more, it caught in your dress. why, i can see it now! and, when you bore witness that it was a gem, you told a lie--look here; here are the laws which god almighty himself gave on the sacred mount of sinai, and there it stands written: 'thou shalt not bear false witness against thy neighbor.' and those who do, the priest told me, are guilty of mortal sin, for which there is no forgiveness on earth or in heaven, unless after bitter repentance and our saviour's special mercy. so it is written; and you could actually declare before the judges a thing that was false, and that you knew would bring others to ruin?" the young criminal looked down in shame and confusion, and answered hesitatingly: "orion asserted it so positively and clearly, and then--i do not know what came over me--but i was so angry, so--i could have murdered her!" "whom?" asked mary in surprise. "you know very well: paula." "paula!" said mary, and her large eyes again filled with tears. "is it possible? did you not love her as much as i do? have not you often and often clung about her like a bur?" "yes, yes, very true. but before the judges she was so intolerably proud, and then.--but believe me, mary you really and truly cannot understand anything of all this." "can i not?" asked the child folding her arms. "why do you think me so stupid?" "you are in love with orion--and he is a man whom few can match, over head and ears in love; and because paula looks like a queen by the side of you, and is so much handsomer and taller than you are, and orion, till yesterday--i could see it all--cared a thousand times more for her than for you, you were jealous and envious of her. oh, i know all about it. --and i know that all the women fall in love with him, and that mandaile had her ears cut off on his account, and that it was a lady who loved him in constantinople that gave him the little white dog. the slave-girls tell me what they hear and what i like.--and after all, you may well be jealous of paula, for if she only made a point of it, how soon orion would make up his mind never to look at you again! she is the handsomest and the wisest and the best girl in the whole world, and why should she not be proud? the false witness you bore will cost poor hiram his life: but the merciful saviour may forgive you at last. it is your affair, and no concern of mine; but when paula is forced to leave the house and all through you, so that i shall never, never, never see her any more--i cannot forget it, and i do not think i ever shall; but i will pray god to make me." she burst into loud sobs, and the governess had started up to put an end to a dialogue which she could not understand, and which was therefore vexatious and provoking, when the water-wagtail fell on her knees before the little girl, threw her arms round her, and bursting into tears, exclaimed: "mary--darling little mary forgive me. [the german has the diminutive 'mariechen'. to this dr. ebers appends this note. "an ignorant critic took exception to the use of the diminutive form of names (as for instance 'irenchen', little irene) in 'the sisters,' as an anachronism. it is nevertheless a fact that the greeks settled in egypt were so fond of using the diminutive form of woman's names that they preferred them, even in the tax-rolls. this form was common in attic greek,"] oh, if you could but know what i endured before i came out here! forgive me, mary; be my sweet, dear little mary once more. indeed and indeed you are much better than i am. merciful saviour, what possessed me last evening? and all through him, through the man no one can help loving-through orion!--and would you believe it: i do not even know why he led me into this sin. but i must try to care for him no more, to forget him entirely, although, although,--only think, he called me his betrothed; but now that he has betrayed me into sin, can i dare to become his wife? it has given me no peace all night. i love him, yes i love him, you cannot think how dearly; still, i cannot be his! sooner will i go into a convent, or drown myself in the nile!--and i will say all this to my mother, this very day." the greek governess had looked on in astonishment, for it was indeed strange to see the young girl kneeling in front of the child. she listened to her eager flow of unintelligible words, wondering whether she could ever teach her pupil--with her grandmother's help if need should be--to cultivate a more sedate and greek demeanor. at this juncture paula came down the path. some slaves followed her, carrying several boxes and bundles and a large litter, all making their way to the nile, where a boat was waiting to ferry her up the river to her new home. as she lingered unobserved, her eye rested on the touching picture of the two young things clasped in each other's arms, and she overheard the last words of the gentle little creature who had done her such cruel wrong. she could only guess at what had occurred, but she did not like to be a listener, so she called mary; and when the child started up and flew to throw her arms round her neck with vehement and devoted tenderness, she covered her little face and hair with kisses. then she freed herself from the little girl's embrace, and said, with tearful eyes: "good-bye, my darling! in a few minutes i shall no longer belong here; another and a strange home must be mine. love me always, and do not forget me, and be quite sure of one thing: you have no truer friend on earth than i am." at this, fresh tears flowed; the child implored her not to go away, not to leave her; but paula could but refuse, though she was touched and astonished to find that she had reaped so rich a harvest of love, here where she had sown so little. then she gave her hand at parting to the governess, and when she turned to katharina, to bid farewell, hard as it was, to the murderer of her happiness, the young girl fell at her feet bathed in tears of repentance, covered her knees and hands with kisses, and confessed herself guilty of a terrible sin. paula, however, would not allow her to finish; she lifted her up, kissed her forehead, and said that she quite understood how she had been led into it, and that she, like mary, would try to forgive her. standing by the governor's many-oared barge, to which the young girls now escorted her, she found orion. twice already this morning he had tried in vain to get speech with her, and he looked pale and agitated. he had a splendid bunch of flowers in his hand; he bestowed a hasty greeting on mary and his betrothed, and did not heed the fact that katharina returned it hesitatingly and without a word. he went close up to paula, told her in a low voice that hiram was safe, and implored her, as she hoped to be forgiven for her own sins, to grant him a few minutes. when she rejected his prayer with a silent shrug, and went on towards the boat he put out his hand to help her, but she intentionally overlooked it and gave her hand to the physician. at this he sprang after her into the barge, saying in her ear in a tremulous whisper: "a wretch, a miserable man entreats your mercy. i was mad yesterday. i love you, i love you--how deeply!--you will see!" "enough," she broke in firmly, and she stood up in the swaying boat. philippus supported her, and orion, laying the flowers in her lap, cried so that all could hear: "your departure will sorely distress my father. he is so ill that we did not dare allow you to take leave of him. if you have anything to say to him. . ." "i will find another messenger," she replied sternly. "and if he asks the reason for your sudden departure?" "your mother and philippus can give him an answer." "but he was your guardian, and your fortune, i know. . ." "in his hands it is safe." "and if the physician's fears should be justified?" "then i will demand its restitution through a new kyrios." "you will receive it without that! have you no pity, no forgiveness?" for all answer she flung the flowers he had given her into the river; he leaped on shore, and regardless of the bystanders, pushed his fingers through his hair, clasping his hands to his burning brow. the barge was pushed off, the rowers plied their oars like men; orion gazed after it, panting with laboring breath, till a little hand grasped his, and mary's sweet, childish voice exclaimed: "be comforted, uncle. i know just what is troubling you." "what do you know?" he asked roughly. "that you are sorry that you and katharina should have spoken against her last evening, and against poor hiram." "nonsense!" he angrily broke in. "where is katharina?" "i was to tell you that she could not see you today. she loves you dearly, but she, too, is so very, very sorry." "she may spare herself!" said the young man. "if there is anything to be sorry for it falls on me--it is crushing me to death. but what is this!--the devil's in it! what business is it of the child's? now, be off with you this minute. eudoxia, take this little girl to her tasks." he took mary's head between his hands, kissed her forehead with impetuous affection, and then pushed her towards her governess, who dutifully led her away. when orion found himself alone, he leaned against a tree and groaned like a wounded wild beast. his heart was full to bursting. "gone, gone! thrown away, lost! the best on earth!" he laid his hands on the tree-stem and pressed his head against it till it hurt him. he did not know how to contain himself for misery and self-reproach. he felt like a man who has been drunk and has reduced his own house to ashes in his intoxication. how all this could have come to pass he now no longer knew. after his nocturnal ride he had caused nilus the treasurer to be waked, and had charged him to liberate hiram secretly. but it was the sight of his stricken father that first brought him completely to his sober senses. by his bed-side, death in its terrible reality had stared him in the face, and he had felt that he could not bear to see that beloved parent die till he had made his peace with paula, won her forgiveness, brought her whom his father loved so well into his presence, and besought his blessing on her and on himself. twice he had hastened from the chamber of suffering to her room, to entreat her to hear him, but in vain; and now, how terrible had their parting been! she was hard, implacable, cruel; and as he recalled her person and individuality as they had struck him before their quarrel, he was forced to confess that there was something in her present behavior which was not natural to her. this inhuman severity in the beautiful woman whose affection had once been his, and who, but now, had flung his flowers into the water, had not come from her heart; it was deliberately planned to make him feel her anger. what had withheld her, under such great provocation, from betraying that she had detected him in the theft of the emerald? all was not yet lost; and he breathed more freely as he went back to the house where duty, and his anxiety for his father, required his presence. there were his flowers, floating on the stream. "hatred cast them there," thought he, "but before they reach the sea many blossoms will have opened which were mere hard buds when she flung them away. she can never love any man but me, i feel it, i know it. the first time we looked into each other's eyes the fate of our hearts was sealed. what she hates in me is my mad crime; what first set her against me was her righteous anger at my suit for katharina. but that sin was but a dream in my life, which can never recur; and as for katharina--i have sinned against her once, but i will not continue to sin through a whole, long lifetime. i have been permitted to trifle with love unpunished so often, that at last i have learnt to under-estimate its power. i could laugh as i sacrificed mine to my mother's wishes; but that, and that alone, has given rise to all these horrors. but no, all is not yet lost! paula will listen to me; and when she sees what my inmost feelings are--when i have confessed all to her, good and evil alike--when she knows that my heart did but wander, and has returned to her who has taught me that love is no jest, but solemn earnest, swaying all mankind, she will come round--everything will come right." a noble and rapturous light came into his face, and as he walked on, his hopes rose: "when she is mine i know that everything good in me that i have inherited from my forefathers will blossom forth. when my mother called me to my father's bed-side, she said: 'come, orion, life is earnest for you and me and all our house, your father. . .' yes, it is earnest indeed, however all this may end! to win paula, to conciliate her, to bring her near to me, to have her by my side and do something great, something worthy of her--this is such a purpose in life as i need! with her, only with her i know i could achieve it; without her, or with that gilded toy katharina, old age will bring me nothing but satiety, sobering and regrets--or, to call it by its christian designation: bitter repentance. as antaeus renewed his strength by contact with mother earth, so, father do i feel myself grow taller when i only think of her. she is salvation and honor; the other is ruin and misery in the future. my poor, dear father, you will, you must survive this stroke to see the fulfilment of all your joyful hopes of your son. you always loved paula; perhaps you may be the one to appease her and bring her back to me; and how dear will she be to you, and, god willing, to my mother, too, when you see her reigning by my side an ornament to this house, to this city, to this country--reigning like a queen, your son's redeeming and guardian angel!" uplifted, carried away by these thoughts, he had reached the viridarium. he there found sebek the steward waiting for his young master: "my lord is asleep now," he whispered, "as the physician foretold, but his face... oh, if only we had philippus here again!" "have you sent the chariot with the fast horses to the convent of st. cecilia?" asked orion eagerly; and when sebek had replied in the affirmative and vanished again indoors, the young man, overwhelmed with painful forebodings, sank on his knees near a column to which a crucifix was hung, and lifted up his hands and soul in fervent prayer. chapter xv. the physician had installed paula in her new home, and had introduced her to the family who were henceforth to be her protectors, and to enable her to lead a happier life. he had but a few minutes to devote to her and her hosts; for scarcely had he taken her into the spacious rooms, gay with flowers, of which she now took possession, when he was enquired for by two messengers, both anxious to speak with him. paula knew how critical her uncle's state was, and now, contemplating the probability of losing him, she first understood what he had been to her. thus sorrow was her first companion in her new abode--a sorrow to which the comfort of her pretty, airy rooms added keenness. one of the messengers was a young arab from the other side of the river, who handed to philippus a letter from the merchant haschim. the old man informed him that, in consequence of a bad fall his eldest son had had, he was forced to start at once for djiddah on the red sea. he begged the physician to take every care of his caravan-leader, to whom he was much attached, to remove him when he thought fit from the governor's house, and to nurse him till he was well, in some quiet retreat. he would bear in mind the commission given him by the daughter of the illustrious thomas. he sent with this letter a purse well-filled with gold pieces. the other messenger was to take the leech back again in the light chariot with the fast horses to the suffering mukaukas. he at once obeyed the summons, and the steeds, which the driver did not spare, soon carried him back to the governor's house. a glance at his patient told him that this was the beginning of the end; still, faithful to his principle of never abandoning hope till the heart of the sufferer had ceased to beat, he raised the senseless man, heedless of orion, who was on his knees by his father's pillow, signed to the deaconess in attendance, an experienced nurse, and laid cool, wet cloths on the head and neck of the sufferer, who was stricken with apoplexy. then he bled him. presently the mukaukas wearily opened his eyes, turned uneasily from side to side, and recognizing his kneeling son and his wife, bathed in tears, he murmured, almost inarticulately, for his paralyzed tongue no longer did his will: "two pillules, philip!" the physician unhesitatingly acceded to the request of the dying man, who again closed his eyes; but only to reopen them, and to say, with the same difficulty, but with perfect consciousness: "the end is at hand! the blessing of the church--orion, the bishop." the young man hastened out of the room to fetch the prelate, who was waiting in the viridarium with two deacons, an exorcist, and a sacristan bearing the sacred vessels. the governor listened in devout composure to the service of the last sacrament, looked on at the ceremonies performed by the exorcist as, with waving of hands and pious ejaculations he banned the evil spirits and cast out from the dying man the devil that might have part in him; but he could no longer swallow the bread which, in the jacobite rite, was administered soaked in the wine. orion took the holy elements for him, and the dying man, with a smile, murmured to his son: "god be with thee, my son! the lord, it seems, denies me his precious blood--and yet--let me try once more." this time he succeeded in swallowing the wine and a few crumbs of bread; and the bishop ptolimus, a gentle old man of a beautiful and dignified presence, spoke comfort to him, and asked him whether he felt that he was dying penitent and in perfect faith in the mercy of his lord and saviour, and whether he repented of his sins and forgave his enemies. the sick man bowed his head with an effort and murmured: "even the melchites who murdered my sons--and even the head of our church, the patriarch, who was only too glad to leave it to me to achieve things which he scrupled to do himself. that--that--but you, ptolimus-a wise and worthy servant of the lord--tell me to the best of your convictions: may i die in the belief that it was not a sin to conclude a peace with the arab conquerors of the greeks?--may i, even at this hour, think of the melchites as heretics?" the prelate drew his still upright figure to its full height, and his mild features assumed a determined--nay a stern expression as he exclaimed: "you know the, decision pronounced by the synod of ephesus--the words which should be graven on the heart of every true jacobite as on marble and brass 'may all who divide the nature of christ--and this is what the melchites do--be divided with the sword, be hewn in pieces and be burnt alive!'--no head of our church has ever hurled such a curse at the moslems who adore the one god!" the sufferer drew a deep breath, but he presently added with a sigh: "but benjamin the patriarch, and john of niku have tormented my soul with fears! still, you too, ptolimus, bear the crosier, and to you i will confess that your brethren in office, the shepherds of the jacobite fold, have ruined my peace for hundreds of days and nights, and i have been near to cursing them. but before the night fell the lord sent light into my soul, and i forgave them, and now, through you, i crave their pardon and their blessing. the church has but reluctantly opened the doors to me in these last years; but what servant can be allowed to complain of the master from whom he expects grace? so listen to me. i close my eyes as a faithful and devoted adherent of the church, and in token thereof i will endow her to the best of my power and adorn her with rich and costly gifts; i will--but i can say no more.--speak for me, orion. you know-the gems--the hanging. . . ." his son explained to the bishop what a splendid gift, in priceless jewels, the dying man intended to offer to the church. he desired to be buried in the church of st. john at alexandria by his father's side, and to be prayed for in front of the mortuary chapel of his ancestors in the necropolis; he had set aside a sum of money, in his will, to pay for the prayers to be offered for his soul. the priests were well pleased to hear this, and they absolved him unconditionally and completely; then, after blessing him fervently, they quitted the room. philippus heaved a sigh of relief when the ecclesiastics had departed, and constantly renewed the wet compress, while the dying governor lay for a long time in silence with his eyes shut. presently he rubbed them as though he felt revived, raised his head a little with the physician's help, and looking up, said: "draw the ring off my finger, orion, and wear it worthily.--where is little mary, where is paula? i should wish to bid them farewell too." the young man and his mother exchanged uneasy glances, but neforis collected herself at once and replied: "we have sent for mary; but paula--you know she never was happy with us--and since the events of yesterday. . . ." "well?" asked the invalid. "she hastily quitted the house; but we parted friends, i can assure you of that; she is still in memphis, and she spoke of you most affectionately and wished to see you, and charged me with many loving messages for you; so, if you really care to see her. . . ." the sick man tried to nod his head, but in vain. he did not, however, insist on her being sent for, but his face wore an expression of deep melancholy and the words came faintly from his lips. "thomas' daughter! the noblest and loveliest of all." "the noblest and loveliest," echoed orion, in a voice that was tremulous with strong, deep and sincere emotion; then he begged the leech and the deaconess to leave him alone with his parents. as soon as they had left the room the young man spoke softly but urgently into his father's ear: "you are quite right, father," he said. "she is better and more noble, more beautiful and more highminded than any girl living. i love her, and will stake everything to win her heart. oh, god! oh, god! merciful heaven!--are you glad, do you give your consent, father? you dearest and best of men; i see it in your face." "yes, yes, yes," murmured the governor; his yellow, bloodshot eyes looked up to heaven, and with a terrible effort he stammered out: "blessing--my blessing, on you and paula.--tell her from me.... if she had confided in her old uncle, as she used to do, the freedman would never have robbed us.--she is a brave soul; how she fought for the poor fellow. i will hear more about it if my strength holds out.--why is she not here?" "she wished so much to bid you farewell," replied neforis, "but you were asleep." "was she in such a hurry to be gone?" asked her husband with a bitter smile. "fear about the emerald may have had something to do with it? but how could i be angry with her? hiram acted without her knowledge, i suppose? yes, i knew it!--ah; that dear, sweet face! if i could but see it once more. the joy--of my eyes, and my companion at draughts! a faithful heart too; how she clung to her father! she was ready to sacrifice everything for him.--and you, you, my old.... but no--no reproaches at such a time. you, mother--you, my neforis, thanks, a thousand thanks for all your love and kindness. what a mystical and magic bond is that of a christian marriage like ours? mark that, orion. and you, mother: i am anxious about this. you--do not hurt the girl's feelings again. say--say you bless this union; it will make me happier at the last.--paula and orion; both of them-both.--i never dared before --but what better could we wish?" the matron clasped her hands and sobbed out: "anything, everything you wish! but father, orion, our faith!-and then, merciful saviour, that poor little katharina!" "katharina!" repeated the sick man, and his feeble lips parted in a compassionate smile. "our boy and the water--water--you know what i would say." then his eyes began to sparkle more brightly and he said in a low voice, but still eagerly, as though death were yet far from him: "my name is george, the son of the mukaukas; i am the great mukaukas and our family--all fine men of a proud race; all: my father, my uncle, our lost sons, and orion here--all palms and oaks! and shall a dwarf, a mere blade of rice be grafted on to the grand old stalwart stock? what would come of that?--oh, ho! a miserable little brood! but paula! the cedar of lebanon--paula; she would give new life to the grand old race." "but our faith, our faith," moaned neforis. "and you, orion, do you even know what her feeling is towards you?" "yes and no. let that rest for the present," said the youth, who was deeply moved. "oh father! if i only knew that your blessing. . ." "the faith, the faith," interrupted the mukaukas in a broken voice. "i will be true to my own!" cried orion, raising his father's hand to his lips. "but think, picture to yourself, how paula and i would reign in this house, and how another generation would grow up in it worthy of the great mukaukas and his ancestors!" "i see it, i see it," murmured the sick man sinking back on his pillows, unconscious. philippus was immediately called in, and, with him, little mary came weeping into the room. the physician's efforts to revive the sufferer were presently successful; again the sick man opened his eyes, and spoke more distinctly and loudly than before: "there is a perfume of musk. it is the fragrance that heralds the angel of death." after this he lay still and silent for a long time. his eyes were closed, but his brows were knit and showed that he was thinking with a painful effort. at length, with a sigh, he said, almost inaudibly: "so it was and so it is: the greek oppressed my people with arbitrary cruelty as if we were dogs; the moslem, too, is a stranger, but he is just. that which happened it was out of my power to prevent; and it is well, it is very well that it turned out so.--very well," he repeated several times, and then he shivered and said with a groan: "my feet are so cold! but never mind, never mind, i like to be cool." the leech and the deaconess at once set to work to heat blocks of wood to warm his feet; the sick man looked up gratefully and went on: "at church, in the house of god, i have often found it deliciously cool and to-day it is the church that eases my death-bed by her pardon. do you, my son, be faithful to her. no member of our house should ever be an apostate. as to the new faith--it is overspreading land after land with incredible power; ambition and covetousness are driving thousands into its fold. but we--we are faithful to christ jesus, we are no traitors. if i, i the mukaukas, had consented to go over to the khaliff i might have been a prince in purple, and have governed my own country in his name. how many have deserted to the moslems! and the temptation will come to you, too, and their faith offers much that is attractive to the crowd. they imagine a paradise full of unspeakably alluring joys--but we, my son-we shall meet again in our own, shall we not?" "yes, yes, father!" cried the young man. "i will remain a christian, staunch and true. . ." "that is right," interrupted the sick man. he was determined to forget that his son wished to marry a melchite and went on quickly: "paula... but no more of that. remain faithful to your own creed--otherwise... however, child, seek your own road; you are--but you will walk in the right way, and it is because i know that, know it surely, that i can die so calmly. "i have provided abundantly for your temporal welfare. i have been a good husband, a faithful father, have i not, o saviour?--have i not, neforis? and that which is my best and surest comfort is that for many long years i have administered justice in this land, and never, never once--and thou my refuge and comforter art my witness!--never once consciously or willingly have i been an unrighteous judge. before me the poor were equal with the rich, the powerful with the helpless widow. who would have dared..." here he broke off; his eyes, wandering feebly round the room, fell on mary who had sunk on her knees, opposite to orion on the other side of the bed. the dying man, who had thus summed up the outcome of a long and busy life, ceased his reflections, and when the child saw that he was vainly trying to turn his powerless head towards her, she threw her arms round him with passionate grief; unscared by his fixed gaze or the altered hue of his beloved face, she kissed his lips and cheeks, exclaiming: "grandfather, dear grandfather, do not leave us; stay with us, pray, pray stay with us!" something faintly resembling a smile parted his parched lips, and all the tenderness with which his soul was overflowing for this sweet young bud of humanity would have found expression in his voice but that he could only mutter huskily: "mary, my darling! for your sake i should be glad to live a long while yet, a very long while; but the other world--i am standing already on its threshold. good-bye--i must indeed say good-bye." "no, no--i will pray; oh! i will pray so fervently that you may get well again!" cried the child. but he replied: "nay, nay. the saviour is already taking me by the hand. farewell, and again farewell. did you bring paula? i do not see her. did you bring paula with you, sweetheart? she--did she leave us in anger? if she only knew; ah! your paula has treated us ill." the child's heart was still full of the horrible crime which had so revolted her truthful nature, and which had deprived her of rest all through an evening, a long night and a morning; she laid her little head close to that of the old man--her dearest and best friend. for years he had filled her father's place, and now he was dying, leaving her forever! but she could not let him depart with a false idea of the woman whom she worshipped with all the fervor of her child's heart; in a subdued voice, but with eager feeling, she said, close to his ear: "but grandfather, there is one thing you must know before the saviour takes you away to be happy in heaven. paula told the truth, and never, never told a lie, not even for hiram's sake. an empty gold frame hung to her necklace and no gem at all. whatever orion may say, i saw it myself and cannot be mistaken, as truly as i hope to see you and my poor father in heaven! and katharina, too, thought better of it, and confessed to me just now that she had committed a great sin and had borne false witness before the judges to please her dear orion. i do not know what hiram had done to offend him; but on the strength of katharina's evidence the judges condemned him to death. but paula--you must understand that paula had nothing, positively nothing whatever to do with the stealing of the emerald." orion, kneeling there, was condemned to hear every word the little girl so vehemently whispered, and each one pierced his heart like a daggerthrust. again and again he felt inclined to clutch at her across the bed and fling her on the ground before his father's eyes; but grief and astonishment seemed to have paralyzed his whole being; he had not even the power to interrupt her with a single word. she had spoken, and all was told. he clung to the couch like a shattered wretch; and when his father turned his eyes on him and gasped out: "then the court--our court of justice pronounced an unrighteous sentence?" he bowed his head in contrition. the dying man murmured even less articulately and incoherently than before: "the gem--the hanging--you, you perhaps--was it you? that emerald--i cannot. . ." orion helped his father in his vain efforts to utter the dreadful words. sooner would he have died with the old man than have deceived him in such a moment; he replied humbly and in a low voice: "yes, father--i took it. but as surely as i love you and my mother this, the first reckless act of my life, which has brought such horrors in its train. . . shall be the last," he would have said; but the words "i took it," had scarcely passed his lips when his father was shaken by a violent trembling, the expression of his eyes changed fearfully, and before the son had spoken his vow to the end the unhappy father was, by a tremendous effort, sitting upright. loud sobs of penitence broke from the young man's heaving breast, as the mukaukas wrathfully exclaimed, in thick accents, as quickly as the heavy, paralyzed tongue would allow: "you, you! a disgrace to our ancient and blameless court! you?--away with you! a thief, an unjust judge, a false witness,--and the only descendant of menas! if only these hands were able--you--you--go, villain!" and with this wild outcry, george, the gentle and just mukaukas, sank back on his pillows; his bloodshot eyes were staring, fixed on vacancy; his gasping lips repeated again and again, but less and less audibly the one word "villain;" his swollen fingers clutched at the light coverlet that lay over him; a strange, shrill wheezing came through his open mouth, and the heavy corpse of the great dignitary fell, like a falling palm-tree, into orion's arms. orion started up, his eyes inflamed, his hair all dishevelled, and shook the dead man as though to compel him back to life again, to hear his oath and accept his vow, to see his tears of repentance, to pardon him and take back the name of infamy which had been his parting word to his loved and spoilt child. in the midst of this wild outbreak the physician came back, glanced at the dead man's distorted features, laid a hand on his heart, and said with solemn regret as he led little mary away from the couch: "a good and just man is gone from the land of the living." orion cried aloud and pushed away mary, who had stolen close to him; for, young as she was, she felt that it was she who had brought the worst woe on her uncle, and that it was her part to show him some affection. she ran then to her grandmother; but she, too, put her aside and fell on her knees by the side of her wretched son to weep with him; to console him who was inconsolable, and in whom, a few minutes since, she had hoped to find her own best consolation; but her fond words of motherly comfort found no echo in his broken spirit. chapter xvi. when philippus had parted from paula he had told her that the mukaukas might indeed die at any moment, but that it was possible that he might yet struggle with death for weeks to come. this hope had comforted her; for she could not bear to think that the only true friend she had had in memphis, till she had become more intimate with the physician, should quit the world forever without having heard her justification. nothing could be more unlikely than that any one in neforis' household--excepting her little grandchild should ever remember her with kindness; and she scarcely desired it; but she rebelled against the idea of forfeiting the respect she had earned, even in the governor's house. if her friend should succeed in prolonging her uncle's life, by a confidential interview with him she might win back his old affection and his good opinion. her new home she felt was but a resting-place, a tabernacle in the desert-journey of her solitary pilgrimage, and she here meant to avail herself of the information she had gathered from her melchite dependents. hope had now risen supreme in her heart over grief and disappointment. orion's presence alone hung like a threatening hail-cloud over the sprouting harvest of her peace of mind. and yet, next to the necessity of waiting at memphis for the return of her messenger, nothing tied her to the place so strongly as her interest in watching the future course of his life, at any rate from a distance. what she felt for him-and she told herself it was deep aversion-nevertheless constituted a large share of her inner life, little as she would confess it to herself. her new hosts had received her as a welcome guest, and they certainly did not seem to be poor. the house was spacious, and though it was old and unpretentious it was comfortable and furnished with artistic taste. the garden had amazed her by the care lavished on it; she had seen a humpbacked gardener and several children at work in it. a strange party-for every one of them, like their chief, was in some way deformed or crippled. the plot of ground--which extended towards the river to the road-way for foot passengers, vehicles and the files of men towing the nile-boats--was but narrow, and bounded on either side by extensive premises. not far from the spot where it lay nearest to the river was the bridge of boats connecting memphis with the island of rodah. to the right was the magnificent residence--a palace indeed--belonging to susannah; to the left was an extensive grove, where tall palms, sycamores with spreading foliage, and dense thickets of blue-green tamarisk trees cast their shade. above this bower of splendid shrubs and ancient trees rose a long, yellow building crowned with a turret; and this too was not unknown to her, for she had often heard it spoken of in her uncle's house, and had even gone there now and then escorted by perpetua. it was the convent of st. cecilia, the refuge of the last nuns of the orthodox creed left in memphis; for, though all the other sisterhoods of her confession had long since been banished, these had been allowed to remain in their old home, not only because they were famous sick-nurses, a distinction common to all the melchite orders, but even more because the decaying municipality could not afford to sacrifice the large tax they annually paid to it. this tax was the interest on a considerable capital bequeathed to the convent by a certain wise predecessor of the mukaukas', with the prudent proviso, ratified under the imperial seal of theodosius ii., that if the convent were at any time broken up, this endowment, with the land and buildings which it likewise owed to the generosity of the same benefactor, should become the property of the christian emperor at that time reigning. mukaukas george, notwithstanding his well-founded aversion for everything melchite, had taken good care not to press this useful sisterhood too hardly, or to deprive his impoverished capital of its revenues only to throw them into the hands of the wealthy moslems. the title-deed on which the sisters relied was good; and the governor, who was a good lawyer as well as a just man, had not only left them unmolested, but in spite of his fears--during the last few years--for his own safety, had shown himself no respecter of persons by defending their rights firmly and resolutely against the powerful patriarch of the jacobite church. the senate of the ancient capital naturally, approved his course, and had not merely suffered the heretic sisterhood to remain, but had helped and encouraged it. the jacobite clergy of the city shut their eyes, and only opened them to watch the convent at easter-tide; for on the saturday before easter, the nuns, in obedience to an agreement made before the monophysite schism, were required to pay a tribute of embroidered vestments to the head of the christian churches, with wine of the best vintages of kochome near the pyramid of steps, and a considerable quantity of flowers and confectionary. so the ancient coenobium of women was maintained, and though all egypt was by this time jacobite or moslem, and many of the older sisters had departed this life within the last year, no one had thought of enquiring how it was that the number of the nuns remained still the same, till the jacobite archbishop benjamin filled the patriarchal throne of alexandria in the place of the melchite cyrus. to benjamin the heretical sisters at memphis--the hawks in a dove-cote, as he called them--were an offence, and he thought that the deed might bear a new interpretation: that as there was no longer a christian emperor, and as the word "christian" was used in the document, if the convent were broken up the property should pass into the hands of the only christian magnate then existing in the country: himself, namely, and his church. the ill-feeling which the patriarch fostered against the mukaukas had been aggravated to hostility by their antagonism on this matter. a musical dirge now fell on paula's ear from the convent chapel. was the worthy mother superior dead? no, this lament must be for some other death, for the strange skirling wail of the egyptian women came up to her corner window from the road, from the bridge, and from the boats on the river. no jacobite of memphis would have dared to express her grief so publicly for the death of a melchite; and as the chorus of voices swelled, the thought struck her with a chill that it must be her uncle and friend who had closed his weary eyes in death. it was with deep emotion and many tears that she perceived how sincerely the death of this righteous man was bewailed by all his fellow-citizens. yes, he only, and no other egyptian, could have called forth this great and expressive regret. the wailing women in the road were daubing the mud of the river on their foreheads and bosoms; men were standing in large groups and beating their heads and breasts with passionate gestures. on the bridge of boats the men would stop others, and from thence, too, piercing shrieks came across to her. at last philippus came in and confirmed her fears. the governor's death had shocked him no less than it did her, and he had to tell paula all he knew of the dead man's last hours. "still, one good thing has come out of this misery," he said. "there is nothing so comforting as the discovery that we have been deceived in thinking ill of a man and of his character. this orion, who has sinned so basely against himself and against you, is not utterly reprobate." "not?" interrupted paula. "then he has taken you in too!" "taken me in?" said the leech. "hardly, i think. i have, alas! stood by many a death-bed; for i am too often sent for when death is already beckoning the sick man away. i have met thousands of mourners in these melancholy scenes, which, i can assure you, are the very best school for training any one who desires to search the hearts of his fellowcreatures. by the bed of death, or in the mart, where everything is a question of mine and thine, it is easy to see how some--we for instance --are as careful to hide from the world all that is great and noble in us as others are to conceal what is petty and mean--we read men's hearts as an open page. from my observations of the dying and of those who sorrow for them, i, who am not menander not lucian, could draw a series of portraits which should be as truthful likenesses as though the men had turned themselves inside out before me." "that a dying man should show himself as he really is i can well believe," replied paula. "he need have no further care for the opinions of others; but the mourners? why, custom requires them to assume an air of grief and to shed tears." "very true; regret repeats itself by the side of the dead," replied the physician. "but the chamber of the dying is like a church. death consecrates it, and the man who stands face to face with death often drops the mask by which he cheats his fellows. there we may see faces which you would shudder to look on, but others, too, which merely to see is enough to make us regard the degenerate species to which we belong with renewed respect." "and you found such a comforting vision in orion,--the thief, the false witness, the corrupt judge!" exclaimed paula, starting up in indignant astonishment. "there! you see," laughed philippus. "just like a woman! a little juggling, and lo! what was only rose color is turned to purple. no. the son of the mukaukas has not yet undergone such a dazzling change of hue; but he has a feeling and impressible heart--and i hold even that in high esteem. i have no doubt that he loved his father deeply, nay passionately; though i have ample reason to believe him capable of the very worst. so long as i was present at the scene of death the father and son were parting in all friendship and tenderness, and when the good old man's heart had ceased to beat i found orion in a state which is only possible to have when love has lost what it held dearest." "all acting!" paula put in. "but there was no audience, dear friend. orion would not have got up such a performance for his mother and little mary." "but he is a poet--and a highly-gifted one too. he sings beautiful songs of his own invention to the lyre; his ecstatic and versatile mind works him up into any frame of feeling; but his soul is perverted; it is soaked in wickedness as a sponge drinks up water. he is a vessel full of beautiful gifts, but he has forfeited all that was good and noble in him --all!" the words came in eager haste from her indignant lips. her cheeks glowed with her vehemence, and she thought she had won over the physician; but he gravely shook his head, and said: "your righteous anger carries you too far. how often have you blamed me for severity and suspicions but now i have to beg you to allow me to ask your sympathy for an experience to which you would probably have raised no objection the day before yesterday: "i have met with evil-doers of every degree. think, for instance, how many cases of wilful poisoning i have had to investigate." "even homer called egypt the land of poison," exclaimed paula. "and it seems almost incredible that christianity has not altered it in the least. kosmas, who had seen the whole earth, could nowhere find more malice, deceit, hatred, and ill-will than exist here." "then you see in what good schools my experience of the wickedness of men has ripened," said philippus smiling, "and they have taught me chiefly that there is never a criminal, a sinner, or a scapegrace, however infamous he may be, however cruel or lost to virtue, in whom some good quality or other may not be discovered.--do you remember nechebt, the horrible woman who poisoned her two brothers and her own father? she was captured scarcely three weeks ago; and that very monster in human form could almost die of hunger and thirst for the sake of her rascally son, who is a common soldier in the imperial army; at last she took to concocting poisons, not to improve her own wretched condition, but to send the shameless wretch means for a fresh debauch. i have known a thousand similar cases, but i will only mention that of one of the wildest and blood-thirstiest of robbers, who had evaded the vigilance of the watch again and again, but at last fell into their hands--and how? because he had heard that his old mother was ill and he longed to see the withered old woman once more and give her a kiss, since he was her own child! in the same way orion, however reprobate we may think him, has at any rate one characteristic which we must approve of: a tender affection for his father and mother. your sponge is not utterly steeped in wickedness; there are still some pores, some cells which resist it; and if in him, as in so many others, the heart is one of them, then i say hopefully, like horace the roman: 'nil desperandum.' it would be unjust to give him up altogether for lost." to this assurance paula found no answer; indeed, it struck her that--if orion had told her the truth--it was only to please his mother that he had asked katharina to marry him, while she herself occupied his heart. --the physician, wishing to change the subject, was about to speak again of the death of the mukaukas, when one of the crippled serving girls came to announce a woman who asked to speak with paula. a few minutes later she was clasped in the embrace of her faithful old friend and nurse, who rejoiced as heartily, laughing and crying for sheer delight, as if no tidings of misfortune had reached her; while paula, though so much younger, was cut to the heart, and could not shake off the spell of her grief. perpetua understood this and owed her no grudge for the coolness with which she met her joyful excitement. she told paula that she had been well treated in her hot cell, and that about half an hour since orion himself, the young master now, had opened the door of her prison. he had been very gracious to her, but looked so pale and sad. the overbearing young man was quite altered; his eyes, which were dim with weeping, had moved her, perpetua, to tears. she trusted that god would forgive him for his sins against herself and paula; he must have been possessed by some evil demon; he had not been at all like himself; for he had a kind, warm heart, and though he had been so hard and unjust yesterday to poor hiram he had made it up to him the first thing this morning, and had not only let him out of prison but had sent him and his son home to damascus with large gifts and two horses. nilus had told her this. he who hoped to be forgiven by his neighbor must also be ready to forgive. the great augustine, even, had been no model of virtue in his youth and yet he had become a shining light in the church; and now the son of the mukaukas would tread in his father's footsteps. he was a handsome, engaging man, who would be the joy of their hearts yet, they might be very sure. why, he had been as grave and as solemn as a bishop to-day; perhaps he had already turned over a new leaf. he himself had put her into his mother's chariot and desired the charioteer to drive her hither: what would paula say to that? her things were to be given over to her to-morrow morning, and packed under her own eyes, and sent after her. nilus, the treasurer, had come with her to deliver a message to paula; but he had gone first to the convent. paula desired the old woman to go thither and fetch him; as soon as perpetua had left the room, she exclaimed: "there, you see, is some one who is quite of your opinion. what creatures we are! last evening my good betta would have thought no pit of hell too deep for our enemy, and now? to be led to a chariot by such a fine gentleman in person is no doubt flattering; and how quickly the old body has forgotten all her grievances, how soothed and satisfied she is by the gracious permission to pack her precious and cherished possessions with her own hands.--you told me once that the jacobites had made a saint orion out of the pagan god osiris, and my old betta sees a future saint augustine in the governor's son. i can see that she already regards him as her tutelary patron, and when we get back to syria, she will be begging me to join her in a pilgrimage to his shrine!" "and you will perhaps consent," replied the physician, to whom paula at this moment, for the first time since his heart had glowed with love for her, did not seem to be quite what a man looks for in the woman he adores. hitherto he had seen and heard nothing that was not high-minded and worthy of her; but her last words had, been spoken with vehement and indignant irony--and in philip's opinion irony, blame which was intended to wound and not to improve its object, was unbecoming in a noble woman. the scornful laugh, with which she had triumphantly ended her speech, had opened as it were a wide abyss between his mind and hers. he, as he freely confessed to himself, was of a coarser and humbler grain than paula, and he was apt to be satirical oftener than was right. she had been wont to dislike this habit in him; he had been glad that she did; it answered to the ideal he had formed of what the woman he loved should be. but now she had turned satirical; and her irony was no jest of the lips. it sprang, full of passion, from her agitated soul; this it was that grieved the leech who knew human nature, and at the same time roused his apprehensions. paula read his disapproval in his face, and felt that there was a deep significance in his words and you will perhaps consent." "men are vexed," thought she, "when, after they have decisively expressed an opinion, we women dare unhesitatingly to assert a different one," so, as she would on no account hurt the feelings of the friend to whom she owed so much, she said kindly: "i do not care to enquire into the meaning of your strange prognostication. thank god, by your kindness and care i have severed every tie that could have bound me to my poor uncle's son!--now we will drop the subject; we have said too much about him already." "that is quite my opinion," replied philippus. "and, indeed, i would beg you quite to forget my 'perhaps.' i live wholly in the present and am no prophet; but i foresee, nevertheless, that orion will make every effort, cost what it may. . . ." "well?" "to approach you again, to win your forgiveness, to touch your heart, to......" "let him dare" exclaimed paula lifting her hand with a threatening gesture. "and when he, gifted as he is in every way, has found his better self again and can come forward purified and worthy of the approbation of the best. . . ." "still i will never, never forget how he has sinned and what he brought upon me!--do you think that i have already forgotten your conversation with neforis? you ask nothing of your friends but honest feeling akin to your own,--and what is it that repels me from orion but feeling? thousands have altered their behavior, but--answer me frankly--surely not what we mean by their feeling?" "yes, that too," said the leech with stern gravity. "feeling, too, may change. or do you range yourself on the side of the arab merchant and his fellow-moslems, who regard man as the plaything of a blind fate?-but our spiritual teachers tell us that the evil to which we are predestined, which is that born into the world with us, may be averted, turned and guided to good by what they call spiritual regeneration. but who that lives in the tumult of the world can ever succeed in 'killing himself' in their sense of the word, in dying while yet he lives, to be born again, a new man? the penitent's garb does not suit the stature of an orion; however, there is for him another way of returning to the path he has lost. fortune has hitherto offered her spoilt favorite so much pleasure, that sheer enjoyment has left him no time to think seriously on life itself; now she is showing him its graver side, she is inviting him to reflect; and if he only finds a friend to give him the counsel which my father left in a letter for me, his only child, as a youth--and if he is ready to listen, i regard him as saved." "and that word of counsel--what is it?" asked paula with interest. "to put it briefly, it is this: life is not a banquet spread by fate for our enjoyment, but a duty which we are bound to fulfil to the best of our power. each one must test his nature and gifts, and the better he uses them for the weal and benefit of the body of which he was born a member, the higher will his inmost gladness be, the more certainly will he attain to a beautiful peace of mind, the less terrors will death have for him. in the consciousness of having sown seed for eternity he will close his eyes like a faithful steward at the end of each day, and of the last hour vouchsafed to him on earth. if orion recognizes this, if he submits to accept the duties imposed on him by existence, if he devotes himself to them now for the first time to the best of his powers, a day may come when i shall look up to him with respect--nay, with admiration. the shipwreck of which the arab spoke has overtaken him. let us see how he will save himself from the waves, and behave when he is cast on shore." "let us see!" repeated paula, "and wish that he may find such an adviser! as you were speaking it struck me that it was my part.--but no, no! he has placed himself beyond the pale of the compassion which i might have felt even for an enemy after such a frightful blow. he! he can and shall never be anything to me till the end of time. i have to thank you for having found me this haven of rest. help me now to keep out everything that can intrude itself here to disturb my peace. if orion should ever dare, for whatever purpose, to force or steal a way into this house, i trust to you, my friend and deliverer!" she held out her hand to philippus, and as he took it the blood seethed in his veins with tender emotion. "my strength, like my heart, is wholly yours!" he exclaimed ardently. "command them, and if the devoted love of a faithful, plain-spoken man--" "say no more, no, no!" paula broke in with anxious vehemence. "let us remain closely bound together by friendship-as brother and sister." "as brother and sister?" he dully echoed with a melancholy smile. "aye, friendship too is a beautiful, beautiful thing. but yet--let me speak-i have dreamed of love, the tossing sea of passion; i have felt its surges here--in here; i feel them still.... but man, man," and he struck his forehead with his fist, "have you forgotten, like a fool, what your image is in the mirror; have you forgotten that you are an ugly, clumsy fellow, and that the gorgeous flower you long for. . . ." paula had shrunk back, startled by her friend's vehemence; but she now went up to him, and taking his hand with frank spirit, she said impressively: "it is not so, philippus, my dear, kind, only friend. the gorgeous flower you desire i can no longer give you--or any one. it is mine no longer; for when it had opened, once for all, cruel feet trod it down. do not abuse your mirrored image; do not call yourself a clumsy fellow. the best and fairest might be proud of your love, just as you are. am i not proud, shall i not always be proud of your friendship?" "friendship, friendship!" he retorted, snatching away his hand. "this burning, longing heart thirsts for other feelings! oh, woman! i know the wretch who has trodden down the flower of flowers in your heart, and i, madman that i am, can sing his praises, can take his part; and cost what it may, i will still do so as long as you.... but perhaps the glorious flower may strike new roots in the soil of hatred and i, the hapless wretch who water it, may see it." at this, paula again took both his hands, and exclaimed in deep and painful agitation of mind: "say no more, i beg and entreat you. how can i live in peace here, under your protection and in constant intercourse with you, without knowing myself guilty of a breach of propriety such as the most sacred feelings of a young girl bid her avoid, if you persist in overstepping the limits which bound true and faithful friendship? i am a lonely girl and should give myself up to despair, as lost, if i could not take refuge in the belief that i can rely upon myself. be satisfied with what i have to offer you, my friend, and may god reward you! let us both remain worthy of the esteem which, thank heaven! we are fully justified in feeling for each other." the physician, deeply moved, bent his head; scarcely able to control himself, he pressed her firm white hand to his lips, while, just at this moment, perpetua and the treasurer came into the room. this worthy official--a perfectly commonplace man, neither tall nor short, neither old nor young, with a pale, anxious face, furrowed by work and responsibility, but shrewd and finely cut-glanced keenly at the pair, and then proceeded to lay a considerable sum in gold pieces before paula. his young master had sent it, in obedience to his deceased father's wishes, for her immediate needs; the rest, the larger part of her fortune, with a full account, would be given over to her after the mukaukas was buried. nilus could, however, give her an approximate idea of the sum, and it was so considerable that paula could not believe her ears. she now saw herself secure against external anxiety, nay, in such ease that she was justified in living at some expense. philippus was present throughout the interview, and it cut him to the heart. it had made him so happy to think that he was all in all to the poor orphan, and could shelter her against pressing want. he had been prepared to take upon himself the care of providing paula with the home she had found and everything she could need; and now, as it turned out, his protege was not merely higher in rank than himself, but much richer. he felt as though orion's envoy had robbed him of the best joy in life. after introducing paula to her worthy host and his family, he quitted the house of rufinus with a very crushed aspect. when night came perpetua once more enjoyed the privilege of assisting her young mistress to undress; but paula could not sleep, and when she joined her new friends next morning she told herself that here, if anywhere, was the place where she might recover her lost peace, but that she must still have a hard struggle and a long pilgrimage before she could achieve this. etext editor's bookmarks: in whom some good quality or other may not be discovered life is not a banquet this ebook was produced by david widger <widger@cecomet.net> [note: there is a short list of bookmarks, or pointers, at the end of the file for those who may wish to sample the author's ideas before making an entire meal of them. d.w.] an egyptian princess, part 2. by georg ebers volume 7. chapter v. before the sun had reached his mid-day height, the news of what had happened and of what was still to happen had filled all babylon. the streets swarmed with people, waiting impatiently to see the strange spectacle which the punishment of one of the king's wives, who had proved false and faithless, promised to afford. the whip-bearers were forced to use all their authority to keep this gaping crowd in order. later on in the day the news that bartja and his friends were soon to be executed arrived among the crowd; they were under the influence of the palm-wine, which was liberally distributed on the king's birthday and the following days, and could not control their excited feelings; but these now took quite another form. bands of drunken men paraded the streets, crying: "bartja, the good son of cyrus, is to be executed!" the women heard these words in their quiet apartments, eluded their keepers, forgot their veils, and rushing forth into the streets, followed the excited and indignant men with cries and yells. their pleasure in the thought of seeing a more fortunate sister humbled, vanished at the painful news that their beloved prince was condemned to death. men, women and children raged, stormed and cursed, exciting one another to louder and louder bursts of indignation. the workshops were emptied, the merchants closed their warehouses, and the school-boys and servants, who had a week's holiday on occasion of the king's birthday, used their freedom to scream louder than any one else, and often to groan and yell without in the least knowing why. at last the tumult was so great that the whip-bearers were insufficient to cope with it, and a detachment of the body-guard was sent to patrol the streets. at the sight of their shining armor and long lances, the crowd retired into the side streets, only, however, to reassemble in fresh numbers when the troops were out of sight. at the gate, called the bel gate, which led to the great western highroad, the throng was thicker than at any other point, for it was said that through this gate, the one by which she had entered babylon, the egyptian princess was to be led out of the city in shame and disgrace. for this reason a larger number of whipbearers were stationed here, in order to make way for travellers entering the city. very few people indeed left the city at all on this day, for curiosity was stronger than either business or pleasure; those, on the other hand, who arrived from the country, took up their stations near the gate on hearing what had drawn the crowd thither. it was nearly mid-day, and only wanted a few hours to the time fixed for nitetis' disgrace, when a caravan approached the gate with great speed. the first carriage was a so-called harmamaxa, drawn by four horses decked out with bells and tassels; a two-wheeled cart followed, and last in the train was a baggage-wagon drawn by mules. a fine, handsome man of about fifty, dressed as a persian courtier, and another, much older, in long white robes, occupied the first carriage. the cart was filled by a number of slaves in simple blouses, and broad-brimmed felt hats, wearing the hair cut close to the head. an old man, dressed as a persian servant, rode by the side of the cart. the driver of the first carriage had great difficulty in making way for his gaily-ornamented horses through the crowd; he was obliged to come to a halt before the gate and call some whip-bearers to his assistance. "make way for us!" he cried to the captain of the police who came up with some of his men; "the royal post has no time to lose, and i am driving some one, who will make you repent every minute's delay." "softly, my son," answered the official. "don't you see that it's easier to-day to get out of babylon, than to come in? whom are you driving?" "a nobleman, with a passport from the king. come, be quick and make way for us." "i don't know about that; your caravan does not look much like royalty." "what have you to do with that? the pass...." "i must see it, before i let you into the city." these words were halfmeant for the traveller, whom he was scrutinizing very suspiciously. while the man in the persian dress was feeling in his sleeve for the passport, the whip-bearer turned to some comrades who had just come up, and pointed out the scanty retinue of the travellers, saying: "did you ever see such a queer cavalcade? there's something odd about these strangers, as sure as my name's giv. why, the lowest of the king's carpet-bearers travels with four times as many people, and yet this man has a royal pass and is dressed like one of those who sit at the royal table." at this moment the suspected traveller handed him a little silken roll scented with musk, sealed with the royal seal, and containing the king's own handwriting. the whip-bearer took it and examined the seal. "it is all in order," he murmured, and then began to study the characters. but no sooner had he deciphered the first letters than be looked even more sharply than before at the traveller, and seized the horses' bridles, crying out: "here, men, form a guard round the carriage! this is an impostor." when he had convinced himself that escape was impossible, he went up to the stranger again and said: "you are using a pass which does not belong to you. gyges, the son of croesus, the man you give yourself out for, is in prison and is to be executed to-day. you are not in the least like him, and you will have reason to repent leaving tried to pass for him. get out of your carriage and follow me." the traveller, however, instead of obeying, began to speak in broken persian, and begged the officer rather to take a seat by him in the carriage, for that he had very important news to communicate. the man hesitated a moment; but on seeing a fresh band of whip-bearers come up, he nodded to them to stand before the impatient, chafing horses, and got into the carriage. the stranger looked at him with a smile and said: "now, do i look like an impostor?" "no; your language proves that you are not a persian, but yet you look like a nobleman." "i am a greek, and have come hither to render cambyses an important service. gyges is my friend, and lent me his passport when he was in egypt, in case i should ever come to persia. i am prepared to vindicate my conduct before the king, and have no reason for fear. on the contrary, the news i bring gives me reason to expect much from his favor. let me be taken to croesus, if this is your duty; he will be surety for me, and will send back your men, of whom you seem to stand in great need to-day. distribute these gold pieces among them, and tell me without further delay what my poor friend gyges has done to deserve death, and what is the reason of all this crowd and confusion." the stranger said this in bad persian, but there lay so much dignity and confidence in his tone, and his gifts were on such a large scale, that the cringing and creeping servant of despotism felt sure he must be sitting opposite to a prince, crossed his arms reverentially, and, excusing himself from his many pressing affairs, began to relate rapidly. he had been on duty in the great hall during the examination of the prisoners the night before, and could therefore tell all that had happened with tolerable accuracy. the greek followed his tale eagerly, with many an incredulous shake of his handsome head, however, when the daughter of amasis and the son of cyrus were spoken of as having been disloyal and false, that sentence of death had been pronounced, especially on croesus, distressed him visibly, but the sadness soon vanished from his quickly-changing features, and gave place to thought; this in its turn was quickly followed by a joyful look, which could only betoken that the thinker had arrived at a satisfactory result. his dignified gravity vanished in a moment; he laughed aloud, struck his forehead merrily, seized the hand of the astonished captain, and said: "should you be glad, if bartja could be saved?" "more than i can say." "very well, then i will vouch for it, that you shall receive at least two talents, if you can procure me an interview with the king before the first execution has taken place." "how can you ask such a thing of me, a poor captain? . . ." "yes, you must, you must!" "i cannot." "i know well that it is very difficult, almost impossible, for a stranger to obtain an audience of your king; but my errand brooks no delay, for i can prove that bartja and his friends are not guilty. do you hear? i can prove it. do you think now, you can procure me admittance?" "how is it possible?" "don't ask, but act. didn't you say darius was one of the condemned?" "yes." "i have heard, that his father is a man of very high rank." "he is the first in the kingdom, after the sons of cyrus." "then take me to him at once. he will welcome me when he hears i am able to save his son." "stranger, you are a wonderful being. you speak with so much confidence that . . ." "that you feel you may believe me. make haste then, and call some of your men to make way for us, and escort us to the palace." there is nothing, except a doubt, which runs more quickly from mind to mind, than a hope that some cherished wish may be fulfilled, especially when this hope has been suggested to us by some one we can trust. the officer believed this strange traveller, jumped out of the carriage, flourishing his scourge and calling to his men: "this nobleman has come on purpose to prove bartja's innocence, and must be taken to the king at once. follow me, my friends, and make way for him!" just at that moment a troop of the guards appeared in sight. the captain of the whip-bearers went up to their commander, and, seconded by the shouts of the crowd, begged him to escort the stranger to the palace. during this colloquy the traveller had mounted his servant's horse, and now followed in the wake of the persians. the good news flew like wind through the huge city. as the riders proceeded, the crowd fell back more willingly, and loader and fuller grew the shouts of joy until at last their march was like a triumphal procession. in a few minutes they drew up before the palace; but before the brazen gates had opened to admit them, another train came slowly into sight. at the head rode a grey-headed old man; his robes were brown, and rent, in token of mourning, the mane and tail of his horse had been shorn off and the creature colored blue.--it was hystaspes, coming to entreat mercy for his son. the whip-bearer, delighted at this sight, threw himself down before the old man with a cry of joy, and with crossed arms told him what confidence the traveller had inspired him with. hystaspes beckoned to the stranger; he rode up, bowed gracefully and courteously to the old man, without dismounting, and confirmed the words of the whip bearer. hystaspes seemed to feel fresh confidence too after hearing the stranger, for he begged him to follow him into the palace and to wait outside the door of the royal apartment, while he himself, conducted by the head chamberlain, went in to the king. when his old kinsman entered, cambyses was lying on his purple couch, pale as death. a cup-bearer was kneeling on the ground at his feet, trying to collect the broken fragments of a costly egyptian drinking-cup which the king had thrown down impatiently because its contents had not pleased his taste. at some distance stood a circle of court-officials, in whose faces it was easy to read that they were afraid of their ruler's wrath, and preferred keeping as far from him as possible. the dazzling light and oppressive heat of a babylonian may day came in through the open windows, and not a sound was to be heard in the great room, except the whining of a large dog of the epirote breed, which had just received a tremendous kick from cambyses for venturing to fawn on his master, and was the only being that ventured to disturb the solemn stillness. just before hystaspes was led in by the chamberlain, cambyses had sprung up from his couch. this idle repose had become unendurable, he felt suffocated with pain and anger. the dog's howl suggested a new idea to his poor tortured brain, thirsting for forgetfulness. "we will go out hunting!" he shouted to the poor startled courtiers. the master of the hounds, the equerries, and huntsmen hastened to obey his orders. he called after them, "i shall ride the unbroken horse reksch; get the falcons ready, let all the dogs out and order every one to come, who can throw a spear. we'll clear the preserves!" he then threw himself down on his divan again, as if these words had quite exhausted his powerful frame, and did not see that hystaspes had entered, for his sullen gaze was fixed on the motes playing in the sunbeams that glanced through the window. hystaspes did not dare to address him; but he stationed himself in the window so as to break the stream of motes and thus draw attention to himself. at first cambyses looked angrily at him and his rent garments, and then asked with a bitter smile; "what do you want?" "victory to the king! your poor servant and uncle has come to entreat his ruler's mercy." "then rise and go! you know that i have no mercy for perjurers and false swearers. 'tis better to have a dead son than a dishonorable one." "but if bartja should not be guilty, and darius . . ." "you dare to question the justice of my sentence?" "that be far from me. whatever the king does is good, and cannot be gainsaid; but still . . ." "be silent! i will not hear the subject mentioned again. you are to be pitied as a father; but have these last few hours brought me any joy? old man, i grieve for you, but i have as little power to rescind his punishment as you to recall his crime." "but if bartja really should not be guilty--if the gods . . ." "do you think the gods will come to the help of perjurers and deceivers?" "no, my king; but a fresh witness has appeared." "a fresh witness? verily, i would gladly give half my kingdom, to be convinced of the innocence of men so nearly related to me." "victory to my lord, the eye of the realm! a greek is waiting outside, who seems, to judge by his figure and bearing, one of the noblest of his race." the king laughed bitterly: "a greek! ah, ha! perhaps some relation to bartja's faithful fair one! what can this stranger know of my family affairs? i know these beggarly ionians well. they are impudent enough to meddle in everything, and think they can cheat us with their sly tricks. how much have you had to pay for this new witness, uncle? a greek is as ready with a lie as a magian with his spells, and i know they'll do anything for gold. i'm really curious to see your witness. call him in. but if he wants to deceive me, he had better remember that where the head of a son of cyrus is about to fall, a greek head has but very little chance." and the king's eyes flashed with anger as he said these words. hystaspes, however, sent for the greek. before he entered, the chamberlains fastened the usual cloth before his mouth, and commanded him to cast himself on the ground before the king. the greek's bearing, as he approached, under the king's penetrating glance, was calm and noble; he fell on his face, and, according to the persian custom, kissed the ground. his agreeable and handsome appearance, and the calm and modest manner in which he bore the king's gaze, seemed to make a favorable impression on the latter; he did not allow him to remain long on the earth, and asked him in a by no means unfriendly tone: "who are you?" "i am a greek nobleman. my name is phanes, and athens is my home. i have served ten years as commander of the greek mercenaries in egypt, and not ingloriously." "are you the man, to whose clever generalship the egyptians were indebted for their victories in cyprus?" "i am." "what has brought you to persia?" "the glory of your name, cambyses, and the wish to devote my arms and experience to your service." "nothing else? be sincere, and remember that one single lie may cost your life. we persians have different ideas of truth from the greeks." "lying is hateful to me too, if only, because, as a distortion and corruption of what is noblest, it seems unsightly in my eyes." "then speak." "there was certainly a third reason for my coming hither, which i should like to tell you later. it has reference to matters of the greatest importance, which it will require a longer time to discuss; but to-day--" "just to-day i should like to hear something new. accompany me to the chase. you come exactly at the right time, for i never had more need of diversion than now." "i will accompany you with pleasure, if. . ." "no conditions to the king! have you had much practice in hunting?" "in the libyan desert i have killed many a lion." "then come, follow me." in the thought of the chase the king seemed to have thrown off all his weakness and roused himself to action; he was just leaving the hall, when hystaspes once more threw himself at his feet, crying with up-raised hands: "is my son--is your brother, to die innocent? by the soul of your father, who used to call me his truest friend, i conjure you to listen to this noble stranger." cambyses stood still. the frown gathered on his brow again, his voice sounded like a menace and his eyes flashed as he raised his hand and said to the greek: "tell me what you know; but remember that in every untrue word, you utter your own sentence of death." phanes heard this threat with the greatest calmness, and answered, bowing gracefully as he spoke: "from the sun and from my lord the king, nothing can be hid. what power has a poor mortal to conceal the truth from one so mighty? the noble hystaspes has said, that i am able to prove your brother innocent. i will only say, that i wish and hope i may succeed in accomplishing anything so great and beautiful. the gods have at least allowed me to discover a trace which seems calculated to throw light on the events of yesterday; but you yourself must decide whether my hopes have been presumptuous and my suspicions too easily aroused. remember, however, that throughout, my wish to serve you has been sincere, and that if i have been deceived, my error is pardonable; that nothing is perfectly certain in this world, and every man believes that to be infallible which seems to him the most probable." "you speak well, and remind me of . . . curse her! there, speak and have done with it! i hear the dogs already in the court." "i was still in egypt when your embassy came to fetch nitetis. at the house of rhodopis, my delightful, clever and celebrated countrywoman, i made the acquaintance of croesus and his son; i only saw your brother and his friends once or twice, casually; still i remembered the young prince's handsome face so well, that some time later, when i was in the workshop of the great sculptor theodorus at samos, i recognized his features at once." "did you meet him at samos?" "no, but his features had made such a deep and faithful impression on theodorus' memory, that he used them to beautify the head of an apollo, which the achaemenidae had ordered for the new temple of delphi." "your tale begins, at least, incredibly enough. how is it possible to copy features so exactly, when you have not got them before you?" "i can only answer that theodorus has really completed this master-piece, and if you wish for a proof of his skill would gladly send you a second likeness of . . ." "i have no desire for it. go on with your story." "on my journey hither, which, thanks to your father's excellent arrangements, i performed in an incredibly short time, changing horses every sixteen or seventeen miles . . ." "who allowed you, a foreigner, to use the posthorses?" "the pass drawn out for the son of croesus, which came by chance into my hands, when once, in order to save my life, he forced me to change clothes with him." "a lydian can outwit a fox, and a syrian a lydian, but an ionian is a match for both," muttered the king, smiling for the first time; "croesus told me this story--poor croesus!" and then the old gloomy expression came over his face and he passed his hand across his forehead, as if trying to smooth the lines of care away. the athenian went on: "i met with no hindrances on my journey till this morning at the first hour after midnight, when i was detained by a strange occurrence." the king began to listen more attentively, and reminded the athenian, who spoke persian with difficulty, that there was no time to lose. "we had reached the last station but one," continued he, "and hoped to be in babylon by sunrise. i was thinking over my past stirring life, and was so haunted by the remembrance of evil deeds unrevenged that i could not sleep; the old egyptian at my side, however, slept and dreamt peacefully enough, lulled by the monotonous tones of the harness bells, the sound of the horses' hoofs and the murmur of the euphrates. it was a wonderfully still, beautiful night; the moon and stars were so brilliant, that our road and the landscape were lighted up almost with the brightness of day. for the last hour we had not seen a single vehicle, foot-passenger, or horseman; we had heard that all the neighboring population had assembled in babylon to celebrate your birthday, gaze with wonder at the splendor of your court, and enjoy your liberality. at last the irregular beat of horses' hoofs, and the sound of bells struck my ear, and a few minutes later i distinctly heard cries of distress. my resolve was taken at once; i made my persian servant dismount, sprang into his saddle, told the driver of the cart in which my slaves were sitting not to spare his mules, loosened my dagger and sword in their scabbards, and spurred my horse towards the place from whence the cries came. they grew louder and louder. i had not ridden a minute, when i came on a fearful scene. three wild-looking fellows had just pulled a youth, dressed in the white robes of a magian, from his horse, stunned him with heavy blows, and, just as i reached them, were on the point of throwing him into the euphrates, which at that place washes the roots of the palms and fig-trees bordering the high-road. i uttered my greek war-cry, which has made many an enemy tremble before now, and rushed on the murderers. such fellows are always cowards; the moment they saw one of their accomplices mortally wounded, they fled. i did not pursue them, but stooped down to examine the poor boy, who was severely wounded. how can i describe my horror at seeing, as i believed, your brother bartja? yes, they were the very same features that i had seen, first at naukratis and then in theodorus' workshop, they were . . ." "marvellous!" interrupted hystaspes. "perhaps a little too much so to be credible," added the king. "take care, hellene! remember my arm reaches far. i shall have the truth of your story put to the proof." "i am accustomed," answered phanes bowing low, "to follow the advice of our wise philosopher pythagoras, whose fame may perhaps have reached your ears, and always, before speaking, to consider whether what i am going to say may not cause me sorrow in the future." "that sounds well; but, by mithras, i knew some one who often spoke of that great teacher, and yet in her deeds turned out to be a most faithful disciple of angramainjus. you know the traitress, whom we are going to extirpate from the earth like a poisonous viper to-day." "will you forgive me," answered phanes, seeing the anguish expressed in the king's features, "if i quote another of the great master's maxims?" "speak." "blessings go as quickly as they come. therefore bear thy lot patiently. murmur not, and remember that the gods never lay a heavier weight on any man than he can bear. hast thou a wounded heart? touch it as seldom as thou wouldst a sore eye. there are only two remedies for heartsickness:--hope and patience." cambyses listened to this sentence, borrowed from the golden maxims of pythagoras, and smiled bitterly at the word "patience." still the athenian's way of speaking pleased him, and he told him to go on with his story. phanes made another deep obeisance, and continued: "we carried the unconscious youth to my carriage, and brought him to the nearest station. there he opened his eyes, looked anxiously at me, and asked who i was and what had happened to him? the master of the station was standing by, so i was obliged to give the name of gyges in order not to excite his suspicions by belying my pass, as it was only through this that i could obtain fresh horses. "this wounded young man seemed to know gyges, for he shook his head and murmured: 'you are not the man you give yourself out for.' then he closed his eyes again, and a violent attack of fever came on. "we undressed, bled him and bound up his wounds. my persian servant, who had served as overlooker in amasis' stables and had seen bartja there, assisted by the old egyptian who accompanied me, was very helpful, and asserted untiringly that the wounded man could be no other than your brother. when we had cleansed the blood from his face, the master of the station too swore that there could be no doubt of his being the younger son of your great father cyrus. meanwhile my egyptian companion had fetched a potion from the travelling medicine-chest, without which an egyptian does not care to leave his native country. [a similar travelling medicine-chest is to be seen in the egyptian museum at berlin. it is prettily and compendiously fitted up, and must be very ancient, for the inscription on the chest, which contained it stated that it was made in the 11th dynasty (end of the third century b. c.) in the reign of king mentuhotep.] the drops worked wonders; in a few hours the fever was quieted, and at sunrise the patient opened his eyes once more. we bowed down before him, believing him to be your brother, and asked if he would like to be taken to the palace in babylon. this he refused vehemently, and asseverated that he was not the man we took him for, but, . . ." "who can be so like bartja? tell me quickly," interrupted the king, "i am very curious to know this." "he declared that he was the brother of your high-priest, that his name was gaumata, and that this would be proved by the pass which we should find in the sleeve of his magian's robe. the landlord found this document and, being able to read, confirmed the statement of the sick youth; he was, however, soon seized by a fresh attack of fever, and began to speak incoherently." "could you understand him?" "yes, for his talk always ran on the same subject. the hanging-gardens seemed to fill his thoughts. he must have just escaped some great danger, and probably had had a lover's meeting there with a woman called mandane." "mandane, mandane," said cambyses in a low voice; "if i do not mistake, that is the name of the highest attendant on amasis' daughter." these words did not escape the sharp ears of the greek. he thought a moment and then exclaimed with a smile; "set the prisoners free, my king; i will answer for it with my own head, that bartja was not in the hanging-gardens." the king was surprised at this speech but not angry. the free, unrestrained, graceful manner of this athenian towards himself produced the same impression, that a fresh sea-breeze makes when felt for the first time. the nobles of his own court, even his nearest relations, approached him bowing and cringing, but this greek stood erect in his presence; the persians never ventured to address their ruler without a thousand flowery and flattering phrases, but the athenian was simple, open and straightforward. yet his words were accompanied by such a charm of action and expression, that the king could understand them, notwithstanding the defective persian in which they were clothed, better than the allegorical speeches of his own subjects. nitetis and phanes were the only human beings, who had ever made him forget that he was a king. with them he was a man speaking to his fellow-man, instead of a despot speaking with creatures whose very existence was the plaything of his own caprice. such is the effect produced by real manly dignity, superior culture and the consciousness of a right to freedom, on the mind even of a tyrant. but there was something beside all this, that had helped to win cambyses' favor for the athenian. this man's coming seemed as if it might possibly give him back the treasure he had believed was lost and more than lost. but how could the life of such a foreign adventurer be accepted as surety for the sons of the highest persians in the realm? the proposal, however, did not make him angry. on the contrary, he could not help smiling at the boldness of this greek, who in his eagerness had freed himself from the cloth which hung over his mouth and beard, and exclaimed: "by mithras, greek, it really seems as if you were to prove a messenger of good for us! i accept your offer. if the prisoners, notwithstanding your supposition, should still prove guilty you are bound to pass your whole life at my court and in my service, but if, on the contrary, you are able to prove what i so ardently long for, i will make you richer than any of your countrymen." phanes answered by a smile which seemed to decline this munificent offer, and asked: "is it permitted me to put a few questions to yourself and to the officers of your court?" "you are allowed to say and ask whatever you wish." at this moment the master of the huntsmen, one of those who daily ate at the king's table, entered, out of breath from his endeavors to hasten the preparations, and announced that all was ready. "they must wait," was the king's imperious answer. "i am not sure, that we shall hunt at all to-day. where is bischen, the captain of police?" datis, the so-called "eye of the king," who held the office filled in modern days by a minister of police, hurried from the room, returning in a few minutes with the desired officer. these moments phanes made use of for putting various questions on important points to the nobles who were present. "what news can you bring of the prisoners?" asked the king, as the man lay prostrate before him. "victory to the king! they await death with calmness, for it is sweet to die by thy will." "have you heard anything of their conversation?" "yes, my ruler." "do they acknowledge their guilt, when speaking to each other?" "mithras alone knows the heart; but you, my prince, if you could hear them speak, would believe in their innocence, even as i the humblest of your servants." the captain looked up timidly at the king, fearing lest these words should have excited his anger; cambyses, however, smiled kindly instead of rebuking him. but a sudden thought darkened his brow again directly, and in a low voice he asked: "when was croesus executed?" the man trembled at this question; the perspiration stood on his forehead, and he could scarcely stammer the words: "he is.... he has.... we thought...." "what did you think?" interrupted cambyses, and a new light of hope seemed to dawn in his mind. "is it possible, that you did not carry out my orders at once? can croesus still be alive? speak at once, i must know the whole truth." the captain writhed like a worm at his lord's feet, and at last stammered out, raising his hands imploringly towards the king: "have mercy, have mercy, my lord the king! i am a poor man, and have thirty children, fifteen of whom . . ." "i wish to know if croesus is living or dead." "he is alive! he has done so much for me, and i did not think i was doing wrong in allowing him to live a few hours longer, that he might..." "that is enough," said the king breathing freely. "this once your disobedience shall go unpunished, and the treasurer may give you two talents, as you have so many children.--now go to the prisoners,--tell croesus to come hither, and the others to be of good courage, if they are innocent." "my king is the light of the world, and an ocean of mercy." "bartja and his friends need not remain any longer in confinement; they can walk in the court of the palace, and you will keep guard over them. you, datis, go at once to the hanging-gardens and order boges to defer the execution of the sentence on the egyptian princess; and further, i wish messengers sent to the post-station mentioned by the athenian, and the wounded man brought hither under safe escort." the " king's eye " was on the point of departure, but phanes detained him, saying: "does my king allow me to make one remark?" "speak." "it appears to me, that the chief of the eunuchs could give the most accurate information. during his delirium the youth often mentioned his name in connection with that of the girl he seemed to be in love with." "go at once, datis, and bring him quickly." "the high-priest oropastes, gaumata's brother, ought to appear too; and mandane, whom i have just been assured on the most positive authority, is the principal attendant of the egyptian princess." "fetch her, datis." "if nitetis herself could . . ." at this the king turned pale and a cold shiver ran through his limbs. how he longed to see his darling again! but the strong man was afraid of this woman's reproachful looks; he knew the captivating power that lay in her eyes. so he pointed to the door, saying "fetch boges and mandane; the egyptian princess is to remain in the hanging-gardens, under strict custody." the athenian bowed deferentially; as if he would say: "here no one has a right to command but the king." cambyses looked well pleased, seated himself again on the purple divan, and resting his forehead on his hand, bent his eyes on the ground and sank into deep thought. the picture of the woman he loved so dearly refused to be banished; it came again and again, more and more vividly, and the thought that these features could not have deceived him--that nitetis must be innocent--took a firmer root in his mind; he had already begun to hope. if bartja could be cleared, there was no error that might not be conceivable; in that case he would go to the hanging-gardens, take her hand and listen to her defence. when love has once taken firm hold of a man in riper years, it runs and winds through his whole nature like one of his veins, and can only be destroyed with his life. the entrance of croesus roused cambyses from his dream; he raised the old man kindly from the prostrate position at his feet, into which he had thrown himself on entering, and said: "you offended me, but i will be merciful; i have not forgotten that my father, on his dying bed, told me to make you my friend and adviser. take your life back as a gift from me, and forget my anger as i wish to forget your want of reverence. this man says he knows you; i should like to hear your opinion of his conjectures." croesus turned away much affected, and after having heartily welcomed the athenian, asked him to relate his suppositions and the grounds on which they were founded. the old man grew more and more attentive as the greek went on, and when he had finished raised his hands to heaven, crying: "pardon me, oh ye eternal gods, if i have ever questioned the justice of your decrees. is not this marvellous, cambyses? my son once placed himself in great danger to save the life of this noble athenian, whom the gods have brought hither to repay the deed tenfold. had phanes been murdered in egypt, this hour might have seen our sons executed." and as he said this he embraced hystaspes; both shared one feeling; their sons had been as dead and were now alive. the king, phanes, and all the persian dignitaries watched the old men with deep sympathy, and though the proofs of bartja's innocence were as yet only founded on conjecture, not one of those present doubted it one moment longer. wherever the belief in a man's guilt is but slight, his defender finds willing listeners. chapter vi. the sharp-witted athenian saw clearly how matters lay in this sad story; nor did it escape him that malice had had a hand in the affair. how could bartja's dagger have come into the hanging-gardens except through treachery? while he was telling the king his suspicions, oropastes was led into the hall. the king looked angrily at him and without one preliminary word, asked: "have you a brother?" "yes, my king. he and i are the only two left out of a family of six. my parents . . ." "is your brother younger or older than yourself?" "i was the eldest of the family; my brother, the youngest, was the joy of my father's old age." "did you ever notice a remarkable likeness between him and one of my relations?" "yes, my king. gaumata is so like your brother bartja, that in the school for priests at rhagae, where he still is, he was always called "the prince." "has he been at babylon very lately?" "he was here for the last time at the new year's festival." "are you speaking the truth?" "the sin of lying would be doubly punishable in one who wears my robes, and holds my office." the king's face flushed with anger at this answer and he exclaimed: "nevertheless you are lying; gaumata was here yesterday evening. you may well tremble." "my life belongs to the king, whose are all things; nevertheless i swear --the high-priest-by the most high god, whom i have served faithfully for thirty years, that i know nothing of my brother's presence in babylon yesterday." "your face looks as if you were speaking the truth." "you know that i was not absent from your side the whole of that high holiday." "i know it." again the doors opened; this time they admitted the trembling mandane. the high-priest cast such a look of astonishment and enquiry on her, that the king saw she must be in some way connected with him, and therefore, taking no notice of the trembling girl who lay at his feet, he asked: "do you know this woman?" "yes, my king. i obtained for her the situation of upper attendant to the--may auramazda forgive her!--king of egypt's daughter." "what led you,--a priest,--to do a favor to this girl?" "her parents died of the same pestilence, which carried off my brothers. her father was a priest, respected, and a friend of our family; so we adopted the little girl, remembering the words: 'if thou withhold help from the man who is pure in heart and from his widow and orphans, then shall the pure, subject earth cast thee out unto the stinging-nettles, to painful sufferings and to the most fearful regions!' thus i became her foster-father, and had her brought up with my youngest brother until he was obliged to enter the school for priests." the king exchanged a look of intelligence with phanes, and asked: "why did not you keep the girl longer with you?" "when she had received the ear-rings i, as priest, thought it more suitable to send such a young girl away from my house, and to put her in a position to earn her own living." "has she seen your brother since she has been grown up?" "yes, my king. whenever gaumata came to see me i allowed him to be with her as with a sister; but on discovering later that the passionate love of youth had begun to mingle with the childish friendship of former days, i felt strengthened in my resolution to send her away." "now we know enough," said the king, commanding the high-priest by a nod to retire. he then looked down on the prostrate girl, and said imperiously: "rise!" mandane rose, trembling with fear. her fresh young face was pale as death, and her red lips were blue from terror. "tell all you know about yesterday evening; but remember, a lie and your death are one and the same." the girl's knees trembled so violently that she could hardly stand, and her fear entirely took away the power of speaking. "i have not much patience," exclaimed cambyses. mandane started, grew paler still, but could not speak. then phanes came forward and asked the angry king to allow him to examine the girl, as he felt sure that fear alone had closed her lips and that a kind word would open them. cambyses allowed this, and the athenian's words proved true; no sooner had he assured mandane of the good-will of all present, laid his hand on her head and spoken kindly to her, than the source of her tears was unlocked, she wept freely, the spell which had seemed to chain her tongue, vanished, and she began to tell her story, interrupted only by low sobs. she hid nothing, confessed that boges had given her his sanction and assistance to the meeting with gaumata, and ended by saying: "i know that i have forfeited my life, and am the worst and most ungrateful creature in the world; but none of all this would have happened, if oropastes had allowed his brother to marry me." the serious audience, even the king himself, could not resist a smile at the longing tone in which these words were spoken and the fresh burst of sobs which succeeded them. and this smile saved her life. but cambyses would not have smiled, after hearing such a story, if mandane, with that instinct which always seems to stand at a woman's command in the hour of her greatest danger, had not known how to seize his weak side, and use it for her own interests, by dwelling much longer than was necessary, on the delight which nitetis had manifested at the king's gifts. "a thousand times" cried she, "did my mistress kiss the presents which were brought from you, o king; but oftenest of all did she press her lips to the nosegay which you plucked with your own hands for her, some days ago. and when it began to fade, she took every flower separately, spread out the petals with care, laid them between woollen cloths, and, with her own hands, placed her heavy, golden ointment-box upon them, that they might dry and so she might keep them always as a remembrance of your kindness." seeing cambyses' awful features grow a little milder at these words, the girl took fresh courage, and at last began to put loving words into her mistress's mouth which the latter had never uttered; professing that she herself had heard nitetis a hundred times murmur the word "cambyses" in her sleep with indescribable tenderness. she ended her confession by sobbing and praying for mercy. the king looked down at her with infinite contempt, though without anger, and pushing her away with his foot said: "out of my sight, you dog of a woman! blood like yours would soil the executioner's axe. out of my sight!" mandane needed no second command to depart. the words "out of my sight" sounded like sweet music in her ears. she rushed through the courts of the palace, and out into the streets, crying like a mad woman "i am free! i am free!" she, had scarcely left the hall, when datis, the "king's eye" reappeared with the news that the chief of the eunuchs was nowhere to be found. he had vanished from the hanging-gardens in an unaccountable manner; but he, datis, had left word with his subordinates that he was to be searched for and brought, dead or alive. the king went off into another violent fit of passion at this news, and threatened the officer of police, who prudently concealed the excitement of the crowd from his lord, with a severe punishment, if boges were not in their hands by the next morning. as he finished speaking, a eunuch was brought into the hall, sent by the king's mother to ask an interview for herself with her son. cambyses prepared at once to comply with his mother's wish, at the same time giving phanes his hand to kiss, a rare honor, only shown to those that ate at the king's table, and saying: "all the prisoners are to be set at liberty. go to your sons, you anxious, troubled fathers, and assure them of my mercy and favor. i think we shall be able to find a satrapy a-piece for them, as compensation for to-night's undeserved imprisonment. to you, my greek friend, i am deeply indebted. in discharge of this debt, and as a means of retaining you at my court, i beg you to accept one hundred talents from my treasury." "i shall scarcely be able to use so large a sum," said phanes, bowing low. "then abuse it," said the king with a friendly smile, and calling out to him, "we shall meet again at supper," he left the hall accompanied by his court. ........................ in the meantime there had been sadness and mourning in the apartments of the queen-mother. judging from the contents of the letter to bartja, kassandane had made up her mind that nitetis was faithless, and her own beloved son innocent. but in whom could she ever place confidence again, now that this girl, whom she had looked upon as the very embodiment of every womanly virtue, had proved reprobate and faithless--now that the noblest youths in the realm had proved perjurers? nitetis was more than dead for her; bartja, croesus, darius, gyges, araspes, all so closely allied to her by relationship and friendship, as good as dead. and yet she durst not indulge her sorrow; she had to restrain the despairing outbursts of grief of her impetuous child. atossa behaved like one deprived of her senses when she heard of the sentences of death. the self-control which she had learnt from nitetis gave way, and her old impetuosity burst forth again with double vehemence. nitetis, her only friend,--bartja, the brother whom she loved with her whole heart,--darius, whom she felt now she not only looked up to as her deliverer, but loved with all the warmth of a first affection--croesus to whom she clung like a father,--she was to lose every one she loved in one day. she tore her dress and her hair, called cambyses a monster, and every one who could possibly believe in the guilt of such people, infatuated or insane. then her tears would burst out afresh, she would utter imploring supplications to the gods for mercy, and a few minutes later, begin conjuring her mother to take her to the hanging-gardens, that they might hear nitetis' defence of her own conduct. kassandane tried to soothe the violent girl, and assured her every attempt to visit the hanging-gardens would be in vain. then atossa began to rage again, until at last her mother was forced to command silence, and as morning had already began to dawn, sent her to her sleeping-room. the girl obeyed, but instead of going to bed, seated herself at a tall window looking towards the hanging-gardens. her eyes filled with tears again, as she thought of her friend--her sister-sitting in that palace alone, forsaken, banished, and looking forward to an ignominious death. suddenly her tearful, weary eyes lighted up as if from some strong purpose, and instead of gazing into the distance, she fixed them on a black speck which flew towards her in a straight line from nitetis' house, becoming larger and more distinct every moment; and finally settling on a cypress before her window. the sorrow vanished at once from her lovely face and with a deep sigh of relief she sprang up, exclaiming: "oh, there is the homai, the bird of good fortune! now everything will turn out well." it was the same bird of paradise which had brought so much comfort to nitetis that now gave poor atossa fresh confidence. she bent forward to see whether any one was in the garden; and finding that she would be seen by no one but the old gardener, she jumped out, trembling like a fawn, plucked a few roses and cypress twigs and took them to the old man, who had been watching her performances with a doubtful shake of the head. she stroked his cheeks coaxingly, put her flowers in his brown hand, and said: "do you love me, sabaces?" "o, my mistress!" was the only answer the old man could utter, as he pressed the hem of her robe to his lips. "i believe you, my old friend, and i will show you how i trust my faithful, old sabaces. hide these flowers carefully and go quickly to the king's palace. say that you had to bring fruit for the table. my poor brother bartja, and darius, the son of the noble hystaspes, are in prison, near the guard-house of the immortals. you must manage that these flowers reach them, with a warm greeting from me, but mind, the message must be given with the flowers." "but the guards will not allow me to see the prisoners." "take these rings, and slip them into their hands." "i will do my best." "i knew you loved me, my good sabaces. now make haste, and come back soon." the old man went off as fast as he could. atossa looked thoughtfully after him, murmuring to herself: "now they will both know, that i loved them to the last. the rose means, 'i love you,' and the evergreen cypress, 'true and steadfast.'" the old man came back in an hour; bringing her bartja's favorite ring, and from darius an indian handkerchief dipped in blood. atossa ran to meet him; her eyes filled with tears as she took the tokens, and seating herself under a spreading plane-tree, she pressed them by turns to her lips, murmuring: "bartja's ring means that he thinks of me; the blood-stained handkerchief that darius is ready to shed his heart's blood for me." atossa smiled as she said this, and her tears, when she thought of her friends and their sad fate, were quieter, if not less bitter, than before. a few hours later a messenger arrived from croesus with news that the innocence of bartja and his friends had been proved, and that nitetis was, to all intents and purposes, cleared also. kassandane sent at once to the hanging-gardens, with a request that nitetis would come to her apartments. atossa, as unbridled in her joy as in her grief, ran to meet her friend's litter and flew from one of her attendants to the other crying: "they are all innocent; we shall not lose one of them--not one!" when at last the litter appeared and her loved one, pale as death, within it, she burst into loud sobs, threw her arms round nitetis as she descended, and covered her with kisses and caresses till she perceived that her friend's strength was failing, that her knees gave way, and she required a stronger support than atossa's girlish strength could give. the egyptian girl was carried insensible into the queen-mother's apartments. when she opened her eyes, her head-more like a marble piece of sculpture than a living head--was resting on the blind queen's lap, she felt atossa's warm kisses on her forehead, and cambyses, who had obeyed his mother's call, was standing at her side. she gazed on this circle, including all she loved best, with anxious, perplexed looks, and at last, recognizing them one by one, passed her hand across her pale fore head as if to remove a veil, smiled at each, and closed her eyes once more. she fancied isis had sent her a beautiful vision, and wished to hold it fast with all the powers of her mind. then atossa called her by her name, impetuously and lovingly. she opened her eyes again, and again she saw those loving looks that she fancied had only been sent her in a dream. yes, that was her own atossa--this her motherly friend, and there stood, not the angry king, but the man she loved. and now his lips opened too, his stern, severe eyes rested on her so beseechingly, and he said: "o nitetis, awake! you must not--you cannot possibly be guilty!" she moved her head gently with a look of cheerful denial and a happy smile stole across her features, like a breeze of early spring over fresh young roses. "she is innocent! by mithras, it is impossible that she can be guilty," cried the king again, and forgetful of the presence of others, he sank on his knees. a persian physician came up and rubbed her forehead with a sweet-scented oil, and nebenchari approached, muttering spells, felt her pulse, shook his head, and administered a potion from his portable medicine-chest. this restored her to perfect consciousness; she raised herself with difficulty into a sitting posture, returned the loving caresses of her two friends, and then turning to cambyses, asked: "how could you believe such a thing of me, my king?" there was no reproach in her tone, but deep sadness, and cambyses answered softly, "forgive me." kassandane's blind eyes expressed her gratitude for this selfrenunciation on the part of her son, and she said: "my daughter, i need your forgiveness too." "but i never once doubted you," cried atossa, proudly and joyfully kissing her friend's lips. "your letter to bartja shook my faith in your innocence," added kassandane. "and yet it was all so simple and natural," answered nitetis. "here, my mother, take this letter from egypt. croesus will translate it for you. it will explain all. perhaps i was imprudent. ask your mother to tell you what you would wish to know, my king. pray do not scorn my poor, ill sister. when an egyptian girl once loves, she cannot forget. but i feel so frightened. the end must be near. the last hours have been so very, very terrible. that horrible man, boges, read me the fearful sentence of death, and it was that which forced the poison into my hand. ah, my heart!" and with these words she fell back into the arms of kassandane. nebenchari rushed forward, and gave her some more drops, exclaiming: "i thought so! she has taken poison and her life cannot be saved, though this antidote may possibly prolong it for a few days." cambyses stood by, pale and rigid, following the physician's slightest movements, and atossa bathed her friend's forehead with her tears. "let some milk be brought," cried nebenchari, "and my large medicinechest; and let attendants be called to carry her away, for quiet is necessary, above all things." atossa hastened into the adjoining room; and cambyses said to the physician, but without looking into his face: "is there no hope?" "the poison which she has taken results in certain death." on hearing this the king pushed nebenchari away from the sick girl, exclaiming: "she shall live. it is my will. here, eunuch! summon all the physicians in babylon--assemble the priests and alobeds! she is not to die; do you hear? she must live, i am the king, and i command it." nitetis opened her eyes as if endeavoring to obey her lord. her face was turned towards the window, and the bird of paradise with the gold chain on its foot, was still there, perched on the cypress-tree. her eyes fell first on her lover, who had sunk down at her side and was pressing his burning lips to her right hand. she murmured with a smile: "o, this great happiness!" then she saw the bird, and pointed to it with tier left hand, crying: "look, look, there is the phoenix, the bird of ra!" after saying this she closed her eyes and was soon seized by a violent attack of fever. chapter vii. prexaspes, the king's messenger, and one of the highest officials at court, had brought gaumata, mandane's lover, whose likeness to bartja was really most wonderful, to babylon, sick and wounded as he was. he was now awaiting his sentence in a dungeon, while boges, the man who had led him into crime, was nowhere to be found, notwithstanding all the efforts of the police. his escape had been rendered possible by the trap-door in the hanging-gardens, and greatly assisted by the enormous crowds assembled in the streets. immense treasures were found in his house. chests of gold and jewels, which his position had enabled him to obtain with great ease, were restored to the royal treasury. cambyses, however, would gladly have given ten times as much treasure to secure possession of the traitor. to phaedime's despair the king ordered all the inhabitants of the harem, except his mother, atossa and the dying nitetis, to be removed to susa, two days after the accused had been declared innocent. several eunuchs of rank were deposed from their offices. the entire caste was to suffer for the sins of him who had escaped punishment. oropastes, who had already entered on his duties as regent of the kingdom, and had clearly proved his non-participation in the crime of which his brother had been proved guilty, bestowed the vacant places exclusively on the magi. the demonstration made by the people in favor of bartja did not come to the king's ears until the crowd had long dispersed. still, occupied as he was, almost entirely, by his anxiety for nitetis, he caused exact information of this illegal manifestation to be furnished him, and ordered the ringleaders to be severely punished. he fancied it was a proof that bartja had been trying to gain favor with the people, and cambyses would perhaps have shown his displeasure by some open act, if a better impulse had not told him that he, not bartja, was the brother who stood in need of forgiveness. in spite of this, however, he could not get rid of the feeling that bartja, had been, though innocent, the cause of the sad events which had just happened, nor of his wish to get him out of the way as far as might be; and he therefore gave a ready consent to his brother's wish to start at once for naukratis. bartja took a tender farewell of his mother and sister, and started two days after his liberation. he was accompanied by gyges, zopyrus, and a numerous retinue charged with splendid presents from cambyses for sappho. darius remained behind, kept back by his love for atossa. the day too was not far distant, when, by his father's wish, he was to marry artystone, the daughter of gobryas. bartja parted from his friend with a heavy heart, advising him to be very prudent with regard to atossa. the secret had been confided to kassandane, and she had promised to take darius' part with the king. if any one might venture to raise his eyes to the daughter of cyrus, assuredly it was the son of hystaspes; he was closely connected by marriage with the royal family, belonged like cambyses to the pasargadae, and his family was a younger branch of the reigning dynasty. his father called himself the highest noble in the realm, and as such, governed the province of persia proper, the mother-country, to which this enormous world-empire and its ruler owed their origin. should the family of cyrus become extinct, the descendants of hystaspes would have a well-grounded right to the persian throne. darius therefore, apart from his personal advantages, was a fitting claimant for atossa's hand. and yet no one dared to ask the king's consent. in the gloomy state of mind into which he had been brought by the late events, it was likely that he might refuse it, and such an answer would have to be regarded as irrevocable. so bartja was obliged to leave persia in anxiety about the future of these two who were very dear to him. croesus promised to act as mediator in this case also, and before bartja left, made him acquainted with phanes. the youth had heard such a pleasant account of the athenian from sappho, that he met him with great cordiality, and soon won the fancy of the older and more experienced man, who gave him many a useful hint, and a letter to theopompus, the milesian, at naukratis. phanes concluded by asking for a private interview. bartja returned to his friends looking grave and thoughtful; soon, however, he forgot his cause of anxiety and joked merrily with them over a farewell cup. before he mounted his horse the next morning, nebenchari asked to be allowed an audience. he was admitted, and begged bartja to take the charge of a large written roll for king amasis. it contained a detailed account of nitetis' sufferings, ending with these words: "thus the unhappy victim of your ambitious plans will end her life in a few hours by poison, to the use of which she was driven by despair. the arbitrary caprices of the mighty can efface all happiness from the life of a human creature, just as we wipe a picture from the tablet with a sponge. your servant nebenchari is pining in a foreign land, deprived of home and property, and the wretched daughter of a king of egypt dies a miserable and lingering death by her own hand. her body will be torn to pieces by dogs and vultures, after the manner of the persians. woe unto them who rob the innocent of happiness here and of rest beyond the grave!" bartja had not been told the contents of this letter, but promised to take it with him; he then, amid the joyful shouts of the people, set up outside the city-gate the stones which, according to a persian superstition, were to secure him a prosperous journey, and left babylon. nebenchari, meanwhile, prepared to return to his post by nitetis' dyingbed. just as he reached the brazen gates between the harem-gardens and the courts of the large palace, an old man in white robes came up to him. the sight seemed to fill nebenchari with terror; he started as if the gaunt old man had been a ghost. seeing, however, a friendly and familiar smile on the face of the other, he quickened his steps, and, holding out his hand with a heartiness for which none of his persian acquaintances would have given him credit, exclaimed in egyptian: "can i believe my eyes? you in persia, old hib? i should as soon have expected the sky to fall as to have the pleasure of seeing you on the euphrates. but now, in the name of osiris, tell me what can have induced you, you old ibis, to leave your warm nest on the nile and set out on such a long journey eastward." while nebenchari was speaking, the old man listened in a bowing posture, with his arms hanging down by his side, and when he had finished, looked up into his face with indescribable joy, touched his breast with trembling fingers, and then, falling on the right knee, laying one hand on his heart and raising the other to heaven, cried: "thanks be unto thee, great isis, for protecting the wanderer and permitting him to see his master once more in health and safety. ah, child, how anxious i have been! i expected to find you as wasted and thin as a convict from the quarries; i thought you would have been grieving and unhappy, and here you are as well, and handsome and portly as ever. if poor old hib had been in your place he would have been dead long ago." "yes, i don't doubt that, old fellow. i did not leave home of my own will either, nor without many a heartache. these foreigners are all the children of seth. the good and gracious gods are only to be found in egypt on the shores of the sacred, blessed nile." "i don't know much about its being so blessed," muttered the old man. "you frighten me, father hib. what has happened then?" "happened! things have come to a pretty pass there, and you'll hear of it soon enough. do you think i should have left house and grandchildren at my age,--going on for eighty,--like any greek or phoenician vagabond, and come out among these godless foreigners (the gods blast and destroy them!), if i could possibly have staid on in egypt?" "but tell me what it's all about." "some other time, some other time. now you must take me to your own house, and i won't stir out of it as long as we are in this land of typhon." the old man said this with so much emphasis, that nebenchiari could not help smiling and saying: "have they treated you so very badly then, old man?" "pestilence and khamsin!" blustered the old man. [the south-west wind, which does so much injury to the crops in the nile valley. it is known to us as the simoom, the wind so perilous to travellers in the desert.] "there's not a more good-for-nothing typhon's brood on the face of the earth than these persians. i only wonder they're not all red-haired and leprous. ah, child, two whole days i have been in this hell already, and all that time i was obliged to live among these blasphemers. they said no one could see you; you were never allowed to leave nitetis' sick-bed. poor child! i always said this marriage with a foreigner would come to no good, and it serves amasis right if his children give him trouble. his conduct to you alone deserves that." "for shame, old man!" "nonsense, one must speak one's mind sometimes. i hate a king, who comes from nobody knows where. why, when he was a poor boy he used to steal your father's nuts, and wrench the name-plates off the house-doors. i saw he was a good-for-nothing fellow then. it's a shame that such people should be allowed to..." "gently, gently, old man. we are not all made of the same stuff, and if there was such a little difference between you and amasis as boys, it, is your own fault that, now you are old men, he has outstripped you so far. "my father and grandfather were both servants in the temple, and of course i followed in their footsteps." "quite right; it is the law of caste, and by that rule, amasis ought never to have become anything higher than a poor army-captain at most." "it is not every one who's got such an easy conscience as this upstart fellow." "there you are again! for shame, hib! as long as i can remember, and that is nearly half a century, every other word with you has been an abusive one. when i was a child your ill-temper was vented on me, and now the king has the benefit of it." "serves him right! all, if you only knew all! it's now seven months since . . ." "i can't stop to listen to you now. at the rising of the seven stars i will send a slave to take you to my rooms. till then you must stay in your present lodging, for i must go to my patient." "you must?--very well,--then go and leave poor old hib here to die. i can't possibly live another hour among these creatures." "what would you have me do then?" "let me live with you as long as we are in persia." "have they treated you so very roughly?" "i should think they had indeed. it is loathsome to think of. they forced me to eat out of the same pot with them and cut my bread with the same knife. an infamous persian, who had lived many years in egypt, and travelled here with us, had given them a list of all the things and actions, which we consider unclean. they took away my knife when i was going to shave myself. a good-for-nothing wench kissed me on the forehead, before i could prevent it. there, you needn't laugh; it will be a month at least before i can get purified from all these pollutions. i took an emetic, and when that at last began to take effect, they all mocked and sneered at me. but that was not all. a cursed cook-boy nearly beat a sacred kitten to death before my very eyes. then an ointment-mixer, who had heard that i was your servant, made that godless bubares ask me whether i could cure diseases of the eye too. i said yes, because you know in sixty years it's rather hard if one can't pick up something from one's master. bubares was interpreter between us, and the shameful fellow told him to say that he was very much disturbed about a dreadful disease in his eyes. i asked what it was, and received for answer that he could not tell one thing from another in the dark!" "you should have told him that the best remedy for that was to light a candle." "oh, i hate the rascals! another hour among them will be the death of me!" "i am sure you behaved oddly enough among these foreigners," said nebenchiari smiling, "you must have made them laugh at you, for the persians are generally very polite, well-behaved people. try them again, only once. i shall be very glad to take you in this evening, but i can't possibly do it before." "it is as i thought! he's altered too, like everybody else! osiris is dead and seth rules the world again." "farewell! when the seven stars rise, our old ethiopian slave, nebununf, will wait for you here." "nebununf, that old rogue? i never want to see him again." "yes, the very same." "him--well it's a good thing, when people stay as they were. to be sure i know some people who can't say so much of themselves, and who instead of minding their own business, pretend to heal inward diseases, and when a faithful old servant . . ." "hold your tongue, and wait patiently till evening." these last words were spoken seriously, and produced the desired impression. the old man made another obeisance, and before his master left him, said: "i came here under the protection of phanes, the former commander of the greek mercenaries. he wishes very much to speak with you." "that is his concern. he can come to me." "you never leave that sick girl, whose eyes are as sound as . . ." "hib!" "for all i care she may have a cataract in both. may phanes come to you this evening?" "i wished to be alone with you." "so did i; but the greek seems to be in a great hurry, and he knows nearly everything that i have to tell you." "have you been gossiping then?" "no--not exactly--but . . ." "i always thought you were a man to be trusted." "so i was. but this greek knows already a great deal of what i know, and the rest . . ." "well?" "the rest he got out of me, i hardly know how myself. if i did not wear this amulet against an evil eye, i should have been obliged . . ." "yes, yes, i know the athenian--i can forgive you. i should like him to come with you this evening. but i see the sun is already high in the heavens. i have no time to lose. tell me in a few words what has happened." "i thought this evening . . ." "no, i must have at least a general idea of what has happened before i see the athenian. be brief." "you have been robbed!" "is that all?" "is not that enough?" "answer me. is that all?" "yes!" "then farewell." "but nebenchari!" the physician did not even hear this exclamation; the gates of the harem had already closed behind him. when the pleiades had risen, nebenchari was to be found seated alone in one of the magnificent rooms assigned to his use on the eastern side of the palace, near to kassandane's apartments. the friendly manner in which he had welcomed his old servant had given place to the serious expression which his face usually wore, and which had led the cheerful persians to call him a morose and gloomy man. nebenchari was an egyptian priest through and through; a member of that caste which never indulged in a jest, and never for a moment forgot to be dignified and solemn before the public; but when among their relations and their colleagues completely threw off this self-imposed restraint, and gave way at times even to exuberant mirth. though he had known phanes in sais, he received him with cold politeness, and, after the first greeting was ended, told hib to leave them alone. "i have come to you," said the athenian, "to speak about some very important affairs." "with which i am already acquainted," was the egyptian's curt reply. "i am inclined to doubt that," said phanes with an incredulous smile. "you have been driven out of egypt, persecuted and insulted by psamtik, and you have come to persia to enlist cambyses as an instrument of revenge against my country." "you are mistaken. i have nothing against your country, but all the more against amasis and his house. in egypt the state and the king are one, as you very well know." "on the contrary, my own observations have led me to think that the priests considered themselves one with the state." "in that case you are better informed than i, who have always looked on the kings of egypt as absolute. so they are; but only in proportion as they know how to emancipate themselves from the influence of your caste. --amasis himself submits to the priests now." "strange intelligence!" "with which, however, you have already long been made acquainted." "is that your opinion?" "certainly it is. and i know with still greater certainty that once--you hear me--once, he succeeded in bending the will of these rulers of his to his own." "i very seldom hear news from home, and do not understand what you are speaking of." "there i believe you, for if you knew what i meant and could stand there quietly without clenching your fist, you would be no better than a dog who only whimpers when he's kicked and licks the hand that torments him." the physician turned pale. "i know that amasis has injured and insulted me," he said, "but at the same time i must tell you that revenge is far too sweet a morsel to be shared with a stranger." "well said! as to my own revenge, however, i can only compare it to a vineyard where the grapes are so plentiful, that i am not able to gather them all myself." "and you have come hither to hire good laborers." "quite right, and i do not even yet give up the hope of securing you to take a share in my vintage." "you are mistaken. my work is already done. the gods themselves have taken it in hand. amasis has been severely enough punished for banishing me from country, friends and pupils into this unclean land." "you mean by his blindness perhaps?" "possibly." "then you have not heard that petammon, one of your colleagues, has succeeded in cutting the skin, which covered the pupil of the eye and so restoring amasis' sight?" the egyptian started and ground his teeth; recovered his presence of mind, however, in a moment, and answered: "then the gods have punished the father through the children." "in what way? psamtik suits his father's present mood very well. it is true that tachot is ill, but she prays and sacrifices with her father all the more for that; and as to nitetis, you and i both know that her death will not touch him very closely." "i really do not understand you." "of course not, so long as you fancy that i believe your beautiful patient to be amasis' daughter." the egyptian started again, but phanes went on without appearing to notice his emotion: "i know more than you suppose. nitetis is the daughter of hophra, amasis' dethroned predecessor. amasis brought her up as his own child-first, in order to make the egyptians believe that hophra had died childless; secondly, in order to deprive her of her rights to the throne; for you know women are allowed to govern on the nile." "these are mere suppositions." "for which, however, i can bring irrefragable proofs. among the papers which your old servant hib brought with him in a small box, there must be some letters from a certain sonnophre, a celebrated accoucheur, your own father, which . . ." [to judge from the pictures on the monuments and from the 1st chap. of exodus, it would seem that in ancient, as in modern egypt, midwives were usually called in to assist at the birth of children; but it is also certain, that in difficult cases physicians were employed also. in the hieratic medical papyrus in berlin, women are often spoken of as assisting at such times. in the medical papyrus ebers certain portions are devoted to diseases peculiar to women. "there were special rooms set aside in private houses for the birth of children, as symbolical ones were reserved in the temples. these chambers were called meschen, and from them was derived the name given to midwives, to meschennu.] "if that be the case, those letters are my property, and i have not the slightest intention of giving them up; besides which you might search persia from one end to the other without finding any one who could decipher my father's writing." "pardon me, if i point out one or two errors into which you have fallen. first, this box is at present in my hands, and though i am generally accustomed to respect the rights of property, i must assure you that, in the present instance, i shall not return the box until its contents have served my purpose. secondly, the gods have so ordained, that just at this moment there is a man in babylon who can read every kind of writing known to the egyptian priests. do you perhaps happen to know the name of onuphis?" for the third time the egyptian turned pale. "are you certain," he said, "that this man is still among the living?" "i spoke to him myself yesterday. he was formerly, you know, high-priest at heliopolis, and was initiated into all your mysteries there. my wise countryman, pythagoras of samos, came to egypt, and after submitting to some of your ceremonies, was allowed to attend the lessons given in the schools for priests. his remarkable talents won the love of the great onuphis and he taught him all the egyptian mysteries, which pythagoras afterwards turned to account for the benefit of mankind. my delightful friend rhodopis and i are proud of having been his pupils. when the rest of your caste heard that onuphis had betrayed the sacred mysteries, the ecclesiastical judges determined on his death. this was to be caused by a poison extracted from peach-kernels. the condemned man, however, heard of their machinations, and fled to naukratis, where he found a safe asylum in the house of rhodopis, whom he had heard highly praised by pythagoras, and whose dwelling was rendered inviolable by the king's letter. here he met antimenidas the brother of the poet alcarus of lesbos, who, having been banished by pittakus, the wise ruler of mitylene, had gone to babylon, and there taken service in the army of nebuchadnezzar, the king of assyria. antimenidas gave him letters to the chaldians. onuphis travelled to the euphrates, settled there, and was obliged to seek for some means of earning his daily bread, as he had left egypt a poor man. he is now supporting himself in his old age, by the assistance which his superior knowledge enables him to render the chaldoeans in their astronomical observations from the tower of bel. onuphis is nearly eighty, but his mind is as clear as ever, and when i saw him yesterday and asked him to help me, his eyes brightened as he promised to do so. your father was one of his judges, but he bears you no malice and sends you a greeting." nebenchari's eyes were fixed thoughtfully on the ground during this tale. when phanes had finished, he gave him a penetrating look and said: "where are my papers?" they are in onuphis' hands. he is looking among them for the document i want." "i expected to hear that. be so good as to tell me what the box is like, which hib thought proper to bring over to persia?" "it is a small ebony trunk, with an exquisitely-carved lid. in the centre is a winged beetle, and on the four corners . . ." "that contains nothing but a few of my father's notices and memorandums," said nebenchari, drawing a deep breath of relief. "they will very likely be sufficient for my purpose. i do not know whether you have heard, that i stand as high as possible in cambyses' favor." "so much the better for you. i can assure you, however, that the paper. which would have been most useful to you have all been left behind in egypt." "they were in a large chest made of sycamore-wood and painted in colors." "how do you know that?" "because--now listen well to what i am going to say, nebenchari--because i can tell you (i do not swear, for our great master pythagoras forbade oaths), that this very chest, with all it contained, was burnt in the grove of the temple of neith, in sais, by order of the king " phanes spoke slowly, emphasizing every syllable, and the words seemed to strike the egyptian like so many flashes of lightning. his quiet coolness and deliberation gave way to violent emotion; his cheeks glowed and his eyes flashed. but only for one single minute; then the strong emotion seemed to freeze, his burning cheeks grew pale. "you are trying to make me hate my friends, in order to gain me as your ally," he said, coldly and calmly. "i know you greeks very well. you are so intriguing and artful, that there is no lie, no fraud, too base, if it will only help to gain your purpose." "you judge me and my countrymen in true egyptian fashion; that is, they are foreigners, and therefore must be bad men. but this time your suspicions happen to be misplaced. send for old hib; he will tell you whether i am right or not." nebenchari's face darkened, as hib came into the room. "come nearer," said he in a commanding tone to the old man. hib obeyed with a shrug of the shoulders. "tell me, have you taken a bribe from this man? yes or no? i must know the truth; it can influence my future for good or evil. you are an old and faithful servant, to whom i owe a great deal, and so i will forgive you if you were taken in by his artifices, but i must know the truth. i conjure you to tell me by the souls of your fathers gone to osiris!" the old man's sallow face turned ashy pale as he heard these words. he gulped and wheezed some time before he could find an answer, and at last, after choking down the tears which had forced their way to his eyes, said, in a half-angry, half-whining tone: "didn't i say so? they've bewitched him, they've ruined him in this wicked land. whatever a man would do himself, he thinks others are capable of. aye, you may look as angry as you like; it matters but little to me. what can it matter indeed to an old man, who has served the same family faithfully and honestly for sixty years, if they call him at last a rogue, a knave, a traitor, nay even a murderer, if it should take their fancy." and the scalding tears flowed down over the old man's cheeks, sorely against his will. the easily-moved phanes clapped him on the shoulder and said, turning to nebenchari: "hib is a faithful fellow. i give you leave to call me a rascal, if he has taken one single obolus from me." the physician did not need phanes' assurance; he had known his old servant too well and too long not to be able to read his simple, open features, on which his innocence was written as clearly as in the pages of an open book. "i did not mean to reproach you, old hib," he said kindly, coming up to him. "how can any one be so angry at a simple question?" "perhaps you expect me to be pleased at such a shameful suspicion?" "no, not that; but at all events now you can tell me what has happened at our house since i left." "a pretty story that is! why only to think of it makes my mouth as bitter, as if i were chewing wormwood." "you said i had been robbed." "yes indeed: no one was ever so robbed before. there would have been some comfort if the knaves had belonged to the thieves' caste, for then we should have got the best part of our property back again, and should not after all have been worse off than many another; but when . . ." [the cunning son of the architect, who robbed the treasure-house of rhampsinitus was, according to herodotus, (ii. 120), severely punished; but in diod. i. 80. we see that when thieves acknowledged themselves to the authorities to be such, they were not punished, though a strict watch was set over them. according to diodorus, there was a president of the thieves' caste, from whom the stolen goods could be reclaimed on relinquishment of a fourth part of the same. this strange rule possibly owed its rise to the law, which compelled every egyptian to appear once in each year before the authorities of his district and give an account of his means of subsistence. those who made false statements were punished with death. diod. i. 77. thus no one who valued his life could escape the watchful eye of the police, and the thief sacrificed the best part of his gains in order to save his life.] "keep to the point, for my time is limited." "you need not tell me that; i see old hib can't do anything right here in persia. well, be it so, you're master; you must give orders; i am only the servant, i must obey. i won't forget it. well, as i was saying, it was just at the time when the great persian embassy came over to sais to fetch nitetis, and made everybody stare at them as if they were monsters or prodigies, that this shameful thing happened. i was sitting on the mosquito-tower just as the sun was setting, playing with my little grandson, my baner's eldest boy--he's a fine strapping little lad now, wonderfully sharp and strong for his age. the rogue was just telling me how his father, the egyptians do that when their wives leave the children too much alone--had hidden his mother's shoes, and i was laughing heartily, because my baner won't let any of the little ones live with me, she always says i spoil them, and so i was glad she should have the trick played her--when all of a sudden there was such a loud knocking at the house-door, that i thought there must be a fire and let the child drop off my lap. down the stairs i ran, three steps at a time, as fast as my long legs would carry me, and unbarred the door. before i had time to ask them what they wanted, a whole crowd of temple-servants and policemen--there must have been at least fifteen of them--forced their way into the house. pichi,--you know, that impudent fellow from the temple of neith,--pushed me back, barred the door inside and told the police to put me in fetters if i refused to obey him. of course i got angry and did not use very civil words to them--you know that's my way when i'm put out--and what does that bit of a fellow do--by our god thoth, the protector of knowledge who must know all, i'm speaking the truth--but order them to bind my hands, forbid me--me, old hib--to speak, and then tell me that he had been told by the high-priest to order me five-and-twenty strokes, if i refused to do his bidding. he showed me the high-priest's ring, and so i knew there was nothing for it but to obey the villain, whether i would or no. and what was his modest demand? why, nothing less than to give him all the written papers you had left behind. but old hib is not quite so stupid as to let himself be caught in that way, though some people, who ought to know better, do fancy he can be bribed and is no better than the son of an ass. what did i do then? i pretended to be quite crushed into submission by the sight of the signet-ring, begged pichi as politely as i could to unfasten my hands, and told him i would fetch the keys. they loosened the cords, i flew up the stairs five steps at a time, burst open the door of your sleeping-room, pushed my little grandson, who was standing by it, into the room and barred it within. thanks to my long legs, the others were so far behind that i had time to get hold of the black box which you had told me to take so much care of, put it into the child's arms, lift him through the window on to the balcony which runs round the house towards the inner court, and tell him to put it at once into the pigeon-house. then i opened the door as if nothing had happened, told pichi the child had had a knife in his mouth, and that that was the reason i had run upstairs in such a hurry, and had put him out on the balcony to punish him. that brother of a hippopotamus was easily taken in, and then he made me show him over the house. first they found the great sycamorechest which you had told me to take great care of too, then the papyrusrolls on your writing-table, and so by degrees every written paper in the house. they made no distinction, but put all together into the great chest and carried it downstairs; the little black box, however, lay safe enough in the pigeon-house. my grandchild is the sharpest boy in all sais! "when i saw them really carrying the chest downstairs, all the anger i'd been trying so hard to keep down burst out again. i told the impudent fellows i would accuse them before the magistrates, nay, even before the king if necessary, and if those confounded persians, who were having the city shown them, had not come up just then and made everybody stare at them, i could have roused the crowd to take my side. the same evening i went to my son-in-law-he is employed in the temple of neith too, you know,--and begged him to make every effort to find out what had become of the papers. the good fellow has never forgotten the handsome dowry you gave my baner when he married her, and in three days he came and told me he had seen your beautiful chest and all the rolls it contained burnt to ashes. i was so angry that i fell ill of the jaundice, but that did not hinder me from sending in a written accusation to the magistrates. the wretches,--i suppose only because they were priests too,--refused to take any notice of me or my complaint. then i sent in a petition to the king, and was turned away there too with the shameful threat, that i should be considered guilty of high treason if i mentioned the papers again. i valued my tongue too much to take any further steps, but the ground burnt under my feet; i could not stay in egypt, i wanted to see you, tell you what they had done to you, and call on you, who are more powerful than your poor servant, to revenge yourself. and besides, i wanted to see the black box safe in your hands, lest they should take that from me too. and so, old man as i am, with a sad heart i left my home and my grandchildren to go forth into this foreign typhon's land. ah, the little lad was too sharp! as i was kissing him, he said: 'stay with us, grandfather. if the foreigners make you unclean, they won't let me kiss you any more.' baner sends you a hearty greeting, and my son-in-law told me to say he had found out that psamtik, the crown-prince, and your rival, petammon, had been the sole causes of this execrable deed. i could not make up my mind to trust myself on that typhon's sea, so i travelled with an arabian trading caravan as far as tadmor,--[palmyra]-the phoenician palm-tree station in the wilderness," and then on to carchemish, on the euphrates, with merchants from sidon. the roads from sardis and from phoenicia meet there, and, as i was sitting very weary in the little wood before the station, a traveller arrived with the royal post-horses, and i saw at once that it was the former commander of the greek mercenaries." "and i," interrupted phanes, "recognized just as soon in you, the longest and most quarrelsome old fellow that had ever come across my path. oh, how often i've laughed to see you scolding the children, as they ran after you in the street whenever you appeared behind your master with the medicine-chest. the minute i saw you too i remembered a joke which the king once made in his own way, as you were both passing by. 'the old man,' he said, reminds me of a fierce old owl followed by a flight of small teazing birds, and nebenchari looks as if he had a scolding wife, who will some day or other reward him for healing other people's eyes by scratching out his own!'" "shameful!" said the old man, and burst into a flood of execrations. nebenchari had been listening to his servant's tale in silence and thought. he had changed color from time to time and on hearing that the papers which had cost him so many nights of hard work had been burnt, his fists clenched and he shivered as if seized by biting frost. not one of his movements escaped the athenian. he understood human nature; he knew that a jest is often much harder to bear than a grave affront, and therefore seized this opportunity to repeat the inconsiderate joke which amasis had, it is true, allowed himself to make in one of his merry moods. phanes had calculated rightly, and had the pleasure of seeing, that as he uttered the last words nebenchari pressed his hand on a rose which lay on the table before him, and crushed it to pieces. the greek suppressed a smile of satisfaction, and did not even raise his eyes from the ground, but continued speaking: "well, now we must bring the travelling adventures of good old hib to a close. i invited him to share my carriage. at first he refused to sit on the same cushion with such a godless foreigner, as i am, gave in, however, at last, had a good opportunity at the last station of showing the world how many clever processes of manipulation he had learnt from you and your father, in his treatment of oropastes' wounded brother; he reached babylon at last safe and sound, and there, as we could not get sight of you, owing to the melancholy poisoning of your country-woman, i succeeded in obtaining him a lodging in the royal palace itself. the rest you knew already." nebenchari bowed assent and gave hib a sign to leave the room, which the old man obeyed, grumbling and scolding in a low tone as he departed. when the door had closed on him, nebenchari, the man whose calling was to heal, drew nearer to the soldier phanes, and said: "i am afraid we cannot be allies after all, greek." "why not?" "because i fear, that your revenge will prove far too mild when compared with that which i feel bound to inflict." "on that head there is no need for solicitude," answered the athenian. "may i call you my ally then?" "yes," answered the other; "but only on one condition." "and that is--?" "that you will procure me an opportunity of seeing our vengeance with my own eyes." "that is as much as to say you are willing to accompany cambyses' army to egypt?" "certainly i am; and when i see my enemies pining in disgrace and misery i will cry unto them, 'ah ha, ye cowards, the poor despised and exiled physician, nebenchari, has brought this wretchedness upon you!' oh, my books, my books! they made up to me for my lost wife and child. hundreds were to have learnt from them how to deliver the blind from the dark night in which he lives, and to preserve to the seeing the sweetest gift of the gods, the greatest beauty of the human countenance, the receptacle of light, the seeing eye. now that my books are burnt i have lived in vain; the wretches have burnt me in burning my works. o my books, my books!" and he sobbed aloud in his agony. phanes came up and took his band, saying: "the egyptians have struck you, my friend, but me they have maltreated and abused--thieves have broken into your granaries, but my hearth and home have been burnt to ashes by incendiaries. do you know, man, what i have had to suffer at their hands? in persecuting me, and driving me out of egypt, they only did what they had a right to do; by their law i was a condemned man; and i could have forgiven all they did to me personally, for i loved amasis, as a man loves his friend. the wretch knew that, and yet he suffered them to commit a monstrous, an incredible act--an act that a man's brain refuses to take in. they stole like wolves by night into a helpless woman's house--they seized my children, a girl and boy, the pride, the joy and comfort of my homeless, wandering life. and how think you, did they treat them? the girl they kept in confinement, on the pretext that by so doing they should prevent me from betraying egypt to cambyses. but the boy--my beautiful, gentle boy--my only son--has been murdered by psamtik's orders, and possibly with the knowledge of amasis. my heart was withered and shrunk with exile and sorrow, but i feel that it expands--it beats more joyfully now that there is a hope of vengeance." nebenchari's sullen but burning glance met the flashing eye of the athenian as he finished his tale; he gave him his hand and said: "we are allies." the greek clasped the offered hand and answered: "our first point now is to make sure of the king's favor." "i will restore kassandane's sight." "is that in your power?" "the operation which removed amasis' blindness was my own discovery. petammon stole it from my burnt papers." "why did you not exert your skill earlier?" "because i am not accustomed to bestow presents on my enemies." phanes shuddered slightly at these words, recovered himself, however, in a moment, and said: "and i am certain of the king's favor too. the massagetan envoys have gone home to-day; peace has been granted them and..." while he was speaking the door was burst open and one of kassandane's eunuchs rushed into the room crying: "the princess nitetis is dying! follow me at once, there is not a moment to lose." the physician made a parting sign to his confederate, and followed the eunuch to the dying-bed of the royal bride. etext editor's bookmarks: blessings go as quickly as they come hast thou a wounded heart? touch it seldom nothing is perfectly certain in this world only two remedies for heart-sickness:--hope and patience remember, a lie and your death are one and the same scarcely be able to use so large a sum--then abuse it whatever a man would do himself, he thinks others are capable of when love has once taken firm hold of a man in riper years this ebook was produced by david widger <widger@cecomet.net> [note: there is a short list of bookmarks, or pointers, at the end of the file for those who may wish to sample the author's ideas before making an entire meal of them. d.w.] cleopatra by georg ebers volume 4. chapter ix. gorgias went to his work without delay. when the twin statues were only waiting to be erected in front of the theatre of dionysus, dion sought him. some impulse urged him to talk to his old friend before leaving the city with his betrothed bride. since they parted the latter had accomplished the impossible; for the building of the wall on the choma, ordered by antony, was commenced, the restoration of the little palace at the point, and many other things connected with the decoration of the triumphal arches, were arranged. his able and alert foreman found it difficult to follow him as he dictated order after order in his writingtablet. the conversation with his friend was not a long one, for dion had promised barine and her mother to accompany them to the country. notwithstanding the betrothal, they were to start that very day; for caesarion had called upon barine twice that morning. she had not received him, but the unfortunate youth's conduct induced her to hasten the preparations for her departure. to avoid attracting attention, they were to use archibius's large travelling chariot and nile boat, although dion's were no less comfortable. the marriage was to take place in the "abode of peace." the young alexandrian's own ship, which was to convey the newly wedded pair to alexandria, bore the name of peitho, the goddess of persuasion, for dion liked to be reminded of his oratorical powers in the council. henceforward it would be called the barine, and was to receive many an embellishment. dion confided to his friend what he had learned in relation to the fate of the queen and the fleet, and, notwithstanding the urgency of the claims upon gorgias's time, he lingered to discuss the future destiny of the city and her threatened liberty; for these things lay nearest to his heart. "fortunately," cried dion, "i followed my inclination; now it seems to me that duty commands every true man to make his own house a nursery for the cultivation of the sentiments which he inherited from his forefathers and which must not die, so long as there are macedonian citizens in alexandria. we must submit if the superior might of rome renders egypt a province of the republic, but we can preserve to our city and her council the lion's share of their freedom. whatever may be the development of affairs, we are and shall remain the source whence rome draws the largest share of the knowledge which enriches her brain." "and the art which adorns her rude life," replied gorgias. "if she is free to crush us without pity, she will fare, i think, like the maiden who raises her foot to trample on a beautiful, rare flower, and then withdraws it because it would be a crime to destroy so exquisite a work of the creator." "and what does the flower owe to your maiden," cried dion, "or our city to rome? let us meet her claims with dignified resolution, then i think we shall not have the worst evils to fear." "let us hope so. but, my friend, keep your eyes open for other than roman foes. now that it will become known that you do not love her, beware of iras. there is something about her which reminds me of the jackal. jealousy!--i believe she would be capable of the worst--" "yet," dion interrupted, "charmian will soften whatever injury iras plans to do me, and, though i cannot rely much upon my uncle, archibius is above both and favours us and our marriage." gorgias uttered a sigh of relief, and exclaimed, "then on to happiness!" "and you must also begin to provide for yours," replied dion warmly. "forbid your heart to continue this wandering, nomad life. the tent which the wind blows down is not fit for the architect's permanent residence. build yourself a fine house, which will defy storms, as you built my palace. i shall not grudge it, and have already said, the times demand it." "i will remember the advice," replied gorgias. "but six eyes are again bent upon me for direction. there are so many important things to be done while we waste the hours in building triumphal arches for the defeated--trophies for an overthrow. but your uncle has just issued orders to complete the work in the most magnificent style. the ways of destiny and the great are dark; may the brightest sunshine illumine yours! a prosperous journey! we shall hear, of course, when you celebrate the wedding, and if i can i shall join you in the hymenaeus. lucky fellow that you are! now i'm summoned from over yonder! may castor and pollux, and all the gods favourable to travel, aphrodite, and all the loves attend your trip to irenia, and protect you in the realm of eros and hymen!" with these words the warm-hearted man clasped his friend to his breast for the first time. dion cordially responded, and at last shook his hard right hand with the exclamation: "farewell, then, till we meet in irenia on the wedding day, you dear, faithful fellow." then he entered the chariot which stood waiting, and gorgias gazed after him thoughtfully. the hyacinthine purple cloak which dion wore that day had not vanished from his sight when a loud crashing, rattling, and roaring arose behind him. a hastily erected scaffold, which was to support the pulleys for raising the statues, had collapsed. the damage could be easily repaired, but the accident aroused a troubled feeling in the architect's mind. he was a child of his time, a period when duty commanded the prudent man to heed omens. experience also taught him that when such a thing happened in his work something unpleasant was apt to occur within the circle of his friends. the veil of the future concealed what might be in store for the beloved couple; but he resolved to keep his eyes open on dion's behalf and to request archibius to do the same. the pressure of work, however, soon silenced the sense of uneasiness. the damage was speedily repaired, and later gorgias, sometimes with one, sometimes with another tablet or roll of ms. in his hand, issued the most varied orders. gradually the light of this dismal day faded. ere the night, which threatened to bring rain and storm, closed in, he again rode on his mule to the bruchium to overlook the progress of the work in the various buildings and give additional directions, for the labour was to be continued during the night. the north wind was now blowing so violently from the sea that it was difficult to keep the torches and lamps lighted. the gale drove the drops of rain into his face, and a glance northward showed him masses of black clouds beyond the harbour and the lighthouse. this indicated a bad night, and again the boding sense of coming misfortune stole over him. yet he set to work swiftly and prudently, helping with his own hands when occasion required. night closed in. not a star was visible in the sky, and the air, chilled by the north wind, grew so cold that gorgias at last permitted his body slave to wrap his cloak around him. while drawing the hood over his head, he gazed at a procession of litters and men moving towards lochias. perhaps the queen's children were returning home from some expedition. but probably they were rather private citizens on their way to some festival celebrating the victory; for every one now believed in a great battle and a successful issue of the war. this was proved by the shouts and cheers of the people, who, spite of the storm, were still moving to and fro near the harbour. the last of the torch-bearers had just passed gorgias, and he had told himself that a train of litters belonging to the royal family would not move through the darkness so faintly lighted, when a single man, bearing in his hand a lantern, whose flickering rays shone on his wrinkled face, approached rapidly from the opposite direction. it was old phryx, didymus's house slave, with whom the architect had become acquainted, while the aged scholar was composing the inscription for the odeum which gorgias had erected. the aged servant had brought him many alterations of his master's first sketch, and gorgias had reminded him of it the previous day. the workmen by whom the statues had been raised to the pedestal, amid the bright glare of torches, to the accompaniment of a regular chant, had just dropped the ropes, windlasses, and levers, when the architect recognized the slave. what did the old man want at so late an hour on this dark night? the fall of the scaffold again returned to his mind. was the slave seeking for a member of the family? did helena need assistance? he stopped the gray-haired man, who answered his question with a heavy sigh, followed by the maxim, "misfortunes come in pairs, like oxen." then he continued: "yesterday there was great anxiety. today, when there was so much rejoicing on account of barine, i thought directly, 'sorrow follows joy, and the second misfortune won't be spared us.' and so it proved." gorgias anxiously begged him to relate what had happened, and the old man, drawing nearer, whispered that the pupil and assistant of didymus-young philotas of amphissa, a student, and, moreover, a courteous young man of excellent family--had gone to a banquet to which antyllus, the son of antony, had invited several of his classmates. this had already happened several times, and he, phryx, had warned him, for, when the lowly associate with the lofty, the lowly rarely escape kicks and blows. the young fellow, who usually had behaved no worse than the other ephebi, had always returned from such festivities with a flushed face and unsteady steps, but to-night he had not even reached his room in the upper story. he had darted into the house as though pursued by the watch, and, while trying to rush up the stairs--it was really only a ladder-he had made a misstep and fell. he, phryx, did not believe that he was hurt, for none of his limbs ached, even when they were pulled and stretched, and dionysus kindly protected drunkards; but some demon must have taken possession of him, for he howled and groaned continually, and would answer no questions. true, he was aware, from the festivals of dionysus, that the young man was one of those who, when intoxicated, weep and lament; but this time something unusual must have occurred, for in the first place his handsome face was coloured black and looked hideous, since his tears had washed away the soot in many places, and then he talked nothing but a confused jargon. it was a pity. when an attempt was made, with the help of the garden slave, to carry him to his room, he dealt blows and kicks like a lunatic. didymus now also believed that he was possessed by demons, as often happens to those who, in falling, strike their heads against the ground, and thus wake the demons in the earth. well, yes, they might be demons, but only those of wine. the student was just "crazy drunk," as people say. but the old gentleman was very fond of his pupil, and had ordered him, pliryx, to go to olympus, who, ever since he could remember, had been the family physician. "the queen's leech?" asked gorgias, disapprovingly, and when the slave assented, the architect exclaimed in a positive tone: "it is not right to force the old man out of doors in such a north wind. age is not specially considerate to age. now that the statues stand yonder, i can leave my post for half an hour and will go with you. i don't think a leech is needed to drive out these demons." "true, my lord, true!" cried the slave, "but olympus is our friend. he visits few patients, but he will come to our house in any weather. he has litters, chariots, and splendid mules. the queen gives him whatever is best and most comfortable. he is skilful, and perhaps can render speedy help. people must use what they have." "only where it is necessary," replied the architect. "there are my two mules; follow me on the second. if i don't drive out the demons, you will have plenty of time to trot after olympus." this proposal pleased the old slave, and a short time after gorgias entered the venerable philosopher's tablinum. helena welcomed him like an intimate friend. whenever he appeared she thought the peril was half over. didymus, too, greeted him warmly, and conducted him to the little room where the youth possessed by demons lay on a divan. he was still groaning and whimpering. tears were streaming down his cheeks, and, whenever any member of the household approached, he pushed him away. when gorgias held his hands and sternly ordered him to confess what wrong he had done, he sobbed out that he was the most ungrateful wretch on earth. his baseness would ruin his kind parents, himself, and all his friends. then he accused himself of having caused the destruction of didymus's granddaughter. he would not have gone to antyllus again had not his recent generosity bound him to him, but now he must atone-ay, atone. then, as if completely crushed, he continued to mumble the word, "atone!" and for a time nothing more could be won from him. didymus, however, had the key to the last sentence. a few weeks before, philotas and several other pupils of the rhetorician whose lectures in the museum he attended had been invited to breakfast with antyllus. when the young student loudly admired the beautiful gold and silver beakers in which the wine was served, the reckless host cried: "they are yours; take them with you." when the guests departed the cup-bearer asked philotas, who had been far from taking the gift seriously, to receive his property. antyllus had intended to bestow the goblets; but he advised the youth to let him pay their value in money, for among them were several ancient pieces of most artistic workmanship, which antony, the extravagant young fellow's father, might perhaps be unwilling to lose. thereupon several rolls of gold solidi were paid to the astonished student--and they had been of little real benefit, since they had made it possible for him to keep pace with his wealthy and aristocratic classmates and share many of their extravagances. yet he had not ceased to fulfil his duty to didymus. though he sometimes turned night into day, he gave no serious cause for reproof. small youthful errors were willingly pardoned; for he was a good-looking, merry young fellow, who knew how to make himself agreeable to the entire household, even to the women. what had befallen the poor youth that day? didymus was filled with compassion for him, and, though he gladly welcomed gorgias, he gave him to understand that the leech's absence vexed him. but, during a long bachelor career in alexandria, a city ever gracious to the gifts of bacchus, gorgias had become familiar with attacks like those of philotas and their treatment, and after several jars of water had been brought and he had been left alone a short time with the sufferer, the philosopher secretly rejoiced that he had not summoned the grey-haired leech into the stormy night for gorgias led forth his pupil with dripping hair, it is true, but in a state of rapid convalescence. the youth's handsome face was freed from soot, but his eyes were bent in confusion on the ground, and he sometimes pressed his hand upon his aching brow. it needed all the old philosopher's skill in persuasion to induce him to speak, and philotas, before he began, begged helena to leave the room. he intended to adhere strictly to the truth, though he feared that the reckless deed into which he had suffered himself to be drawn might have a fatal effect upon his future life. besides, he hoped to obtain wise counsel from the architect, to whom he owed his speedy recovery, and whose grave, kindly manner inspired him with confidence; and, moreover, he was so greatly indebted to didymus that duty required him to make a frank confession--yet he dared not acknowledge one of the principal motives of his foolish act. the plot into which he had been led was directed against barine, whom he had long imagined he loved with all the fervour of his twenty years. but, just before he went to the fatal banquet, he had heard that the young beauty was betrothed to dion. this had wounded him deeply; for in many a quiet hour it had seemed possible to win her for himself and lead her as his wife to his home in amphissa. he was very little younger than she, and if his parents once saw her, they could not fail to approve his choice. and the people in amphissa! they would have gazed at barine as if she were a goddess. and now this fine gentleman had come to crush his fairest hopes. no word of love had ever been exchanged between him and barine, but how kindly she had always looked at him, how willingly she had accepted trivial services! now she was lost. at first this had merely saddened him, but after he had drunk the wine, and antyllus, antony's son, in the presence of the revellers, over whom caesarion presided as "symposiarch"-[director of a banquet.]--had accused barine of capturing hearts by magic spells, he had arrived at the conviction that he, too, had been shamefully allured and betrayed. he had served for a toy, he said to himself, unless she had really loved him and merely preferred dion on account of his wealth. in any case, he felt justified in cherishing resentment against barine, and with the number of goblets which he drained his jealous rage increased. when urged to join in the escapade which now burdened his conscience he consented with a burning brain in order to punish her for the wrong which, in his heated imagination, she had done him. all this he withheld from the older men and merely briefly described the splendid banquet which caesarion, pallid and listless as ever, had directed, and antyllus especially had enlivened with the most reckless mirth. the "king of kings" and antony's son had escaped from their tutors on the pretext of a hunting excursion, and the chief huntsman had not grudged them the pleasure--only they were obliged to promise him that they would be ready to set out for the desert early the next morning. when, after the banquet, the mixing-vessels were brought out and the beakers were filled more rapidly, antyllus whispered several times to caesarion and then turned the conversation upon barine, the fairest of the fair, destined by the immortals for the greatest and highest of mankind. this was the "king of kings," caesarion, and he also claimed the favour of the gods for himself. but everybody knew that aphrodite deemed herself greater than the highest of kings, and therefore barine ventured to close her doors upon their august symposiarch in a manner which could not fail to be unendurable, not only to him but to all the youth of alexandria. whoever boasted of being one of the ephebi might well clench his fist with indignation, when he heard that the insolent beauty kept young men at a distance because she considered only the older ones worthy of her notice. this must not be! the ephebi of alexandria must make her feel the power of youth. this was the more urgently demanded, because caesarion would thereby be led to the goal of his wishes. barine was going into the country that very evening. insulted eros himself was smoothing their way. he commanded them to attack the arrogant fair one's carriage and lead her to him who sought her in the name of youth, in order to show her that the hearts of the ephebi, whom she disdainfully rejected, glowed more ardently than those of the older men on whom she bestowed her favours. here gorgias interrupted the speaker with a loud cry of indignation, but old didymus's eyes seemed to be fairly starting from their sockets as he hoarsely shouted an impatient: "go on!" and philotas, now completely sobered, described with increasing animation the wonderful change that had taken place in the quiet caesarion, as if some magic spell had been at work; for scarcely had the revellers greeted antyllus's words with shouts of joy, declaring themselves ready to avenge insulted youth upon barine, than the "king of kings" suddenly sprang from the cushions on which he had listlessly reclined, and with flashing eyes shouted that whoever called himself his friend must aid him in the attack. here he was urged to still greater haste by another impatient "go on!" from his master, and hurriedly continued his story, describing how they had blackened their faces and armed themselves with antyllus's swords and lances. as the sun was setting they went in a covered boat through the agathodamon canal to lake mareotis. everything must have been arranged in advance; for they landed precisely at the right hour. as, during the trip, they had kept up their courage by swallowing the most fiery wine, philotas had staggered on shore with difficulty and then been dragged forward by the others. after this he knew nothing more, except that he had rushed with the rest upon a large harmamaxa,--[a closed asiatic travelling-carriage with four wheels]--and in so doing fell. when he rose from the earth all was over. as if in a dream he saw scythians and other guardians of the peace seize antyllus, while caesarion was struggling on the ground with another man. if he was not mistaken it was dion, barine's betrothed husband. these communications were interrupted by many exclamations of impatience and wrath; but now didymus, fairly frantic with alarm, cried: "and the child--barine?" but when philotas's sole reply to this question was a silent shake of the head, indignation conquered the old philosopher, and clutching his pupil's chiton with both hands, he shook him violently, exclaiming furiously: "you don't know, scoundrel? instead of defending her who should be dear to you as a child of this household, you joined the rascally scorners of morality and law as the accomplice of this waylayer in purple!" here the architect soothed the enraged old man with expostulations, and the assertion that everything must now yield to the necessity of searching for barine and dion. he did not know which way to turn, in the amount of labour pressing upon him, but he would have a hasty talk with the foreman and then try to find his friend. "and i," cried the old man, "must go at once to the unfortunate child.-my cloak, phryx, my sandals!" in spite of gorgias's counsel to remember his age and the inclement weather, he cried angrily: "i am going, i say! if the tempest hurls me to the earth, and the bolts of zeus strike me, so be it. one misfortune more or less matters little in a life which has been a chain of heavy blows of fate. i buried three sons in the prime of manhood, and two have been slain in battle. barine, the joy of my heart, i myself, fool that i was, bound to the scoundrel who blasted her joyous existence; and now that i believed she would be protected from trouble and misconstruction by the side of a worthy husband, these infamous rascals, whose birth protects them from vengeance, have wounded, perhaps killed her betrothed lover. they trample in the dust her fair name and my white hair!--phryx, my hat and staff." the storm had long been raging around the house, which stood close by the sea, and the sailcloth awning which was stretched over the impluvium noisily rattled the metal rings that confined it. now so violent a gust swept from room to room that two of the flames in the three-branched lamp went out. the door of the house had been opened, and drenched with rain, a hood drawn over his black head, barine's nubian doorkeeper crossed the threshold. he presented a pitiable spectacle and at first could find no answer to the greetings and questions of the men, who had been joined by helena, her grandmother leaning on her arm; his rapid walk against the fury of the storm had fairly taken away his breath. he had little, however, to tell. barine merely sent a message to her relatives that, no matter what tales rumour might bring, she and her mother were unhurt. dion had received a wound in the shoulder, but it was not serious. her grandparents need have no anxiety; the attack had completely failed. doris, who was deaf, had listened vainly, holding her hand to her ear, to catch this report; and didymus now told his granddaughter as much as he deemed it advisable for her to know, that she might communicate it to her grandmother, who understood the movements of her lips. the old man was rejoiced to learn that his granddaughter had escaped so great a peril uninjured, yet he was still burdened by sore anxiety. the architect, too, feared the worst, but by dint of assuring him that he would return at once with full details when he had ascertained the fate of dion and his betrothed bride, he finally persuaded the old man to give up the night walk through the tempest. philotas, with tears in his eyes, begged them to accept his services as messenger or for any other purpose; but didymus ordered him to go to bed. an opportunity would be found to enable him to atone for the offence so recklessly committed. the scholar's peaceful home was deprived of its nocturnal repose, and when gorgias had gone and didymus had refused helena's request to have the aged porter take her to her sister, the old man remained alone with his wife in the tablinum. she had been told nothing except that thieves had attacked her granddaughter, barine, and slightly wounded her lover; but her own heart and the manner of the husband, at whose side she had grown grey, showed that many things were being concealed. she longed to know the story more fully, but it was difficult for didymus to talk a long time in a loud tone, so she silenced her desire to learn the whole truth. but, in order to await the architect's report, they did not go to rest. didymus had sunk into an armchair, and doris sat near at her spindle, but without drawing any threads from her distaff. when she heard her husband sigh and saw him bury his face in his hands, she limped nearer to him, difficult as it was for her to move, and stroked his head, now nearly bald, with her hand. then she uttered soothing words, and, as the anxious, troubled expression did not yet pass from his wrinkled face, she reminded him in faltering yet tender tones how often they had thought they must despair, and yet everything had resulted well. "ah! husband," she added, "i know full well that the clouds hanging over us are very black, and i cannot even see them clearly, because you show them at such a distance. yet i feel that they threaten us with sore tribulation. but, after all, what harm can they do us, if we only keep close together, we two old people and the children of the children whom hades rent from us? we need only to grow old to perceive that life has a head with many faces. the ugly one of to-day can last no longer than you can keep that deeply furrowed brow. but you need not coerce yourself for my sake, husband. let it be so. i need merely close my eyes to see how smooth and beautiful it was in youth, and how pleasant it will look when better days say, 'here we are!'" didymus, with a mournful smile, kissed her grey hair and shouted into her left ear, which was a little less deaf than the other: "how young you are still, wife!" chapter x. the tempest swept howling from the north across the island of pharos, and the shallows of diabathra in the great harbour of alexandria. the water, usually so placid, rose in high waves, and the beacon on the lighthouse of sastratus sent the rent abundance of its flames with hostile impetuosity towards the city. the fires in the pitch-pans and the torches on the shore sometimes seemed on the point of being extinguished, at others burst with a doubly brilliant blaze through the smoke which obscured them. the royal harbour, a fine basin which surrounded in the form of a semicircle the southern part of the lochias and a portion of the northern shore of the bruchium, was brightly illuminated every night; but this evening there seemed to be an unusual movement among the lights on its western shore, the private anchorage of the royal fleet. was it the storm that stirred them? no. how could the wind have set one torch in the place of another, and moved lights or lanterns in a direction opposite to its violent course? only a few persons, however, perceived this; for, though joyous anticipation or anxious fears urged many thither, who would venture upon the quay on such a tempestuous night? besides, no one would have found admittance to the royal port, which was closed on all sides. even the mole which, towards the west, served as the string to the bow of land surrounding it, had but a single opening and--as every one knew--that was closed by a chain in the same way as the main entrance to the harbour between the pharos and alveus steganus. about two hours before midnight, spite of the increasing fury of the tempest, the singular movement of the lights diminished, but rarely had the hearts of those for whom they burned throbbed so anxiously. these were the dignitaries and court officials who stood nearest to cleopatra --about twenty men and a single woman, iras. mardion and she had summoned them because the queen's letter permitted those to whom she had given authority to offer her a quiet reception. after a long consultation they had not invited the commanders of the little roman garrison left behind. it was doubtful whether those whom they expected would return that night, and the roman soldiers who were loyal to antony had gone with him to the war. the hall in the centre of the private roadstead of the royal harbour, where they had assembled, was furnished with regal magnificence; for it was a favourite resort of the queen. the spacious apartment lacked no requisite of comfort, and most of those who were waiting used the wellcushioned couches, while others, harassed by mental anxiety, paced to and fro. as the room had remained unused for months, bats had made nests there, and now that it was lighted, dazzled by the glare of the lamps and candles, they darted to and fro above the heads of the assembly. iras had ordered the commander of the mellakes, or youths, a body-guard composed of the sons of aristocratic macedonian families, to expel the troublesome creatures, and it diverted the thoughts of these devoted soldiers of the queen to strike at them with their swords. others preferred to watch this futile battle rather than give themselves up to the anxiety which filled their minds. the regent was gazing mutely at the ground; iras, pale and absent-minded, was listening to zeno's statements; and archibius had gone out of doors, and, unheeding the storm, was looking across the tossing waves of the harbour for the expected ships. in a wooden shed, whose roof was supported by gaily painted pillars, through which the wind whistled, the servants, from the porters to the litter-bearers, had gathered in groups under the flickering light of the lanterns. the greeks sat on wooden stools, the egyptians upon mats on the floor. the largest circle contained the parties who attended to the queen's luggage and the upper servants, among whom were several maids. they had been told that the queen was expected that night, because it was possible that the strong north wind would bear her ship home with unexpected speed after the victory. but they were better informed: palaces have chinks in doors and curtains, and are pervaded by a very peculiar echo which bears even a whisper distinctly from ear to ear. the body-slave of the commander-in-chief seleukus was the principal spokesman. his master had reached alexandria but a few hours ago from the frontier fortress of pelusium, which he commanded. a mysterious order from lucilius, antony's most faithful friend, brought from taenarum by a swift galley, had summoned him hither. the freedman beryllus, a loquacious sicilian, who, as an actor, had seen better days ere pirates robbed him of his liberty, had heard many new things, and his hearers listened eagerly; for ships coming from the north, which touched at pelusium, had confirmed and completed the evil tidings that had penetrated the sebasteum. according to his story, he was as well informed as if he had been an eyewitness of the naval battle; for he had been present during his master's conversation with many ship-captains and messengers from greece. he even assumed the air of a loyal, strictly silent servant, who would only venture to confirm and deny what the alexandrians had already learned. yet his knowledge consisted merely of a confused medley of false and true occurrences. while the egyptian fleet had been defeated at actium, and antony, flying with cleopatra, had gone first to taenarum at the end of the peloponnesian coast, he asserted that the army and fleet had met on the peloponnesian coast and octavianus was pursuing antony, who had turned towards athens, while cleopatra was on her way to alexandria. his "trustworthy intelligence" had been patched together from a few words caught from seleukus at table, or while receiving and dismissing messengers. in other matters his information was more accurate. while for several days the harbour of alexandria had been closed, vessels were permitted to enter pelusium, and all captains of newly arrived ships and caravans were compelled to report to beryllus's master, the commandant of the important frontier fortress. he had quitted pelusium the night before. the strong wind had driven the trireme before it so swiftly that it was difficult for even the sea gulls to follow. it was easy for the listeners to believe this; for the storm outside howled louder and louder, whistling through the open hall where the servants had gathered. most of the lamps and torches had been blown out, the pitch-pans only sent forth still blacker clouds of smoke, lit by red and yellow flames, and the closed lanterns alone continued to diffuse a flickering light. so the wide space, dim with smoke, was illumined only by a dull, varying glimmer. one of the porters had furnished wine to shorten the hours of waiting; but it could only be drunk in secret, so there were no goblets. the jars wandered from mouth to mouth, and every sip was welcome, for the wind blew keenly, and besides, the smoke irritated their throats. the freedman, beryllus, was often interrupted by paroxysms of coughing, especially from the women, while relating the evil omens which were told to his master in pelusium. each was well authenticated and surpassed its predecessor in significance. here one of iras's maids interrupted him to tell the story of the swallows on the "antonius," cleopatra's admiral galley. he could scarcely report from pelusium an omen of darker presage. but beryllus gazed at her with a pitying smile, which so roused the expectations of the others that the overseer of the litter and baggage porters, who were talking loudly together, hoarsely shouted, "silence!" soon no sound was heard in the open space save the shrill whistling of the wind, a word of command to the harbour-guards, and the freedman's voice, which he lowered to increase the charm of the mysterious events he was describing. he began with the most fulsome praise of cleopatra and antony, reminding his hearers that the imperator was a descendant of herakles. the alexandrians especially were aware that their queen and antony claimed and desired to be called "the new isis" and "the new dionysus." but every one who beheld the roman must admit that in face and figure he resembled a god far more than a man. the imperator had appeared as dionysus, especially to the athenians. in the proscenium of the theatre in that city was a huge bas-relief of the battle of the giants, the famous work of an ancient sculptor--he, beryllus, had seen it--and from amid the numerous figures in this piece of sculpture the tempest had torn but a single one--which? dionysus, the god as whose mortal image antony had once caroused in a vine-clad arbour in the presence of the athenians. the storm to-night was at the utmost like the breath of a child, compared with the hurricane which could wrest from the hard marble the form of dionysus. but nature gathers all her forces when she desires to announce to short-sighted mortals the approach of events which are to shake the world. the last words were quoted from his master who had studied in athens. they had escaped from his burdened soul when he heard of another portent, of which a ship from ostia had brought tidings. the flourishing city pisaura-here, however, he was interrupted, for several of those present had learned, weeks before, that this place had sunk in the sea, but merely pitied the unfortunate inhabitants. beryllus quietly permitted them to free themselves from the suspicion that people in alexandria had had tidings of so remarkable an event later than those in pelusium, and at first answered their query what this had to do with the war merely by a shrug of the shoulders; but when the overseer of the porters also put the question, he went on "the omen made a specially deep impression upon our minds, for we know what pisaura is, or rather how it came into existence. the hapless city which dark hades ingulfed really belonged to antony, for in the days of its prosperity he was its founder." he measured the group with a defiant glance, and there was no lack of evidences of horror; nay, one of the maid-servants shrieked aloud, for the storm had just snatched a torch from the iron rings in the wall and hurled it on the floor close beside the listener. suspense seemed to have reached its height. yet it was evident that beryllus had not yet drawn his last arrow from the quiver. the maid-servant, whose scream had startled the others, had regained her composure and seemed eager to hear some other new and terrible omen, for, with a beseeching glance, she begged the freedman not to withhold the knew. he pointed to the drops of perspiration which, spite of the wind sweeping through the hall, covered her brow: "you must use your handkerchief. merely listening to my tale will dampen your skin. stone statues are made of harder material, but a soul dwells within them too. their natures may be harsher or more gentle; they bring us woe or heal heavy sorrows, according to their mood. every one learns this who raises his hands to them in prayer. one of these statues stands in alba. it represents mark antony, in whose honour it was erected by the city. and it foresaw what menaced the man whose stone double it is. ay, open your ears! about four days ago a ship's captain came to my master and in my presence this man reported--he grew as pale as ashes while he spoke--what he himself had witnessed. drops of perspiration had oozed from the statue of antony in alba. horror seized all the citizens; men and women came to wipe the brow and cheeks of the statue, but the drops of perspiration did not cease to drip, and this continued several days and nights. the stone image had felt what was impending over the living mark antony. it was a horrible spectacle, the man said." here the speaker paused, and the group of listeners started, for the clang of a gong was heard outside, and the next instant all were on their feet hastening to their posts. the officials in the magnificent hall had also risen. here the silence had been interrupted only by low whispers. the colour had faded from most of the grave, anxious faces, and their timid glances shunned one another. archibius had first perceived, by the flames of the pharos, the red glimmer which announced the approach of the royal galley. it had not been expected so early, but was already passing the islands into the great harbour. it was probably the antonius, the ship on which the old swallows had pecked the young ones to death. though the waves were running high, even in the sheltered harbour, they scarcely rocked the massive vessel. an experienced pilot must have steered it past the shallows and cliffs on the eastern side of the roadstead, for instead of passing around the island of antirrhodus as usual, it kept between the island and the lochias, steering straight towards the entrance into the little royal harbour. the pitch-pans on both sides had been filled with fresh resin and tow to light the way. the watchers on the shore could now see its outlines distinctly. it was the antonius, and yet it was not. zeno, the keeper of the seal, who was standing beside iras, wrapped his cloak closer around his shivering limbs, pointed to it, and whispered, "like a woman who leaves her parents' house in the rich array of a bride, and returns to it an impoverished widow." iras drew herself up, and with cutting harshness replied, "like the sun veiled by mists, but which will soon shine forth again more radiantly than ever." "spoken from the depths of my soul," said the old courtier eagerly, "so far as the queen is concerned. of course, i did not allude to her majesty, but to the ship. you were ill when it left the harbour, garlanded with flowers and adorned with purple sails. and now! even this flickering light shows the wounds and rents. i am the last person whom you need tell that our sun cleopatra will soon regain its old radiance, but at present it is very chilly and cold here by the water's edge in this stormy air; and when i think of our first moment of meeting-"would it were over!" murmured iras, wrapping herself closer in her cloak. then she drew back shivering, for the rattle of the heavy chain, which was drawn aside from the opening of the harbour, echoed with an uncanny sound through the silence of the night. a mountain seemed to weigh upon the watchers' breasts, for the wooden monster which now entered the little harbour moved forward as slowly and silently as a spectral ship. it seemed as if life were extinct on the huge galley usually swarming with a numerous crew; as if a vessel were about to cast anchor whose sailors had fallen victims to the plague. nothing was heard save an occasional word of command, and the signal whistles of the fluteplayer who directed the rowers. a few lanterns burned with a wavering light on the vast length of her decks. the brilliant illumination which usually shone through the darkness would have attracted the attention of the alexandrians. now it was close to the landing. the group on shore watched every inch of its majestic progress with breathless suspense, but when the first rope was flung to the slaves on shore several men in greek robes pressed forward hurriedly among the courtiers. they had come with a message, whose importance would permit no delay, to the regent mardion, who stood between zeno and iras, gazing gloomily at the ground with a frowning brow. he was pondering over the words in which to address the queen, and within a few minutes the ship would have made her landing, and cleopatra might cross the bridge. to disturb him at that moment was an undertaking few who knew the irritable, uncertain temper of the eunuch would care to risk. but the tall macedonian, who for a short time attracted the eyes of most of the spectators from the galley, ventured to do so. it was the captain of the nightwatch, the aristocratic commander of the police force of the city. "only a word, my lord," he whispered to the regent, "though the time may be inopportune." "as inopportune as possible," replied the eunuch with repellent harshness. "we will say as inopportune as the degree of haste necessary for its decision. the king caesarion, with antyllus and several companions, attacked a woman. blackened faces. a fight. caesarion and the woman's companion--an aristocrat, member of the council--slightly wounded. lictors interfered just in time. the young gentlemen were arrested. at first they refused to give their names--" "caesarion slightly, really only slightly wounded?" asked the eunuch with eager haste. "really and positively. olympus was summoned at once. a knock on the head. the man who was attacked flung him on the pavement in the struggle." "dion, the son of eumenes, is the man," interrupted iras, whose quick ear had caught the officer's report. "the woman is barine, the daughter of the artist leonax." "then you know already?" asked the macedonian in surprise. "so it seems," answered mardion, gazing into the girl's face with a significant glance. then, turning to her rather than to the macedonian, he added, "i think we will have the young rascals set free and brought to lochias with as little publicity as possible." "to the palace?" asked the macedonian. "of course," replied iras firmly. "each to his own apartments, where they must remain until further orders." "everything else must be deferred until after the reception," added the eunuch, and the macedonian, with a slight, haughty nod, drew back. "another misfortune," sighed the eunuch. "a boyish prank," iras answered quickly, "but even a still greater misfortune is less than nothing so long as we are not conscious of it. this unpleasant occurrence must be concealed for the present from the queen. up to this time it is a vexation, nothing more--and it can and must remain so; for we have it in our power to uproot the poisonous tree whence it emanates." "you look as if no one could better perform the task," the regent interrupted, with a side glance at the galley, "so you shall have the commission. it is the last one i shall give, during the queen's absence, in her name." "i shall not fail," she answered firmly. when iras again looked towards the landing-place she saw archibius standing alone, with his eyes fixed upon the ground. impulse prompted her to tell her uncle what had happened; but at the first step she paused, and her thin lips uttered a firm "no." her friend had become a stone in her path. if necessary, she would find means to thrust him also aside, spite of his sister charmian and the old tie which united him to cleopatra. he had grown weak, charmian had always been so. she would have had time enough now to consider what step to take first, had not her heart ached so sorely. after the huge galley lay moored, several minutes elapsed ere two pastophori of the goddess isis, who guarded the goblet of nektanebus, taken from the temple treasures and borne along in a painted chest, stepped upon the bridge, followed by cleopatra's first chamberlain, who in a low tone announced the approach of the queen and commanded the waiting groups to make way. a double line of torch-bearers had been stationed from the landing to the gate leading into the bruchium, and the other on the north, which was the entrance to the palaces on the lochias, since it was not known where cleopatra would desire to go. the chamberlain, however, said that she would spend the night at lochias, where the children lived, and ordered all the flickering, smoking torches, save a few, to be extinguished. mardion, the keeper of the seal, archibius, and iras were standing by the bridge a little in advance of the others, when voices were heard on the ship, and the queen appeared, preceded by several lantern-bearers and followed by a numerous train of court officials, pages, maids, and female slaves. cleopatra's little hand rested on charmian's arm, as, with a haughty carriage of the head, she moved towards the shore. a thick veil covered her face, and a large, dark cloak concealed her figure. how elastic her step was still! how proud yet graceful was the gesture with which she waved a greeting to mardion and zeno. extending her hand to raise iras, who had sunk prostrate before her, she kissed her on the forehead, whispering, "the children?" "all is well with them," replied the girl. then the returning sovereign greeted the others with a gracious gesture, but vouchsafed a word to no one until the eunuch stepped before her to deliver his address of welcome. she motioned him aside with a curt "later"; and when zeno held open the door of the litter, she said in a stifled tone: "i will walk. after the rocking of the galley in this tempest, i feel reluctant to enter the litter. there are many things to be considered to-day. an idea carne to me on the way home. summon the captain of the harbour and his chief counsellors, the heads of the war office, the superintendent of the fortifications on land and water, especially the aristarch and gorgias--i want to see them. time presses. they must be here in two hours-no, in an hour and a half. i wish to examine all their plans and charts of the eastern frontier, especially the river channels and canals in the delta." then she turned to archibius, who had approached the litter, laid her hand upon his arm, and though her veil prevented him from seeing her sparkling eyes, he felt them shining deep into his heart, as the voice whose melody had often enthralled his soul cried, "we will take it as a favourable omen that it is again you who lead me to this palace in a time of trouble." his overflowing heart found expression in the warm reply, "whenever it may be, forever and ever this arm and this life are yours!" and the queen answered in a tone of earnest belief, "i know it." then, with her hand still resting on his arm, she moved forward; but when he began to ask whether she really had cause to speak of a time of trouble, she cut him short with the entreaty "not now. let us say nothing. it is worse than bad--as evil as possible. yet no. few are permitted, in an hour of trouble, to lean on the arm of a faithful friend." the words were accompanied with a light pressure of her little hand, and it seemed as if his old heart was growing young. he dared not speak, for her wish was law; but while moving silently at her side, first along the shore, then through the gate, and finally over the marble flagstones which led to the palace portal, it seemed as if he beheld, instead of the veiled head of the hapless queen, the soft, lightbrown locks which floated around the face of a happy child. before his mental vision rose the little mistress of the garden of epicurus. he saw the sparkle of her large blue eyes, which never ceased to question, yet appeared to contain the mystery of the world. he fancied he heard once more the silvery cadence of her voice and the bewitching magic of her pure, childlike laughter, and it was hard to remember what she had become. snatched away from the present, yet conscious that fate had granted him a great boon in this sorrowful hour, he moved on at her side and led her through the main entrance, the spacious inner court-yard of the palace. at the rear was the great door opening into the queen's apartments, before which mardion, iras, and their companions had already stationed themselves. at the left was a smaller one leading into the wing occupied by the children. archibius was about to conduct cleopatra across the lighted court-yard, but she motioned towards the children's rooms, and he understood her. at the threshold her hand fell from his arm, and when he bowed as if to retire, she said kindly: "there is charmian. you both deserve to accompany me to the spot where childhood is dreaming and peace of mind and painlessness have their abode. but respect for the queen has prevented the brother and sister from greeting each other after so long a separation. do so now! then, follow me." while speaking, she hastened with the swift step of youth into the atrium and up the staircase which led to the sleeping-rooms of the princes and princesses. archibius and charmian obeyed her bidding; the brother clasped his sister affectionately in his arms, and in hurried tones, with tears streaming from her eyes, she informed him that to her all seemed lost. antony had behaved in a manner for which no words of condemnation or regret were adequate. probably he would follow cleopatra; the fleet, and perhaps the army also, were destroyed. her fate lay in the hands of octavianus. then she preceded him towards the staircase, where iras was standing with a tall syrian, who bore a striking resemblance to philostratus, barine's former husband. it was his brother alexas, the trusted favourite of mark antony. his place should now have been with him, and archibius asked his sister with a hasty look how this man chanced to be in the queen's train. "his skill in reading the stars," was the reply. "his flattering tongue. he is a parasite of the worst kind, but he tells her many things, he diverts her, and she tolerates him near her person." as soon as iras saw the direction in which cleopatra had turned, she had hastened after her to accompany her to the children. the syrian alexas had stopped her to express his joy in meeting her again. even before the outbreak of the war he had devoted himself zealously to her, and he now plainly showed that during the long period of separation his feelings had by no means cooled. like his brother, he had a head too small for his body, but his well-formed features were animated by a pair of eyes sparkling with a keen, covetous expression. iras, too, seemed glad to welcome the favourite, but ere the brother and sister reached the staircase she left him to embrace charmian, her aunt and companion, with the affection of a daughter. they found the queen in the anteroom of the children's apartments. euphronion, their tutor, had awaited her there, and hurriedly gave, in the most rapturous terms, his report of them and the wonderful gifts which became more and more apparent in each, now as a heritage from their mother, now from their father. cleopatra had interrupted the torrent of his enthusiastic speech with many a question, meanwhile endeavouring to loose the veil wound about her head; but the little hands, unaccustomed to the task, failed. iras noticed it from the stairs and, hastening up the last steps, skilfully released her from the long web of lace. the queen acknowledged the service by a gracious nod, but when the chief eunuch opened the door leading into the children's rooms, she called joyously to the brother and sister, "come!" the tutor, who was obliged to leave the charge of his pupils' sleeping apartments to the eunuchs and nurses, drew back, but iras felt it a bitter affront to be excluded from this visit. her cheeks flushed and paled; her thin lips were more firmly compressed, and she gazed intently at the basket of fruit in the mosaic floor at her feet as if she were counting the cherries that filled it. but she suddenly pushed the little curls back from her forehead, darted swiftly down the stairs, and called to alexas just as he was about to leave the atrium. the syrian hastened towards her, extolling the good fortune that made his sun rise for him a second time that night, but she cut him short with the words; "cease this foolish love-making. it would be far better for us both to become allies in serious, bitter earnest. i am ready." "so am i!" cried the syrian rapturously, pressing his hand upon his heart. meanwhile cleopatra had entered the chamber where the children lay sleeping. deep silence pervaded the lofty hall hung with bright-hued carpets, and softly lighted by three lamps with rose-colored globes. an arch, supported by pillars of libyan marble, divided the wide space. in the first, near a window closely muffled with draperies, stood two ivory beds, surmounted with crowns of gold and silver set with pearls and turquoises. around the edge, carved by the hands of a great artist, ran a line of happy children dancing to the songs of birds in blossoming bushes. the couches were separated by a heavy curtain which the eunuchs had raised at the approach of the queen. cleopatra could now see them all at a single glance, and the picture was indeed one of exquisite charm; for on these beautiful couches slept the twins, the ten-year-old children of cleopatra and antony--antonius helios and cleopatra selene. the girl was pink and white, fair and wonderfully lovely; the boy no less beautiful, but with ebon-black hair, like his father. both curly heads were turned towards the side, and rested on a dimpled hand pressed upon the silken pillow. upon a third bed, beyond the arch, was alexander, the youngest prince, a lovely boy of six, the queen's darling. after gazing a long while at the twins, and pressing a light kiss upon cheeks flushed with slumber, she turned to the youngest child and sank beside his couch as if forced to bend the knee before some apparition which heaven had vouchsafed to her. tears streamed from her eyes as, drawing the child carefully towards her, she kissed his mouth, eyes, and cheeks, and then laid him gently back upon the pillows. the boy, however, did not instantly relapse into slumber, but threw his little plump arms around his mother's neck, murmuring incomprehensible words. she joyously submitted to his caresses, till sleep again overpowered him, and his little hands fell back upon the bed. she lingered a short time longer, with her brow resting on the ivory of the couch, praying for this child and his brother and sister. when she rose again her cheeks were wet with tears, and she pressed her hand upon her breast. then, beckoning to charmian and archibius, she motioned towards alexander and the twins, saying, as she saw tears glittering in the eyes of both: "i know you have lost this happiness for my sake. for each one of these children a great empire would not be too high a price; for them all----what does earth contain that i would not bestow? yet what can i still call my own?" her smiling face clouded as she asked the question. the vision of the lost battle again rose before her mind. her own power was lost, forfeited, and with it the independence of the native land which she loved. rome was already stretching out her hand to add it to the others as a new province. but this should not be! her twin children yonder, sleeping beneath crowns, must wear them! and the boy slumbering on the pillows? how many kingdoms antony had bestowed! what remained for her to give? again she bent to the child. a beautiful dream must have hovered over him, for he was smiling in his sleep. a flood of maternal love welled up in her agitated heart, and, as she saw the companions of her childhood also gazing tenderly at the little steeper, she remembered the days of her own youth, and the quiet happiness which she had enjoyed in her garden of epicurus. power and splendour had begun for her beyond its confines, but the greater the heights of worldly grandeur she attained, the more distant, the more irrecoverable became the consciousness of the happiness which she had once gratefully enjoyed, and for which she had never ceased to long. and as she now gazed once more at the peaceful, smiling face, whence all pain and anxiety seemed worlds away, and all the love which her heart contained appeared to be pouring towards him, the question arose in her mind whether this boy, for whom she possessed no crown, might not be the only happy mortal of them all-happy in the sense of the master. deeply moved by this thought, she turned to archibius and charmian, exclaiming in a subdued tone, in order not to rouse the sleeper: "whatever destiny may await us, i commend this child to your special love and care. if fate denies him the lustre of the crown and the elation of power, teach him to enjoy that other happiness, which-how long ago it is!--your father unfolded to his mother." archibius kissed her robe, and charmian her hands; but cleopatra, drawing a long breath, said: "the mother has already taken too much time from the queen. i have ordered the news of my arrival to be kept from caesarion. this was well. the most important matters will be settled before our meeting. everything relating to me and to the state must be decided within an hour. but, first, i am something more than mother and queen. the woman also asserts her claim. i will find time for you, my friend, to-morrow!-to my chamber first, charmian. but you need rest still more than i. go with your brother. send iras to me. she will be glad to use her skilful fingers again in her mistress's service." chapter xi. the queen had left her bath. iras had arranged the still abundant waves of her hair, now dark-brown in hue, and robed her magnificently to receive the dignitaries whom, spite of the late hour of the night, she expected. how wonderfully she had retained her beauty! it seemed as if time had not ventured to touch this masterpiece of feminine loveliness; yet the greek's keen eye detected here and there some token of the vanishing spell of youth. she loved her mistress, yet her inmost soul rejoiced whenever she detected in her the same changes which began to appear in herself, the woman of seven-and-twenty, so many years her sovereign's junior. she would gladly have given cleopatra everything at her command, yet she felt as if she must praise nature for an act of justice, when she perceived that even her royal favourite was not wholly relieved from the law which applied to all. "cease your flattery," said cleopatra, smiling mournfully. "they say that the works of the pharaohs here on the nile flout time. the inexorable destroyer is less willing to permit this from the queen of egypt. these are grey hairs, and they came from this head, however eagerly you may deny it. whose save my own are these lines around the corners of the eyes and on the brow? what say you to the tooth which my lips do not hide so kindly as you assert? it was injured the night before the luckless battle. my dear, faithful, skilful olympus, the prince of leeches, is the only one who can conceal such things. but it would not do to take the old man to the war, and glaucus is far less adroit. how i missed olympus during those fatal hours! i seemed a monster even to myself, and he--antony's eye is only too keen for such matters. what is the love of men? a blackened tooth may prove its destruction. an aspect obnoxious to the gaze will pour water on the fiercest fire. what hours i experienced, iras! many a glance from him seemed an insult, and, besides, my heart was filled with torturing anxiety. "something had evidently come between us! i felt it. the trouble began soon after he left alexandria. it gnawed my soul like a worm, and now that i am here again i must see clearly. he will follow me in a few days, i know. pinarius scarpus, with his untouched legions, is in paraetonium, whither he went. at taenarum he resolved to retire from the world which he, on whom it had bestowed so much that is great, hates because he has given it cause for many a shake of the head. but the old spirit woke again, and if fortune, usually so faithful, still aids him, a large force will soon join the new african army. the asiatic princes-but the ruler of the state must be silent. i entered this room to give the woman her just rights, and the woman shall have them. he will soon be here. he cannot live without me. it is not alone the beaker of nektanebus which draws him after me!" "when the greatest of the great, julius caesar, sued for your love in alexandria, and antony on the cydnus, you did not possess the goblet," observed iras. "it is two years since anubis permitted you to borrow the masterpiece from the temple treasures, and within a few days you will be obliged to restore it. that a mysterious spell emanates from the cup is certain, but one still more powerful dwells in the magic of your own nature." "would that it might assert itself to-day!" cried the queen. "at any rate the power of the beaker impelled antony to do many things. i am not vain enough to believe that it was love, that it was solely the spell of my own personality which drew him to me in that disastrous hour. that battle, that incomprehensible, disgraceful battle! you were ill, and could not see our fleet when it set sail; but even experienced spectators said that handsomer, larger vessels were never beheld. i was right in insisting that the decision of the conflict should be left to them. i was entitled to call them mine. had we conquered, what a proud delight it would have been to say, 'the weapons which you gave to the man you loved gained him the sovereignty of the world!' besides, the stars had assured me that good fortune would attend us on the sea. they had given the same message to anubis here and to alexas upon antony's galley. i also trusted the spell of the goblet, which had already compelled antony to do many things he opposed. so i succeeded in having the decision of the conflict left to the fleet, but the prediction was false, false, false!--how utterly, was to be proved only too soon. "if i had only been told in time what i learned later! after the defeat people were more loquacious. that one remark of a veteran commander of the foot-soldiers would probably have sufficed to open my eyes. he had asked mark antony why he fixed his hopes on miserable wood, exclaiming, 'let the phoenician's and egyptians war on the water, but leave us the land where we are accustomed, with our feet firmly set upon the earth, to fight, conquer, or die!' this alone, i am sure, would have changed my resolve in a happy hour. but it was kept from me. "the conflict began. our troops had lost patience. the left wing of the fleet advanced. at first i watched the battle eagerly, with a throbbing heart. how proudly the huge galleys moved forward! everything was going admirably. antony had made an address, assuring the warriors that, even without soldiers, our ships would destroy the foe by their mere height and size. what orator can so carry his hearers with him! i, too, was still fearless. who cherishes anxiety when confidently expecting victory? when he went on board his own ship, after bidding me farewell far less cordially than usual, i became more troubled. i thought it was evident that his love was waning. what had i become since we left alexandria, and olympus no longer attended me! matters could not continue in this way. i would leave the direction of the war to him, and vanish from his eyes. after he had looked into the beaker of nektanebus, he yielded to my will, but often with indignation. the unconcealed, ineffaceable lines, and the years, the cruel years!" "what thoughts are these?" cried iras. "let me take oath, my sovereign mistress, that as you stand before me--" "thanks to this toilet-table and the new compounds of olympus in these boxes! at that time, i tell you, i was fairly startled at the sight of my own face. trouble does not enhance beauty, and what condemnation the romans had heaped on the woman who meddled with war, the craft of man! i had answers for them, but i would not endure it longer. i had previously determined to hold aloof from the battle on land; but even at the commencement of the conflict, spite of its favourable promise, i longed to leave antony and return to the children. they do not heed the colour of their mother's hair, nor her wrinkles; and he, when he had looked for and called me in vain, would feel for the first time what he possessed in me, would miss me, and with the longing the old love would awaken with fresh ardour. as soon as the fleet had gained the victory i would have the prow of my galley turned southward and, without a farewell, exclaiming only, 'we will meet in alexandria!' set sail for egypt. "i summoned alexas, who had remained with me, and ordered him to give me a signal as soon as the battle was decided in our favour. i remained on deck. then i saw the ships of the foe describing a wide circle. the nauarch told me that agrippa was trying to surround us. this roused a feeling of discomfort. i began to repent having meddled with men's work. "antony looked across at me from his galley. i waved my hand to point out the peril, but instead of eagerly and lovingly answering the greeting, as of yore, he turned his back, and in a short time after the wildest uproar arose around me. one ship became entangled with another, planks and poles shattered with a loud crash. shouts, the cries and moans of the combatants and the wounded, mingled with the thunder of the stones hurled by the catapults, and the sharp notes of the signals which sounded like calls for help. two soldiers, stricken by arrows, fell beside me. it was horrible! yet my courage remained steadfast, even when a squadron--it was commanded by aruntius--pressed upon the fleet. i saw another line of galleys steering directly towards us, and a roman vessel assailed by one of mine--i had named her the selene--turn on her side and sink. this pleased me and seemed like the first presage of victory. i again ordered alexas to have the ship's prow turned as soon as the result of the battle was decided. ere i had ceased speaking, jason, the steward--you know him--appeared with refreshments. i took the beaker, but, ere i could raise it to my lips, he fell to the deck with a cloven skull, mingling his blood with the spilled juice of the grape. my blood seemed fairly to freeze in my veins, and alexas, trembling and deadly pale, asked, 'do you command us to quit the battle?' "every fibre of my being urged me to give the order, but i controlled myself, and asked the nauarch, who was standing on the bridge before me, 'are we gaining the advantage?' the reply was a positive 'yes.' i thought the fitting time had come, and called to him to steer the galley southward. but the man did not seem to understand. meanwhile the noise of the conflict had grown louder and louder. so, in spite of charmian, who besought me not to interfere in the battle, i sent alexas to the commander on the bridge, and while he talked with the grey-bearded seaman, who wrathfully answered i know not what, i glanced at the nearest ship--i no longer knew whether it was friend or foe--and as i saw the rows of restless oars moving in countless numbers to and fro, it seemed as if every ship had become a huge spider, and the long wooden handles of the oars were its legs and feet. each of these monsters appeared to be seeking to snare me in a horrible net, and when the nauarch came to beseech me to wait, i imperiously commanded him to obey my orders. "the luckless man bowed, and performed his queen's behest. the giant was turned, and forced a passage through the maze. "i breathed more freely. "what had threatened me like the legs of huge spiders became oars once more. alexas led me under a roof, where no missiles could reach me. my desire was fulfilled. i had escaped antony's eyes, and we were going towards alexandria and my children. when i at last looked around i saw that my other ships were following. i had not given this order, and was terribly startled. when i sought alexas, he had vanished. the centurion whom i sent to order the nauarch to give the signal to the other ships to return to the battle, reported that the captain's dead body has just been borne away, but that the command should be given. how this was done i do not know, but it produced no effect, and no one noticed the anxious waving of my handkerchief. "we had left antony's galley--he was standing on the bridge--far behind. "i had waved my hand as we passed close by, and he hurried down to bend far over the bulwark and shout to me. i can still see his hands raised to his bearded lips. i did not understand what he said, and only pointed southward and in spirit wished him victory and that this separation might tend to the welfare of our love. but he shook his head, pressed his hand despairingly to his brow, and waved his arms as though to give me a sign, but the antonias swept far ahead of his ship and steered straight towards the south. "i breathed more freely, in the pleasant consciousness of escaping a twofold danger. had i remained long before antony's eyes, looking as i did then, it might-"wretched blunder of a wretched woman, i say now. but at that time i could not suspect what a terrible doom i had brought down in that hour upon ourselves, my children, perhaps the whole world; so i remained under the thrall of these petty fears and thoughts until wounded men were carried past me. the sight distressed me; you know how sensitive i am, and with what difficulty i endure and witness suffering. "charmian led me to the cabin. there i first realized what i had done. i had hoped to aid in crushing the hated foe, and now perhaps it was i who had built for him the bridge to victory, to sovereignty, to our destruction. pursued by such thoughts, as if by the furies, i paced restlessly to and fro. "suddenly i heard a loud noise on deck. a crashing blow seemed to shake the huge ship. we were pursued! a roman galley had boarded mine! this was my thought as i grasped the dagger antony had given me. "but charmian came back with tidings which seemed scarcely less terrible than the baseless fear. i had angrily commanded her to leave me because she had urged me to revoke the command to turn back. now, deadly pale, she announced that mark antony had left his galley, followed me in a little five-oared boat, and come on board our ship. "my blood froze in my veins. "he had come, i imagined, to force me to return to the battle and, drawing a long breath, my defiant pride urged me to show him that i was the queen and would obey only my own will, while my heart impelled me to sink at his feet and beseech him, without heeding me, to issue any order which promised to secure a victory. "but he did not come. "i sent charmian up again. antony had been unable to continue the conflict when parted from me. now he sat in front of the cabin with his head resting on his hands, staring at the planks of the deck like one distraught. he, he--antony! the bravest horseman, the terror of the foe, let his arms fall like a shepherd-boy whose sheep are stolen by the wolves. mark antony, the hero who had braved a thousand dangers, had flung down his sword. why, why? because a woman had yielded to idle fears, obeyed the yearning of a mother's heart, and fled? of all human weaknesses, not one had been more alien than cowardice to the man whose recklessness had led him to many an unprecedented venture. and now? no, a thousand times no! fire and water would unite sooner than mark antony and cowardice! he had been under the coercive power of a demon; a mysterious spell had forced him--" "the mightiest power, love," interrupted iras with enthusiastic warmth-"a love as great and overmastering as ever subjugated the soul of man." "ay, love," repeated cleopatra, in a hollow tone. then her lips curled with a faint tinge of derision, and her voice expressed the very bitterness of doubt, as she continued: "had it been merely the love which makes two mortals one, transfers the heart of one to the other, it might perchance have borne my timorous soul into the hero's breast! but no. violent tempests had raged before the battle. it had not been possible always to appear before him in the guise in which we would fain be seen by those whom we love. "even now, when your skilful hands have served me--there is the mirror-the image it reflects--seems to me like a carefully preserved wreck--" "o my royal mistress," cried iras, raising her hands beseechingly, "must i again declare that neither the grey hairs which are again brown, nor the few lines which olympus will soon render invisible, nor whatever else perhaps disturbs you in the image you behold reflected, impairs your beauty? unclouded and secure of victory, the spell of your godlike nature--" "cease, cease!" interrupted cleopatra. "i know what i know. no mortal can escape the great eternal laws of nature. as surely as birth commences life, everything that exists moves onward to destruction and decay." "yet the gods," iras persisted, "give to their works different degrees of existence. the waterlily blooms but a single day, yet how full of vigour is the sycamore in the garden of the paneum, which has flourished a thousand years! not a petal in the blossoms of your youth has faded, and is it conceivable that there is even the slightest diminution in the love of him who cast away all that man holds dearest because he could not endure to part, even for days or weeks, from the woman whom he worshipped?" "would that he had done so!" cried cleopatra mournfully. "but are you so sure that it was love which made him follow me? i am of a different opinion. true love does not paralyze, but doubles the high qualities of man. i learned this when caesar was prisoned by a greatly superior force within this very palace, his ships burned, his supply of water cut off. in him also, in antony, i was permitted to witness this magnificent spectacle twenty--what do i say?-a hundred times, so long as he loved me with all the ardour of his fiery soul. but what happened at actium? that shameful flight of the cooing dove after his mate, at which generations yet unborn will point in mockery! he who does not see more deeply will attribute to the foolish madness of love this wretched forgetfulness of duty, honour, fame, the present and the future; but i, iras--and this is the thought which whitens one hair after another, which will speedily destroy the remnant of your mistress's former beauty by the exhaustion of sleepless nights--i know better. it was not love which drew antony after me, not love that trampled in the dust the radiant image of reckless courage, not love that constrained the demigod to follow the pitiful track of a fugitive woman." here her voice fell, and seizing the girl's wrist with a painful pressure, she drew her closer to her side and whispered: "the goblet of nektanebus is connected with it. ay, tremble! the powers that emanate from the glittering wonder are as terrible as they are unnatural. the magic spell exerted by the beaker has transformed the heroic son of herakles, the more than mortal, into the whimpering coward, the crushed, broken nonentity i found upon the galley's deck. you are silent? your nimble tongue finds no reply. how could you have forgotten that you aided me to win the wager which forced antony to gaze into the beaker before i filled it for him? how grateful i was to anubis when he finally consented to trust to my care this marvel of the temple treasures, when the first trial succeeded, and antony, at my bidding, placed the magnificent wreath which he wore upon the bald brow of that crabbed old follower of aristoteles, diomedes, whom he detested in his inmost soul! it was scarcely a year ago, and you know how rarely at first i used the power of the terrible vessel. the man whom i loved obeyed my slightest glance, without its aid. but later--before the battle--i felt how gladly he would have sent me, who might ruin all, back to egypt. besides, i felt--i have already said so--that something had come between us. yet, often as he was on the point of sacrificing me to the importunate romans, i need only bid him gaze into the beaker, and exclaim 'you will not send me hence. we belong together. whither one goes, the other will follow!' and he besought me not to leave him. the very morning before the battle i gave him the drinking cup, urging him, whatever might happen, never, never to leave me. and he obeyed this time also, though the person to whom a magic spell bound him was a fleeing woman. it is terrible. and yet, have i a right to execrate the thrall of the beaker? scarcely! for without the magian's glittering vessel-a secret voice in my soul has whispered the warning a thousand times during the sleepless nights--he would have taken another on the galley. and i believe i know this other--i mean the woman whose singing enthralled my heart too at the adonis festival just before our departure. i noticed the look with which his eyes sought hers. now i know that it was not merely my old deceitful foe, jealousy, which warned me against her. alexas, the most faithful of his friends, also confirmed what i merely feared--ah! and he told me other things which the stars had revealed to him. besides, he knows the siren, for she was the wife of his own brother. to protect his honour, he cast off the coquettish circe." "barine!" fell in resolute tones from the lips of iras. "so you know her?" asked cleopatra, eagerly. the girl raised her clasped hands beseechingly to the queen, exclaiming: "i know this woman only too well, and how my heart rages against her! o my mistress, that i, too, should aid in darkening this hour! yet it must be said. that antony visited the singer, and even took his son there more than once, is known throughout the city. yet that is not the worst. a barine entering into rivalry with you! it would be too ridiculous. but what bounds can be set to the insatiate greed of these women? no rank, no age is sacred. it was dull in the absence of the court and the army. there were no men who seemed worth the trouble of catching, so she cast her net for boys, and the one most closely snared was the king caesarion." "caesarion!" exclaimed cleopatra, her pale cheeks flushing. "and his tutor rhodon? my strict commands?" "antyllus secretly presented him to her," replied iras. "but i kept my eyes open. the boy clung to the singer with insensate passion. the only expedient was to remove her from the city. archibius aided me." "then i shall be spared sending her away." "nay, that must still be done; for, on the journey to the country caesarion, with several comrades, attacked her." "and the reckless deed was successful?" "no, my royal mistress. i wish it had been. a love-sick fool who accompanied her drew his sword in her defence, raised his hand against the son of caesar, and wounded him. calm yourself, i beseech you, i conjure you--the wound is slight. the boy's mad passion makes me far more anxious." the queen's pouting scarlet lips closed so firmly that her mouth lost the winning charm which was peculiar to it, and she answered in a firm, resolute tone: "it is the mother's place to protect the son against the temptress. alexas is right. her star stands in the path of mine. a woman like this casts a deep shadow on her queen's course. i will defend myself. it is she who has placed herself between us; she has won antony. but no! why should i blind myself? time and the charms he steals from women are far more powerful than twenty such little temptresses. then, there are the circumstances which prevented my concealing the defects that wounded the eyes of this most spoiled of all spoiled mortals. all these things aided the singer. i feel it. in her pursuit of men she had at her command all the means which aid us women to conceal what is unlovely and enhance what is beautiful in a lover's eyes, while i was at a disadvantage, lacking your aid and the long-tested skill of olympus. the divinity on the ship, amid the raging of the storm, was forced more than once to appear before the worshipper ungarlanded, without ornament for the head, or incense." "but though she used all the combined arts of aphrodite and isis, she could not vie with you, my royal mistress!" cried iras. "how little is required to delude the senses of one scarcely more than a child!" "poor boy!" sighed the queen, gently. "had he not been wounded, and were it not so hard to resign what we love, i should rejoice that he, too, understands how to plan and act. perhaps--o iras, would that it might be so!--now that the gate is burst open, the brain and energy of the great caesar will enter his living image. as the egyptians call horus 'the avenger of his father,' perhaps he may become his mother's defender and avenger. if caesar's spirit wakes within him, he will wrest from the dissembler octavianus the heritage of which the nephew robbed the son. you swear that the wound is but a slight one?" "the physicians have said so." "well, then we will hope so. let him enter the conflict of life. we will afford him ample opportunity to test his powers. no foolish passion shall prevent the convalescent youth from following his father upward along the pathway of fame. but send for the woman who ensnared him, the audacious charmer whose aspirations mount to those i hold dearest. we will see how she appears beside me!" "these are grievous times," said iras, who saw in amazement the queen's eyes sparkle with the confident light of victory. "grant your foot its right. let it crush her! monsters enough, on whom you cannot set your foot, throng your path. hence to hades, in these days of conflict, with all who can be quickly removed!" "murder?" asked cleopatra, her noble brow contracting in a frown. "if it must be, ay," replied iras, sharply. "if possible, banishment to an island, an oasis. if necessity requires, to the mines with the siren!" "if necessity requires?" repeated the queen. "i think that means, if it proves that she has deserved the harshest punishment." "she has brought it upon herself by every hour of my sovereign's life clouded through her wiles. in the mines the desire to set snares for husbands and sons soon vanishes." "and people languish in the most terrible torture till death ends their suffering," added cleopatra, in a tone of grave reproof. "no, girl, this victory is too easy. i will not send even my foe to death without a hearing, especially at this time, which teaches me what it is to await the verdict of one who is more powerful. this woman who, as it were, summons me to battle, shall have her wish. i am curious to see the singer again, and to learn the means by which she has succeeded in chaining to her triumphal car so many captives, from boys up to the most exacting men." "what do you intend, my royal mistress?" cried iras in horror. "i intend," said cleopatra imperiously, "to see the daughter of leonax, the granddaughter of didymus, two men whom i hold in high esteem, ere i decide her destiny. i wish to behold, test, and judge my rival, heart and mind, ere i condemn her. i will engage in the conflict to which she challenged the loving wife and mother! but--this is my right--i will compel her to show herself to me as antony so often saw me during the past few weeks, unaided and unimproved by the arts which we both have at command." then, without paying any further heed to her attendant, she went to a window, and, after a swift glance at the sky, added quietly: "the first hour after midnight is drawing to a close. the council will begin immediately. the matter to be under discussion is a venture which might save much from the wreck. the council will last two hours, perchance only one. the singer can wait. "where does she live?" "in the house which belonged to her father, the artist leonax, in the garden of the paneum," replied iras hoarsely. "but, o my queen, if ever my opinion had the slightest weight with you--" "i desire no counsel now, but demand the fulfilment of my orders!" cried cleopatra resolutely. "as soon as those whom i expect are here--" the queen was interrupted by a chamberlain, who announced the arrival of the men whom she had summoned, and cleopatra bade him tell them that she was on her way to the council chamber. then she turned again to iras and in rapid words commanded her to go at once in a closed carriage, accompanied by a reliable person, to barine's house. she must be brought to the palace without the least delay--iras would understand--even if it should be necessary to rouse her from her sleep. "i wish to see her as if a storm had forced her suddenly upon the deck of a ship," she said in conclusion. then snatching a small tablet from the dressing-table, she scrawled upon the wax with a rapid hand: "cleopatra, the queen, desires to see barine, the daughter of leonax, without delay. she must obey any command of iras, cleopatra's messenger, and her companion." then, closing the diptychon, she handed it to her attendant, asking: "whom will you take?" she answered without hesitation, "alexas." "very well," answered cleopatra. "do not allow her a moment for preparations, whatever they may be. but do not forget--i command you-that she is a woman." with these words she turned to follow the chamberlain, but iras hurried after her to adjust the diadem upon her head and arrange some of the folds of her robe. cleopatra submitted, saying kindly, "something else, i see, is weighing on your heart." "o my mistress!" cried the girl. "after these tempests of the soul, these harassing months, you are turning night into day and assuming fresh labours and anxieties. if the leech olympus--" "it must be," interrupted cleopatra kindly. "the last two weeks seemed like a single long and gloomy night, during which i sometimes left my couch for a few hours. one who seeks to drag what is dearest from the river does not consider whether the cold bath is agreeable. if we succumb, it does not matter whether we are well or ill; if, on the contrary, we succeed in gathering another army and saving egypt, let it cost health and life. the minutes i intend to grant to the woman will be thrown into the bargain. whatever may come, i shall be ready to meet my fate. i am at one of life's great turning points. at such a time we fulfil our obligations and demands, both great and small." a few minutes later cleopatra entered the throne-room and saluted the men whom she had roused from their slumber in order to lay before them a bold plan which, in the lowest depths of misfortune, her yearning to offer fresh resistance to the victorious foe had caused her vigorous, restless mind to evoke. when, many years before, the boy with whom, according to her father's will, she shared the throne, and his guardian pothinus, had compelled her to fly from alexandria, she had found in the eastern frontier of the delta, on the isthmus which united egypt to asia, the remains of the canal which the energetic pharaohs of former times had constructed to connect the mediterranean with the red sea. even at that period she had deemed this ruinous work worthy of notice, had questioned the aenites who dwelt there about the remains, and even visited some of them herself during the leisure hours of waiting. from this survey it had seemed possible, by a great expenditure of labour, to again render navigable the canal which the pharaohs had used to reach both seas in the same galleys, and by which, less than five hundred years before, darius, the founder of the persian empire, had brought his fleet to his support. with the tireless desire for knowledge characteristic of her, cleopatra had sought information concerning all these matters, and in quiet hours had more than once pondered over plans for again uniting the grecian and arabian seas. clearly, plainly, fully, with more thorough knowledge of many details than even the superintendent of the water works, she explained her design to the assembled professionals. if it proved practicable, the rescued ships of the fleet, with others lying in the roadstead of alexandria, could be conveyed across the isthmus into the red sea, and thus saved to egypt and withdrawn from the foe. supported by this force, many things might be attempted, resistance might be considerably prolonged, and the time thus gained used in gathering fresh aid and allies. if the opportunity to make an attack arrived, a powerful fleet would be at her disposal, for which smaller ships also should now be built at klysma, on the basis of the experience gained at actium. the men who had been robbed of their night's rest listened in amazement to the melodious words of this woman who, in the deepest disaster, had devised a plan of escape so daring in its grandeur, and understood how to explain it better than any one of their number could have done. they followed every sentence with the keenest attention, and cleopatra's language grew more impassioned, gained greater power and depth, the more plainly she perceived the unfeigned, enthusiastic admiration paid her by her listeners. even the oldest and most experienced men did not consider the surprising proposal utterly impossible and impracticable. some, among them gorgias, who during the restoration of the serapeum had helped his father on the eastern frontier of the delta, and thus became familiar with the neighbourhood of heroonopolis, feared the difficulties which an elevation of the earth in the centre of the isthmus would place in the way of the enterprise. yet, why should an undertaking which was successful in the days of sesostris appear unattainable? the shortness of the time at their disposal was a still greater source of anxiety, and to this was added the information that one hundred and twenty thousand workmen had perished during the restoration of the canal which pharaoh necho nearly completed. the water way was not finished at that period, because an oracle had asserted that it would benefit only the foreigners, the phoenicians. all these points were duly considered, but could not shake the opinion that, under specially favourable conditions, the queen's plan would be practicable; though, to execute it, obstacles mountain-high were to be conquered. all the labourers in the fields, who had not been pressed into the army, must be summoned to the work. not an hour's delay was permitted. where there was no water to bear the ships, an attempt must be made to convey them across the land. there was no lack of means. the mechanics who had understood how to move the obelisks and colossi from the cataract to alexandria, could here again find opportunity to test their brains and former skill. never had cleopatra's kindling spirit roused more eager, nay, more passionate sympathy, in any counsellors gathered around her than during this nocturnal meeting, and when at last she paused, the loud acclamations of excited men greeted her. the queen's return, and the tidings of the lost battle which she had communicated, were to be kept secret. gorgias had been appointed one of the directors of the enterprise, and the intellect, voice, and winning charm of cleopatra had so enraptured him that he already fancied he saw the commencement of a new love which would be fatal to his regard for helena. it was foolish to raise his wishes so high, but he told himself that he had never beheld a woman more to be desired. yet he cherished a very warm memory of the philosopher's grand-daughter, and lamented that he would scarcely find it possible to bid her farewell. zeno, the keeper of the seal, dion's uncle, had questioned him about his nephew in a very mysterious manner as soon as he entered the council chamber, and received the reply that the wound in the shoulder, which caesarion had dealt with a short roman sword, though severe, was--so the physicians assured them-not fatal. this seemed to satisfy zeno, and ere gorgias could urge him to extend a protecting hand over his nephew, he excused himself and, with a message to the wounded man, turned his back upon him. the courtier had not yet learned what view the queen would take of this unfortunate affair, and besides, he was overloaded with business. the new enterprise required the issue of a large number of documents conferring authority, which all passed through his hands. cleopatra addressed a few kind, encouraging words to each one of the experts who had been entrusted with the execution of her plan. gorgias, too, was permitted to kiss her robe, which stirred his blood afresh. he would fain have flung himself at the feet of this marvellous woman and, with his services, place his life at her disposal. and cleopatra noticed the enthusiastic ardour of his glance. he, too, had been mentioned in the list of barine's admirers. there must be something unusual about this woman! but could she have fired a body of grave men in behalf of a great, almost impossible deed, roused them to such enthusiastic admiration as she, the vanquished, menaced queen? certainly not. she felt in the right mood to confront barine as judge and rival. in the midst of the deepest misery she had spent one happy hour. she had again felt, with joyous pride, that her intellect, fresh and unclouded, would be capable of outstripping the best powers, and in truth she needed no magic goblet to win hearts. etext editor's bookmarks: aspect obnoxious to the gaze will pour water on the fire everything that exists moves onward to destruction and decay trouble does not enhance beauty this ebook was produced by david widger <widger@cecomet.net> [note: there is a short list of bookmarks, or pointers, at the end of the file for those who may wish to sample the author's ideas before making an entire meal of them. d.w.] a thorny path by georg ebers volume 3. chapter viii. the sun had passed the meridian when melissa and andreas left the house. they walked on in silence through the deserted streets, the girl with her eyes sadly fixed on the ground; for an inward voice warned her that her lover's life was in danger. she did not sob, but more than once she wiped away a large tear. andreas, too, was lost in his own thoughts. to win a soul to the saviour was surely a good work. he knew melissa's sober, thoughtful nature, and the retired, joyless life she led with her surly old father. so his knowledge of human nature led him to think that she, if any one, might easily be won over to the faith in which he found his chief happiness. baptism had given such sanctification to his life that he longed to lead the daughter of the only woman for whom his heart had ever beat a shade faster, to the baptismal font. in the heat of summer olympias had often been the guest for weeks together of polybius's wife, now likewise dead. then she had taken a little house of her own for herself and her children, and when his master's wife died, the lonely widower had known no greater pleasure than that of receiving her on his estate for as long as heron would allow her to remain; he himself never left his work for long. thus andreas had become the great ally of the gem-cutter's children, and, as they could learn nothing from him that was not good and worth knowing, olympias had gladly allowed them to remain in his society, and herself found a teacher and friend in the worthy steward. she knew that andreas had joined the christians; she had made him tell her much about his faith; still, as the daughter and wife of artists, she was firmly attached to the old gods, and could only regard the christian doctrine as a new system of philosophy in which many things attracted her, but many, on the other hand, repelled her. at that time his passion for melissa's mother had possessed him so wholly that his life was a constant struggle against the temptation to covet his neighbor's wife. and he had conquered, doing severe penance for every glance which might for an instant betray to her the weakness of his soul. she had loved flowers, and he knew the plant-world so well, and was so absolutely master over everything which grew and bloomed in the gardens of which he had charge, that he could often intrust his speechless favorites to tell her things which lips and eyes might not reveal. now she was no more, and the culture of plants had lost half its charm since her eyes could no longer watch their thriving. he now left the gardens for the most part to his men, while he devoted himself to other cares with double diligence, and to the strictest exercises of his faith. but, as many a man adores the children of the woman he might not marry, alexander and melissa daily grew dearer to andreas. he took a father's interest in their welfare, and, needing little himself, he carefully hoarded his ample income to promote the cause of christianity and encourage good works; but he had paid alexander's debts when his time of apprenticeship was over, for they were so considerable that the reckless youth had not dared confess the sum to his stern father. very soon after this, alexander had become one of the most popular painters of the town; and when he proposed to repay his friend the money he had lent him, andreas accepted it; but he added it to a capital of which the purpose was his secret, but which, if his prayers were heard, might return once more to benefit alexander. diodoros, too, was as dear to the freedman as a son of his own could have been, though he was a heathen. in the gymnasium and the race-course, or in the practice of the mysteries, the good seed which he sowed in the lad's heart was trodden down. polybius, too, was an utter heathen; indeed, he was one of the priests of dionysus and demeter, as his wealth and position in the senate required. then, diodoros had confessed to him that he hoped to win melissa for his wife, and this had been adverse to andreas's hope and purpose of making a christian of the girl; for he knew by experience how easily married happiness was wrecked when man and wife worship different gods. but when the freedman had again seen the gem-cutter's brutality and the girl's filial patience, an inward voice had called to him that this gentle, gifted creature was one of those elect from among whom the lord chose the martyrs for the faith; and that it was his part to lead her into the fold of the redeemer. he had begun the work of converting her with the zeal he put into everything. but fresh doubts had come upon him on the threshold of the sick-room, after seeing the lad who was so dear to him, and whose eye had met his with such a trustful, suffering look. could it be right to sow the seed of discord between him and his future wife? and supposing diodoros, too, should be converted by melissa, could he thus alienate from his father the son and heir of polybius--his benefactor and master? then, he remembered, too, to what a position he had risen through that master's confidence in him. polybius knew nothing of the concerns of his house but from the reports laid before him by andreas; for the steward controlled not merely the estate but the fortune of the family, and for years had been at the head of the bank which he himself had founded to increase the already vast income of the man to whom he owed his freedom. polybius paid him a considerable portion of each year's profits, and had said one day at a banquet, with the epigrammatic wit of an alexandrian, that his freedman, andreas, served his interests as only one other man could do--namely, himself--but with the industry of ten. the christian greatly appreciated his confidence; and as he walked on by the side of melissa, he told himself again and again that it would be dishonorable to betray it. if only the sweet girl might find the way alone! if she were chosen to salvation, the lord himself would lead and guide her. had he indeed not beckoned her already by impressing on her heart those words, "the fullness of the time is now come?" that he was justified in keeping this remembrance alive he had no doubt; and he was about to speak of it again, when she prevented him by raising her large eyes beseechingly to his, and asking him: "is diodoros in real danger? tell me the truth. i would rather endure the worst than this dreadful anxiety." so andreas acknowledged that the youth was in a bad way, but that ptolemaeus, himself well-skilled, hoped to cure him if his greater colleague galenus would aid him. "and it is to secure his assistance, then," melissa went on, "that the leech would have him carried to the serapeum?" "yes, my child. for he is in caesar's train, and it would be vain to try to speak with him to-day or to-morrow." "but the journey through the town will do the sufferer a mischief." "he will be carried in a litter." "but even that is not good for him. perfect quiet, ptolemaeus said, was the best medicine." "but galenus has even better remedies at hand," was the reply. melissa seemed satisfied with this assurance, for she walked on for some time in silence. but when the uproar of the crowd in the vicinity of the serapeum became more audible as they advanced, she suddenly stood still, and said: "come what may, i will find my way to the great physician's presence and crave his help." "you?" cried the freedman; and when she firmly reiterated her purpose, the strong man turned pale. "you know not what you say!" he exclaimed, in deep concern. "the men who guard the approaches to caracalla are ruthless profligates, devoid of courtesy or conscience. but, you may rely upon it, you will not even get into the antechamber." "perhaps. nevertheless, it is my duty, and i will try." how firmly and decisively she spoke! and what strength of will sparkled in the quiet, modest maiden's eyes! and the closely set lips, which usually were slightly parted, and hardly covered two of her pearly white teeth, gave her a look of such determination, that andreas could see that no obstacle would check her. still, love and duty alike required him to use every means in his power to keep her from taking such a step. he lavished all his eloquence; but she adhered to her purpose with steadfast persistency, and none of the reasons he could adduce to prove the impossibility of the undertaking convinced her. the only point which staggered her was the information that the great leech was an old man, who walked with difficulty; and that galen, as a heathen and a disciple of aristotle, would never be induced to enter a christian dwelling. both these facts might be a serious hindrance to her scheme; yet she would not now stop to reflect. they had got back to the great street of hermes, leading from the temple of that god to the serapeum, and must cross it to reach the lake, their immediate destination. as in all the principal streets of alexandria, a colonnade bordered the street in front of the houses on each side of the wide and handsome roadway. under these arcades the foot-passengers were closely packed, awaiting caesar's passage. he must soon be coming, for the reception, first at the kanopic gate, and then at the gate of the sun, was long since over; and, even if he had carried out his purpose of halting at the tomb of alexander the great, he could not be detained much longer. the distance hither down the kanopic way was not great, and swift horses would quickly bring him down the aspendia street to that of hermes, leading straight to the serapeum. his train was not to follow him to the soma, the mausoleum of the founder of the city, but to turn off to the southward by the paneum, and make a round into the street of hermes. the praetorians, the german body-guard, the imperial macedonian phalanx, and some mounted standard-bearers had by this time reached the spot where melissa was proceeding up the street holding andreas's hand. close by them came also a train of slaves, carrying baskets full of palm-leaves and fresh branches of ivy, myrtle, poplar, and pine, from the gardens of the paneum, to be carried to the serapeum. they were escorted by lictors, endeavoring with their axes and fasces to make a way for them through the living wall which barred their way. by the help of the mounted troops, who kept the main road clear, space was made for them; and andreas, who knew one of the overseers of the garden-slaves, begged him as a favor to allow melissa and himself to walk among his people. this was willingly granted to so well-known a man; and the way was quite free for the moment, because the imperial cartage had not followed immediately on the soldiers who had now all marched past. thus, among the flower-bearers, they reached the middle of the street; and while the slaves proceeded on their way to the serapeum, the freedman tried to cross the road, and reach the continuation of the street they had come by, and which led to the lake. but the attempt was frustrated, for some roman lictors who had just come up stood in their way, and sent them to the southern side of the street of hermes, to mingle with the gaping crowd under the arcade. they were, of course, but ill received by these, since they naturally found themselves in front of the foremost rank; but the stalwart frame and determined face of andreas, and the exceptional beauty of his young companion, over whose pretty head most of the gazers could easily see, protected her from rough treatment. andreas spoke a few words of apology to those standing nearest to them, and a young goldsmith at once courteously made way, so that melissa, who had taken a place behind a column, might see better. and in a few minutes--there was that to see which made every one forget the intruders. vehicles and outriders, litters swung between mules, and a long train of imperial footmen, in red tunics embroidered with gold, huntsmen with leashes of noble dogs, baggage-wagons and loaded elephants, came trooping down toward the serapeum; while suddenly, from the aspendia into the hermes way, the numidian horse rushed out, followed by a troop of mounted lictors, who galloped up the street, shouting their orders in loud tones to the imperial train, in a mixture of latin and greek, of which melissa understood only the words "caesar!" and "make way to the right!" the command was instantly obeyed. vehicles, foot-passengers, and riders alike crowded to the southern or left-hand side of the road, and the many-headed throng, of which andreas and melissa formed a part, drew as far back as possible under the colonnade; for on the edge of the footway there was the risk of being trampled on by a horse or crushed by a wheel. the back rows of the populace, who had collected under the arcades, were severely squeezed by this fresh pressure from without, and their outcries were loud of anger, alarm; or pain; while on the other side of the street arose shouts of delight and triumph, or, when anything singular came into view, loud laughter at the wit and irony of some jester. added to these there were the clatter of hoofs and the roll of wheels, the whinnying of horses, the shouts of command, the rattle of drums, the blare of trumpets, and the shrill pipe of flutes, without a moment's pause. it was a wild and ear-splitting tumult; to melissa, however, neither painful nor pleasing, for the one idea, that she must speak with the great physician, silenced every other. but suddenly there came up from the east, from the rising of the sun, whose course caesar had followed, such a tremendous roar that she involuntarily clutched her companion's hand. every instant the storm of noise increased, rolling on with irresistible vehemence, gathering force as it came on, receiving, as it were, fresh tributaries on its way, and rapidly swelling from the distance to the immediate vicinity, compelling every one, as with a magic power, to yield to the superior will of numbers and join in the cry. even melissa cheered. she, too, was as a drop in the tide, a leaf on the rippling face of the rushing torrent; her heart beat as wildly and her voice rang as clear as that of the rest of the throng, intoxicated with they knew not what, which crowded the colonnades by the roadway, and every window and roof-top, waving handkerchiefs, strewing flowers on the ground, and wiping the tears which this unwonted excitement had brought to their eyes. and now the shout is so tremendous that it could not possibly be louder. it seems as though it were the union of voices innumerable rather than the seabreeze, which flutters the pennons and flags which wave from every house and arch, and sways the garlands hung across the street. melissa can see none but flushed faces, eyes swimming in tears, parted lips, wildly waving arms and hands. then suddenly a mysterious power hushes the loud tones close round her; she hears only here and there the cry of "caesar!" "he is coming!" "here he is!"--and the swift tramp of hoofs and the clatter of wheels sounding like the rattle of an iron building after a peal of thunder, above the shouts of ten thousand human beings. closer it comes and closer, without a pause, and followed by fresh shouting, as a flock of daws follow an owl flying across the twilight, swelling again to irrepressible triumph as the expected potentate rushes past melissa and her neighbors. they only see caesar as a form scarcely discerned by the eye during the space of a lightning-flash in a dark night. four tawny bay horses of medium size, dappled with black, harnessed abreast and wide apart, fly along the cleared road like hunted foxes, the light gallic chariot at their heels. the wheels seem scarcely to touch the smooth flags of the alexandrian pavement. the charioteer wears the red-bordered toga of the highest roman officials. he is well known by repute, and the subject of many a sharp jest; for this is pandion, formerly a stableboy, and now one of "caesar's friends," a praetor, and one of the great men of the empire. but he knows his business; and what does caracalla care for tradition or descent, for the murmurs and discontent of high or low? pandion holds the reins with elegant composure, and urges the horses to a frantic pace by a mere whistle, without ever using the whip. but why is it that he whirls the mighty monarch of half a world, before whose bloodthirsty power every one quakes, so swiftly past these eager spectators? sunk in the cushions on one side, bassianus antoninus is reclining rather than sitting in the four-wheeled open chariot of gallic make which sweeps past. he does not vouchsafe a glance at the jubilant crowd, but gazes down at the road, his well-shaped brow so deeply furrowed with gloom that he might be meditating some evil deed. it is easy to discern that he is of middle height; that his upper lip and cheeks are unshaven, and his chin smooth; that his hair is already thin, though he lacks two years of thirty; and that his complexion is pale and sallow; indeed, his aspect is familiar from statues and coins, many of which are of base metal. most of those who thus beheld the man who held in his hand the fate of each individual he passed, as of the empire at large, involuntarily asked themselves afterward what impression he had made on them; and caracalla himself would have rejoiced in the answer, for he aimed not at being attractive or admired, but only at being feared. but, indeed, they had long since learned that there was nothing too horrible to be expected of him; and, now that they had seen him, they were of opinion that his appearance answered to his deeds. it would be hard to picture a more sinister and menacing looking man than this emperor, with his averted looks and his haughty contempt for the world and mankind; and yet there was something about him which made it difficult to take him seriously, especially to an alexandrian. there was a touch of the grotesque in the gallic robe with a red hood in which this ominous-looking contemner of humanity was wrapped. it was called a 'caracalla', and it was from this garment that bassianus antoninus had gained his nickname. the tyrant who wore this gaudy cloak was, no doubt, devoid alike of truth and conscience; but, as to his being a philosopher, who knew the worthlessness of earthly things and turned his back upon the world, those who could might believe it! he was no more than an actor, who played the part of timon not amiss, and who made use of his public to work upon their fears and enjoy the sight of their anguish. there was something lacking in him to make one of those thorough-going haters of their kind at whose mere aspect every knee must bend. the appearance, in short, of this false philosopher was not calculated to subdue the rash tongues of the alexandrians. to this many of them agreed; still, there was no time for such reflections till the dust had shrouded the chariot, which vanished as quickly as it had come, till the shouting was stilled, and the crowd had spread over the roadway again. then they began to ask themselves why they had joined in the acclamations, and had been so wildly excited; how it was that they had so promptly surrendered their self-possession and dignity for the sake of this wicked little man. perhaps it was his unlimited control over the weal and woe of the world, over the life and death of millions, which raised a mortal, not otherwise formed for greatness, so far above common humanity to a semblance of divinity. perhaps it was the instinctive craving to take part in the grand impulsive expression of thousands of others that had carried away each individual. it was beyond a doubt a mysterious force which had compelled every one to do as his neighbors did as soon as caesar had appeared. melissa had succumbed with the rest; she had shouted and waved her kerchief, and had not heeded andreas when he held her hand and asked her to consider what a criminal this man was whom she so eagerly hailed. it was not till all was still again that she recollected herself, and her determination to get the famous physician to visit her lover revived in renewed strength. fully resolved to dare all, she looked about with calm scrutiny, considering the ways and means of achieving her purpose without any aid from andreas. she was in a fever of impatience, and longed to force her way at once into the serapeum. but that was out of the question, for no one moved from his place. there was, however, plenty to be seen. a complete revulsion of feeling had come over the crowd. in the place of expectancy, its graceless step-child, disappointment, held sway. there were no more shouts of joy; men's lungs were no longer strained to the utmost, but their tongues were all the busier. caesar was for the most part spoken of with contempt as tarautas, and with the bitterness--the grandchild of expectancy-which comes of disappointment. tarautas had originally been the name of a stunted but particularly bloodthirsty gladiator, in whom ill-will had traced some resemblance to caesar. the more remarkable figures in the imperial train were curiously gazed at and discussed. a worker in mosaic, who stood near melissa, had been employed in the decoration of the baths of caracalla at rome, and had much information to impart; he even knew the names of several of the senators and courtiers attached to caesar. and, with all this, time was found to give vent to discontent. the town had done its utmost to make itself fine enough to receive the emperor. statues had been erected of himself, of his father, his mother, and even of his favorite heroes, above all of alexander the great; triumphal arches without number had been constructed. the vast halls of the serapeum, through which he was to pass, had been magnificently decorated; and in front of the new temple, outside the kanopic gate, dedicated to his father, who now ranked among the gods, the elders of the town had been received by caesar, to do him homage and offer him the gifts of the city. all this had cost many talents, a whole heap of gold; but alexandria was wealthy, and ready to make even greater sacrifices if only they had been accepted with thanks and condescension. but a young actor, who had been a spectator of the scene at the kanopic gate, and had then hurried hither, declared, with dramatic indignation, that caesar had only replied in a few surly words to the address of the senate, and even while he accepted the gift had looked as if he were being ill-used. the delegates had retired as though they had been condemned to death. to none but timotheus, the high-priest of serapis, had he spoken graciously. others confirmed this report; and dissatisfaction found expression in muttered abuse or satirical remarks and bitter witticisms. "why did he drive past so quickly?" asked a tailor's wife; and some one replied: "because the eumenides, who haunt him for murdering his brother, lash him on with their whips of snakes!" a spice-merchant; who was not less indignant but more cautious, hearing a neighbor inquire why tarautas drove panther-spotted horses, replied that such beasts of prey had spotted skins, and that like to like was a common rule. a cynical philosopher, who proclaimed his sect by his ragged garment, unkempt hair, and rough mode of speech, declared that caesar had a senator to guide his chariot because he had long since succeeded in turning the senate-house into a stable. to all this, however, melissa turned a deaf ear, for the thought of the great roman leech possessed her mind entirely. she listened earnestly to the mosaic-worker, who had come close up to her, and officiously mentioned the names of the most important personages as they went past. caesar's train seemed endless. it included not merely horse and foot soldiers, but numberless baggage-wagons, cars, elephants--which caracalla especially affected, because alexander the great had been fond of these huge beasts--horses, mules, and asses, loaded with bales, cases, tents, and camp and kitchen furniture. mingling with these came sutlers, attendants, pages, heralds, musicians, and slaves of the imperial household, in knots and parties, looking boldly about them at the bystanders. when they caught sight of a young and pretty woman on the edge of the path, they would wave a greeting; and many expressed their admiration of melissa in a very insolent manner. woolly-headed negroes and swarthy natives of north africa mixed with the fairer dwellers on the mediterranean and the yellow or red haired sons of northern europe. roman lictors, and scythian, thracian, or keltic men-at-arms kept every one out of the way who did not belong to the imperial train, with relentless determination. only the magians, wonder-workers, and street wenches were suffered to push their way in among the horses, asses, elephants, dogs, vehicles, and mounted troops. each time that one of the unwieldy traveling-carriages, drawn by several horses, came in sight, in which the wealthy roman was wont to take his ease on a long journey, or whenever a particularly splendid litter was borne past, melissa asked the mosaic-worker for information. in some few instances andreas could satisfy her curiosity, for he had spent some months at antioch on a matter of business, and had there come to know by sight some of caesar's most illustrious companions. so far the great galenus was not of the number; for caracalla, who was ailing, had but lately commanded his presence. the famous physician had sailed for pelusium, in spite of his advanced age, and had only just joined the sovereign's suite. the old man's chariot had been pointed out to the mosaic-worker at the kanopic gate, and he was certain that he could not mistake it for any other; it was one of the largest and handsomest; the side doors of it were decorated with the aesculapius staff and the cup of hygeia in silver, and on the top were statuettes in wood of minerva and of aesculapius. on hearing all this, melissa's face beamed with happy and hopeful anticipation. with one hand pressed to her throbbing bosom, she watched each vehicle as it drove past with such intense expectancy that she paid no heed to andreas's hint that they might now be able to make their way through the crowd. now--and the freedman had called her once more--here was another monstrous conveyance, belonging to julius paulinus, the former consul, whose keen face, with its bright, merry eyes, looked out between the silken curtains by the side of the grave, unsympathetic countenance of dion cassius the senator and historian. the consul, her informant told her--and andreas confirmed the statement-had displeased severus, caracalla's father, by some biting jest, but, on being threatened with death, disarmed his wrath by saying, "you can indeed have my head cut off, but neither you nor i can keep it steady." those of the populace who stood near enough to the speaker to hear this anecdote broke out in loud cheers, in which they were joined by others who had no idea of what had given rise to them. the consul's chariot was followed by a crowd of clients, domestic officials, and slaves, in litters, on horses or mules, or on foot; and behind these again came another vehicle, for some time concealed from sight by dust. but when at last the ten fine horses which drew it had gone past melissa, and the top of the vehicle became visible, the color mounted to her cheeks, for on the corners of the front she recognized the figures of aesculapius and minerva, which, if the mosaic-worker were right, distinguished the chariot of galenus. she listened breathlessly to the roll of the wheels of this coach, and she soon perceived the silver aesculapius staff and bowl on the wide door of this house on wheels, which was painted blue. at an open window by the door a kindly old face was visible, framed in long, gray hair. melissa started at hearing the order to halt shouted from the serapeum, far down the road, and again, close at hand, "halt!" the procession came to a standstill, the riders drew rein, the blue wheels ceased to turn, the coach was immovable but a few steps in front of her, and her eyes met those of the old man. the thought flashed through her brain that fate itself had brought about this pause just at this spot; and when she heard the mosaic-worker exclaim, "the great roman physician!" horses, coach, and everything swam before her eyes; she snatched her hand away from that of andreas, and stepped out on the roadway. in an instant she was standing face to face with the venerable leech. she heard the warning voice of her companion, she saw the crowd staring at her, she had, no doubt, a brief struggle with her maidenly shyness, but she carried out her purpose. the thought that the gods themselves were helping her to appeal to the only man who could save her lover, encouraged her to defy every obstacle. she was standing by the vehicle; and scarcely had she raised her sweet, innocent, blushing face with pathetic and touching entreaty to the whitehaired roman, her large, tear-filled eyes meeting his, when he beckoned her to him, and in pleasant, sympathetic tones desired to know what she wanted. then she made bold to ask whether he were the great roman physician, and he replied with a flattered and kindly smile that he was sometimes so called. her thankful glance to heaven revealed what a comfort his words were, and now her rosy lips moved freely, and she hurriedly, but with growing courage, gave him to understand that her betrothed, the son of a respected roman citizen of alexandria, was lying badly wounded in the head by a stone, and that the leech who was treating him had said that none but he, the great galenus, could save the young man's life. she also explained that ptolemaeus, though he had said that diodoros needed quiet above all things, had proposed to carry him to the serapeum, and to commend him there to the care of his greater colleague, but that she feared the worst results from the move. she glanced pleadingly into the roman's eyes, and added that he looked so kind that she hoped that he would go instead to see the sufferer, who had, quite by chance, been taken into a christian house not very far from the serapeum, where he was being taken good care of, and--as a matter of course--cure her lover. the old man had only interrupted her tale with a few sly questions as to her love-affair and her religion; for when she had told him that diodoros was under the care of christians, it had occurred to him that this simply but not poorly dressed girl, with her modest ways and sweet, calm face, might herself be a christian. he was almost surprised when she denied it, and yet he seemed pleased, and promised to grant her request. it was not fitting that a girl so young should enter any house where caesar and his train took up their abode; he would wait for her, "there"--and he pointed to a small, round temple to aphrodite, on the left-hand side of the street of hermes, where the road was rather wider--for the coach had meanwhile slowly moved on. next day, at three hours after the rising of the fierce african sun--for he could not bear its meridian heat--he would go thither in his litter. "and be sure you are there in good time!" he added, shaking his finger at her. "if you come an hour too soon, you will find me waiting!" she cried. he laughed, and said, "what pretty maid, indeed, would dare to be late for an appointment under the very eyes of the goddess of love!" he bade her a friendly farewell, and lay back in the chariot. melissa, radiant with happiness, looked about her for the place where she had left her companion. however, in spite of the lictors, andreas had followed her; he drew her hand under his arm, and led her through the now-thinning crowd into a sidelane which led to the lake, opening out of the colonnaded street opposite the little temple. melissa's steps were winged. her joy at having gained her end so quickly and so easily was uppermost in her mind, and as they threaded their way among the people she tried to tell andreas what the great physician had promised. but the noise drowned her speech, for at this moment caesar's tame lion, named the "sword of persia" was being led through the street by some numidian slaves. every one was looking at the splendid beast; and, as she too turned to gaze, her eye met the ardent glance of a tall, bearded man standing at the window of a house just behind the round temple to aphrodite. she at once recognized serapion, the magian, and whispered his name to andreas; he, however, without looking round, only drew her along more quickly, and did not breathe easily till they found themselves in the narrow, deserted alley. the magian had observed her while she stood by the roman's chariot, and his conversation with a syrian of middle age in his company had been of her. his companion's appearance was as insignificant as his own was stately and commanding. nothing distinguished the syrian from a thousand of his fellows but the cunning stamped on his sharply-cut features; still, the great magian seemed to hold him in some esteem, for he readily replied to the little man's questions and remarks. at this moment the syrian waved his hand in the air with a gesture common to men of his race when displaying their own superior knowledge, as he said "what did i spend ten years in rome for, if i do not know serenus samonicus? he is the greatest book-collector in the empire. and he regards himself as a second aesculapius, and has written a book on medicine in verse, which geta, caesar's murdered brother, always had about him, for he regarded the physicians here as mere bunglers. he is as rich as the alabarch, and riding in his coach is galenus, for whom caesar sent. what can that girl want of him?" "h'm!" muttered the other, stroking his beard with thoughtful dignity. "she is a modest maiden; it can only be something urgent and important which has prompted her to address the roman." "your castor will be able to find out," replied the syrian annianus. "that omniscient rascal can get through a key-hole, and by to-morrow will be the best friend of the roman's people, if you care to know." "we will see," said serapion. "her brother, perhaps, to-morrow evening, will tell me what is going on." "the philosopher?" said the other, with a contemptuous flourish. "you are a great sage, serapion, as the people hold; but you often sew with needles too fine for me. why, just now, when caesar is here, and gain and honor be in the streets for such a one as you only to stoop for--why, i say, you should waste precious time on that poring fellow from the museum, i can not understand." a superior smile parted the magian's lips; he stepped back into the room, followed by annianus, and replied: "you know how many who call themselves magians will crowd round caesar, and the fame of sosibius, hananja, and kaimis, is not much behind mine. each plies his art by his own formulas, though he may call himself a pythagorean or what not. none dare claim to belong to any recognized school, since the philosophers of the guild pride themselves on condemning the miracle-mongers. now, in his youth, caracalla went through his courses of philosophy. he detests aristotle, and has always attached himself to plato and the pythagoreans. you yourself told me that by his desire philostratus is writing a life of apollonius of tyana; and, though he may turn up his nose at the hair-splitting and frittering of the sages of the museum, it is in his blood to look for marvels from those privileged philosophers. his mother has made courtiers of them again; and he, who looks for everything from the magic arts, has never yet met a magian who could have been one of them." at this the syrian clapped his hands, exclaiming: "and you propose to use philip as your signbearer to talk to the emperor of a thaumaturgist who is hand in hand with all the learning of the museum? a cursed good idea! but the gem-cutter's son does not look like a simpleton; and he is a skeptic into the bargain, and believes in nothing. if you catch him, i shall really and truly believe in your miraculous powers." "there are harder things than catching him," said the magian. "you mean to break his will," said the syrian, looking down at the ground, "by your eye and the laying on of hands, as you did mine and triphis's two years ago?" "that, no doubt, formed the first bond between us," said serapion. "i now need only your ventriloquism. philip himself will come half-way to meet me on the main point." "and what is that?" "you called him a skeptic, and he does, in fact, pride himself on going further than the old masters of the school. diligent study has brought him to the point of regarding nothing as certain, but, on the other hand, everything as possible. the last result he can arrive at is the probability--since certainty there is none--that it is impossible ever to know anything, be it what it may. he is always ready to listen with sympathetic attention to the arguments for the reappearance of the souls of the dead in the earthly form they have quitted, to visit and converse with the living. he considers it a fallacy to say that anything is impossible; and my arguments are substantial. korinna will appear to him. castor has discovered a girl who is her very image. your arts will convince him that it is she who speaks to him, for he never heard her voice in life, and all this must rouse his desire to see her again and again. and thus the skeptic will be convinced, in spite of his own doctrine. in this, as in every other case, it is the passionate wish that gives rise to the belief." "and when you have succeeded in getting him to this point?" asked the syrian, anxiously. "then," replied the magian, "he will help me, with his triumphant dialectics, to win caesar over to the same conviction; and then we shall be able to satisfy the emperor's desire to hold intercourse with the dead; and for that i count on your power of making voices proceed from any person present." he said no more. the little man looked up at him approvingly, and said, modestly: "you are indeed wise, serapion, and i will do my best to help you. the next thing to be done is to seek representatives of the great alexander, of apollonius of tyana, and of caesar's brother, father-inlaw, and wife." "not forgetting papinian, the noblest of his victims," added the magian. "back again already, castor?" these words were addressed to a tall and apparently elderly man in a long white robe, who had slipped in without a sound. his demeanor was so grave and dignified that he looked precisely like a christian priest impressed with the sanctity of his office; but hardly had he got into the room, and greeted the magian with much unction, than he pulled the white garment off over his head, rubbed from his cheeks the lines which gave him twenty added years, stretched his lithe limbs, and exclaimed with delight: "i have got her! old dorothea will bring her to your theatre!"--and the young fellow's mobile face beamed with the happy radiance of success. it almost seemed as though fermenting wine flowed in the man's veins instead of blood; for, when he had made his report to the magian, and had been rewarded with a handful of gold-pieces, he tossed the coins in the air, caught them like flies in the hollow of his hand, and then pitched wheel fashion over head and heels from one end of the room to the other. then, when he stood on his feet once more, he went on, without a sign of breathlessness: "forgive me, my lord! nature asserts her rights. to play the pious for three whole hours! eternal gods, that is a hard task, and a man must--" "i know all about it," serapion broke in with a smile and a threatening finger. "now go and stretch your limbs, and then share your lightly earned gains with some pretty flute-player. but i want you again this evening; so, if you feel weak, i shall lock you up." "do," said castor, as earnestly as if he had been promised some pleasure. "what a merry, good-for-nothing set they are!-dorothea will bring the girl at the appointed hour. everything is arranged." whereupon he danced out of the room, singing a tune. "an invaluable creature!" said the syrian, with an admiring glance. "a better one spoiled," said serapion. "he has the very highest gifts, but is utterly devoid of conscience to set a limit to his excesses. how should he have one? his father was one of a troupe of ephesian pantomimists, and his mother a golden-haired cyprian dancer. but he knows every corner of alexandria--and then, what a memory! what an actor he would have made! without even a change of dress, merely by a grimace, he at once becomes an old man, an idiot, or a philosopher." "and what a genius for intrigue!" annianus went on enthusiastically. "as soon as he saw the portrait of korinna he knew that he had seen her double among the christians on the other side of the lake. this morning he tracked her out, and now she is caught in the snare. and how sharp of him to make dorothea bring her here!" "i told him to do that, and use the name of bishop demetrius," observed the magian. "she would not have come with a stranger, and dorothea must be known to her in the meetings of their congregation." chapter ix. while this conversation was taking place, melissa and her companion had reached the shore of the lake, the large inland sea which washed the southern side of the city and afforded anchorage for the nile-boats. the ferry-boat which would convey them to the gardens of polybius started from the agathodaemon canal, an enlarged branch of the nile, which connected the lake with the royal harbor and the mediterranean; they had, therefore, to walk some distance along the shore. the setting sun shot slanting rays on the glittering surface of the glassy waters in which the numberless masts of the nile-boats were mirrored. vessels large and small, with white or gayly-painted lateen sails gleaming in the evening glow, large galleys, light skiffs, and restless, skimming pleasure-boats, were flitting to and fro; and among them, like loaded wagons among chariots and horsemen, the low corn-barges scarcely seemed to move, piled as they were with pyramids of straw and grain as high as a house. the bustle on the quay was less conspicuous than usual, for all who were free to follow their curiosity had gone into the city. there were, however, many slaves, and caesar's visit no more affected their day's toil than it did the course of the sun. to-day, as every other day, they had to pack and unload; and though few ships were sailing, numbers were arriving from the south, and throwing out the landing-bridges which connected them with the shore. the number of pleasure-boats, on the other hand, was greater than usual; for business was suspended, and many who hated the crowd found pleasure in rowing in their own boats. others had come to see the imperial barge, which had been newly furnished up, and which was splendid enough to attract even the luxurious alexandrians. gold and ivory, purple sails, bronze and marble statues at the prow and stern, and in the little shrines on the after-deck, combined in a gorgeous display, made all the more brilliant by the low sun, which added vividness to every hue. it was pleasant to linger on the strand at this hour. spreading sycamores and plumed palms cast a pleasant shade; the heat of the day had abated, and a light air, which always blew in from the lake, fanned melissa's brow. there was no crushing mob, and no dust came up from the well-watered roadway, and yet the girl had lost her cheerful looks, in spite of the success of her bold venture; and andreas walked by her side, silent and ill-pleased. she could not understand him; for, as long as she could remember, his grave looks had always brightened at anything that had brought gladness to her or to her mother. besides, her success with the roman would be to the advantage of diodoros, and the freedman was devoted to him. every now and then she perceived that his eye rested on her with a compassionate expression, and when she inquired whether he were anxious about the sufferer, he gave her some evasive answer, quite unlike his usual decisive speech. this added to her alarm. at last his dissatisfied and unsatisfactory replies vexed the usually patient girl, and she told him so; for she could not suspect how painfully her triumph in her hasty deed jarred on her truth-loving friend. he knew that it was not to the great galenus, but to the wealthy serenus samonicus, that she had spoken; for the physician's noble and thoughtful features were familiar to him from medals, statues, and busts. he had seen samonicus, too, at antioch, and held his medical lore, as expressed in verse, very cheap. how worthless would this man's help be! in spite of his promise, diodoros would after all have to be conveyed to the serapeum; and yet andreas could not bear to crush his darling's hopes. he had hitherto known her as a patient, dutiful child; to-day he had seen with what unhesitating determination she could carry out a purpose; and he feared that, if he told her the truth, she would at once make her way into caesar's quarters, in defiance of every obstacle, to crave the assistance of the true galen. he must leave her in error, and yet he could not bear to do so, for there was no art in which he was so inexpert as that of deceit. how hard it was to find the right answer, when she asked him whether he did not hope everything from the great physician's intervention, or when she inquired what were the works to which galen owed his chief fame! as they came near to the landing-stage whence the ferry started, she wanted to know how old he should suppose the roman leech to be; and again he avoided answering, for galen was above eighty, and serenus scarcely seventy. she looked up at him with large, mournful eyes, saying, "have i offended you, or is there something you are concealing from me?" "what could you do to offend me?" he replied; "life is full of sorrows, my child. you must learn to have patience." "patience!" echoed melissa, sadly. "that is the only knowledge i have ever mastered. when my father is more sullen than you are, for a week at a time, i scarcely heed it. but when you look like that, andreas, it is not without cause, and that is why i am anxious." "one we love is very sick, child," he said, soothingly; but she was not to be put off so, and exclaimed with conviction: "no, no, it is not that. we have learned nothing fresh about diodoro-and you were ready enough to answer me when we came away from the christian's house. nothing but good has happened to us since, and yet you look as if the locusts had come down on your garden." they had reached a spot on the shore where a ship was being unloaded of its cargo of granite blocks from syene. black and brown slaves were dragging them to land. an old blind man was piping a dismal tune on a small reed flute to encourage them in their work, while two men of fairer hue, whose burden had been too heavy for them, had let the end of the column they were carrying sink on the ground, and were being mercilessly flogged by the overseer to make them once more attempt the impossible. andreas had watched the scene; a surge of fury had brought the blood to his face, and, stirred by great and genuine emotion, he broke out: "there--there you see the locusts which destroy my garden--the hail which ruins my crops! it falls on all that bears the name of humanity--on me and you. happy, girl? none of us can ever be happy till the kingdom shall arise for which the fullness of the time is come." "but they dropped the column; i saw them myself," urged melissa. "did you, indeed?" said andreas. "well, well, the whip, no doubt, can revive exhausted powers. and that is how you look upon such deeds!--you, who would not crush a worm in the garden, think this is right and just!" it suddenly struck melissa that andreas, too, had once been a slave, and the feeling that she had hurt him grieved her to the heart. she had often heard him speak sternly and gravely, but never in scorn as he did now, and that, too, distressed her; and as she could not think of the right thing to say in atonement for the wrong she had done, she could only look up with tearful entreaty and murmur, "forgive me!" "i have nothing to forgive," he replied in an altered tone. "you have grown up among the unjust who are now in power. how should you see more clearly than they, who all walk in darkness? but if the light should be shown to you by one to whom it hath been revealed, it would not be extinguished again.--does it not seem a beautiful thing to you to live among none but brethren and sisters, instead of among oppressors and their scourged victims; or is there no place in a woman's soul for the holy wrath that came upon moses the hebrew? but who would ever have spoken his great name to you?" melissa was about to interrupt his vehement speech, for, in a town where there were so many jews, alike among the citizens and the slaves, even she had heard that moses had been their lawgiver; but he prevented her, by adding hastily: "this only, child, i would have you remember--for here is the ferry--the worst ills that man ever inflicts on his fellow-man are the outcome of self-interest; and, of all the good he may do, the best is the result of his achieving self-forgetfulness to secure the happiness and welfare of others." he said no more, for the ferry-boat was about to put off, and they had to take their places as quickly as possible. the large flat barge was almost unoccupied; for the multitude still lingered in the town, and more than one seat was empty for the weary girl to rest on. andreas paced to and fro, for he was restless; but when melissa beckoned to him he came close to her, and, while he leaned against the little cabin, received her assurance that she now quite understood his desire to see all slaves made free. he, if any one, must know what the feelings of those unhappy creatures were. "do i not know!" he exclaimed, with a shake of the head. then, glancing round at the few persons who were sitting at the other end of the boat, he went on sadly: "to know that, a man must himself have been branded with the marks of his humiliation." he showed her his arm, which was usually hidden by the long sleeve of his tunic, and melissa exclaimed in sorrowful surprise: "but you were free-born! and none of our slaves bear such a brand. you must have fallen into the hands of syrian pirates." he nodded, and added, "i and my father." "but he," the girl eagerly put in, "was a great man." "till fate overtook him," andreas said. melissa's tearful eyes showed the warm sympathy she felt, as she asked: "but how could it have happened that you were not ransomed by your relations? your father was, no doubt, a roman citizen; and the law--" "the law forbids that such a one should be sold into slavery," andreas broke in, "and yet the authorities of rome left him in misery--left--" at this, her large, gentle eyes flashed with indignation, and, stirred to the depths of her nature, she exclaimed: "how was such horrible injustice possible? oh, let me hear. you know how truly i love you, and no one can hear you." the wind had risen, the waves splashed noisily against the broad boat, and the song of the slaves, as they plied their oars, would have drowned a stronger voice than the freedman's; so he sat down by her side to do her bidding. and the tale he had to tell was sad indeed. his father had been of knightly rank, and in the reign of marcus aurelius he had been in the service of avidius cassius, his fellow-countryman, the illustrious governor of asia as 'procurator ab epistolis'. as holding this high post, he found himself involved in the conspiracy of avidius against the emperor. after the assassination of his patron, who had already been proclaimed emperor by the troops, andreas's father had been deprived of his offices, his citizenship, and his honors; his possessions were confiscated, and he was exiled to the island of anaphe. it was to caesar's clemency that he owed his life. on their voyage into exile the father and son fell into the hands of syrian pirates, and were sold in the slave-market of alexandria to two separate masters. andreas was bought by a tavern-keeper; the procurator, whose name as a slave was smaragdus, by the father of polybius; and this worthy man soon learned to value his servant so highly, that he purchased the son also, and restored him to his father. thus they were once more united. every attempt of the man who had once held so proud a position to get his release, by an act of the senate, proved vain. it was with a broken heart and enfeebled health that he did his duty to his master and to his only child. he pined in torments of melancholy, till christianity opened new happiness to him, and revived hope brought him back from the very brink of despair; and, even as a slave, he found the highest of all dignities--that, namely, which a christian derives from his faith. at this point melissa interrupted her friend's narrative, exclaiming, as she pointed across the waters: "there! there! look! in that boat--i am sure that is alexander! and he is making for the town." andreas started up, and after convincing himself that she was indeed right, for the youth himself had recognized his sister, who waved her hand to him, he wrathfully exclaimed: "madman!" and by intelligible and commanding signs he ordered the reckless young artist to turn his little skiff, and follow in the wake of the ferry-boat, which was by this time nearing land. but alexander signaled a negative, and, after gayly blowing a kiss to melissa, plied his oars again with as much speed and energy as though he were rowing for a wager. how swiftly and steadily the keel of his little boat cut through the crisply foaming waves on which it rose and fell! the daring youth did not lack strength, that was certain, and the couple who watched him with so much uneasiness soon understood that he was striving to overtake another and larger bark which was at some distance in front of him. it was being pulled by slaves, whose stalwart arms made the pace a good one, and under the linen awning which shaded the middle part of it two women were seated. the rays of the sun, whose fiery globe was now sinking behind the palmgroves on the western shore, flooded the sky with ruby light, and tinged the white robes of these women, the light canopy over their heads, and the whole face of the lake, with a rosy hue; but neither andreas nor his companion heeded the glorious farewell of departing day. melissa pointed out to her friend the strangeness of her brother's attire, and the hood which, in the evening light, seemed to be bordered with gold. he had on, in fact, a gallic mantle, such as that which had gained caesar the nickname of caracalla, and there was in this disguise something to reassure them; for, if alexander pulled the hood low enough, it would hide the greater part of his face, and make it difficult to recognize him. whence he had procured this garment was not hard to divine, for imperial servants had distributed them in numbers among the crowd. caesar was anxious to bring them into fashion, and it might safely be expected that those alexandrians who had held out their hands to accept them would appear in them on the morrow, as no order required that they should be worn. alexander could not do better than wear one, if only by such means he could escape zminis and his men. but who were the women he was pursuing? before melissa could ask the question, andreas pointed to the foremost boat, and said: "those are christian women, and the bark they are in belongs to zeno, the brother of seleukus and of the high-priest of serapis. that is his landing-creek. he lives with his family, and those of the faith to whom he affords refuge, in the long, white house you can just see there among the palm-trees. those vineyards, too, are his. if i am not mistaken, one of the ladies in that boat is his daughter, agatha." "but what can alexander want of two christian women?" asked melissa. andreas fired up, and a vein started on his high forehead as he retorted angrily: "what should he not want! he and those who are like him--the blind-think nothing so precious as what satisfies the eye.--there! the brightness has vanished which turned the lake and the shore to gold. such is beauty!--a vain show, which only glitters to disappear, and is to fools, nevertheless, the supreme object of adoration!" "then, is zeno's daughter fair?" asked the girl. "she is said to be," replied the other; and after a moment's pause he added: "yes, agatha is a rarely accomplished woman; but i know better things of her than that. it stirs my gall to think that her sacred purity can arouse unholy thoughts. i love your brother dearly; for your mother's sake i can forgive him much; but if he tries to ensnare agatha--" "have no fear," said melissa, interrupting his wrathful speech. "alexander is indeed a butterfly, fluttering from flower to flower, and apt to be frivolous over serious matters, but at this moment he is enslaved by a vision--that of a dead girl; and only last night, i believe, he pledged himself to ino, the pretty daughter of our neighbor skopas. beauty is to him the highest thing in life; and how should it be otherwise, for he is an artist! for the sake of beauty he defies every danger. if you saw rightly, he is no doubt in pursuit of zeno's daughter, but most likely not to pay court to her, but for some other season." "no praiseworthy reason, you may be sure," said andreas. "here we are. now take your kerchief out of the basket. it is damp and cool after sundown, especially over there where i am draining the bog. the land we are reclaiming by this means will bring your future husband a fine income some day." they disembarked, and ere long reached the little haven belonging to polybius's estate. there were boats moored there, large and small, and andreas hailed the man who kept them, and who sat eating his supper, to ask him whether he had unmoored the green skiff for alexander. at this the old fellow laughed, and said: "the jolly painter and his friend, the sculptor, met zeno's daughter just as she was getting into her boat with mariamne. down they came, running as if they had gone mad. the girl must have turned their heads. my lord alexander would have it that he had seen the spirit of one who was dead, and he would gladly give his life to see her once again." it was now dark, or it would have alarmed melissa to see the ominous gravity with which andreas listened to this tale; but she herself was sufficiently startled, for she knew her brother well, and that no risk, however great, would stop him if his artistic fancy were fired. he, whom she had believed to be in safety, had gone straight into the hands of the pursuers; and with him caution and reflection were flown to the winds when passion held sway. she had hoped that her friend ino had at last captured the flutterer, and that he would begin to live a settled life with her, as master of a house of his own; and now, for a pretty face, he had thrown everything to the winds, even the duty of self-preservation. andreas had good reason to be angry, and he spoke no more till they reached their destination, a country house of handsome and important aspect. no father could have received his future daughter more heartily than did old polybius. the fiend gout racked his big toes, stabbing, burning, and nipping them. the slightest movement was torture, and yet he held out his arms to her for a loving embrace, and, though it made him shut his eyes and groan, he drew her pretty head down, and kissed her cheeks and hair. he was now a heavy man, of almost shapeless stoutness, but in his youth he must have resembled his handsome son. silvery locks flowed round his well-formed head, but a habit of drinking wine, which, in spite of the gout, he could not bring himself to give up, had flushed his naturally good features, and tinged them of a coppery red, which contrasted strangely with his snowy hair and beard. but a kind heart, benevolence, and a love of good living, beamed in every look. his heavy limbs moved but slowly, and if ever full lips deserved to be called sensual, they were those of this man, who was a priest of two divinities. how well his household understood the art of catering for his love of high living, was evident in the meal which was served soon after melissa's arrival, and to eat which the old man made her recline on the couch by his side. andreas also shared the supper; and not the attendant slaves only, but dame praxilla, the sister of their host, whose house she managed, paid him particular honor. she was a widow and childless, and, even during the lifetime of diodoros's mother, she had given her heart, no longer young, to the freedman, without finding her love returned or even observed. for his sake she would have become a christian, though she regarded herself as so indispensable to her brother that she had rarely left him to hold intercourse with other christians. nor did andreas encourage her; he doubted her vocation. whatever happened in the house, the excitable woman made it her own concern; and, although she had known melissa from childhood, and was as fond of her as she could be of the child of "strangers," the news that diodoros was to marry the gemcutter's daughter was displeasing to her. a second woman in the house might interfere with her supremacy; and, as an excuse for her annoyance, she had represented to her brother that diodoros might look higher for a wife. agatha, the beautiful daughter of their rich christian neighbor zeno, was the right bride for the boy. but polybius had rated her sharply, declaring that he hoped for no sweeter daughter than melissa, who was quite pretty enough, and in whose veins as pure macedonian blood flowed as in his own. his son need look for no wealth, he added with a laugh, since he would some day inherit his aunt's. in fact, praxilla owned a fine fortune, increasing daily under the care of andreas, and she replied: "if the young couple behave so well that i do not rather choose to bestow my pittance on worthier heirs." but the implied threat had not disturbed polybius, for he knew his sister's ways. the shriveled, irritable old lady often spoke words hard to be forgiven, but she had not a bad heart; and when she learned that diodoros was in danger, she felt only how much she loved him, and her proposal to go to the town next morning to nurse him was sincerely meant. but when her brother retorted: "go, by all means; i do not prevent you!" she started up, exclaiming: "and you, and your aches and pains! how you get on when once my back is turned, we know by experience. my presence alone is medicine to you." "and a bitter dose it is very often," replied the old man, with a laugh; but praxilla promptly retorted: "like all effectual remedies. there is your ingratitude again!" the last words were accompanied by a whimper, so polybius, who could not bear to see any but cheerful faces, raised his cup and drank her health with kindly words. then refilling the tankard, he poured a libation, and was about to empty it to melissa's health, but praxilla's lean frame was standing by his side as quickly as though a serpent had stung her. she was drawing a stick of asparagus between her teeth, but she hastily dropped it on her plate, and with both hands snatched the cup from her brother, exclaiming: "it is the fourth; and if i allow you to empty it, you are a dead man!" "death is not so swift," replied polybius, signing to a slave to bring him back the cup. but he drank only half of it, and, at his sister's pathetic entreaties, had more water mixed with the wine. and while praxilla carefully prepared his crayfish--for gout had crippled even his fingers--he beckoned to his white-haired body-slave, and with a cunning smile made him add more wine to the washy fluid. he fixed his twinkling glance on melissa, to invite her sympathy in his successful trick, but her appearance startled him. how pale the child was--how dejected and weary her sweet face, with the usually bright, expressive eyes! it needed not the intuition of his kind heart to tell him that she was completely exhausted, and he desired his sister to take her away to bed. but melissa was already sound asleep, and praxilla would not wake her. she gently placed a pillow under her head, laid her feet easily on the couch, and covered them with a wrap. polybius feasted his eyes on the fair sleeper; and, indeed, nothing purer and more tender can be imagined than the girl's face as she lay in dreamless slumber. the conversation was now carried on in subdued tones, so as not to disturb her, and andreas completed the history of the day by informing them that melissa had, by mistake, engaged the assistance not of the great galen but of another roman practiced in the healing art, but of less illustrious proficiency. he must, therefore, still have diodoros conveyed to the serapeum, and this could be done very easily in the morning, before the populace should again besiege the temple. he must forthwith go back to make the necessary arrangements. praxilla whispered tenderly: "devoted man that you are, you do not even get your night's rest." but andreas turned away to discuss some further matters with polybius; and, in spite of pain, the old man could express his views clearly and intelligently. at last he took his leave; and now praxilla had to direct the slaves who were to carry her brother to bed. she carefully arranged the cushions on his couch, and gave him his medicine and night-draught. then she returned to melissa, and the sight of the sleeping girl touched her heart. she stood gazing at her for some time in silence, and then bent over her to wake her with a kiss. she had at last made up her mind to regard the gem-cutter's daughter as her niece, so, determined to treat her as a child of her own, she called melissa by name. this awoke the sleeper, and when she had realized that she was still in polybius's eating-room, she asked for andreas. "he has gone back to the town, my child," replied praxilla. "he was anxious about your betrothed." "is he worse, then?" asked melissa, in alarm. "no, no," said the widow, soothingly. "it is only--i assure you we have heard nothing new--" "but what then?" melissa inquired. "the great galen is to see him early to-morrow." praxilla tried to divert her thoughts. but as the girl would take no answer to her declaration that galen himself had promised to see diodoros, praxilla, who was little used to self-command, and who was offended by her persistency, betrayed the fact that melissa had spoken to the wrong man, and that andreas was gone to remove diodoros to the serapeum. at this, melissa suddenly understood why andreas had not rejoiced with her, and at the same time she said to herself that her lover must on no account be exposed to so great a danger without her presence. she must lend her aid in transporting him to the serapeum; and when she firmly expressed her views to the widow, praxilla was shocked, and sincerely repented of having lost her self-control. it was far too late, and when the housekeeper came into the room and gladly volunteered to accompany melissa to the town, praxilla threatened to rouse her brother, that he might insist on their remaining at home; but at last she relented, for the girl, she saw, would take her own way against any opposition. the housekeeper had been nurse to diodoros, and had been longing to help in tending him. when she left the house with melissa, her eyes were moist with tears of joy and thankfulness. chapter x. the nubian boat-keeper and his boy had soon ferried them across the lake. melissa and her companion then turned off from the shore into a street which must surely lead into that where the christians dwelt. still, even as she went on, she began to be doubtful whether she had taken the right one; and when she came out by a small temple, which she certainly had not seen before, she knew not which way to go, for the streets here crossed each other in a perfect labyrinth, and she was soon obliged to confess to her companion that she had lost her road. in the morning she had trusted herself to andreas's knowledge of the town, and while talking eagerly to him had paid no heed to anything else. what was to be done? she stood meditating; and then she remembered the spot where she had seen caesar drive past. this she thought she could certainly recognize, and from thence make her way to the street she sought. it was quite easy to find the street of hermes, for the noise of the revelers, who were to-night even more numerous than usual in this busy highway, could be heard at a considerable distance. they must follow its guidance till they should come to the little temple of aphrodite; and that was a bold enterprise, for the crowd of men who haunted the spot at this hour might possibly hinder and annoy two unescorted women. however, the elder woman was sturdy and determined, and sixty years of age; while melissa feared nothing, and thought herself sufficiently protected when she had arranged her kerchief so as to hide her face from curious eyes. as she made her way to the wide street with a throbbing heart, but quite resolved to find the house she sought at any cost, she heard men's voices on a side street; however, she paid no heed to them, for how, indeed, could she guess that what they were saying could nearly concern her? the conversation was between a woman and a man in the white robe of a christian priest. they were standing at the door of a large house; and close to the wall, in the shadow of the porch of a building opposite, stood a youth, his hair covered by the hood of a long caracalla, listening with breathless attention. this was alexander. he had been standing here for some time already, waiting for the return of agatha, the fair christian whom he had followed across the lake, and who had vanished into that house under the guidance of a deaconess. the door had not long closed on them when several men had also been admitted, whom he could not distinguish in the darkness, for the street was narrow and the moon still low. it was sheer folly--and yet he fancied that one of them was his father, for his deep, loud voice was precisely like that of heron; and, what was even more strange, that of the man who answered him seemed to proceed from his brother philip. but, at such an hour, he could more easily have supposed them to be on the top of mount etna than in this quarter of the town. the impatient painter was very tired of waiting, so, seating himself on a feeding-manger for asses which stood in front of the adjoining house, he presently fell asleep. he was tired from the sleepless night he had last spent, and when he opened his eyes once more and looked down the street into which the moon was now shining, he did not know how long he had been slumbering. perhaps the damsel he wanted to see had already left the house, and he must see her again, cost him what it might; for she was so amazingly like the dead korinna whom he had painted, that he could not shake off the notion that perhaps--for, after serapion's discourse, it seemed quite likely--perhaps he had seen the spirit of the departed girl. he had had some difficulty in persuading glaukias, who had come across the lake with him, to allow him to follow up the fair vision unaccompanied; and his entreaties and prohibitions would probably alike have proved vain, but that glaukias held taken it into his head to show his latest work, which a slave was carrying, to some friends over a jar of wine. it was a caricature of caesar, whom he had seen at the kanopic gate, modeled while he was in the house of polybius, with a few happy touches. when alexander woke, he crept into the shadow of the porch opposite to the house into which korinna's double had disappeared, and he now had no lack of entertainment. a man came out of the tall white house and looked into the street, and the moonlight enabled the artist to see all that took place. the tall youth who had come to the door wore the robe of a christian priest. still, it struck alexander that he was too young for such a calling; and he soon detected that he was certainly not what he seemed, but that there was some treachery in the wind; for no sooner had a woman joined him, whom he evidently expected, than she blamed him for his want of caution. to this he laughingly replied that he was too hot in his disguise, and, pulling out a false beard, he showed it to the woman, who was dressed as a christian deaconess, exclaiming, "that will do it!" he went on to tell her, in a quick, low tone, much of which escaped the listener, that serapion had dared much that day, and that the performance had ended badly, for that the christian girl he had so cleverly persuaded to come from the other side of the lake had taken fright, and had insisted on knowing where she was. at this the deaconess seemed somewhat dismayed, and poured out endless questions in a low voice. he, however, cast all the blame on the philosopher, whom his master had got hold of the day before. then, as the woman desired more particular information, he briefly told her the story. the fair agatha, he said, after being invited by him, at noon, in the name of bishop demetrius, to a meeting that evening, had reached the ferryhouse at about sunset. she had been told that many things of immediate importance were to be announced to the maidens of the christian congregation; more especially, a discussion was to be held as to the order issued by the prefect for their taking part in a procession in caesar's honor when he should quit alexandria. old dorothea had met the girl at the ferry-house, and had brought her hither. the woman who had attended her across the lake was certainly none of the wisest, for dorothea had easily persuaded her to remain in her house during the meeting. "once there," the sham priest went on, "the girl's waiting-woman must have had some dose in wine or sirup and water, for she is fast asleep at this moment in the ferry-house, or wherever dorothea took her, as she could not be allowed to wake under dorothea's roof. "thus every one was out of the way who could make any mischief; and when the syrian, dressed as a christian priest, had explained to agatha what the patriarch required of his maidens, i led her on to the stage, on which the spectators were to see the ghosts through a small opening. "the syrian had desired her to put up so many and such prayers for the congregation in its peril from caesar; and, by aphrodite! she was as docile as a lamb. she fell on her knees, and with hands and eyes to heaven entreated her god. but hark! "did you hear anything? something is stirring within. well, i have nearly done. "the philosopher was to see her thus, and when he had gazed at her as if bewitched for some little time through the small window, he suddenly cried out, 'korinna! korinna!' and all sorts of nonsense, although serapion had strictly forbidden him to utter a sound. of course, the curtain instantly dropped. but agatha had heard him call, and in a great fright she wanted to know where she was, and asked to go home.--serapion was really grand. you should have heard how the fox soothed the dove, and at the same time whispered to me what you now are to do!" "i?" said the woman, with some annoyance. "if he thinks that i will risk my good name in the congregation for the sake of his long beard--" "just be quiet," said castor, in a pacifying tone. "the master's beard has nothing to do with the case, but something much more substantial. ten solidi, full weight, shall be yours if you will take agatha home with you, or safe across the lake again, and pretend to have saved her from mystics or magicians who have decoyed her to some evil end. she knows you as a christian deaconess, and will go with you at once. if you restore her to her father, he is rich, and will not send you empty away. tell him that you heard her voice out in the street, and with the help of a worthy old man--that am i--rescued her from any peril you may invent. if he asks you where the heroic deed was done, name any house you please, only not this. your best plan is to lay it all on the shoulders of hananja, the thaumaturgist; we have owed him a grudge this many a day. however, i was not to teach you any lesson, for your wits are at least a match for ours." "flattery will not win me," the woman broke in. "where is the gold?" castor handed her the solidi wrapped in a papyrus leaf, and then added: "stay one moment! i must remove this white robe. the girl must on no account recognize me. i am going to force my way into the house with you--you found me in the street, an old man, a total stranger, and appealed to me for help. no harm is done, nothing lost but dorothea's credit among the christians. we may have to get her safe out of the town. i must escort you and agatha, for nothing unpleasant must happen to her on the way home. the master is imperative on that point, and so much beauty will certainly not get through the crowded streets without remark. and for my part, i, of course, am thinking of yours." here castor laughed aloud, and rolled the white robe into a bundle. alexander peeped out of his nook and shook his head in amazement, for the supple youth, who a moment before stood stalwart and upright, had assumed, with a bent attitude and a long, white beard hastily placed on his chin, the aspect of a weary, poor old man. "i will give you a lesson!" muttered alexander to himself, and he shook his fist at the intriguing rascal as he vanished into the house with the false deaconess. so serapion was a cheat! and the supposed ghost of korinna was a christian maiden who was being shamefully deluded. but he would keep watch over her, and bring that laughing villain to account. the first aim of his life was not to lose sight of agatha. his whole happiness, he felt, depended on that. the gods had, as it were, raised her from the dead for him; in her, everything that he most admired was united; she was the embodiment of everything he cared for and prized; every feeling sank into the shade beside the one desire to make her his. she was, at this moment, the universe to him; and all else--the pursuers at his heels, his father, his sister, pretty ino, to whom he had vowed his love only the night before--had ceased to exist for him. possessed wholly by the thought of her, he never took his eyes off the door opposite; and when at last the maiden came out with the deaconess, whom she called elizabeth, and with castor, alexander followed the illmatched trio; and he had to be brisk, for at first they hurried through the streets as though they feared to be overtaken. he carefully kept close to the houses on the shady side, and when they presently stopped, so did he. the deaconess inquired of agatha whither she would be taken. but when the girl replied that she must go back to her own boat, waiting at the ferry, and return home, the deaconess represented that this was impossible by reason of the drunken seamen, who at this hour made the strand unsafe; she could only advise agatha to come home with her and remain till daybreak. "this kind old man," and she pointed to castor, "would no doubt go and tell the oarsmen that they were not to be uneasy at her absence." the two women stood talking in the broad moonlight, and the pale beams fell on agatha's beautiful unveiled features, giving them that unearthly, corpse-like whiteness which alexander had tried to represent in his picture of korinna. again the thought that she was risen from the dead sent a chill through his blood--that she would make him follow her, perhaps to the tomb she had quitted. he cared not! if his senses had cheated him--if,--in spite of what he had heard, that pale, unspeakably lovely image were indeed a lamia, a goblin shape from hecate's dark abode, yet would he follow wherever she might lead, as to a festival, only to be with her. agatha thanked the deaconess, and as she spoke raised her eyes to the woman's face; and they were two large, dark orbs sparkling through tears, and as unlike as possible to the eyes which a ghost might snatch from their sockets to fling like balls or stones in the face of a pursuer. oh, if only those eyes might look into his own as warmly and gratefully as they now gazed into the face of that treacherous woman! he had a hard struggle with himself to subdue the impulse to put an end, now and here, to the fiendish tricks which guile was playing on the purest innocence; but the street was deserted, and if he had to struggle with the bent old man, whose powerful and supple limbs he had already seen, and if the villain should plant a knife in his ribs--for as a wrestler he felt himself his match--agatha would be bereft of a protector and wholly in the deceiver's power. this, at any rate, must not be, and he even controlled himself when he heard the music of her words, and saw her grasp the hand of the pretended graybeard, who, with an assumption of paternal kindness, dared to kiss her hair, and then helped her to draw her kerchief over her face. the street of hermes, he explained, where the deaconess dwelt, was full of people, and the divine gift of beauty, wherewith heaven had blessed her, would attract the baser kind, as a flame attracts bats and moths. the hypocrite's voice was full of unction; the deaconess spoke with pious gravity. he could see that she was a woman of middle age, and he asked himself with rising fury whether the gods were not guilty who had lent mean wretches like these such winning graces as to enable them to lay traps for the guileless? for, in fact, the woman's face was wellfavored, gentle, and attractive. alexander never took his gaze off agatha, and his artist-eye reveled in her elastic step and her slender, shapely form. above all, he was bewitched by the way her head was set, with a little forward bend; and as long as the way led through the silent lanes he was never weary of comparing her with lovely images-with a poppy, whose flower bows the stem; with a willow, whose head leans over the water; with the huntress artemis, who, chasing in the moonlight, bends to mark the game. thus, unwearied and unseen, he had followed them as far as the street of hermes; there his task became more difficult, for the road was swarming with people. the older men were walking in groups of five or six, going to or coming from some evening assembly, and talking as they walked; or priests and temple servants on their way home, tired from night services and ceremonies; but the greater number were young men and boys, some wearing wreaths, and all more or less intoxicated, with street-wenches on the lookout for a companion or surrounded by suitors, and trying to attract a favorite or dismiss the less fortunate. the flare of the torches which illuminated the street was mirrored in eager eyes glowing with wine and passion, and in the glittering weapons of the roman soldiery. most of these were attached to caesar's train. as in the field, so in the peaceful town, they aimed at conquest, and many a greek sulkily resigned his claims to some fickle beauty in favor of an irresistible tribune or centurion. where the courteous alexandrians made way, they pushed in or thrust aside whatever came in their path, securely confident of being caesar's favorite protectors, and unassailable while he was near. their coarse, barbaric tones shook the air, and reduced the greeks to silence; for, even in his drunken and most reckless moods, the greek never lost his subtle refinement. the warriors rarely met a friendly glance from the eye of a native; still, the gold of these lavish revelers was as welcome to the women as that of a fellow-countryman. the blaze of light shone, too, on many a fray, such as flared up in an instant whenever greek and roman came into contact. the lictors and townwatch could generally succeed in parting the combatants, for the orders of the authorities were that they should in every case side with the romans. the shouts and squabbling of men, the laughing and singing of women, mingled with the word of command. flutes and lyres, cymbals and drums, were heard from the trellised tavern arbors and cook-shops along the way; and from the little temple to aphrodite, where melissa had promised to meet the roman physician next morning, came the laughter and song of unbridled lovers. as a rule, the kanopic way was the busiest and gayest street in the town; but on this night the street of hermes had been the most popular, for it led to the serapeum, where caesar was lodged; and from the temple poured a tide of pleasure-seekers, mingling with the flood of humanity which streamed on to catch a glimpse of imperial splendor, or to look at the troops encamped on the space in front of the serapeum. the whole street was like a crowded fair; and alexander had several times to follow agatha and her escort out into the roadway, quitting the shelter of the arcade, to escape a party of rioters or the impertinent addresses of strangers. the sham old man, however, was so clever at making way for the damsel, whose face and form were effectually screened by her kerchief from the passers-by, that alexander had no opportunity for offering her his aid, or proving his devotion by some gallant act. that it was his duty to save her from the perils of spending a whole night under the protection of this venal deceiver and her worthless colleague, he had long since convinced himself; still, the fear of bringing her into a more painful position by attracting the attention of the crowd if he were to attack her escort, kept him back. they had now stopped again under the colonnade, on the left-hand side of the road. castor had taken the girl's hand, and, as he bade her goodnight, promised, in emphatic tones, to be with her again very early and escort her to the lake. agatha thanked him warmly. at this a storm of rage blew alexander's self-command to the four winds, and, before he knew what he was doing; he stood between the rascal and the christian damsel, snatched their hands asunder, gripping castor's wrist with his strong right hand, while he held agatha's firmly in his left, and exclaimed: "you are being foully tricked, fair maid; the woman, even, is deceiving you. this fellow is a base villain!" and, releasing the arm which castor was desperately but vainly trying to free from his clutch, he snatched off the false beard. agatha, who had also been endeavoring to escape from his grasp, gave a shriek of terror and indignation. the unmasked rogue, with a swift movement, snatched the hood of the caracalla off alexander's head, flew at his throat with the fury and agility of a panther, and with much presence of mind called for help. and castor was strong too while alexander tried to keep him off with his right hand, holding on to agatha with his left, the shouts of the deaconess and her accomplice soon collected a crowd. they were instantly surrounded by an inquisitive mob, laughing or scolding the combatants, and urging them to fight or beseeching them to separate. but just as the artist had succeeded in twisting his opponent's wrist so effectually as to bring him to his knees, a loud voice of malignant triumph, just behind him, exclaimed: "now we have snared our scoffer! the fox should not stop to kill the hare when the hunters are at his heels!" "zminis!" gasped alexander. he understood in a flash that life and liberty were at stake. like a stag hemmed in by dogs, he turned his head to this side and that, seeking a way of escape; and when he looked again where his antagonist had stood, the spot was clear; the nimble rascal had taken to his heels and vanished among the throng. but a pair of eyes met the painter's gaze, which at once restored him to self-possession, and reminded him that he must collect his wits and presence of mind. they were those of his sister melissa, who, as she made her way onward with her companion, had recognized her brother's voice. in spite of the old woman's earnest advice not to mix in the crowd, she had pushed her way through, and, as the men-at-arms dispersed the mob, she came nearer to her favorite but too reckless brother. alexander still held agatha's hand. the poor girl herself, trembling with terror, did not know what had befallen her. her venerable escort was a young man--a liar. what was she to think of the deaconess, who was his confederate; what of this handsome youth who had unmasked the deceiver, and saved her perhaps from some fearful fate? as in a thunder-storm flash follows flash, so, in this dreadful night, one horror had followed another, to bewilder the brain of a maiden who had always lived a quiet life among good and quiet men and women. and now the guardians of the peace had laid hands on the man who had so bravely taken her part, and whose bright eyes had looked into her own with such truth and devotion. he was to be dragged to prison; so he, too, no doubt, was a criminal. at this thought she tried to release her hand, but he would not let it go; for the deaconess had come close to agatha, and, in a tone of sanctimonious wrath, desired her to quit this scene. what was she to do? terrified and undecided, with deceit on one hand and on the other peril and perhaps disaster, she looked first at elizabeth and then at alexander, who, in spite of the threats of the man-at-arms, gazed in turns at her and at the spot where his sister had stood. the lictors who were keeping off the mob had stopped melissa too; but while alexander had been gazing into agatha's imploring eyes, feeling as though all his blood had rushed to his heart and face, melissa had contrived to creep up close to him. and again the sight of her gave him the composure he so greatly needed. he knew, indeed, that the hand which still held agatha's would in a moment be fettered, for zminis had ordered his slaves to bring fresh ropes and chains, since they had already found use for those they had first brought out. it was to this circumstance alone that he owed it that he still was free. and, above all things, he must warn agatha against the deaconess, who would fain persuade her to go with her. it struck his alert wit that agatha would trust his sister rather than himself, whom the egyptian had several times abused as a criminal; and seeing the old woman of polybius's household making her way up to melissa, out of breath, indeed, and with disordered hair, he felt light dawn on his soul, for this worthy woman was a fresh instrument to his hand. she must know agatha well, if the girl were indeed the daughter of zeno. he lost not an instant. with swift decision, while zminis and his men were disputing as to whither they should conduct the traitor as soon as the fetters were brought, he released the maiden's hand, placing it in melissa's, and exclaiming: "this is my sister, the betrothed of diodoros, polybius's son--your neighbor, if you are the daughter of zeno. she will take care of you." agatha had at once recognized the old nurse, and when she confirmed alexander's statement, and the christian looked in melissa's face, she saw beyond the possibility of doubt an innocent woman, whose heart she might fully trust. she threw her arm round melissa, as if to lean on her, and the deaconess turned away with well-curbed wrath and vanished into an open door. all this had occupied but a very few minutes; and when alexander saw the two beings he most loved in each other's embrace, and agatha rescued from the deceiver and in safe keeping, he drew a deep breath, saying to his sister, as if relieved from a heavy burden: "her name is agatha, and to her, the image of the dead korinna, my life henceforth is given. tell her this, melissa." his impassioned glance sought that of the christian; and when she returned it, blushing, but with grateful candor, his mirthful features beamed with the old reckless jollity, and he glanced again at the crowd about him. what did he see there? melissa observed that his whole face was suddenly lighted up; and when zminis signed to the man who was making his way to the spot holding up the rope, alexander began to sing the first words of a familiar song. in an instant it was taken up by several voices, and then, as if from an echo, by the whole populace. it was the chant by which the lads in the gymnasium of timagetes were wont to call on each other for help when they had a fray with those of the gymnasium of the dioscuri, with whom they had a chronic feud. alexander had caught sight of his friends jason and pappus, of the sculptor glaukias, and of several other fellow-artists; they understood the appeal, and, before the night-watch could use the rope on their captive, the troop of young men had forced their way through the circle of armed men under the leadership of glaukias, had surrounded alexander, and run off with him in their midst, singing and shouting. "follow him! catch him! stop him!--living or dead, bring him back! a price is on his head--a splendid price to any one who will take him!" cried the egyptian, foaming with rage and setting the example. but the youth of the town, many of whom knew the artist, and who were at all times ready to spoil sport for the sycophants and spies, crowded up between the fugitive and his pursuers and barred the way. the lictors and their underlings did indeed, at last, get through the solid wall of shouting and scolding men and women; but by that time the troop of artists had disappeared down a side street. etext editor's bookmarks: force which had compelled every one to do as his neighbors it is the passionate wish that gives rise to the belief this ebook was produced by david widger <widger@cecomet.net> [note: there is a short list of bookmarks, or pointers, at the end of the file for those who may wish to sample the author's ideas before making an entire meal of them. d.w.] uarda volume 7. by georg ebers chapter xxix. at last the pioneer's boat got off with his mother and the body of the dog, which he intended to send to be embalmed at kynopolis, the city in which the dog was held sacred above all animals; [kynopolis, or in old egyptian saka, is now samalut; anubis was the chief divinity worshipped there. plutarch relates a quarrel between the inhabitants of this city, and the neighboring one of oxyrynchos, where the fish called oxyrynchos was worshipped. it began because the kynopolitans eat the fish, and in revenge the oxyrynchites caught and killed dogs, and consumed them in sacrifices. juvenal relates a similar story of the ombites--perhaps koptites--and pentyrites in the 15th satire.] paaker himself returned to the house of seti, where, in the night which closed the feast day, there was always a grand banquet for the superior priests of the necropolis and of the temples of eastern thebes, for the representatives of other foundations, and for select dignitaries of the state. his father had never failed to attend this entertainment when he was in thebes, but he himself had to-day for the first time received the muchcoveted honor of an invitation, which--ameni told him when he gave it--he entirely owed to the regent. his mother had tied up his hand, which rameri had severely hurt; it was extremely painful, but he would not have missed the banquet at any cost, although he felt some alarm of the solemn ceremony. his family was as old as any in egypt, his blood purer than the king's, and nevertheless he never felt thoroughly at home in the company of superior people. he was no priest, although a scribe; he was a warrior, and yet he did not rank with royal heroes. he had been brought up to a strict fulfilment of his duty, and he devoted himself zealously to his calling; but his habits of life were widely different from those of the society in which he had been brought up-a society of which his handsome, brave, and magnanimous father had been a chief ornament. he did not cling covetously to his inherited wealth, and the noble attribute of liberality was not strange to him, but the coarseness of his nature showed itself most when he was most lavish, for he was never tired of exacting gratitude from those whom he had attached to him by his gifts, and he thought he had earned the right by his liberality to meet the recipient with roughness or arrogance, according to his humor. thus it happened that his best actions procured him not friends but enemies. paaker's was, in fact, an ignoble, that is to say, a selfish nature; to shorten his road he trod down flowers as readily as he marched over the sand of the desert. this characteristic marked him in all things, even in his outward demeanor; in the sound of his voice, in his broad features, in the swaggering gait of his stumpy figure. in camp he could conduct himself as he pleased; but this was not permissible in the society of his equals in rank; for this reason, and because those faculties of quick remark and repartee, which distinguished them, had been denied to him, he felt uneasy and out of his element when he mixed with them, and he would hardly have accepted ameni's invitation, if it had not so greatly flattered his vanity. it was already late; but the banquet did not begin till midnight, for the guests, before it began, assisted at the play which was performed by lamp and torch-light on the sacred lake in the south of the necropolis, and which represented the history of isis and osiris. when he entered the decorated hall in which the tables were prepared, he found all the guests assembled. the regent ani was present, and sat on ameni's right at the top of the centre high-table at which several places were unoccupied; for the prophets and the initiated of the temple of amon had excused themselves from being present. they were faithful to rameses and his house; their grey-haired superior disapproved of ameni's severity towards the prince and princess, and they regarded the miracle of the sacred heart as a malicious trick of the chiefs of the necropolis against the great temple of the capital for which rameses had always shown a preference. the pioneer went up to the table, where sat the general of the troops that had just returned victorious from ethiopia, and several other officers of high rank, there was a place vacant next to the general. paaker fixed his eyes upon this, but when he observed that the officer signed to the one next to him to come a little nearer, the pioneer imagined that each would endeavor to avoid having him for his neighbor, and with an angry glance he turned his back on the table where the warriors sat. the mohar was not, in fact, a welcome boon-companion. "the wine turns sour when that churl looks at it," said the general. the eyes of all the guests turned on paaker, who looked round for a seat, and when no one beckoned him to one he felt his blood begin to boil. he would have liked to leave the banqueting hall at once with a swingeing curse. he had indeed turned towards the door, when the regent, who had exchanged a few whispered words with ameni, called to him, requested him to take the place that had been reserved for him, and pointed to the seat by his side, which had in fact been intended for the high-priest of the temple of amon. paaker bowed low, and took the place of honor, hardly daring to look round the table, lest he should encounter looks of surprise or of mockery. and yet he had pictured to himself his grandfather assa, and his father, as somewhere near this place of honor, which had actually often enough been given up to them. and was he not their descendant and heir? was not his mother setchem of royal race? was not the temple of seti more indebted to him than to any one? a servant laid a garland of flowers round his shoulders, and another handed him wine and food. then he raised his eyes, and met the bright and sparkling glance of gagabu; he looked quickly down again at the table. then the regent spoke to him, and turning to the other guests mentioned that paaker was on the point of starting next day for syria, and resuming his arduous labors as mohar. it seemed to paaker that the regent was excusing himself for having given him so high a place of honor. presently ani raised his wine-cup, and drank to the happy issue of his reconnoitring-expedition, and a victorious conclusion to every struggle in which the mohar might engage. the high-priest then pledged him, and thanked him emphatically in the name of the brethren of the temple, for the noble tract of arable land which he had that morning given them as a votive offering. a murmur of approbation ran round the tables, and paaker's timidity began to diminish. he had kept the wrappings that his mother had applied round his still aching hand. "are you wounded?" asked the regent. "nothing of importance," answered the pioneer. "i was helping my mother into the boat, and it happened--" "it happened," interrupted an old school-fellow of the mohar's, who himself held a high appointment as officer of the city-watch of thebes-"it happened that an oar or a stake fell on his fingers." "is it possible!" cried the regent. "and quite a youngster laid hands on him," continued the officer. "my people told me every detail. first the boy killed his dog--" "that noble descher?" asked the master of the hunt in a tone of regret. "your father was often by my side with that dog at a boar-hunt." paaker bowed his head; but the officer of the watch, secure in his position and dignity, and taking no notice of the glow of anger which flushed paaker's face, began again: "when the hound lay on the ground, the foolhardy boy struck your dagger out of your hand." "and did this squabble lead to any disturbance?" asked ameni earnestly. "no," replied the officer. "the feast has passed off to-day with unusual quiet. if the unlucky interruption to the procession by that crazy paraschites had not occurred, we should have nothing but praise for the populace. besides the fighting priest, whom we have handed over to you, only a few thieves have been apprehended, and they belong exclusively to the caste, [according to diodorous (i. 80) there was a cast of thieves in thebes. all citizens were obliged to enter their names in a register, and state where they lived, and the thieves did the same. the names were enrolled by the "chief of the thieves," and all stolen goods had to be given up to him. the person robbed had to give a written description of the object he had lost, and a declaration as to when and where he had lost it. the stolen property was then easily recovered, and restored to the owner on the payment of one fourth of its value, which was given to the thief. a similar state of things existed at cairo within a comparatively short time.] so we simply take their booty from them, and let them go. but say, paaker, what devil of amiability took possession of you down by the river, that you let the rascal escape unpunished." "did you do that?" exclaimed gagabu. "revenge is usually your--" ameni threw so warning a glance at the old man, that he suddenly broke off, and then asked the pioneer: "how did the struggle begin, and who was the fellow?" "some insolent people," said paaker, "wanted to push in front of the boat that was waiting for my mother, and i asserted my rights. the rascal fell upon me, and killed my dog and--by my osirian father!--the crocodiles would long since have eaten him if a woman had not come between us, and made herself known to me as bent-anat, the daughter of rameses. it was she herself, and the rascal was the young prince rameri, who was yesterday forbidden this temple." "oho!" cried the old master of the hunt. "oho! my lord! is this the way to speak of the children of the king?" others of the company who were attached to pharaoh's family expressed their indignation; but ameni whispered to paaker--"say no more!" then he continued aloud: "you never were careful in weighing your words, my friend, and now, as it seems to me, you are speaking in the heat of fever. come here, gagabu, and examine paaker's wound, which is no disgrace to him--for it was inflicted by a prince." the old man loosened the bandage from the pioneer's swollen hand. "that was a bad blow," he exclaimed; "three fingers are broken, and--do you see?--the emerald too in your signet ring." paaker looked down at his aching fingers, and uttered a sigh of rehef, for it was not the oracular ring with the name of thotmes iii., but the valuable one given to his father by the reigning king that had been crushed. only a few solitary fragments of the splintered stone remained in the setting; the king's name had fallen to pieces, and disappeared. paaker's bloodless lips moved silently, and an inner voice cried out to him: "the gods point out the way! the name is gone, the bearer of the name must follow." "it is a pity about the ring," said gagabu. "and if the hand is not to follow it--luckily it is your left hand--leave off drinking, let yourself be taken to nebsecht the surgeon, and get him to set the joints neatly, and bind them up." paaker rose, and went away after ameni had appointed to meet him on the following day at the temple of seti, and the regent at the palace. when the door had closed behind him, the treasurer of the temple said: "this has been a bad day for the mohar, and perhaps it will teach him that here in thebes he cannot swagger as he does in the field. another adventure occurred to him to-day; would you like to hear it?" "yes; tell it!" cried the guests. "you all knew old seni," began the treasurer. "he was a rich man, but he gave away all his goods to the poor, after his seven blooming sons, one after another, had died in the war, or of illness. he only kept a small house with a little garden, and said that as the gods had taken his children to themselves in the other world he would take pity on the forlorn in this. 'feed the hungry, give drink to the thirsty, clothe the naked' says the law; and now that seni has nothing more to give away, he goes through the city, as you know, hungry and thirsty himself, and scarcely clothed, and begging for his adopted children, the poor. we have all given to him, for we all know for whom he humbles himself, and holds out his hand. to-day he went round with his little bag, and begged, with his kind good eyes, for alms. paaker has given us a good piece of arable land, and thinks, perhaps with reason, that he has done his part. when seni addressed him, he told him to go; but the old man did not give up asking him, he followed him persistently to the grave of his father, and a great many people with him. then the pioneer pushed him angrily back, and when at last the beggar clutched his garment, he raised his whip, and struck him two or three times, crying out: 'therethat is your portion!' the good old man bore it quite patiently, while he untied the bag, and said with tears in his eyes: 'my portion--yes-but not the portion of the poor!' "i was standing near, and i saw how paaker hastily withdrew into the tomb, and how his mother setchem threw her full purse to seni. others followed her example, and the old man never had a richer harvest. the poor may thank the mohar! a crowd of people collected in front of the tomb, and he would have fared badly if it had not been for the police guard who drove them away." during this narrative, which was heard with much approval--for no one is more secure of his result than he who can tell of the downfall of a man who is disliked for his arrogance--the regent and the high-priest had been eagerly whispering to each other. "there can be no doubt," said ameni, that bent-anat did actually come to the festival." "and had also dealings with the priest whom you so warmly defend," whispered the other. "pentaur shall be questioned this very night," returned the highpriest. "the dishes will soon be taken away, and the drinking will begin. let us go and hear what the poet says." "but there are now no witnesses," replied ani. "we do not need them," said ameni. "he is incapable of a lie." "let us go then," said the regent smiling, "for i am really curious about this white negro, and how he will come to terms with the truth. you have forgotten that there is a woman in the case." "that there always is!" answered ameni; he called gagabu to him, gave him his seat, begged him to keep up the flow of cheerful conversation, to encourage the guests to drink, and to interrupt all talk of the king, the state, or the war. "you know," he concluded, "that we are not by ourselves this evening. wine has, before this, betrayed everything! remember this--the mother of foresight looks backwards!" ani clapped his hand on the old man's shoulder. "there will be a space cleared to-night in your winelofts. it is said of you that you cannot bear to see either a full glass or an empty one; to-night give your aversion to both free play. and when you think it is the right moment, give a sign to my steward, who is sitting there in the corner. he has a few jars of the best liquor from byblos, that he brought over with him, and he will bring it to you. i will come in again and bid you goodnight." ameni was accustomed to leave the hall at the beginning of the drinking. when the door was closed behind him and his companion, when fresh rosegarlands had been brought for the necks of the company, when lotus blossoms decorated their heads, and the beakers were refilled, a choir of musicians came in, who played on harps, lutes, flutes, and small drums. the conductor beat the time by clapping his hands, and when the music had raised the spirits of the drinkers, they seconded his efforts by rhythmical clippings. the jolly old gagabu kept up his character as a stout drinker, and leader of the feast. the most priestly countenances soon beamed with cheerfulness, and the officers and courtiers outdid each other in audacious jokes. then the old man signed to a young temple-servant, who wore a costly wreath; he came forward with a small gilt image of a mummy, carried it round the circle and cried: "look at this, be merry and drink so long as you are on earth, for soon you must be like this." [a custom mentioned by herodotus. lucian saw such an image brought in at a feast. the greeks adopted the idea, but beautified it, using a winged genius of death instead of a mummy. the romans also had their "larva."] gagabu gave another signal, and the regent's steward brought in the wine from byblos. ani was much lauded for the wonderful choiceness of the liquor. "such wine," exclaimed the usually grave chief of the pastophori, "is like soap." [this comparison is genuinely eastern. kisra called wine "the soap of sorrow." the mohammedans, to whom wine is forbidden, have praised it like the guests of the house of seti. thus abdelmalik ibn salih haschimi says: "the best thing the world enjoys is wine." gahiz says: "when wine enters thy bones and flows through thy limbs it bestows truth of feeling, and perfects the soul; it removes sorrow, elevates the mood, etc., etc." when ibn 'aischah was told that some one drank no wine, he said: "he has thrice disowned the world." ibn el mu'tazz sang: "heed not time, how it may linger, or how swiftly take its flight, wail thy sorrows only to the wine before thee gleaming bright. but when thrice thou st drained the beaker watch and ward keep o'er thy heart. lest the foam of joy should vanish, and thy soul with anguish smart, this for every earthly trouble is a sovereign remedy, therefore listen to my counsel, knowing what will profit thee, heed not time, for ah, how many a man has longed in pain tale of evil days to lighten--and found all his longing vain." --translated by mary j. safford.] "what a simile!" cried gagabu. "you must explain it." "it cleanses the soul of sorrow," answered the other. "good, friend!" they all exclaimed. "now every one in turn shall praise the noble juice in some worthy saying." "you begin--the chief prophet of the temple of atnenophis." "sorrow is a poison," said the priest, "and wine is the antidote." "well said!--go on; it is your turn, my lord privy councillor." "every thing has its secret spring," said the official, "and wine is the secret of joy." "now you, my lord keeper of the seal." "wine seals the door on discontent, and locks the gates on sorrow." "that it does, that it certainly does!--now the governor of hermothis, the oldest of all the company." "wine ripens especially for us old folks, and not for you young people." "that you must explain," cried a voice from the table of the military officers. "it makes young men of the old," laughed the octogenarian, "and children of the young." "he has you there, you youngsters," cried gagabu. "what have you to say, septah?" "wine is a poison," said the morose haruspex, "for it makes fools of wise men." "then you have little to fear from it, alas!" said gagabu laughing. "proceed, my lord of the chase." "the rim of the beaker," was the answer, "is like the lip of the woman you love. touch it, and taste it, and it is as good as the kiss of a bride." "general--the turn is yours." "i wish the nile ran with such wine instead of with water," cried the soldier, "and that i were as big as the colossus of atnenophis, and that the biggest obelisk of hatasu were my drinking vessel, and that i might drink as much as i would! but now--what have you to say of this noble liquor, excellent gagabu?" the second prophet raised his beaker, and gazed lovingly at the golden fluid; he tasted it slowly, and then said with his eyes turned to heaven: "i only fear that i am unworthy to thank the gods for such a divine blessing." "well said!" exclaimed the regent ani, who had re-entered the room unobserved. "if my wine could speak, it would thank you for such a speech." "hail to the regent ani!" shouted the guests, and they all rose with their cups filled with his noble present. he pledged them and then rose. "those," said he, "who have appreciated this wine, i now invite to dine with me to-morrow. you will then meet with it again, and if you still find it to your liking, you will be heartily welcome any evening. now, good night, friends." a thunder of applause followed him, as he quitted the room. the morning was already grey, when the carousing-party broke up; few of the guests could find their way unassisted through the courtyard; most of them had already been carried away by the slaves, who had waited for them--and who took them on their heads, like bales of goods--and had been borne home in their litters; but for those who remained to the end, couches were prepared in the house of seti, for a terrific storm was now raging. while the company were filling and refilling the beakers, which raised their spirits to so wild a pitch, the prisoner pentaur had been examined in the presence of the regent. ameni's messenger had found the poet on his knees, so absorbed in meditation that he did not perceive his approach. all his peace of mind had deserted him, his soul was in a tumult, and he could not succeed in obtaining any calm and clear control over the new life-pulses which were throbbing in his heart. he had hitherto never gone to rest at night without requiring of himself an account of the past day, and he had always been able to detect the most subtle line that divided right from wrong in his actions. but to-night he looked back on a perplexing confusion of ideas and events, and when he endeavored to sort them and arrange them, he could see nothing clearly but the image of bent-anat, which enthralled his heart and intellect. he had raised his hand against his fellow-men, and dipped it in blood, he desired to convince himself of his sin, and to repent but he could not; for each time he recalled it, to blame and condemn himself, he saw the soldier's hand twisted in uarda's hair, and the princess's eyes beaming with approbation, nay with admiration, and he said to himself that he had acted rightly, and in the same position would do the same again to-morrow. still he felt that he had broken through all the conditions with which fate had surrounded his existence, and it seemed to him that he could never succeed in recovering the still, narrow, but peaceful life of the past. his soul went up in prayer to the almighty one, and to the spirit of the sweet humble woman whom he had called his mother, imploring for peace of mind and modest content; but in vain--for the longer he remained prostrate, flinging up his arms in passionate entreaty, the keener grew his longings, the less he felt able to repent or to recognize his guilt. ameni's order to appear before him came almost as a deliverance, and he followed the messenger prepared for a severe punishment; but not afraid --almost joyful. in obedience to the command of the grave high-priest, pentaur related the whole occurrence--how, as there was no leech in the house, he had gone with the old wife of the paraschites to visit her possessed husband; how, to save the unhappy girl from ill-usage by the mob, he had raised his hand in fight, and dealt indeed some heavy blows. "you have killed four men," said ameni, "and severely wounded twice as many. why did you not reveal yourself as a priest, as the speaker of the morning's discourse? why did you not endeavor to persuade the people with words of warning, rather than with brute force?" "i had no priest's garment," replied pentaur. "there again you did wrong," said ameni, "for you know that the law requires of each of us never to leave this house without our white robes. but you cannot pretend not to know your own powers of speech, nor to contradict me when i assert that, even in the plainest working-dress, you were perfectly able to produce as much effect with words as by deadly blows!" "i might very likely have succeeded," answered pentaur, "but the most savage temper ruled the crowd; there was no time for reflection, and when i struck down the villain, like some reptile, who had seized the innocent girl, the lust of fighting took possession of me. i cared no more for my own life, and to save the child i would have slain thousands." "your eyes sparkle," said ameni, "as if you had performed some heroic feat; and yet the men you killed were only unarmed and pious citizens, who were roused to indignation by a gross and shameless outrage. i cannot conceive whence the warrior-spirit should have fallen on a gardener's son--and a minister of the gods." "it is true," answered pentaur, "when the crowd rushed upon me, and i drove them back, putting out all my strength, i felt something of the warlike rage of the soldier, who repulses the pressing foe from the standard committed to his charge. it was sinful in a priest, no doubt, and i will repent of it--but i felt it." "you felt it--and you will repent of it, well and good," replied ameni. "but you have not given a true account of all that happened. why have you concealed that bent-anat--rameses' daughter--was mixed up in the fray, and that she saved you by announcing her name to the people, and commanding them to leave you alone? when you gave her the lie before all the people, was it because you did not believe that it was bent-anat? now, you who stand so firmly on so high a platform--now you standardbearer of the truth answer me." pentaur had turned pale at his master's words, and said, as he looked at the regent: "we are not alone." "truth is one!" said ameni coolly. "what ycu can reveal to me, can also be heard by this noble lord, the regent of the king himself. did you recognize bent-anat, or not?" "the lady who rescued me was like her, and yet unlike," answered the poet, whose blood was roused by the subtle irony of his superior's words. "and if i had been as sure that she was the princess, as i am that you are the man who once held me in honor, and who are now trying to humiliate me, i would all the more have acted as i did to spare a lady who is more like a goddess than a woman, and who, to save an unworthy wretch like me, stooped from a throne to the dust." "still the poet--the preacher!" said ameni. then he added severely. "i beg for a short and clear an swer. we know for certain that the princess took part in the festival in the disguise of a woman of low rank, for she again declared herself to paaker; and we know that it was she who saved you. but did you know that she meant to come across the nile?" "how should i?" asked pentaur. "well, did you believe that it was bent-anat whom you saw before you when she ventured on to the scene of conflict?" "i did believe it," replied pentaur; he shuddered and cast down his eyes. "then it was most audacious to drive away the king's daughter as an impostor." "it was," said pentaur. "but for my sake she had risked the honor of her name, and that of her royal father, and i--i should not have risked my life and freedom for--" "we have heard enough," interrupted ameni. "not so," the regent interposed. "what became of the girl you had saved?" "an old witch, hekt by name, a neighbor of pinem's, took her and her grandmother into her cave," answered the poet; who was then, by the highpriest's order, taken back to the temple-prison. scarcely had he disappeared when the regent exclaimed: "a dangerous man! an enthusiast! an ardent worshipper of rameses!" "and of his daughter," laughed ameni, but only a worshipper. thou hast nothing to fear from him--i will answer for the purity of his motives." "but he is handsome and of powerful speech," replied ani. "i claim him as my prisoner, for he has killed one of my soldiers." ameni's countenance darkened, and he answered very sternly: "it is the exclusive right of our conclave, as established by our charter, to judge any member of this fraternity. you, the future king, have freely promised to secure our privileges to us, the champions of your own ancient and sacred rights." "and you shall have them," answered the regent with a persuasive smile. "but this man is dangerous, and you would not have him go unpunished." "he shall be severely judged," said ameni, "but by us and in this house." "he has committed murder!" cried ani. "more than one murder. he is worthy of death." "he acted under pressure of necessity," replied ameni. "and a man so favored by the gods as he, is not to be lightly given up because an untimely impulse of generosity prompted him to rash conduct. i know-i can see that you wish him ill. promise me, as you value me as an ally, that you will not attempt his life." "oh, willingly!" smiled the regent, giving the high-priest his hand. "accept my sincere thanks," said ameni. "pentaur was the most promising of my disciples, and in spite of many aberrations i still esteem him highly. when he was telling us of what had occurred to-day, did he not remind you of the great assa, or of his gallant son, the osirian father of the pioneer paaker?" "the likeness is extraordinary," answered ani, "and yet he is of quite humble birth. who was his mother?" "our gate-keeper's daughter, a plain, pious, simple creature." "now i will return to the banqueting hall," said ani, after a fete moments of reflection. "but i must ask you one thing more. i spoke to you of a secret that will put paaker into our power. the old sorceress hekt, who has taken charge of the paraschites' wife and grandchild, knows all about it. send some policeguards over there, and let her be brought over here as a prisoner; i will examine her myself, and so can question her without exciting observation." ameni at once sent off a party of soldiers, and then quietly ordered a faithful attendant to light up the so-called audience-chamber, and to put a seat for him in an adjoining room. chapter xxx. while the banquet was going forward at the temple, and ameni's messengers were on their way to the valley of the kings' tombs, to waken up old hekt, a furious storm of hot wind came up from the southwest, sweeping black clouds across the sky, and brown clouds of dust across the earth. it bowed the slender palm-trees as an archer bends his bow, tore the tentpegs up on the scene of the festival, whirled the light tent-cloths up in the air, drove them like white witches through the dark night, and thrashed the still surface of the nile till its yellow waters swirled and tossed in waves like a restless sea. paaker had compelled his trembling slaves to row him across the stream; several times the boat was near being swamped, but he had seized the helm himself with his uninjured hand, and guided it firmly and surely, though the rocking of the boat kept his broken hand in great and constant pain. after a few ineffectual attempts he succeeded in landing. the storm had blown out the lanterns at the masts--the signal lights for which his people looked--and he found neither servants nor torch-bearers on the bank, so he struggled through the scorching wind as far as the gate of his house. his big dog had always been wont to announce his return home to the door-keeper with joyful barking; but to-night the boatmen long knocked in vain at the heavy doer. when at last he entered the courtyard, he found all dark, for the wind had extinguished the lanterns and torches, and there were no lights but in the windows of his mother's rooms. the dogs in their open kennels now began to make themselves heard, but their tones were plaintive and whining, for the storm had frightened the beasts; their howling cut the pioneer to the heart, for it reminded him of the poor slain descher, whose deep voice he sadly missed; and when he went into his own room he was met by a wild cry of lamentation from the ethiopian slave, for the dog which he had trained for paaker's father, and which he had loved. the pioneer threw himself on a seat, and ordered some water to be brought, that he might cool his aching hand in it, according to the prescription of nebsecht. as soon as the old man saw the broken fingers, he gave another yell of woe, and when paaker ordered him to cease he asked: "and is the man still alive who did that, and who killed descher?" paaker nodded, and while he held his hand in the cooling water he looked sullenly at the ground. he felt miserable, and he asked himself why the storm had not swamped the boat, and the nile had not swallowed him. bitterness and rage filled his breast, and he wished he were a child, and might cry. but his mood soon changed, his breath came quickly, his breast heaved, and an ominous light glowed in his eyes. he was not thinking of his love, but of the revenge that was even dearer to him. "that brood of rameses!" he muttered. "i will sweep them all away together--the king, and mena, and those haughty princes, and many more-i know how. only wait, only wait!" and he flung up his right fist with a threatening gesture. the door opened at this instant, and his mother entered the room; the raging of the storm had drowned the sound of her steps, and as she approached her revengeful son, she called his name in horror at the mad wrath which was depicted in his countenance. paaker started, and then said with apparent composure: "is it you, mother? it is near morning, and it is better to be asleep than awake in such an hour." "i could not rest in my rooms," answered setchem. "the storm howled so wildly, and i am so anxious, so frightfully unhappy--as i was before your father died." then stay with me," said paaker affectionately, and lie down on my couch." "i did not come here to sleep," replied setchem. "i am too unhappy at all that happened to you on the larding-steps, it is frightful! no, no, my son, it is not about your smashed hand, though it grieves me to see you in pain; it is about the king, and his anger when he hears of the quarrel. he favors you less than he did your lost father, i know it well. but how wildly you smile, how wild you looked when i carne in! it went through my bones and marrow." both were silent for a time, and listened to the furious raging of the storm. at last setchem spoke. "there is something else," she said, "which disturbs my mind. i cannot forget the poet who spoke at the festival to-day, young pentaur. his figure, his face, his movements, nay his very voice, are exactly like those of your father at the time when he was young, and courted me. it is as if the gods were fain to see the best man that they ever took to themselves, walk before them a second time upon earth." "yes, my lady," said the black slave; "no mortal eye ever saw such a likeness. i saw him fighting in front of the paraschites' cottage, and he was more like my dead master than ever. he swung the tent-post over his head, as my lord used to swing his battle-axe." "be silent," cried paaker, "and get out-idiot! the priest is like my father; i grant it, mother; but he is an insolent fellow, who offended me grossly, and with whom i have to reckon--as with many others." "how violent you are!" interrupted his mother, "and how full of bitterness and hatred. your father was so sweet-tempered, and kind to everybody." "perhaps they are kind to me?" retorted paaker with a short laugh. "even the immortals spite me, and throw thorns in my path. but i will push them aside with my own hand, and will attain what i desire without the help of the gods and overthrow all that oppose me." "we cannot blow away a feather without the help of the immortals," answered setchem. "so your father used to say, who was a very different man both in body and mind from you! i tremble before you this evening, and at the curses you have uttered against the children of your lord and sovereign, your father's best friend." "but my enemy," shouted paaker. "you will get nothing from me but curses. and the brood of rameses shall learn whether your husband's son will let himself be ill-used and scorned without revenging him self. i will fling them into an abyss, and i will laugh when i see them writhing in the sand at my feet!" "fool!" cried setchem, beside herself. "i am but a woman, and have often blamed myself for being soft and weak; but as sure as i am faithful to your dead father--who you are no more like than a bramble is like a palm-tree--so surely will i tear my love for you out of my heart if you --if you--now i see! now i know! answer me-murderer! where are the seven arrows with the wicked words which used to hang here? where are the arrows on which you had scrawled 'death to mena?'" with these words setchem breathlessly started forward, but the pioneer drew back as she confronted him, as in his youthful days when she threatened to punish him for some misdemeanor. she followed him up, caught him by the girdle, and in a hoarse voice repeated her question. he stood still, snatched her hand angrily from his belt, and said defiantly: "i have put them in my quiver--and not for mere play. now you know." incapable of words, the maddened woman once more raised her hand against her degenerate son, but he put back her arm. "i am no longer a child," he said, "and i am master of this house. i will do what i will, if a hundred women hindered me!" and with these words he pointed to the door. setchem broke into loud sobs, and turned her back upon him; but at the door once more she turned to look at him. he had seated himself, and was resting his forehead on the table on which the bowl of cold water stood. setchem fought a hard battle. at last once more through her choking tears she called his name, opened her arms wide and exclaimed: "here i am--here i am! come to my heart, only give up these hideous thoughts of revenge." but paaker did not move, he did not look up at her, he did not speak, he only shook his head in negation. setchem's hands fell, and she said softly: "what did your father teach you out of the scriptures? 'your highest praise consists in this, to reward your mother for what she has done for you, in bringing you up, so that she may not raise her hands to god, nor he hear her lamentation.'" at these words, paaker sobbed aloud, but he did not look at his mother. she called him tenderly by his name; then her eyes fell on his quiver, which lay on a bench with other arms. her heart shrunk within her, and with a trembling voice she exclaimed: "i forbid this mad vengeance--do you hear? will you give it up? you do not move? no! you will not! ye gods, what can i do?" she wrung her hands in despair; then she hastily crossed the room, snatched out one of the arrows, and strove to break it. paaker sprang from his seat, and wrenched the weapon from her hand; the sharp point slightly scratched the skin, and dark drops of blood flowed from it, and dropped upon the floor. the mohar would have taken the wounded hand, for setchem, who had the weakness of never being able to see blood flow--neither her own nor anybody's else--had turned as pale as death; but she pushed him from her, and as she spoke her gentle voice had a dull estranged tone. "this hand," she said--"a mother's hand wounded by her son--shall never again grasp yours till you have sworn a solemn oath to put away from you all thoughts of revenge and murder, and not to disgrace your father's name. i have said it, and may his glorified spirit be my witness, and give me strength to keep my word!" paaker had fallen on his knees, and was engaged in a terrible mental struggle, while his mother slowly went towards the door. there again she stood still for a moment; she did not speak, but her eyes appealed to him once more. in vain. at last she left the room, and the wind slammed the door violently behind her. paaker groaned, and pressed his hand over his eyes. "mother, mother!" he cried. "i cannot go back--i cannot." a fearful gust of wind howled round the house, and drowned his voice, and then he heard two tremendous claps, as if rocks had been hurled from heaven. he started up and went to the window, where the melancholy grey dawn was showing, in order to call the slaves. soon they came trooping out, and the steward called out as soon as he saw him: "the storm has blown down the masts at the great gate!" "impossible!" cried paaker. "yes, indeed!" answered the servant. "they have been sawn through close to the ground. the matmaker no doubt did it, whose collar-bone was broken. he has escaped in this fearful night." "let out the dogs," cried the mohar. "all who have legs run after the blackguard! freedom, and five handfuls of gold for the man who brings him back." the guests at the house of seti had already gone to rest, when ameni was informed of the arrival of the sorceress, and he at once went into the hall, where ani was waiting to see her; the regent roused himself from a deep reverie when he heard the high-priest's steps. "is she come?" he asked hastily; when ameni answered in the affirmative ani went on meanwhile carefully disentangling the disordered curls of his wig, and arranging his broad, collar-shaped necklace: "the witch may exercise some influence over me; will you not give me your blessing to preserve me from her spells? it is true, i have on me this houss'-eye, and this isis-charm, but one never knows." "my presence will be your safe-guard," said ameni. "but-no, of course you wish to speak with her alone. you shall be conducted to a room, which is protected against all witchcraft by sacred texts. my brother," he continued to one of the serving-priests, "let the witch be taken into one of the consecrated rooms, and then, when you have sprinkled the threshold, lead my lord ani thither." the high-priest went away, and into a small room which adjoined the hall where the interview between the regent and the old woman was about to take place, and where the softest whisper spoken in the larger room could be heard by means of an ingeniously contrived and invisible tube. when ani saw the old woman, he started back is horror; her appearance at this moment was, in fact, frightful. the storm had tossed and torn her garment and tumbled all her thick, white hair, so that locks of it fell over her face. she leaned on a staff, and bending far forward looked steadily at the regent; and her eyes, red and smarting from the sand which the wind had flung in her face, seemed to glow as she fixed them on his. she looked as a hyaena might when creeping to seize its prey, and ani felt a cold shiver and he heard her hoarse voice addressing him to greet him and to represent that he had chosen a strange hour for requiring her to speak with him. when she had thanked him for his promise of renewing her letter of freedom, and had confirmed the statement that paaker had had a lovephilter from her, she parted her hair from off her face--it occurred to her that she was a woman. the regent sat in an arm-chair, she stood before him; but the struggle with the storm had tired her old limbs, and she begged ani to permit her to be seated, as she had a long story to tell, which would put paaker into his power, so that he would find him as yielding as wax. the regent signed her to a corner of the room, and she squatted down on the pavement. when he desired her to proceed with her story, she looked at the floor for some time in silence, and then began, as if half to herself: "i will tell thee, that i may find peace--i do not want, when i die, to be buried unembalmed. who knows but perhaps strange things may happen in the other world, and i would not wish to miss them. i want to see him again down there, even if it were in the seventh limbo of the damned. listen to me! but, before i speak, promise me that whatever i tell thee, thou wilt leave me in peace, and will see that i am embalmed when i am dead. else i will not speak." ani bowed consent. "no-no," she said. "i will tell thee what to swear 'if i do not keep my word to hekt--who gives the mohar into my power--may the spirits whom she rules, annihilate me before i mount the throne.' do not be vexed, my lord--and say only 'yes.' what i can tell, is worth more than a mere word." "well then--yes!" cried the regent, eager for the mighty revelation. the old woman muttered a few unintelligible words; then she collected herself, stretched out her lean neck, and asked, as she fixed her sparkling eyes on the man before her: "did'st thou ever, when thou wert young, hear of the singer beki? well, look at me, i am she." she laughed loud and hoarsely, and drew her tattered robe across her bosom, as if half ashamed of her unpleasing person. "ay!" she continued. "men find pleasure in grapes by treading them down, and when the must is drunk the skins are thrown on the dung-hill. grape-skins, that is what i am--but you need not look at me so pitifully; i was grapes once, and poor and despised as i am now, no one can take from me what i have had and have been. mine has been a life out of a thousand, a complete life, full to overflowing of joy and suffering, of love and hate, of delight, despair, and revenge. only to talk of it raises me to a seat by thy throne there. no, let me be, i am used now to squatting on the ground; but i knew thou wouldst hear me to the end, for once i too was one of you. extremes meet in all things--i know it by experience. the greatest men will hold out a hand to a beautiful woman, and time was when i could lead you all as with a rope. shall i begin at the beginning? well--i seldom am in the mood for it now-a-days. fifty years ago i sang a song with this voice of mine; an old crow like me? sing! but so it was. my father was a man of rank, the governor of abydos; when the first rameses took possession of the throne my father was faithful to the house of thy fathers, so the new king sent us all to the gold mines, and there they all died--my parents, brothers, and sisters. i only survived by some miracle. as i was handsome and sang well, a music master took me into his band, brought me to thebes, and wherever there was a feast given in any great house, beki was in request. of flowers and money and tender looks i had a plentiful harvest; but i was proud and cold, and the misery of my people had made me bitter at an age when usually even bad liquor tastes of honey. not one of all the gay young fellows, princes' sons, and nobles, dared to touch my hand. but my hour was to come; the handsomest and noblest man of them all, and grave and dignified too--was assa, the old mohar's father, and grandfather of pentaur--no, i should say of paaker, the pioneer; thou hast known him. well, wherever i sang, he sat opposite me, and gazed at me, and i could not take my eyes off him, and--thou canst tell the rest! no! well, no woman before or after me can ever love a man as i loved assa. why dost thou not laugh? it must seem odd, too, to hear such a thing from the toothless mouth of an old witch. he is dead, long since dead. i hate him! and yet--wild as it sounds--i believe i love him yet. and he loved me--for two years; then he went to the war with seti, and remained a long time away, and when i saw him again he had courted the daughter of some rich and noble house. i was handsome enough still, but he never looked at me at the banquets. i came across him at least twenty times, but he avoided me as if i were tainted with leprosy, and i began to fret, and fell ill of a fever. the doctors said it was all over with me, so i sent him a letter in which there was nothing but these words: 'beki is dying, and would like to see assa once more,' and in the papyrus i put his first present--a plain ring. and what was the answer? a handful of gold! gold--gold! thou may'st believe me, when i say that the sight of it was more torturing to my eyes than the iron with which they put out the eyes of criminals. even now, when i think of it--but what do you men, you lords of rank and wealth, know of a breaking heart? when two or three of you happen to meet, and if thou should'st tell the story, the most respectable will say in a pompous voice: 'the man acted nobly indeed; he was married, and his wife would have complained with justice if he had gone to see the singer.' am i right or wrong? i know; not one will remember that the other was a woman, a feeling human being; it will occur to no one that his deed on the one hand saved an hour of discomfort, and on the other wrought half a century of despair. assa escaped his wife's scolding, but a thousand curses have fallen on him and on his house. how virtuous he felt himself when he had crushed and poisoned a passionate heart that had never ceased to love him! ay, and he would have come if he had not still felt some love for me, if he had not misdoubted himself, and feared that the dying woman might once more light up the fire he had so carefully smothered and crushed out. i would have grieved for him-but that he should send me money, money!--that i have never forgiven; that he shall atone for in his grandchild." the old woman spoke the last words as if in a dream, and without seeming to remember her hearer. ani shuddered, as if he were in the presence of a mad woman, and he involuntarily drew his chair back a little way. the witch observed this; she took breath and went on: "you lords, who walk in high places, do not know how things go on in the depths beneath you; you do not choose to know. "but i will shorten my story. i got well, but i got out of my bed thin and voiceless. i had plenty of money, and i spent it in buying of everyone who professed magic in thebes, potions to recover assa's love for me, or in paying for spells to be cast on him, or for magic drinks to destroy him. i tried too to recover my voice, but the medicines i took for it made it rougher not sweeter. then an excommunicated priest, who was famous among the magicians, took me into his house, and there i learned many things; his old companions afterwards turned upon him, he came over here into the necropolis, and i came with him. when at last he was taken and hanged, i remained in his cave, and myself took to witchcraft. children point their fingers at me, honest men and women avoid me, i am an abomination to all men, nay to myself. and one only is guilty of all this ruin--the noblest gentleman in thebes--the pious assa. "i had practised magic for several years, and had become learned in many arts, when one day the gardener sent, from whom i was accustomed to buy plants for my mixtures--he rents a plot of ground from the temple of seti--sent brought me a new-born child that had been born with six toes; i was to remove the supernumerary toe by my art. the pious mother of the child was lying ill of fever, or she never would have allowed it; i took the screaming little wretch--for such things are sometimes curable. the next morning, a few hours after sunrise, there was a bustle in front of my cave; a maid, evidently belonging to a noble house, was calling me. her mistress, she said, had come with her to visit the tomb of her fathers, and there had been taken ill, and had given birth to a child. her mistress was lying senseless--i must go at once, and help her. i took the little six-toed brat in my cloak, told my slavegirl to follow me with water, and soon found myself--as thou canst guess--at the tomb of assa's ancestors. the poor woman, who lay there in convulsions, was his daughter-in-law setchem. the baby, a boy, was as sound as a nut, but she was evidently in great danger. i sent the maid with the litter, which was waiting outside, to the temple here for help; the girl said that her master, the father of the child, was at the war, but that the grandfather, the noble assa, had promised to meet the lady setchem at the tomb, and would shortly be coming; then she disappeared with the litter. i washed the child, and kissed it as if it were my own. then i heard distant steps in the valley, and the recollection of the moment when i, lying at the point of death, had received that gift of money from assa came over me, and then i do not know myself how it happened--i gave the new-born grandchild of assa to my slave-girl, and told her to carry it quickly to the cave, and i wrapped the little six-toed baby in my rags and held it in my lap. there i sat--and the minutes seemed hours, till assa came up; and when he stood before me, grown grey, it is true, but still handsome and upright--i put the gardener's boy, the six-toed brat, into his very arms, and a thousand demons seemed to laugh hoarsely within me. he thanked me, he did not know me, and once more he offered me a handful of gold. i took it, and i listened as the priest, who had come from the temple, prophesied all sorts of fine things for the little one, who was born in so fortunate an hour; and then i went back into my cave, and there i laughed till i cried, though i do not know that the tears sprang from the laughter. "a few days after i gave assa's grandchild to the gardener, and told him the sixth toe had come off; i had made a little wound on his foot to take in the bumpkin. so assa's grandchild, the son of the mohar, grew up as the gardener's child, and received the name of pentaur, and he was brought up in the temple here, and is wonderfully like assa; but the gardener's monstrous brat is the pioneer paaker. that is the whole secret." ani had listened in silence to the terrible old woman. we are involuntarily committed to any one who can inform us of some absorbing fact, and who knows how to make the information valuable. it did not occur to the regent to punish the witch for her crimes; he thought rather of his older friends' rapture when they talked of the singer beki's songs and beauty. he looked at the woman, and a cold shiver ran through all his limbs. "you may live in peace," he said at last; "and when you die i will see to your being embalmed; but give up your black arts. you must be rich, and, if you are not, say what you need. indeed, i scarcely dare offer you gold--it excites your hatred, as i understand." "i could take thine--but now let me go!" she got up, and went towards the door, but the regent called to her to stop, and asked: "is assa the father of your son, the little nemu, the dwarf of the lady katuti?" the witch laughed loudly. "is the little wretch like assa or like beki? i picked him up like many other children." "but he is clever!" said ani. "ay-that he is. he has planned many a shrewd stroke, and is devoted to his mistress. he will help thee to thy purpose, for he himself has one too." "and that is--?" "katuti will rise to greatness with thee, and to riches through paaker, who sets out to-morrow to make the woman he loves a widow." "you know a great deal," said ani meditatively, "and i would ask you one thing more; though indeed your story has supplied the answer--but perhaps you know more now than you did in your youth. is there in truth any effectual love-philter?" "i will not deceive thee, for i desire that thou should'st keep thy word to me," replied hekt. "a love potion rarely has any effect, and never but on women who have never before loved. if it is given to a woman whose heart is filled with the image of another man her passion for him only will grow the stronger." "yet another," said ani. "is there any way of destroying an enemy at a distance?" "certainly," said the witch. "little people may do mean things, and great people can let others do things that they cannot do themselves. my story has stirred thy gall, and it seems to me that thou dost not love the poet pentaur. a smile! well then--i have not lost sight of him, and i know he is grown up as proud and as handsome as assa. he is wonderfully like him, and i could have loved him--have loved as this foolish heart had better never have loved. it is strange! in many women, who come to me, i see how their hearts cling to the children of men who have abandoned them, and we women are all alike, in most things. but i will not let myself love assa's grandchild--i must not. i will injure him, and help everyone that persecutes him; for though assa is dead, the wrongs he did me live in me so long as i live myself. pentaur's destiny must go on its course. if thou wilt have his life, consult with nemu, for he hates him too, and he will serve thee more effectually than i can with my vain spells and silly harmless brews. now let me go home!" a few hours later ameni sent to invite the regent to breakfast. "do you know who the witch hekt is?" asked ani. "certainly--how should i notknow? she is the singer beki--the former enchantress of thebes. may i ask what her communications were?" ani thought it best not to confide the secret of pentaur's birth to the high-priest, and answered evasively. then ameni begged to be allowed to give him some information about the old woman, and how she had had a hand in the game; and he related to his hearer, with some omissions and variations--as if it were a fact he had long known--the very story which a few hours since he had overheard, and learned for the first time. ani feigned great astonishment, and agreed with the high-priest that paaker should not for the present be informed of his true origin. "he is a strangely constituted man," said ameni, "and he is not incapable of playing us some unforeseen trick before he has done his part, if he is told who he is." the storm had exhausted itself, and the sky, though covered still with torn and flying clouds, cleared by degrees, as the morning went on; a sharp coolness succeeded the hot blast, but the sun as it mounted higher and higher soon heated the air. on the roads and in the gardens lay uprooted trees and many slightly-built houses which had been blown down, while the tents in the strangers' quarter, and hundreds of light palmthatched roofs, had been swept away. the regent was returning to thebes, and with him went ameni, who desired to ascertain by his own eyes what mischief the whirlwind had done to his garden in the city. on the nile they met paaker's boat, and ani caused it and his own to be stopped, while he requested paaker to visit him shortly at the palace. the high-priest's garden was in no respect inferior in beauty and extent to that of the mohar. the ground had belonged to his family from the remotest generations, and his house was large and magnificent. he seated himself in a shady arbor, to take a repast with his still handsome wife and his young and pretty daughters. he consoled his wife for the various damage done by the hurricane, promised the girls to build a new and handsomer clove-cot in the place of the one which had been blown down, and laughed and joked with them all; for here the severe head of the house of seti, the grave superior of the necropolis, became a simple man, an affectionate husband, a tender father, a judicious friend, among his children, his flowers, and his birds. his youngest daughter clung to his right arm, and an older one to his left, when he rose from table to go with them to the poultry-yard. on the way thither a servant announced to him that the lady setchem wished to see him. "take her to your mistress," he said. but the slave--who held in his hand a handsome gift in money--explained that the widow wished to speak with him alone. "can i never enjoy an hour's peace like other men?" exclaimed ameni annoyed. "your mistress can receive her, and she can wait with her till i come. it is true, girls--is it not?--that i belong to you just now, and to the fowls, and ducks, and pigeons?" his youngest daughter kissed him, the second patted him affectionately, and they all three went gaily forward. an hour later he requested the lady setchem to accompany him into the garden. the poor, anxious, and frightened woman had resolved on this step with much difficulty; tears filled her kind eyes, as she communicated her troubles to the high-priest. "thou art a wise counsellor," she said, "and thou knowest well how my son honors the gods of the temple of seti with gifts and offerings. he will not listen to his mother, but thou hast influence with him. he meditates frightful things, and if he cannot be terrified by threats of punishment from the immortals, he will raise his hand against mena, and perhaps--" "against the king," interrupted ameni gravely. "i know it, and i will speak to him." "thanks, oh a thousand thanks!" cried the widow, and she seized the high-priests robe to kiss it. "it was thou who soon after his birth didst tell my husband that he was born under a lucky star, and would grow to be an honor and an ornament to his house and to his country. and now --now he will ruin himself in this world, and the next." "what i foretold of your son," said ameni, "shall assuredly be fulfilled, for the ways of the gods are not as the ways of men." "thy words do me good!" cried setchem. "none can tell what fearful terror weighed upon my heart, when i made up my mind to come here. but thou dost not yet know all. the great masts of cedar, which paaker sent from lebanon to thebes to bear our banners, and ornament our gateway, were thrown to the ground at sunrise by the frightful wind." "thus shall your son's defiant spirit be broken," said ameni; "but for you, if you have patience, new joys shall arise." "i thank thee again," said setchem. but something yet remains to be said. i know that i am wasting the time that thou dost devote to thy family, and i remember thy saying once that here in thebes thou wert like a pack-horse with his load taken off, and free to wander over a green meadow. i will not disturb thee much longer--but the gods sent me such a wonderful vision. paaker would not listen to me, and i went back into my room full of sorrow; and when at last, after the sun had risen, i fell asleep for a few minutes, i dreamed i saw before me the poet pentaur, who is wonderfully like my dead husband in appearance and in voice. paaker went up to him, and abused him violently, and threatened him with his fist; the priest raised his arms in prayer, just as i saw him yesterday at the festival--but not in devotion, but to seize paaker, and wrestle with him. the struggle did not last long, for paaker seemed to shrink up, and lost his human form, and fell at the poet's feet--not my son, but a shapeless lump of clay such as the potter uses to make jars of." "a strange dream!" exclaimed ameni, not without agitation. "a very strange dream, but it bodes you good. clay, setchem, is yielding, and clearly indicates that which the gods prepare for you. the immortals will give you a new and a better son instead of the old one, but it is not revealed to me by what means. go now, and sacrifice to the gods, and trust to the wisdom of those who guide the life of the universe, and of all mortal creatures. yet--i would give you one more word of advice. if paaker comes to you repentant, receive him kindly, and let me know; but if he will not yield, close your rooms against him, and let him depart without taking leave of you." when setchem, much encouraged, was gone away, ameni said to himself: "she will find splendid compensation for this coarse scoundrel, and she shall not spoil the tool we need to strike our blow. i have often doubted how far dreams do, indeed, foretell the future, but to-day my faith in them is increased. certainly a mother's heart sees farther than that of any other human being." at the door of her house setchem came up with her son's chariot. they saw each other, but both looked away, for they could not meet affectionately, and would not meet coldly. as the horses outran the litter-bearers, the mother and son looked round at each other, their eyes met, and each felt a stab in the heart. in the evening the pioneer, after he had had an interview with the regent, went to the temple of seti to receive ameni's blessing on all his undertakings. then, after sacrificing in the tomb of his ancestors, he set out for syria. just as he was getting into his chariot, news was brought him that the mat-maker, who had sawn through the masts at the gate, had been caught. "put out his eyes!" he cried; and these were the last words he spoke as he quitted his home. setchem looked after him for a long time; she had refused to bid him farewell, and now she implored the gods to turn his heart, and to preserve him from malice and crime. chapter xxxi. three days had passed since the pioneer's departure, and although it was still early, busy occupation was astir in bent-anat's work-rooms. the ladies had passed the stormy night, which had succeeded the exciting evening of the festival, without sleep. nefert felt tired and sleepy the next morning, and begged the princess to introduce her to her new duties for the first time next day; but the princess spoke to her encouragingly, told her that no man should put off doing right till the morrow, and urged her to follow her into her workshop. "we must both come to different minds," said she. "i often shudder involuntarily, and feel as if i bore a brand--as if i had a stain here on my shoulder where it was touched by paaker's rough hand." the first day of labor gave nefert a good many difficulties to overcome; on the second day the work she had begun already had a charm for her, and by the third she rejoiced in the little results of her care. bent-anat had put her in the right place, for she had the direction of a large number of young girls and women, the daughters, wives, and widows of those thebans who were at the war, or who had fallen in the field, who sorted and arranged the healing herbs. her helpers sat in little circles on the ground; in the midst of each lay a great heap of fresh and dry plants, and in front of each work-woman a number of parcels of the selected roots, leaves, and flowers. an old physician presided over the whole, and had shown nefert the first day the particular plants which he needed. the wife of mena, who was fond of flowers, had soon learnt them all, and she taught willingly, for she loved children. she soon had favorites among the children, and knew some as being industrious and careful, others as idle and heedless: "ay! ay!" she exclaimed, bending over a little half-naked maiden with great almond-shaped eyes. "you are mixing them all together. your father, as you tell me, is at the war. suppose, now, an arrow were to strike him, and this plant, which would hurt him, were laid on the burning wound instead of this other, which would do him good--that would be very sad." the child nodded her head, and looked her work through again. nefert turned to a little idler, and said: "you are chattering again, and doing nothing, and yet your father is in the field. if he were ill now, and has no medicine, and if at night when he is asleep he dreams of you, and sees you sitting idle, he may say to himself: 'now i might get well, but my little girl at home does not love me, for she would rather sit with her hands in her lap than sort herbs for her sick father.'" then nefert turned to a large group of the girls, who were sorting plants, and said: "do you, children, know the origin of all these wholesome, healing herbs? the good horus went out to fight against seth, the murderer of his father, and the horrible enemy wounded horus in the eye in the struggle; but the son of osiris conquered, for good always conquers evil. but when isis saw the bad wound, she pressed her son's head to her bosom, and her heart was as sad as that of any poor human mother that holds her suffering child in her arms. and she thought: 'how easy it is to give wounds, and how hard it is to heal them!' and so she wept; one tear after another fell on the earth, and wherever they wetted the ground there sprang up a kindly healing plant." "isis is good!" cried a little girl opposite to her. mother says isis loves children when they are good." "your mother is right," replied nefert. "isis herself has her dear little son horus; and every human being that dies, and that was good, becomes a child again, and the goddess makes it her own, and takes it to her breast, and nurses it with her sister nephthys till he grows up and can fight for his father." nefert observed that while she spoke one of the women was crying. she went up to her, and learned that her husband and her son were both dead, the former in syria, and the latter after his return to egypt. "poor soul!" said nefert. "now you will be very careful, that the wounds of others may be healed. i will tell you something more about isis. she loved her husband osiris dearly, as you did your dead husband, and i my husband mena, but he fell a victim to the cunning of seth, and she could not tell where to find the body that had been carried away, while you can visit your husband in his grave. then isis went through the land lamenting, and ah! what was to become of egypt, which received all its fruitfulness from osiris. the sacred nile was dried up, and not a blade of verdure was green on its banks. the goddess grieved over this beyond words, and one of her tears fell in the bed of the river, and immediately it began to rise. you know, of course, that each inundation arises from a tear of isis. thus a widow's sorrow may bring blessing to millions of human beings." the woman had listened to her attentively, and when nefert ceased speaking she said: "but i have still three little brats of my son's to feed, for his wife, who was a washerwoman, was eaten by a crocodile while she was at work. poor folks must work for themselves, and not for others. if the princess did not pay us, i could not think of the wounds of the soldiers, who do not belong to me. i am no longer strong, and four mouths to fill--" nefert was shocked--as she often was in the course of her new duties--and begged bent-gnat to raise the wages of the woman. "willingly," said the princess. "how could i beat down such an assistant. come now with me into the kitchen. i am having some fruit packed for my father and brothers; there must be a box for mena too." nefert followed her royal friend, found them packing in one case the golden dates of the oasis of amon, and in another the dark dates of nubia, the king's favorite sort. "let me pack them!" cried nefert; she made the servants empty the box again, and re-arranged the variouscolored dates in graceful patterns, with other fruits preserved in sugar. bent-anat looked on, and when she had finished she took her hand. "whatever your fingers have touched," she exclaimed, "takes some pretty aspect. give me that scrap of papyrus; i shall put it in the case, and write upon it: "'these were packed for king rameses by his daughter's clever helpmate, the wife of mena.'" after the mid-day rest the princess was called away, and nefert remained for some hours alone with the work-women. when the sun went down, and the busy crowd were about to leave, nefert detained them, and said: "the sun-bark is sinking behind the western hills; come, let us pray together for the king and for those we love in the field. each of you think of her own: you children of your fathers, you women of your sons, and we wives of our distant husbands, and let us entreat amon that they may return to us as certainly as the sun, which now leaves us, will rise again to-morrow morning." nefert knelt down, and with her the women and the children. when they rose, a little girl went up to nefert, and said, pulling her dress: "thou madest us kneel here yesterday, and already my mother is better, because i prayed for her." "no doubt," said nefert, stroking the child's black hair. she found bent-anat on the terrace meditatively gazing across to the necropolis, which was fading into darkness before her eyes. she started when she heard the light footsteps of her friend. "i am disturbing thee," said nefert, about to retire. "no, stay," said bent-anat. "i thank the gods that i have you, for my heart is sad--pitifully sad." "i know where your thoughts were," said nefert softly. "well?" asked the princess. "with pentaur." "i think of him--always of him," replied the princess, "and nothing else occupies my heart. i am no longer myself. what i think i ought not to think, what i feel i ought not to feel, and yet, i cannot command it, and i think my heart would bleed to death if i tried to cut out those thoughts and feelings. i have behaved strangely, nay unbecomingly, and now that which is hard to endure is hanging over me, something strangewhich will perhaps drive you from me back to your mother." "i will share everything with you," cried nefert. "what is going to happen? are you then no longer the daughter of rameses?" "i showed myself to the people as a woman of the people," answered bentanat, "and i must take the consequences. bek en chunsu, the high-priest of amon, has been with me, and i have had a long conversation with him. the worthy man is good to me, i know, and my father ordered me to follow his advice before any one's. he showed me that i have erred deeply. in a state of uncleanness i went into one of the temples of the necropolis, and after i had once been into the paraschites' house and incurred ameni's displeasure, i did it a second time. they know over there all that took place at the festival. now i must undergo purification, either with great solemnity at the hands of ameni himself, before all the priests and nobles in the house of seti, or by performing a pilgrimage to the emerald-hathor, under whose influence the precious stones are hewn from the rocks, metals dug out, and purified by fire. the goddess shall purge me from my uncleanness as metal is purged from the dross. at a day's journey and more from the mines, an abundant stream flows from the holy mountain-sinai," as it is called by the mentut--and near it stands the sanctuary of the goddess, in which priests grant purification. the journey is a long one, through the desert, and over the sea; but bek en chunsu advises me to venture it. ameni, he says, is not amiably disposed towards me, because i infringed the ordinance which he values above all others. i must submit to double severity, he says, because the people look first to those of the highest rank; and if i went unpunished for contempt of the sacred institutions there might be imitators among the crowd. he speaks in the name of the gods, and they measure hearts with an equal measure. the ell-measure is the symbol of the goddess of truth. i feel that it is all not unjust; and yet i find it hard to submit to the priest's decree, for i am the daughter of rameses!" "aye, indeed!" exclaimed nefert, "and he is himself a god!" "but he taught me to respect the laws!" interrupted the princess. "i discussed another thing with bek en chunsu. you know i rejected the suit of the regent. he must secretly be much vexed with me. that indeed would not alarm me, but he is the guardian and protector appointed over me by my father, and yet can i turn to him in confidence for counsel, and help? no! i am still a woman, and rameses' daughter! sooner will i travel through a thousand deserts than humiliate my father through his child. by to-morrow i shall have decided; but, indeed, i have already decided to make the journey, hard as it is to leave much that is here. do not fear, dear! but you are too tender for such a journey, and to such a distance; i might--" "no, no," cried nefert. "i am going, too, if you were going to the four pillars of heaven, at the limits of the earth. you have given me a new life, and the little sprout that is green within me would wither again if i had to return to my mother. only she or i can be in our house, and i will re-enter it only with mena." "it is settled--i must go," said the princess. "oh! if only my father were not so far off, and that i could consult him!" "yes! the war, and always the war!" sighed nefert. "why do not men rest content with what they have, and prefer the quiet peace, which makes life lovely, to idle fame?" "would they be men? should we love them?" cried bent-anat eagerly. "is not the mind of the gods, too, bent on war? did you ever see a more sublime sight than pentaur, on that evening when he brandished the stake he had pulled up, and exposed his life to protect an innocent girl who was in danger?" "i dared not once look down into the court," said nefert. "i was in such an agony of mind. but his loud cry still rings in my ears." "so rings the war cry of heroes before whom the enemy quails!" exclaimed bent-anat. "aye, truly so rings the war cry!" said prince rameri, who had entered his sister's half-dark room unperceived by the two women. the princess turned to the boy. "how you frightened me!" she said. "you!" said rameri astonished. "yes, me. i used to have a stout heart, but since that evening i frequently tremble, and an agony of terror comes over me, i do not know why. i believe some demon commands me." "you command, wherever you go; and no one commands you," cried rameri. "the excitement and tumult in the valley, and on the quay, still agitate you. i grind my teeth myself when i remember how they turned me out of the school, and how paaker set the dog at us. i have gone through a great deal today too." "where were you so long?" asked bent-anat. "my uncle ani commanded that you should not leave the palace." "i shall be eighteen years old next month," said the prince, "and need no tutor." "but your father--" said bent-anat. "my father"--interrupted the boy, "he little knows the regent. but i shall write to him what i have today heard said by different people. they were to have sworn allegiance to ani at that very feast in the valley, and it is quite openly said that ani is aiming at the throne, and intends to depose the king. you are right, it is madness--but there must be something behind it all." nefert turned pale, and bent-anat asked for particulars. the prince repeated all he had gathered, and added laughing: "ani depose my father! it is as if i tried to snatch the star of isis from the sky to light the lamps--which are much wanted here." "it is more comfortable in the dark," said nefert. "no, let us have lights," said bent-anat. "it is better to talk when we can see each other face to face. i have no belief in the foolish talk of the people; but you are right--we must bring it to my fathers knowledge." "i heard the wildest gossip in the city of the dead," said rameri. "you ventured over there? how very wrong!" "i disguised myself a little, and i have good news for you. pretty uarda is much better. she received your present, and they have a house of their own again. close to the one that was burnt down, there was a tumbled-down hovel, which her father soon put together again; he is a bearded soldier, who is as much like her as a hedgehog is like a white dove. i offered her to work in the palace for you with the other girls, for good wages, but she would not; for she has to wait on her sick grandmother, and she is proud, and will not serve any one." "it seems you were a long time with the paraschites' people," said bentanat reprovingly. "i should have thought that what has happened to me might have served you as a warning." "i will not be better than you!" cried the boy. "besides, the paraschites is dead, and uarda's father is a respectable soldier, who can defile no one. i kept a long way from the old woman. to-morrow i am going again. i promised her." "promised who?" asked his sister. "who but uarda? she loves flowers, and since the rose which you gave her she has not seen one. i have ordered the gardener to cut me a basket full of roses to-morrow morning, and shall take them to her myself." "that you will not!" cried bent-anat. "you are still but half a child-and, for the girl's sake too, you must give it up." "we only gossip together," said the prince coloring, "and no one shall recognize me. but certainly, if you mean that, i will leave the basket of roses, and go to her alone. no--sister, i will not be forbidden this; she is so charming, so white, so gentle, and her voice is so soft and sweet! and she has little feet, as small as--what shall i say?--as small and graceful as nefert's hand. we talked most about pentaur. she knows his father, who is a gardener, and knows a great deal about him. only think! she says the poet cannot be the son of his parents, but a good spirit that has come down on earth--perhaps a god. at first she was very timid, but when i spoke of pentaur she grew eager; her reverence for him is almost idolatry--and that vexed me." "you would rather she should reverence you so," said nefert smiling. "not at all," cried rameri. "but i helped to save her, and i am so happy when i am sitting with her, that to-morrow, i am resolved, i will put a flower in her hair. it is red certainly, but as thick as yours, bentanat, and it must be delightful to unfasten it and stroke it." the ladies exchanged a glance of intelligence, and the princess said decidedly: "you will not go to the city of the dead to-morrow, my little son!" "that we will see, my little mother!" he answered laughing; then he turned grave. "i saw my school-friend anana too," he said. "injustice reigns in the house of seti! pentaur is in prison, and yesterday evening they sat in judgment upon him. my uncle was present, and would have pounced upon the poet, but ameni took him under his protection. what was finally decided, the pupils could not learn, but it must have been something bad, for the son of the treasurer heard ameni saying, after the sitting, to old gagabu: 'punishment he deserves, but i will not let him be overwhelmed;' and he can have meant no one but pentaur. to-morrow i will go over, and learn more; something frightful, i am afraid--several years of imprisonment is the least that will happen to him." bent-anat had turned very pale. "and whatever they do to him," she cried, "he will suffer for my sake! oh, ye omnipotent gods, help him--help me, be merciful to us both!" she covered her face with her hands, and left the room. rameri asked nefert: what can have come to my sister? she seems quite strange to me; and you too are not the same as you used to be." "we both have to find our way in new circumstances." "what are they?" "that i cannot explain to you!--but it appears to me that you soon may experience something of the same kind. rumeri, do not go again to the paraschites." chapter xxxii. early on the following clay the dwarf nemu went past the restored hut of uarda's father--in which he had formerly lived with his wife--with a man in a long coarse robe, the steward of some noble family. they went towards old hekt's cave-dwelling. "i would beg thee to wait down here a moment, noble lord," said the dwarf, "while i announce thee to my mother." "that sounds very grand," said the other. "however, so be it. but stay! the old woman is not to call me by my name or by my title. she is to call me 'steward'--that no one may know. but, indeed, no one would recognize me in this dress." nemu hastened to the cave, but before he reached his mother she called out: "do not keep my lord waiting--i know him well." nemu laid his finger to his lips. "you are to call him steward," said he. "good," muttered the old woman. "the ostrich puts his head under his feathers when he does not want to be seen." "was the young prince long with uarda yesterday?" "no, you fool," laughed the witch, "the children play together. rameri is a kid without horns, but who fancies he knows where they ought to grow. pentaur is a more dangerous rival with the red-headed girl. make haste, now; these stewards must not be kept waiting!" the old woman gave the dwarf a push, and he hurried back to ani, while she carried the child, tied to his board, into the cave, and threw the sack over him. a few minutes later the regent stood before her. she bowed before him with a demeanor that was more like the singer beki than the sorceress hekt, and begged him to take the only seat she possessed. when, with a wave of his hand, he declined to sit down, she said: "yes--yes--be seated! then thou wilt not be seen from the valley, but be screened by the rocks close by. why hast thou chosen this hour for thy visit?" "because the matter presses of which i wish to speak," answered ani; "and in the evening i might easily be challenged by the watch. my disguise is good. under this robe i wear my usual dress. from this i shall go to the tomb of my father, where i shall take off this coarse thing, and these other disfigurements, and shall wait for my chariot, which is already ordered. i shall tell people i had made a vow to visit the grave humbly, and on foot, which i have now fulfilled." "well planned," muttered the old woman. ani pointed to the dwarf, and said politely: "your pupil." since her narrative the sorceress was no longer a mere witch in his eyes. the old woman understood this, and saluted him with a curtsey of such courtly formality, that a tame raven at her feet opened his black beak wide, and uttered a loud scream. she threw a bit of cheese within the cave, and the bird hopped after it, flapping his clipped wings, and was silent. "i have to speak to you about pentaur," said ani. the old woman's eyes flashed, and she eagerly asked, "what of him?" "i have reasons," answered the regent, "for regarding him as dangerous to me. he stands in my way. he has committed many crimes, even murder; but he is in favor at the house of seti, and they would willingly let him go unpunished. they have the right of sitting in judgment on each other, and i cannot interfere with their decisions; the day before yesterday they pronounced their sentence. they would send him to the quarries of chennu. [chennu is now gebel silsileh; the quarries there are of enormous extent, and almost all the sandstone used for building the temples of upper egypt was brought from thence. the nile is narrower there than above, and large stela, were erected there by rameses ii. his successor mernephtah, on which were inscribed beautiful hymns to the nile, and lists of the sacrifices to be offered at the nile festivals. these inscriptions can be restored by comparison, and my friend stern and i had the satisfaction of doing this on the spot (zeitschrift fur agyptishe sprache, 1873, p. 129.)] "all my objections were disregarded, and now nemu, go over to the grave of anienophis, and wait there for me--i wish to speak to your mother alone." nemu bowed, and then went down the slope, disappointed, it is true, but sure of learning later what the two had discussed together. when the little man had disappeared, ani asked: "have you still a heart true to the old royal house, to which your parents were so faithfully attached?" the old woman nodded. "then you will not refuse your help towards its restoration. you understand how necessary the priesthood is to me, and i have sworn not to make any attempt on pentaur's life; but, i repeat it, he stands in my way. i have my spies in the house of seti, and i know through them what the sending of the poet to chennu really means. for a time they will let him hew sandstone, and that will only improve his health, for he is as sturdy as a tree. in chennu, as you know, besides the quarries there is the great college of priests, which is in close alliance with the temple of seti. when the flood begins to rise, and they hold the great nilefestival in chennu, the priests there have the right of taking three of the criminals who are working in the quarries into their house as servants. naturally they will, next year, choose pentaur, set him at liberty--and i shall be laughed at." "well considered!" said aid hekt. "i have taken counsel with myself, with katuti, and even with nemu," continued ani, "but all that they have suggested, though certainly practicable, was unadvisable, and at any rate must have led to conjectures which i must now avoid. what is your opinion?" "assa's race must be exterminated!" muttered the old woman hoarsely. she gazed at the ground, reflecting. "let the boat be scuttled," she said at last, "and sink with the chained prisoners before it reaches chennu." "no-no; i thought of that myself, and nemu too advised it," cried ani. "that has been done a hundred times, and ameni will regard me as a perjurer, for i have sworn not to attempt pentaur's life." "to be sure, thou hast sworn that, and men keep their word--to each other. wait a moment, how would this do? let the ship reach chennu with the prisoners, but, by a secret order to the captain, pass the quarries in the night, and hasten on as fast as possible as far as ethiopia. from suan,--[the modem assuan at the first cataract.]--the prisoners may be conducted through the desert to the gold workings. four weeks or even eight may pass before it is known here what has happened. if ameni attacks thee about it, thou wilt be very angry at this oversight, and canst swear by all the gods of the heavens and of the abyss, that thou hast not attempted pentaur's life. more weeks will pass in enquiries. meanwhile do thy best, and paaker do his, and thou art king. an oath is easily broken by a sceptre, and if thou wilt positively keep thy word leave pentaur at the gold mines. none have yet returned from thence. my father's and my brother's bones have bleached there." "but ameni will never believe in the mistake," cried ani, anxiously interrupting the witch. "then admit that thou gavest the order," exclaimed hekt. "explain that thou hadst learned what they proposed doing with pentaur at chennu, and that thy word indeed was kept, but that a criminal could not be left unpunished. they will make further enquiries, and if assa's grandson is found still living thou wilt be justified. follow my advice, if thou wilt prove thyself a good steward of thy house, and master of its inheritance." "it will not do," said the regent. "i need ameni's support--not for to-day and to-morrow only. i will not become his blind tool; but he must believe that i am." the old woman shrugged her shoulders, rose, went into her cave, and brought out a phial. "take this," she said. "four drops of it in his wine infallibly destroys the drinker's senses; try the drink on a slave, and thou wilt see how effectual it is." "what shall i do with it?" asked ani. "justify thyself to ameni," said the witch laughing. "order the ship's captain to come to thee as soon as he returns; entertain him with wine-and when ameni sees the distracted wretch, why should he not believe that in a fit of craziness he sailed past chennu?" "that is clever! that is splendid!" exclaimed ani. "what is once remarkable never becomes common. you were the greatest of singers--you are now the wisest of women--my lady beki." "i am no longer beki, i am hekt," said the old woman shortly. "as you will! in truth, if i had ever heard beki's singing, i should be bound to still greater gratitude to her than i now am to hekt," said ani smiling. "still, i cannot quit the wisest woman in thebes without asking her one serious question. is it given to you to read the future? have you means at your command whereby you can see whether the great stake-you know which i mean--shall be won or lost?" hekt looked at the ground, and said after reflecting a short time: "i cannot decide with certainty, but thy affair stands well. look at these two hawks with the chain on their feet. they take their food from no one but me. the one that is moulting, with closed, grey eyelids, is rameses; the smart, smooth one, with shining eyes, is thyself. it comes to this--which of you lives the longest. so far, thou hast the advantage." ani cast an evil glance at the king's sick hawk; but hekt said: "both must be treated exactly alike. fate will not be done violence to." "feed them well," exclaimed the regent; he threw a purse into hekt's lap, and added, as he prepared to leave her: "if anything happens to either of the birds let me know at once by nemu." ani went down the hill, and walked towards the neighboring tomb of his father; but hekt laughed as she looked after him, and muttered to herself: "now the fool will take care of me for the sake of his bird! that smiling, spiritless, indolent-minded man would rule egypt! am i then so much wiser than other folks, or do none but fools come to consult hekt? but rameses chose ani to represent him! perhaps because he thinks that those who are not particularly clever are not particularly dangerous. if that is what he thought, he was not wise, for no one usually is so selfconfident and insolent as just such an idiot." etext editor's bookmarks: age when usually even bad liquor tastes of honey how easy it is to give wounds, and how hard it is to heal kisra called wine the soap of sorrow no one so self-confident and insolent as just such an idiot the mother of foresight looks backwards this ebook was produced by david widger <widger@cecomet.net> [note: there is a short list of bookmarks, or pointers, at the end of the file for those who may wish to sample the author's ideas before making an entire meal of them. d.w.] the burgomaster's wife by georg ebers volume 1. translated from the german by mary j. safford baroness sophie von brandenstein, nee ebers. my reason for dedicating a book, and particularly this book, to you, the only sister of my dead father, needs no word of explanation between us. from early childhood you have been a dear and faithful friend to me, and certainly have not forgotten how industriously i labored, while your guest seventeen years ago, in arranging the material which constitutes the foundation of the "burgomaster's wife." you then took a friendly interest in many a note of facts, that had seemed to me extraordinary, admirable, or amusing, and when the claims of an arduous profession prevented me from pursuing my favorite occupation of studying the history of holland, my mother's home, in the old way, never wearied of reminding me of the fallow material, that had previously awakened your sympathy. at last i have been permitted to give the matter so long laid aside its just dues. a beautiful portion of holland's glorious history affords the espalier, around which the tendrils of my narrative entwine. you have watched them grow, and therefore will view them kindly and indulgently. in love and friendship, ever the same, georg ebers leipsic, oct. 30th, 1881. the burgomaster's wife. chapter i. in the year 1574 a. d. spring made its joyous entry into the netherlands at an unusually early date. the sky was blue, gnats sported in the sunshine, white butterflies alighted on the newly-opened yellow flowers, and beside one of the numerous ditches intersecting the wide plain stood a stork, snapping at a fine frog; the poor fellow soon writhed in its enemy's red beak. one gulp--the merry jumper vanished, and its murderer, flapping its wings, soared high into the air. on flew the bird over gardens filled with blossoming fruit-trees, trimly laid-out flower-beds, and gaily-painted arbors, across the frowning circlet of walls and towers that girdled the city, over narrow houses with high, pointed gables, and neat streets bordered with elm, poplar, linden and willow-trees, decked with the first green leaves of spring. at last it alighted on a lofty gable-roof, on whose ridge was its firmly-fastened nest. after generously giving up its prey to the little wife brooding over the eggs, it stood on one leg and gazed thoughtfully down upon the city, whose shining red tiles gleamed spick and span from the green velvet carpet of the meadows. the bird had known beautiful leyden, the gem of holland, for many a year, and was familiar with all the branches of the rhine that divided the stately city into numerous islands, and over which arched as many stone bridges as there are days in five months of the year; but surely many changes had occurred here since the stork's last departure for the south. where were the citizens' gay summer-houses and orchards, where the wooden frames on which the weavers used to stretch their dark and colored cloths? whatever plant or work of human hands had risen, outside the city walls and towers to the height of a man's breast, thus interrupting the uniformity of the plain, had vanished from the earth, and beyond, on the bird's best hunting-grounds, brownish spots sown with black circles appeared among the green of the meadows. late in october of the preceding year, just after the storks left the country, a spanish army had encamped here, and a few hours before the return of the winged wanderers in the first opening days of spring, the besiegers retired without having accomplished their purpose. barren spots amid the luxuriant growth of vegetation marked the places where they had pitched their tents, the black cinders of the burnt coals their camp-fires. the sorely-threatened inhabitants of the rescued city, with thankful hearts, uttered sighs of relief. the industrious, volatile populace had speedily forgotten the sufferings endured, for early spring is so beautiful, and never does a rescued life seem so delicious as when we are surrounded by the joys of spring. a new and happier time appeared to have dawned, not only for nature but for human beings. the troops quartered in the besieged city, which had the day before committed many an annoyance, had been dismissed with song and music. the carpenter's axe flashed in the spring sunlight before the red walls, towers and gates, and cut sharply into the beams from which new scaffolds and frames were to be erected; noble cattle grazed peacefully undisturbed around the city, whose desolated gardens were being dug, sowed and planted afresh. in the streets and houses a thousand hands, which but a short time before had guided spears and arquebuses on the walls and towers, were busy at useful work, and old people sat quietly before their doors to let the warm spring sun shine on their backs. few discontented faces were to be seen in leyden on this eighteenth of april. true, there was no lack of impatient ones, and whoever wanted to seek them need only go to the principal school, where noon was approaching and many boys gazed far more eagerly through the open windows of the school-room, than at the teacher's lips. but in that part of the spacious hall where the older lads received instruction, no restlessness prevailed. true, the spring sun shone on their books and exercises too, the spring called them into the open air, but even more powerful than its alluring voice seemed the influence exerted on their young minds by what they were now hearing. forty sparkling eyes were turned towards the bearded man, who addressed them in his deep voice. even wild jan mulder had dropped the knife with which he had begun to cut on his desk a well-executed figure of a ham, and was listening attentively. the noon bell now rang from the neighboring church, and soon after was heard from the tower of the town-hall, the little boys noisily left the room, but--strange-=the patience of the older ones still held out; they were surely hearing things that did not exactly belong to their lessons. the man who stood before them was no teacher in the school, but the city clerk, van hout, who, to-day filled the place of his sick friend, verstroot, master of arts and preacher. during the ringing of the bells he had closed the book, and now said: "'suspendo lectionem.' jan mulder, how would you translate my 'suspendere'?" "hang," replied the boy. "hang!" laughed van hout. "you might be hung from a hook perhaps, but where should we hang a lesson? adrian van der werff." the lad called rose quickly, saying: "'suspendere lectionen' means to break off the lesson." "very well; and if we wanted to hang up jan mulder, what should we say?" "patibulare--ad patibulum!" cried the scholars. van hout, who had just been smiling, grew very grave. drawing a long breath, he said: "patibulo is a bad latin word, and your fathers, who formerly sat here, understood its meaning far less thoroughly than you. now, every child in the netherlands knows it, alva has impressed it on our minds. more than eighteen thousand worthy citizens have come to the gallows through his 'ad patibulum.'" with these words he pulled his short black doublet through his girdle, advanced nearer the first desk, and bending his muscular body forward, said with constantly increasing emotion: "'this shall be enough for to-day, boys. it will do no great harm, if you afterwards forget the names earned here. but always remember one thing: your country first of all. leonidas and his three hundred spartans did not die in vain, so long as there are men ready to follow their example. your turn will come too. it is not my business to boast, but truth is truth. we hollanders have furnished fifty times three hundred men for the freedom of our native soil. in such stormy times there are steadfast men; even boys have shown themselves great. ulrich yonder, at your head, can bear his nickname of lowing with honor. 'hither persians--hither greeks!' was said in ancient times, but we cry: 'hither netherlands, hither spain!' and indeed, the proud darius never ravaged greece as king philip has devastated holland. ay, my lads, many flowers bloom in the breasts of men. among them is hatred of the poisonous hemlock. spain has sowed it in our gardens. i feel it growing within me, and you too feel and ought to feel it. but don't misunderstand me! 'hither spain--hither netherlands!' is the cry, and not: 'hither catholics and hither protestants.' every faith may be right in the lord's eyes, if only the man strives earnestly to walk in christ's ways. at the throne of heaven, it will not be asked: are you papist, calvinist, or lutheran? but: what were your intentions and acts? respect every man's belief; but despise him who makes common cause with the tyrant against the liberty of our native land. now pray silently, then you may go home." the scholars rose; van hout wiped the perspiration from his high forehead, and while the boys were collecting books, pencils, and pens, said slowly, as if apologizing to himself for the words already uttered: "what i have told you perhaps does not belong to the school-room; but, my lads, this battle is still far from being ended, and though you must occupy the school-benches for a while, you are the future soldiers. lowing, remain behind, i have something to say to you." he slowly turned his back to the boys, who rushed out of doors. in a corner of the yard of st. peter's church, which was behind the building and entered by few of the passers-by, they stood still, and from amid the wild confusion of exclamations arose a sort of consultation, to which the organ-notes echoing from the church formed a strange accompaniment. they were trying to decide upon the game to be played in the afternoon. it was a matter of course, after what van hout had said, that there should be a battle; it had not even been proposed by anybody, but the discussion that now arose proceeded from the supposition. it was soon decided that patriots and spaniards, not greeks and persians, were to appear in the lists against each other; but when the burgomaster's son, adrian van der werff, a lad of fourteen, proposed to form the two parties, and in the imperious way peculiar to him attempted to make paul van swieten and claus dirkson spaniards, he encountered violent opposition, and the troublesome circumstance was discovered that no one was willing to represent a foreign soldier. each boy wanted to make somebody else a castilian, and fight himself under the banner of the netherlands. but friends and foes are necessary for a war, and holland's heroic courage required spaniards to prove it. the youngsters grew excited, the cheeks of the disputants began to flush, here and there clenched fists were raised, and everything indicated that a horrible civil war would precede the battle to be given the foes of the country. in truth, these lively boys were ill-suited to play the part of king philip's gloomy, stiff-necked soldiers. amid the many fair heads, few lads were seen with brown locks, and only one with black hair and dark eyes. this was adam baersdorp, whose father, like van der werff's, was one of the leaders of the citizens. when he too refused to act a spaniard, one of the boys exclaimed: "you won't? yet my father says your father is half a glipper,--[the name given in holland to those who sympathized with spain]--and a whole papist to boot." at these words young baersdorp threw his books on the ground, and was rushing with upraised fist upon his enemy--but adrian van der werff hastily interposed, crying: "for shame, cornelius.--i'll stop the mouth of anybody who utters such an insult again. catholics are christians, as well as we. you heard it from van hout, and my father says so too. will you be a spaniard, adam, yes or no?" "no!" cried the latter firmly. "and if anybody else--" "you can quarrel afterward," said adrian van der werff, interrupting his excited companions, then good-naturedly picking up the books baersdorp had flung down, and handing them to him, continued resolutely, "i'll be a spaniard to-day. who else?" "i, i, i too, for aught i care," shouted several of the scholars, and the forming of the two parties would have been carried on in the best order to the end, if the boys' attention had not been diverted by a fresh incident. a young gentleman, followed by a black servant, came up the street directly towards them. he too was a netherlander, but had little in common with the school-boys except his age, a red and white complexion, fair hair, and clear blue eyes, eyes that looked arrogantly out upon the world. every step showed that he considered himself an important personage, and the gaily-costumed negro, who carried a few recently purchased articles behind him, imitated this bearing in a most comical way. the negro's head was held still farther back than the young noble's, whose stiff spanish ruff prevented him from moving his handsome head as freely as other mortals. "that ape, wibisma," said one of the school-boys, pointing to the approaching nobleman. all eyes turned towards him, scornfully scanning his little velvet hat decked with a long plume, the quilted red satin garment padded in the breast and sleeves, the huge puffs of his short brown breeches, and the brilliant scarlet silk stockings that closely fitted his well-formed limbs. "the ape," repeated paul van swieten. "he wants to be a cardinal, that's why he wears so much red." "and looks as spanish as if he came straight from madrid," cried another lad, while a third added: "the wibismas certainly were not to be found here, so long as bread was short with us." the wibismas are all glippers. "and he struts about on week-days, dressed in velvet and silk," said adrian. "just look at the black boy the red-legged stork has brought with him to leyden." the scholars burst into a loud laugh, and as soon as the youth had reached them, paul van swieten snarled in a nasal tone: "how did deserting suit you? how are affairs in spain, master glipper?" the young noble raised his head still higher, the negro did the same, and both walked quietly on, even when adrian shouted in his ear: "little glipper, tell me, for how many pieces of silver did judas sell the saviour?" young matanesse van wibisma made an indignant gesture, but controlled himself until jan mulder stepped in front of him, holding his little cloth cap, into which he had thrust a hen's feather, under his chin like a beggar, and saying humbly: "give me a little shrove-money for our tom-cat, sir grandee; he stole a leg of veal from the butcher yesterday." "out of my way!" said the youth in a haughty, resolute tone, trying to push mulder aside with the back of his hand. "hands off, glipper!" cried the school-boys, raising their clenched hands threateningly. "then let me alone," replied wibisma, "i want no quarrel, least of all with you." "why not with us?" asked adrian van der werff, irritated by the supercilious, arrogant tone of the last words. the youth shrugged his shoulders, but adrian cried: "because you like your spanish costume better than our doublets of leyden cloth." here he paused, for jan mulder stole behind wibisma, struck his hat down on his head with a book, and while nicolas van wibisma was trying to free his eyes from the covering that shaded them, exclaimed: "there, sir grandee, now the little hat sits firm! you can keep it on, even before the king." the negro could not go to his master's assistance, for his arms were filled with parcels, but the young noble did not call him, knowing how cowardly his black servant was, and feeling strong enough to help himself. a costly clasp, which he had just received as a gift on his seventeenth birthday, confined the plume in his hat; but without a thought he flung it aside, stretched out his arms as if for a wrestling-match, and with florid cheeks, asked in a loud, resolute tone: "who did that?" jan mulder had hastily retreated among his companions, and instead of coming forward and giving his name, called: "look for the hat-fuller, glipper! we'll play blindman's buff." the youth, frantic with rage, repeated his question. when, instead of any other answer, the boys entered into jan mulder's jest, shouting gaily: "yes, play blind-man's buff! look for the hat-fuller. come, little glipper, begin." nicolas could contain himself no longer, but shouted furiously to the laughing throng: "cowardly rabble!" scarcely had the words been uttered, when paul van swieten raised his grammar, bound in hog-skin, and hurled it at wibisma's breast. other books followed, amid loud outcries, striking him on the legs and shoulders. bewildered, he shielded his face with his hands and retreated to the church-yard wall, where he stood still and prepared to rush upon his foes. the stiff, fashionable high spanish ruff no longer confined his handsome head with its floating golden locks. freely and boldly he looked his enemies in the face, stretched the young limbs hardened by many a knightly exercise, and with a true netherland oath sprang upon adrian van der werff, who stood nearest. after a short struggle, the burgomaster's son, inferior in strength and age to his opponent, lay extended on the ground; but the other lads, who had not ceased shouting, "glipper, glipper," seized the young noble, who was kneeling on his vanquished foe. nicolas struggled bravely, but his enemies' superior power was too great. frantic with fury, wild with rage and shame, he snatched the dagger from his belt. the boys now raised a frightful yell, and two of them rushed upon nicolas to wrest the weapon from him. this was quickly accomplished; the dagger flew on the pavement, but van swieten sprang back with a low cry, for the sharp blade had struck his arm, and the bright blood streamed on the ground. for several minutes the shouts of the lads and the piteous cries of the black page drowned the beautiful melody of the organ, pouring from the windows of the church. suddenly the music ceased; instead of the intricate harmony the slowly-dying note of a single pipe was heard, and a young man rushed out of the door of the sacristy of the house of god. he quickly perceived the cause of the wild uproar that had interrupted his practising, and a smile flitted over the handsome face which, framed by a closely-cut beard, had just looked startled enough, though the reproving words and pushes with which he separated the enraged lads were earnest enough, and by no means failed to produce their effect. the boys knew the musician, wilhelm corneliussohn, and offered no resistance, for they liked him, and his dozen years of seniority gave him an undisputed authority among them. not a hand was again raised against wibisma, but the boys, all shouting and talking together, crowded around the organist to accuse nicolas and defend themselves. paul van swieten's wound was slight. he stood outside the circle of his companions, supporting the injured left arm with his right hand. he frequently blew upon the burning spot in his flesh, over which a bit of cloth was wrapped, but curiosity concerning the result of this entertaining brawl was stronger than the wish to have it bandaged and healed. as the peace-maker's work was already drawing to a close, the wounded lad, pointing with his sound hand in the direction of the school, suddenly called warningly: "there comes herr von nordwyk. let the glipper go, or there will be trouble." paul van swieten again clasped his wounded arm with his right hand and ran swiftly around the church. several other boys followed, but the newcomer of whom they were afraid, a man scarcely thirty years old, had legs of considerable length, and knew how to use them bravely. "stop, boys!" he shouted in an echoing voice of command. "stop! what has happened here?" every one in leyden respected the learned and brave young nobleman, so all the lads who had not instantly obeyed van swieten's warning shout, stood still until herr von nordwyk reached them. a strange, eager light sparkled in this man's clever eyes, and a subtle smile hovered around his moustached lip, as he called to the musician: "what has happened here, meister wilhelm? didn't the clamor of minerva's apprentices harmonize with your organ-playing, or did--but by all the colors of iris, that's surely nico matanesse, young wibisma! and how he looks! brawling in the shadow of the church--and you here too, adrian, and you, meister wilhelm?" "i separated them," replied the other quietly, smoothing his rumpled cuffs. "with perfect calmness, but impressively--like your organ-music," said the commander, laughing. "who began the fight? you, young sir? or the others?" nicolas, in his excitement, shame, and indignation, could find no coherent words, but adrian came forward saying: "we wrestled together. don't be too much vexed with us, herr janus." nicolas cast a friendly glance at his foe. herr von nordwyk, jan van der does, or as a learned man he preferred to call himself, janus dousa, was by no means satisfied with this information, but exclaimed: "patience, patience! you look suspicious enough, meister adrian; come here and tell me, 'atrekeos,' according to the truth, what has been going on." the boy obeyed the command and told his story honestly, without concealing or palliating anything that had occurred. "hm," said dousa, after the lad had finished his report. "a difficult case. no one is to be acquitted. your cause would be the better one, had it not been for the knife, my fine young nobleman, but you, adrian, and you, you chubby-cheeked rascals, who--there comes the rector--if he catches you, you'll certainly see nothing but four walls the rest of this beautiful day. i should be sorry for that." the chubby-cheeked rascals, and adrian also, understood this hint, and without stopping to take leave scampered around the corner of the church like a flock of doves pursued by a hawk. as soon as they had vanished, the commander approached young nicolas, saying: "vexatious business! what was right to them is just to you. go to your home. are you visiting your aunt?" "yes, my lord," replied the young noble. "is your father in the city too?" nicolas was silent. "he doesn't wish to be seen?" nicolas nodded assent, and dousa continued: "leyden stands open to every netherlander, even to you. to be sure, if you go about like king philip's page, and show contempt to your equals, you must endure the consequences yourself. there lies the dagger, my young friend, and there is your hat. pick them up, and remember that such a weapon is no toy. many a man has spoiled his whole life, by thoughtlessly using one a single moment. the superior numbers that pressed upon you may excuse you. but how will you get to your aunt's house in that tattered doublet?" "my cloak is in the church," said the musician, "i'll give it to the young gentleman." "bravo, meister wilhelm !" replied dousa. "wait here, my little master, and then go home. i wish the time, when your father would value my greeting, might come again. do you know why it is no longer pleasant to him?" "no, my lord." "then i'll tell you. because he is fond of spain, and i cling to the netherlands." "we are netherlanders as well as you," replied nicolas with glowing cheeks. "scarcely," answered dousa calmly, putting his hand up to his thin chin, and intending to add a kinder word to the sharp one, when the youth vehemently exclaimed: "take back that 'scarcely,' herr von nordwyk." dousa gazed at the bold lad in surprise, and again an expression of amusement hovered about his lips. then he said kindly: "i like you, herr nicolas; and shall rejoice if you wish to become a true hollander. there comes meister wilhelm with his cloak. give me your hand. no, not this one, the other." nicolas hesitated, but janus grasped the boy's right hand in both of his, bent his tall figure to the latter's ear, and said in so low a tone that the musician could not understand: "ere we part, take with you this word of counsel from one who means kindly. chains, even golden ones, drag us down, but liberty gives wings. you shine in the glittering splendor, but we strike the spanish chains with the sword, and i devote myself to our work. remember these words, and if you choose repeat them to your father." janus dousa turned his back on the boy, waved a farewell to the musician, and went away. chapter ii. young adrian hurried down the werffsteg, which had given his family its name. he heeded neither the lindens on both sides, amid whose tops the first tiny green leaves were forcing their way out of the pointed buds, nor the birds that flew hither and thither among the hospitable boughs of the stately trees, building their nests and twittering to each other, for he had no thought in his mind except to reach home as quickly as possible. beyond the bridge spanning the achtergracht, he paused irresolutely before a large building. the knocker hung on the central door, but he did not venture to lift it and let it fall on the shining plate beneath, for he could expect no pleasant reception from his family. his doublet had fared ill during his struggle with his stronger enemy. the torn neck-ruffles had been removed from their proper place and thrust into his pocket, and the new violet stocking on his right leg, luckless thing, had been so frayed by rubbing on the pavement, that a large yawning rent showed far more of adrian's white knee than was agreeable to him. the peacock feather in his little velvet cap could easily be replaced, but the doublet was torn, not ripped, and the stocking scarcely capable of being mended. the boy was sincerely sorry, for his father had bade him take good care of the stuff to save money; during these times there were hard shifts in the big house, which with its three doors, triple gables adorned with beautifully-arched volutes, and six windows in the upper and lower stories, fronted the werffsteg in a very proud, stately guise. the burgomaster's office did not bring in a large income, and adrian's grandfather's trade of preparing chamois leather, as well as the business in skins, was falling off; his father had other matters in his head, matters that claimed not only his intellect, strength and time, but also every superfluous farthing. adrian had nothing pleasant to expect at home--certainly not from his father, far less from his aunt barbara. yet the boy dreaded the anger of these two far less, than a single disapproving glance from the eyes of the young wife, whom he had called "mother" scarcely a twelve month, and who was only six years his senior. she never said an unkind word to him, but his defiance and wildness melted before her beauty, her quiet, aristocratic manner. he scarcely knew himself whether he loved her or not, but she appeared like the good fairy of whom the fairy tales spoke, and it often seemed as if she were far too delicate, dainty and charming for her simple, unpretending home. to see her smile rendered the boy happy, and when she looked sad--a thing that often happened-it made his heart ache. merciful heavens! she certainly could not receive him kindly when she saw his doublet, the ruffles thrust into his pocket, and his unlucky stockings. and then! there were the bells ringing again! the dinner hour had long since passed, and his father waited for no one. whoever came too late must go without, unless aunt barbara took compassion on him in the kitchen. but what was the use of pondering and hesitating? adrian summoned up all his courage, clenched his teeth, clasped his right hand still closer around the torn ruffles in his pocket, and struck the knocker loudly on the steel plate beneath. trautchen, the old maid-servant, opened the door, and in the spacious, dusky entrance-hall, where the bales of leather were packed closely together, did not notice the dilapidation of his outer man. he hurried swiftly up the stairs. the dining-room door was open, and--marvellous--the table was still untouched, his father must have remained at the town-hall longer than usual. adrian rushed with long leaps to his little attic room, dressed himself neatly, and entered the presence of his family before the master of the house had asked the blessing. the doublet and stocking could be confided to the hands of aunt barbara or trautchen, at some opportune hour. adrian sturdily attacked the smoking dishes; but his heart soon grew heavy, for his father did not utter a word, and gazed into vacancy as gravely and anxiously as at the time when misery entered the beleagured city. the boy's young step-mother sat opposite her husband, and often glanced at peter van der werff's grave face to win a loving glance from him. whenever she did so in vain, she pushed her soft, golden hair back from her forehead, raised her beautiful head higher, or bit her lips and gazed silently into her plate. in reply to aunt barbara's questions: "what happened at the council? has the money for the new bell been collected? will jacob van sloten rent you the meadow?" he made curt, evasive replies. the steadfast man, who sat so silently with frowning brow among his family, sometimes attacking the viands on his plate, then leaving them untouched, did not look like one who yields to idle whims. all present, even the men and maid-servants, were still devoting themselves to the food, when the master of the house rose, and pressing both hands over the back of his head, which was very prominently developed, exclaimed groaning: "i can hold out no longer. do you give thanks, maria. go to the townhall, janche, and ask if no messenger has yet arrived." the man-servant wiped his mouth and instantly obeyed. he was a tall, broad-shouldered frieselander, but only reached to his master's forehead. peter van der werff, without any form of salutation, turned his back on his family, opened the door leading into his study, and after crossing the threshold, closed it with a bang, approached the big oak writingdesk, on which papers and letters lay piled in heaps, secured by rough leaden weights, and began to rummage among the newly-arrived documents. for fifteen minutes he vainly strove to fix the necessary attention upon his task, then grasped his study-chair to rest his folded arms on the high, perforated back, adorned with simple carving, and gazed thoughtfully at the wooden wainscoting of the ceiling. after a few minutes he pushed the chair aside with his foot, raised his hand to his mouth, separated his moustache from his thick brown beard, and went to the window. the small, round, leaden-cased panes, however brightly they might be polished, permitted only a narrow portion of the street to be seen, but the burgomaster seemed to have found the object for which he had been looking. hastily opening the window, he called to his servant, who was hurriedly approaching the house: "is he in, janche?" the frieselander shook his head, the window again closed, and a few minutes after the burgomaster seized his hat, which hung, between some cavalry pistols and a plain, substantial sword, on the only wall of his room not perfectly bare. the torturing anxiety that filled his mind, would no longer allow him to remain in the house. he would have his horse saddled, and ride to meet the expected messenger. ere leaving the room, he paused a moment lost in thought, then approached the writing-table to sign some papers intended for the town-hall; for his return might be delayed till night. still standing, he looked over the two sheets he had spread out before him, and seized the pen. just at that moment the door of the room gently opened, and the fresh sand strewn over the white boards creaked under a light foot. he doubtless heard it, but did not allow himself to be interrupted. his wife was now standing close behind him. four and twenty years his junior, she seemed like a timid girl, as she raised her arm, yet did not venture to divert her husband's attention from his business. she waited quietly till he had signed the first paper, then turned her pretty head aside, and blushing faintly, exclaimed with downcast eyes: "it is i, peter!" "very well, my child," he answered curtly, raising the second paper nearer his eyes. "peter!" she exclaimed a second time, still more eagerly, but with timidity. "i have something to tell you." van der werff turned his head, cast a hasty, affectionate glance at her, and said: "now, child? you see i am busy, and there is my hat." "but peter!" she replied, a flash of something like indignation sparkling in her eyes, as she continued in a voice pervaded with a slightly perceptible tone of complaint: "we haven't said anything to each other to-day. my heart is so full, and what i would fain say to you is, must surely--" "when i come home maria, not now," he interrupted, his deep voice sounding half impatient, half beseeching. "first the city and the country--then love-making." at these words, maria raised her head proudly, and answered with quivering lips: "that is what you have said ever since the first day of our marriage." "and unhappily--unhappily--i must continue to say so until we reach the goal," he answered firmly. the blood mounted into the young wife's delicate cheeks, and with quickened breathing, she answered in a hasty, resolute tone: "yes, indeed, i have known these words ever since your courtship, and as i am my father's daughter never opposed them, but now they are no longer suited to us, and should be: 'everything for the country, and nothing at all for the wife.'" van der werff laid down his pen and turned full towards her. maria's slender figure seemed to have grown taller, and the blue eyes, swimming in tears, flashed proudly. this life-companion seemed to have been created by god especially for him. his heart opened to her, and frankly stretching out both hands, he said tenderly: "you know how matters are! this heart is changeless, and other days will come." "when?" asked maria, in a tone as mournful as if she believed in no happier future. "soon," replied her husband firmly. "soon, if only each one gives willingly what our native land demands." at these words the young wife loosed her hands from her husband's, for the door had opened and barbara called to her brother from the threshold. "herr matanesse van wibisma, the glipper, is in the entry and wants to speak to you." "show him up," said the burgomaster reluctantly. when again alone with his wife, he asked hastily "will you be indulgent and help me?" she nodded assent, trying to smile. he saw that she was sad and, as this grieved him, held out his hand to her again, saying: "better days will come, when i shall be permitted to be more to you than to-day. what were you going to say just now?" "whether you know it or not--is of no importance to the state." "but to you. then lift up your head again, and look at me. quick, love, for they are already on the stairs." "it isn't worth mentioning--a year ago to-day--we might celebrate the anniversary of our wedding to-day." "the anniversary of our wedding-day!" he cried, striking his hands loudly together. "yes, this is the seventeenth of april, and i have forgotten it." he drew her tenderly towards him, but just at that moment the door opened, and adrian ushered the baron into the room. van der werff bowed courteously to the infrequent guest, then called to his blushing wife, who was retiring: "my congratulations! i'll come later. adrian, we are to celebrate a beautiful festival to-day, the anniversary of our marriage." the boy glided swiftly out of the door, which he still held in his hand, for he suspected the aristocratic visitor boded him no good. in the entry he paused to think, then hurried up the stairs, seized his plumeless cap, and rushed out of doors. he saw his school-mates, armed with sticks and poles, ranging themselves in battle array, and would have liked to join the game of war, but for that very reason preferred not to listen to the shouts of the combatants at that moment, and ran towards the zylhof until beyond the sound of their voices. he now checked his steps, and in a stooping posture, often on his knees, followed the windings of a narrow canal that emptied into the rhine. as soon as his cap was overflowing with the white, blue, and yellow spring flowers he had gathered, he sat down on a boundary stone, and with sparkling eyes bound them into a beautiful bouquet, with which he ran home. on the bench beside the gate sat the old maidservant with his little sister, a child six years old. handing the flowers, which he had kept hidden behind his back, to her, he said: "take them and carry them to mother, bessie; this is the anniversary of her wedding-day. give her warm congratulations too, from us both." the child rose, and the old servant said, "you are a good boy, adrian." "do you think so?" he asked, all the sins of the forenoon returning to his mind. but unluckily they caused him no repentance; on the contrary, his eyes began to sparkle mischievously, and a smile hovered around his lips, as he patted the old woman's shoulder, whispering softly in her ear: "the hair flew to-day, trautchen. my doublet and new stockings are lying up in my room under the bed. nobody can mend as well as you." trautchen shook her finger at him, but he turned hastily back and ran towards the zyl-gate, this time to lead the spaniards against the netherlanders. chapter iii. the burgomaster had pressed the nobleman to sit down in the study-chair, while he himself leaned in a half-sitting attitude on the writing-table, listening somewhat impatiently to his distinguished guest. "before speaking of more important things," herr matanesse van wibisma had begun, "i should like to appeal to you, as a just man, for some punishment for the injury my son has sustained in this city." "speak," said the burgomaster, and the nobleman now briefly, and with unconcealed indignation, related the story of the attack upon his son at the church. "i'll inform the rector of the annoying incident," replied van der werff, "and the culprits will receive their just dues; but pardon me, noble sir, if i ask whether any inquiry has been made concerning the cause of the quarrel?" herr matanesse van wibisma looked at the burgomaster in surprise and answered proudly: "you know my son's report." "both sides must be fairly heard," replied van der werff calmly. "that has been the custom of the netherlands from ancient times." "my son bears my name and speaks the truth." "our boys are called simply leendert or adrian or gerrit, but they do the same, so i must beg you to send the young gentleman to the examination at the school." "by no means," answered the knight resolutely. "if i had thought the matter belonged to the rector's department, i should have sought him and not you, herr peter. my son has his own tutor, and was not attacked in your school, which in any case he has outgrown, for he is seventeen, but in the public street, whose security it is the burgomaster's duty to guard." "very well then, make your complaint, take the youth before the judges, summon witnesses and let the law follow its course. but, sir," continued van der werff, softening the impatience in his voice, "were you not young yourself once? have you entirely forgotten the fights under the citadel? what pleasure will it afford you, if we lock up a few thoughtless lads for two days this sunny weather? the scamps will find something amusing to do indoors, as well as out, and only the parents will be punished." the last words were uttered so cordially and pleasantly, that they could not fail to have their effect upon the baron. he was a handsome man, whose refined, agreeable features, of the true netherland type, expressed anything rather than severity. "if you speak to me in this tone, we shall come to an agreement more easily," he answered, smiling. "i will only say this. had the brawl arisen in sport, or from some boyish quarrel, i wouldn't have wasted a word on the matter--but that children already venture to assail with jeers and violence those who hold different opinions, ought not to be permitted to pass without reproof. the boys shouted after my son the absurd word--" "it is certainly an insult," interrupted van der werff, "a very disagreeable name, that our people bestow on the enemies of their liberty." the baron rose, angrily confronting the other. "who tells you," he cried, striking his broad breast, padded with silken puffs, "who tells you that we grudge holland her liberty? we desire, just as earnestly as you, to win it back to the states, but by other, straighter paths than orange--" "i cannot test here whether your paths are crooked or straight," retorted van der werff; "but i do know this--they are labyrinths." "they will lead to the heart of philip, our king and yours." "yes, if he only had what we in holland call a heart," replied the other, smiling bitterly; but wibisma threw his head back vehemently, exclaiming reproachfully: "sir burgomaster, you are speaking of the anointed prince to whom i have sworn fealty." "baron matanesse," replied van der werff, in a tone of deep earnestness, as he drew himself up to his full height, folded his arms, and looked the nobleman sharply in the eye, "i speak rather of the tyrant, whose bloody council declared all who bore the netherland name, and you among us, criminals worthy of death; who, through his destroying devil, alva, burned, beheaded, and hung thousands of honest men, robbed and exiled from the country thousands of others, i speak of the profligate--" "enough!" cried the knight, clenching the hilt of his sword. "who gives you the right--" "who gives me the right to speak so bitterly, you would ask?" interrupted peter van der werff, meeting the nobleman's eyes with a gloomy glance. "who gives me this right? i need not conceal it. it was bestowed by the silent lips of my valiant father, beheaded for the sake of his faith, by the arbitrary decree, that without form of law, banished my brother and myself from the country--by the spaniards' broken vows, the torn charters of this land, the suffering of the poor, ill-treated, worthy people that will perish if we do not save them." "you will not save them," replied wibisma in a calmer tone. "you will push those tottering on the verge of the abyss completely over the precipice, and go to destruction with them." "we are pilots. perhaps we shall bring deliverance, perhaps we shall go to ruin with those for whom we are ready to die." "you say that, and yet a young, blooming wife binds you to life." "baron, you have crossed this threshold as complainant to the burgomaster, not as guest or friend." "quite true, but i came with kind intentions, as monitor to the guiding head of this beautiful, hapless city. you have escaped the storm once, but new and far heavier ones are gathering above your heads." "we do not fear them." "not even now?" "now, with good reason, far less than ever." "then you don't know the prince's brother--" "louis of nassau was close upon the spaniards on the 14th, and our cause is doing well--" "it certainly did not fare ill at first." "the messenger, who yesterday evening--" "ours came this morning." "this morning, you say? and what more--" "the prince's army was defeated and utterly destroyed on mook heath. louis of nassau himself was slain." van der werff pressed his fingers firmly on the wood of the writingtable. the fresh color of his cheeks and lips had yielded to a livid pallor, and his mouth quivered painfully as he asked in a low, hollow tone, "louis dead, really dead?" "dead," replied the baron firmly, though sorrowfully. "we were enemies, but louis was a noble youth. i mourn him with you." "dead, william's favorite dead!" murmured the burgomaster as if in a dream. then, controlling himself by a violent effort, he said, firmly: "pardon me, noble sir. time is flying. i must go to the town-hall." "and spite of my message, you will continue to uphold rebellion?" "yes, my lord, as surely as i am a hollander." "do you remember the fate of haarlem?" "i remember her citizens' resistance, and the rescued alkmaar." "man, man!" cried the baron. "by all that sacred, i implore you to be circumspect." "enough, baron, i must go to the town-hall." "no, only this one more word, this one word. i know you upbraid us as 'glippers,' deserters, but as truly as i hope for god's mercy, you misjudge us. no, herr peter, no, i am no traitor! i love this country and this brave, industrious people with the same love as yourself, for its blood flows in my veins also. i signed the compromise. here i stand, sir. look at me. do i look like a judas? do i look like a spaniard? can you blame me for faithfully keeping the oath i gave the king? when did we of the netherlands ever trifle with vows? you, the friend of orange, have just declared that you did not grudge any man the faith to which he clung, and i will not doubt it. well, i hold firmly to the old church, i am a catholic and shall remain one. but in this hour i frankly confess, that i hate the inquisition and alva's bloody deeds as much as you do. they have as little connection with our religion as iconoclasm had with yours like you, i love the freedom of our home. to win it back is my endeavor, as well as yours. but how can a little handful like us ever succeed in finally resisting the most powerful kingdom in the world? though we conquer once, twice, thrice, two stronger armies will follow each defeated one. we shall accomplish nothing by force, but may do much by wise concession and prudent deeds. philip's coffers are empty; he needs his armies too in other countries. well then, let us profit by his difficulties, and force him to ratify some lost liberty for every revolted city that returns to him. let us buy from his hands, with what remains of our old wealth, the rights he has wrested from us while fighting against the rebels. you will find open hands with me and those who share my opinions. your voice weighs heavily in the council of this city. you are the friend of orange, and if you could induce him--" "to do what, noble sir?" "to enter into an alliance with us. we know that those in madrid understand how to estimate his importance and fear him. let us stipulate, as the first condition, a full pardon for him and his faithful followers. king philip, i know, will receive him into favor again--" "in his arms to strangle him," replied the burgomaster resolutely. "have you forgotten the false promises of pardon made in former times, the fate of egmont and horn, the noble montigney and other lords? they ventured it and entered the tiger's den. what we buy to-day will surely be taken from us tomorrow, for what oath would be sacred to philip? i am no statesman, but i know this--if he would restore all our liberties, he will never grant the one thing, without which life is valueless." "what is that, herr peter?" "the privilege of believing according to the dictates of our hearts. you mean fairly, noble sir;--but you trust the spaniard, we do not; if we did, we should be deceived children. you have nothing to fear for your religion, we everything; you believe that the number of troops and power of gold will turn the scales in our conflict, we comfort ourselves with the hope, that god will give victory to the good cause of a brave people, ready to suffer a thousand deaths for liberty. this is my opinion, and i shall defend it in the town-hall." "no, meister peter, no! you cannot, ought not." "what i can do is little, what i ought to do is written within, and i shall act accordingly." "and thus obey the sorrowing heart rather than the prudent head, and be able to give naught save evil counsel. consider, man, orange's last army was destroyed on mock heath." "true, my lord, and for that very reason we will not use the moments for words, but deeds." "i'll take the hint myself, herr van der werf, for many friends of the king still dwell in leyden, who must be taught not to follow you blindly to the shambles." at these words van der werff retreated from the nobleman, clenched his moustache firmly in his right hand, and raising his deep voice to a louder tone, said coldly and imperiously: "then, as guardian of the safety of this city, i command you to quit leyden instantly. if you are found within these walls after noon tomorrow, i will have you taken across the frontiers by the city-guard." the baron withdrew without any form of leave-taking. as soon as the door had closed behind him, van der werff, threw himself into his arm-chair and covered his face with his hands. when he again sat erect, two large tear-drops sparkled on the paper which had lain under his fingers. smiling bitterly, he wiped them from the page with the back of his hand. "dead, dead," he murmured, and the image of the gallant youth, the clever mediator, the favorite of william of orange, rose before his mind--he asked himself how this fresh stroke of fate would affect the prince, whom he revered as the providence of the country, admired and loved as the wisest, most unselfish of men. william's affliction grieved him as sorely as if it had fallen upon himself, and the blow that had struck the cause of freedom was a heavy one, perhaps never to be overcome. yet he only granted himself a short time to indulge in grief, for the point in question now was to summon all the nation's strength to repair what was lost, avert by vigorous acts the serious consequences which threatened to follow louis's defeat, and devise fresh means to carry on the war. he paced up and down the room with frowning brow, inventing measures and pondering over plans. his wife had opened the door, and now remained standing on the threshold, but he did not notice her until she called his name and advanced towards him. in her hand she held part of the flowers the boy had brought, another portion adorned her bosom. "take it," she said, offering him the bouquet. "adrian, dear boy, gathered them, and you surely know what they mean." he willingly took the messengers of spring, raised them to his face, drew maria to his breast, pressed a long kiss upon her brow, and then said gloomily: "so this is the celebration of the first anniversary of our wedding-day. poor wife! the glipper was not so far wrong; perhaps it would have been wiser and better for me not to bind your fate to mine." "how can such thoughts enter your mind, peter!" she exclaimed reproachfully. "louis of nassau has fallen," he murmured in a hollow tone, "his army is scattered." "oh-oh!" cried maria, clasping her hands in horror, but he continued: "it was our last body of troops. the coffers are empty, and where we are to obtain new means, and what will happen now--this, this--leave me, maria, i beg you. if we don't profit by the time now, if we don't find the right paths now, we shall not, cannot prosper." with these words he threw the bouquet on the table, hastily seized a paper, looked into it, and, without glancing at her, waved his right hand. the young wife's heart had been full, wide open, when she entered the room. she had expected so much that was beautiful from this hour, and now stood alone in the apartment he still shared with her. her arms had fallen by her side; helpless, mortified, wounded, she gazed at him in silence. maria had grown up amid the battle for freedom, and knew how to estimate the grave importance of the tidings her husband had received. during his wooing he had told her that, by his side, she must expect a life full of anxiety and peril, yet she had joyously gone to the altar with the brave champion of the good cause, which had been her father's, for she had hoped to become the sharer of his cares and struggles. and now? what was she permitted to be to him? what did he receive from her? what had he consented to share with her, who could not feel herself a feeble woman, on this, the anniversary of their wedding-day. there she stood, her open heart slowly closing and struggling against her longing to cry out to him, and say that she would as gladly bear his cares with him and share every danger, as happiness and honor. the burgomaster, having now found what he sought, seized his hat and again looked at his wife. how pale and disappointed she was! his heart ached; he would so gladly have given expression in words to the great, warm love he felt for her, offered her joyous congratulations; but in this hour, amid his grief, with such anxieties burdening his breast, he could not do it, so he only held out both hands, saying tenderly: "you surely know what you are to me, maria, if you do not, i will tell you this evening. i must meet the members of the council at the townhall, or a whole day will be lost, and at this time we must be avaricious even of the moments. well, maria?" the young wife was gazing at the floor. she would gladly have flown to his breast, but offended pride would not suffer her to do so, and some mysterious power bound her hands and did not permit her to lay them in his. "farewell," she said in a hollow tone. "maria!" he exclaimed reproachfully. "to-day is no well-chosen time for pouting. come and be my sensible wife." she did not move instantly; but he heard the bell ring for the fourth hour, the time when the session of the council ended, and left the room without looking back at her. the little bouquet still lay on the writing-table; the young wife saw it, and with difficulty restrained her tears. chapter iv. countless citizens had flocked to the stately townhall. news of louis of nassau's defeat had spread quickly through all the eighteen wards of the city, and each wanted to learn farther particulars, express his grief and fears to those who held the same views, and hear what measures the council intended to adopt for the immediate future. two messengers had only too thoroughly confirmed baron matanesse van wibisma's communication. louis was dead, his brother henry missing, and his army completely destroyed. jan van hout, who had taught the boys that morning, now came to a window, informed the citizens what a severe blow the liberty of the country had received, and in vigorous words exhorted them to support the good cause with body and soul. loud cheers followed this speech. gay caps and plumed hats were tossed in the air, canes and swords were waved, and the women and children, who had crowded among the men, fluttered their handkerchiefs, and with their shriller voices drowned the shouts of the citizens. the members of the valiant city-guard assembled, to charge their captain to give the council the assurance, that the "schutterij" was ready to support william of orange to the last penny and drop of their blood, and would rather die for the cause of holland, than live under spanish tyranny. among them was seen many a grave, deeply-troubled face; for these men, who filled its ranks by their own choice, all loved william of orange: his sorrow hurt them--and their country's distress pierced their hearts. as soon as the four burgomasters, the eight magistrates of the city, and the members of the common council appeared at the windows, hundreds of voices joined in the geusenlied,--[beggars' song or hymn. beggar was the name given to the patriots by those who sympathized with spain.]--which had long before been struck up by individuals, and when at sunset the volatile populace scattered and, still singing, turned, either singly or by twos or threes, towards the taverns, to strengthen their confidence in better days and dispel many a well-justified anxiety by drink, the market-place of leyden and its adjoining streets presented no different aspect, than if a message of victory had been read from the town-hall. the cheers and beggars' song had sounded very powerful--but so many hundreds of dutch throats would doubtless have been capable of shaking the air with far mightier tones. this very remark had been made by the three welldressed citizens, who were walking through the wide street, past the blue stone, and the eldest said to his companions: "they boast and shout and seem large to themselves now, but we shall see that things will soon be very different." "may god avert the worst!" replied the other, "but the spaniards will surely advance again, and i know many in my ward who won't vote for resistance this time." "they are right, a thousand times right. requesens is not alva, and if we voluntarily seek the king's pardon--" "there would be no blood shed and everything would take the best course." "i have more love for holland than for spain," said the third. "but, after mook-heath, resistance is a thing of the past. orange may be an excellent prince, but the shirt is closer than the coat." "and in fact we risk our lives and fortunes merely for him." "my wife said so yesterday." "he'll be the last man to help trade. believe me, many think as we do, if it were not so, the beggars' song would have sounded louder." "there will always be five fools to three wise men," said the older citizen. "i took good care not to split my mouth." "and after all, what great thing is there behind this outcry for freedom? alva burnt the bible-readers, de la marck hangs the priests. my wife likes to go to mass, but always does so secretly, as if she were committing a crime." "we, too, cling to the good old faith." "never mind faith," said the third. we are calvinists, but i take no pleasure in throwing my pennies into orange's maw, nor can it gratify me to again tear up the poles before the cow-gate, ere the wind dries the yarn." "only let us hold together," advised the older man. "people don't express their real opinions, and any poor ragged devil might play the hero. but i tell you there will be sensible men enough in every ward, every guild, nay, even in the council, and among the burgomasters." "hush," whispered the second citizen, "there comes van der werff with the city clerk and young van der does; they are the worst of all." the three persons named came down the broad street, talking eagerly together, but in low tones. "my uncle is right, meister peter," said jan van der does, the same tall young noble, who, on the morning of that day, had sent nicolas van wibisma home with a kindly warning. "it's no use, you must seek the prince and consult with him." "i suppose i must," replied the burgomaster. "i'll go to-morrow morning." "not to-morrow," replied van hout. "the prince rides fast, and if you don't find him in delft--" "do you go first," urged the burgomaster, "you have the record of our session." "i cannot; but to-day you, the prince's friend, for the first time lack good-will." "you are right, jan," exclaimed the burgomaster, "and you shall know what holds me back." "if it is anything a friend can do for you, here he stands," said von nordwyk. van der werff grasped the hand the young nobleman extended, and answered, smiling: "no, my lord, no. you know my young wife. to-day we should have celebrated the first anniversary of our marriage, and amid all these anxieties i disgracefully forgot it." "hard, hard," said van hout, softly. then he drew himself up to his full height, and added resolutely: "and yet, were i in your place, i would go, in spite of her." "would you go to-day?" "to-day, for to-morrow it may be too late. who knows how soon egress from the city may be stopped and, before again venturing the utmost, we must know the prince's opinion. you possess more of his confidence than any of us." "and god knows how gladly i would bring him a cheering word in these sorrowful hours; but it must not be to-day. the messenger has ridden off on my bay." "then take my chestnut, he is faster too," said janus dousa and van der werff answered hastily. "thanks, my lord. i'll send for him early tomorrow morning." the blood mounted to van hout's head and, thrusting his hand angrily between his girdle and doublet, he exclaimed: "send me the chestnut, if the burgomaster will give me leave of absence." "no, send him to me," replied peter calmly. "what must be, must be; i'll go to-day." van hout's manly features quickly smoothed and, clasping the burgomaster's right hand in both his, he said joyously: "thanks, herr peter. and no offence; you know my hot temper. if the time seems long to your young wife, send her to mine." "and mine," added dousa. "it's a strange thing about those two little words 'wish' and 'ought.' the freer and better a man becomes, the more surely the first becomes the slave of the second. "and yet, herr peter, i'll wager that your wife will confound the two words to-day, and think you have sorely transgressed against the 'ought.' these are bad times for the 'wish.'" van der werff nodded assent, then briefly and firmly explained to his friends what he intended to disclose to the prince. the three men separated before the burgomaster's house. "tell the prince," said van hout, on parting, "that we are prepared for the worst, will endure and dare it." at these words janus dousa measured both his companions with his eyes, his lips quivered as they always did when any strong emotion filled his heart, and while his shrewd face beamed with joy and confidence, he exclaimed: "we three will hold out, we three will stand firm, the tyrant may break our necks, but he shall not bend them. life, fortune, all that is dear and precious and useful to man, we will resign for the highest of blessings." "ay," said van der werff, loudly and earnestly, while van hout impetuously repeated: "yes, yes, thrice yes." the three men, so united in feeling, grasped each other's hands firmly for a moment. a silent vow bound them in this hour, and when herr von nordwyk and van hout turned in opposite directions, the citizens who met them thought their tall figures had grown taller still within the last few hours. the burgomaster went to his wife's room without delay, but did not find her there. she had gone out of the gate with his sister. the maid-servant carried a light into his chamber; he followed her, examined the huge locks of his pistols, buckled on his old sword, put what he needed into his saddle-bags, then, with his tall figure drawn up to its full height, paced up and down the room, entirely absorbed in his task. herr von nordwyk's chestnut horse was stamping on the pavement before the door, and hesperus was rising above the roofs. the door of the house now opened. he went into the entry and found, not his wife, but adrian, who had just returned home, told the boy to give his most loving remembrances to his mother, and say that he was obliged to seek the prince on important business. old trautchen had already washed and undressed little elizabeth, and now brought him the child wrapped in a coverlet. he kissed the dear little face, which smiled at him out of its queer disguise, pressed his lips to adrian's forehead, again told him to give his love to his mother, and then rode down marendorpstrasse. two women, coming from the rheinsburger gate, met him just as he reached st. stephen's cloister. he did not notice them, but the younger one pushed the kerchief back from her head, hastily grasped her companion's wrist, and exclaimed in a low tone: "that was peter!" barbara raised her head higher. "it's lucky i'm not timid. let go of my arm. do you mean the horseman trotting past st. ursula alley?" "yes, it is peter." "nonsense, child! the bay has shorter legs than that tall camel; and peter never rides out at this hour." "but it was he." "god forbid! at night a linden looks like a beechtree. it would be a pretty piece of business, if he didn't come home to-day." the last words had escaped barbara's lips against her will; for until then she had prudently feigned not to suspect that everything between maria and her husband was not exactly as it ought to be, though she plainly perceived what was passing in the mind of her young sister-inlaw. she was a shrewd woman, with much experience of the world, who certainly did not undervalue her brother and his importance to the cause of their native land; nay, she went so far as to believe that, with the exception of the prince of orange, no man on earth would be more skilful than peter in guiding the cause of freedom to a successful end; but she felt that her brother was not treating maria justly, and being a fair-minded woman, silently took sides against the husband who neglected his wife. both walked side by side for a time in silence. at last the widow paused, saying: "perhaps the prince has sent a messenger for peter. in such times, after such blows, everything is possible. you might have seen correctly." "it was surely he," replied maria positively. "poor fellow!" said the other. "it must be a sad ride for him! much honor, much hardship! you've no reason to despond, for your husband will return tomorrow or the day after; while i--look at me, maria! i go through life stiff and straight, do my duty cheerfully; my cheeks are rosy, my food has a relish, yet i've been obliged to resign what was dearest to me. i have endured my widowhood ten years; my daughter gretchen has married, and i sent cornelius myself to the beggars of the sea. any hour may rob me of him, for his life is one of constant peril. what has a widow except her only son? and i gave him up for our country's cause! that is harder than to see a husband ride away for a few hours on the anniversary of his wedding-day. he certainly doesn't do it for his own pleasure!" "here we are at home," said maria, raising the knocker. trautchen opened the door and, even before crossing the threshold, barbara exclaimed: "is your master at home?" the reply was in the negative, as she too now expected. adrian gave his message; trautchen brought up the supper, but the conversation would not extend beyond "yes" and "no." after maria had hastily asked the blessing, she rose, and turning to barbara, said: "my head aches, i should like to go to bed." "then go to rest," replied the widow. "i'll sleep in the next room and leave the door open. in darkness and silence--whims come." maria kissed her sister-in-law with sincere affection, and lay down in bed; but she found no sleep, and tossed restlessly to and fro until near midnight. hearing barbara cough in the next room, she sat up and asked: "sister-in-law, are you asleep?" "no, child. do you feel ill?" "not exactly; but i'm so anxious--horrible thoughts torment me." barbara instantly lighted a candle at the night-lamp, entered the chamber with it, and sat down on the edge of the bed. her heart ached as she gazed at the pretty young creature lying alone, full of sorrow, in the wide bed, unable to sleep from bitter grief. maria had never seemed to her so beautiful; resting in her white nightrobes on the snowy pillow, she looked like a sorrowing angel. barbara could not refrain from smoothing the hair back from the narrow forehead and kissing the flushed cheeks. maria gazed gratefully into her small, light-blue eyes and said beseechingly: "i should like to ask you something." "well?" "but you must honestly tell me the truth." "that is asking a great deal!" "i know you are sincere, but it is--" "speak freely." "was peter happy with his first wife?" "yes, child, yes." "and do you know this not only from him, but also from his dead wife, eva?" "yes, sister-in-law, yes." "and you can't be mistaken?" "not in this case certainly! but what puts such thoughts into your head? the bible says: 'let the dead bury their dead.' now turn over and try to sleep." barbara went back to her room, but hours elapsed ere maria found the slumber she sought. chapter v. the next morning two horsemen, dressed in neat livery, were waiting before the door of a handsome house in nobelstrasse, near the marketplace. a third was leading two sturdy roan steeds up and down, and a stable-boy held by the bridle a gaily-bedizened, long maned pony. this was intended for the young negro lad, who stood in the door-way of the house and kept off the street-boys, who ventured to approach, by rolling his eyes and gnashing his white teeth at them. "where can they be?" said one of the mounted men: "the rain won't keep off long to-day." "certainly not," replied the other. "the sky is as grey as my old felthat, and, by the time we reach the forest, it will be pouring." it's misting already." "such cold, damp weather is particularly disagreeable to me." "it was pleasant yesterday." "button the flaps tighter over the pistol-holsters! the portmanteau behind the young master's saddle isn't exactly even. there! did the cook fill the flask for you?" "with brown spanish wine. there it is." "then let it pour. when a fellow is wet inside, he can bear a great deal of moisture without." "lead the horses up to the door; i hear the gentlemen." the man was not mistaken; for before his companion had succeeded in stopping the larger roan, the voices of his master, herr matanesse van wibisma, and his son, nicolas, were heard in the wide entry. both were exchanging affectionate farewells with a young girl, whose voice sounded deeper than the halfgrown boy's. as the older gentleman thrust his hand through the roan's mane and was already lifting his foot to put it in the stirrup, the young girl, who had remained in the entry, came out into the street, laid her hand on wibisma's arm, and said: "one word more, uncle, but to you alone." the baron still held his horse's mane in his hand, exclaiming with a cordial smile: "if only it isn't too heavy for the roan. a secret from beautiful lips has its weight." while speaking, he bent his ear towards his niece, but she did not seem to have intended to whisper, for she approached no nearer and merely lowered her tone, saying in the italian language: "please tell my father, that i won't stay here." "why, henrica!" "tell him i won't do so under any circumstances." "your aunt won't let you go." "in short, i won't stay." "i'll deliver the message, but in somewhat milder terms, if agreeable to you." "as you choose. tell him, too, that i beg him to send for me. if he doesn't wish to enter this heretic's nest himself, for which i don't blame him in the least, he need only send horses or the carriage for me." "and your reasons?" "i won't weight your baggage still more heavily. go, or the saddle will be wet before you ride off" "then i'm to tell hoogstraten to expect a letter." "no. such things can't be written. besides, it won't be necessary. tell my father i won't stay with aunt, and want to go home. good-bye, nico. your riding-boots and green cloth doublet are much more becoming than those silk fal-lals." the young lady kissed her hand to the youth, who had already swung himself into the saddle, and hurried back to the house. her uncle shrugged his shoulders, mounted the roan, wrapped the dark cloak closer around him, beckoned nicolas to his side, and rode on with him in advance of the servants. no word was exchanged between them, so long as their way led through the city, but outside the gate, wibisma said: "henrica finds the time long in leyden; she would like to go back to her father." "it can't be very pleasant to stay with aunt," replied the youth. "she is old and sick, and her life has been a joyless one." "yet she was beautiful. few traces of it are visible, but her eyes are still like those in the portrait, and besides she is so rich." "that doesn't give happiness." "but why has she remained unmarried?" the baron shrugged his shoulders, and replied: "it certainly didn't suit the men." "then why didn't she go into a convent?" "who knows? women's hearts are harder to understand than your greek books. you'll learn that later. what were you saying to your aunt as i came up?" "why, just see," replied the boy, putting the bridle in his mouth, and drawing the glove from his left hand, "she slipped this ring on my finger." "a splendid emerald! she doesn't usually like to part with such things." "she first offered me another, saying she would give it to me to make amends for the thumps i received yesterday as a faithful follower of the king. isn't it comical?" "more than that, i should think." "it was contrary to my nature to accept gifts for my bruises, and i hastily drew my hand back, saying the burgher lads had taken some home from me, and i wouldn't have the ring as a reward for that." "right, nico, right." "so she said too, put the little ring back in the box, found this one, and here it is." "a valuable gem!" murmured the baron, thinking: "this gift is a good omen. the hoogstratens and he are her nearest heirs, and if the silly girl doesn't stay with her, it might happen--" but he found no time to finish these reflections, nicolas interrupted them by saying: "it's beginning to rain already. don't the fogs on the meadows look like clouds fallen from the skies? i am cold." "draw your cloak closer." "how it rains and hails! one would think it was winter. the water in the canals looks black, and yonder--see--what is that?" a tavern stood beside the road, and just in front of it a single lofty elm towered towards the sky. its trunk, bare as a mast, had grown straight up without separating into branches until it attained the height of a house. spring had as yet lured no leaves from the boughs, but there were many objects to be seen in the bare top of the tree. a small flag, bearing the colors of the house of orange, was fastened to one branch, from another hung a large doll, which at a distance strongly resembled a man dressed in black, an old hat dangled from a third, and a fourth supported a piece of white pasteboard, on which might be read in large black letters, which the rain was already beginning to efface: "good luck to orange, to the spaniard death. so peter quatgelat welcomes his guests." this tree, with its motley adornments, offered a by no means pleasant spectacle, seen in the grey, cold, misty atmosphere of the rainy april morning. ravens had alighted beside the doll swaying to and fro in the wind, probably mistaking it for a man. they must have been by no means teachable birds, for during the years the spaniards had ruled in holland, the places of execution were never empty. they were screeching as if in anger, but still remained perched on the tree, which they probably mistook for a gibbet. the rest of the comical ornaments and the thought of the nimble adventurer, who must have climbed up to fasten them, formed a glaring and offensive contrast to the caricature of the gallows. yet nicolas laughed loudly, as he perceived the queer objects in the top of the elm, and pointing upward, said: "what kind of fruits are hanging there?" but the next instant a chill ran down his back, for a raven perched on the black doll and pecked so fiercely at it with its hard beak, that bird and image swayed to and fro like a pendulum. "what does this nonsense mean?" asked the baron, turning to the servant, a bold-looking fellow, who rode behind him. "it's something like a tavern-sign," replied the latter. "yesterday, when the sun was shining, it looked funny enough--but to-day--b-r-r-rit's horrible." the nobleman's eyes were not keen enough to read the inscription on the placard. when nicolas read it aloud to him, he muttered an oath, then turned again to the servant, saying: "and does this nonsense bring guests to the rascally host's tavern?" "yes, my lord, and 'pon my soul, it looked very comical yesterday, when the ravens were not to be seen; a fellow couldn't look at it without laughing. half leyden was there, and we went with the crowd. there was such an uproar on the grass-plot yonder. dudeldum--hubutt, hubutt-dudeldum--fiddles squeaking and bag-pipes droning as if they never would stop. the crazy throng shouted amidst the din; the noise still rings in my ears. there was no end to the games and dancing. the lads tossed their brown, blue and red-stockinged legs in the air, just as the fiddle played--the coat-tails flew and, holding a girl clasped in the right arm and a mug of beer high over their heads till the foam spattered, the throng of men whirled round and round. there was as much screaming and rejoicing as if every butter-cup in the grass had been changed into a gold florin. but to-day--holy florian--this is a rain!" "it will do the things up there good," exclaimed the baron. "the tinder grows damp in such a torrent, or i'd take out my pistols and shoot the shabby liberty hat and motley tatters off the tree." "that was the dancing ground," said the man, pointing to a patch of trampled grass. "the people are possessed, perfectly possessed," cried the baron, "dancing and rejoicing to-day, and tomorrow the wind will blow the felthat and flag from the tree, and instead of the black puppet they themselves will come to the gallows. steady roan, steady! the hail frightens the beasts. unbuckle the portmanteau, gerrit, and give your young master a blanket." "yes, my lord. but wouldn't it be better for you to go in here until the shower is over? holy florian! "just see that piece of ice in your horse's mane! it's as large as a pigeon's egg. two horses are already standing under the shed, and quatgelat's beer isn't bad." the baron glanced inquiringly at his son. "let us go in," replied nicolas; "we shall get to the hague early enough. see how poor balthasar is shivering! henrica says he's a white boy painted; but if she could see how well he keeps his color in this weather, she would take it back." herr van wibisma turned his dripping, smoking steed, frightened by the hail-stones, towards the house, and in a few minutes crossed the threshold of the inn with his son. chapter vi. a current of warm air, redolent of beer and food, met the travellers as they entered the large, low room, dimly lighted by the tiny windows, scarcely more than loop-holes, pierced in two sides. the tap-room itself looked like the cabin of a ship. ceiling and floor, chairs and tables, were made of the same dark-brown wood that covered the walls, along which beds were ranged like berths. the host, with many bows, came forward to receive the aristocratic guests, and led them to the fire-place, where huge pieces of peat were glimmering. the heat they sent forth answered several purposes at the same time. it warmed the air, lighted a portion of the room, which was very dark in rainy weather, and served to cook three fowl that, suspended from a thin iron bar over the fire, were already beginning to brown. as the new guests approached the hearth, an old woman, who had been turning the spit, pushed a white cat from her lap and rose. the landlord tossed on a bench several garments spread over the backs of two chairs to dry, and hung in their place the dripping cloaks of the baron and his son. while the elder wibisma was ordering something hot to drink for himself and servants, nicolas led the black page to the fire. the shivering boy crouched on the floor beside the ashes, and stretched now his soaked feet, shod in red morocco, and now his stiffened fingers to the blaze. the father and son took their seats at a table, over which the maidservant had spread a cloth. the baron was inclined to enter into conversation about the decorated tree with the landlord, an over-civil, pock-marked dwarf, whose clothes were precisely the same shade of brown as the wood in his tap-room; but refrained from doing so because two citizens of leyden, one of whom was well known to him, sat at a short distance from his table, and he did not wish to be drawn into a quarrel in a place like this. after nicolas had also glanced around the tap-room, he touched his father, saying in a low tone: "did you notice the men yonder? the younger one--he's lifting the cover of the tankard now--is the organist who released me from the boys and gave me his cloak yesterday." "the one yonder?" asked the nobleman. "a handsome young fellow. he might be taken for an artist or something of that kind. here, landlord, who is the gentleman with brown hair and large eyes, talking to allertssohn, the fencing-master?" "it's herr wilhelm, younger son of old herr cornelius, receiver general, a player or musician, as they call them." "eh, eh," cried the baron. "his father is one of my old leyden acquaintances. he was a worthy, excellent man before the craze for liberty turned people's heads. the youth, too, has a face pleasant to look at. "there is something pure about it--something-it's hard to say, something --what do you think, nico? doesn't he look like our saint sebastian? shall i speak to him and thank him for his kindness?" the baron, without waiting for his son, whom he treated as an equal, to reply, rose to give expression to his friendly feelings towards the musician, but this laudable intention met with an unexpected obstacle. the man, whom the baron had called the fencing-master allertssohn, had just perceived that the "glippers" cloaks were hanging by the fire, while his friend's and his own were flung on a bench. this fact seemed to greatly irritate the leyden burgher; for as the baron rose, he pushed his own chair violently back, bent his muscular body forward, rested both arms on the edge of the table opposite to him and, with a jerking motion, turned his soldierly face sometimes towards the baron, and sometimes towards the landlord. at last he shouted loudly: "peter quatgelat--you villain, you! what ails you, you, miserable hunchback!--who gives you a right to toss our cloaks into a corner?" "yours, captain," stammered the host, "were already--" "hold your tongue, you fawning knave!" thundered the other in so loud a tone and such excitement, that the long grey moustache on his upper lip shook, and the thick beard on his chin trembled. "hold your tongue! we know better. jove's thunder! nobleman's cloaks are favored here. they're of spanish cut. that exactly suits the glippers' faces. good dutch cloth is thrown into the corner. ho, ho, brother crooklegs, we'll put you on parade." "pray, most noble captain--" "i'll blow away your most noble, you worthless scamp, you arrant rascal! first come, first served, is the rule in holland, and has been ever since the days of adam and eve. prick up your ears, crooklegs! if my 'most noble' cloak, and herr wilhelm's too, are not hanging in their old places before i count twenty, something will happen here that won't suit you. one-two-three--" the landlord cast a timid, questioning glance at the nobleman, and as the latter shrugged his shoulders and said audibly: "there is probably room for more than two cloaks at the fire," quatgelat took the leyden guests' wraps from the bench and hung them on two chairs, which he pushed up to the mantel-piece. while this was being done, the fencing-master slowly continued to count. by the time he reached twenty the landlord had finished his task, yet the irate captain still gave him no peace, but said: "now our reckoning, man. wind and storm are far from pleasant, but i know even worse company. there's room enough at the fire for four cloaks, and in holland for all the animals in noah's ark, except spaniards and the allies of spain. deuce take it, all the bile in my liver is stirred. come to the horses with me, herr wilhelm, or there'll be mischief." the fencing-master, while uttering the last words, stared angrily at the nobleman with his prominent eyes, which even under ordinary circumstances, always looked as keen as if they had something marvellous to examine. wibisma pretended not to hear the provoking words, and, as the fencingmaster left the room, walked calmly, with head erect, towards the musician, bowed courteously, and thanked him for the kindness he had shown his son the day before. "you are not in the least indebted to me," replied wilhelm corneliussohn. "i helped the young nobleman, because it always has an ill look when numbers attack one." "then allow me to praise this opinion," replied the baron. "opinion," repeated the musician with a subtle smile, drawing a few notes on the table. the baron watched his fingers silently a short time, then advanced nearer the young man, asking: "must everything now relate to political dissensions?" "yes," replied wilhelm firmly, turning his face with a rapid movement towards the older man. "in these times 'yes,' twenty times 'yes.' you wouldn't do well to discuss opinions with me, herr matanesse." "every man," replied the nobleman, shrugging his shoulders, "every man of course believes his own opinion the right one, yet he ought to respect the views of those who think differently." "no, my lord," cried the musician. "in these times there is but one opinion for us. i wish to share nothing, not even a drink at the table, with any man who has holland blood, and feels differently. excuse me, my lord; my travelling companion, as you have unfortunately learned, has an impatient temper and doesn't like to wait." wilhelm bowed distantly, waved his hand to nicolas, approached the chimney-piece, took the half-dried cloaks on his arm, tossed a coin on the table and, holding in his hands a covered cage in which several birds were fluttering, left the room. the baron gazed after him in silence. the simple words and the young man's departure aroused painful emotions. he believed he desired what was right, yet at this moment a feeling stole over him that a stain rested on the cause he supported. it is more endurable to be courted than avoided, and thus an expression of deep annoyance rested on the nobleman's pleasant features as he returned to his son. nicolas had not lost a single word uttered by the organist, and the blood left his ruddy cheeks as he was forced to see this man, whose appearance had especially won his young heart, turn his back upon his father as if he were a dishonorable man to be avoided. the words, with which janus dousa had left him the day before, returned to his mind with great force, and when the baron again seated himself opposite him, the boy raised his eyes and said hesitatingly, but with touching earnestness and sincere anxiety: "father, what does that mean? father--are they so wholly wrong, if they would rather be hollanders than spaniards?" wibisma looked at his son with surprise and displeasure, and because he felt his own firmness wavering, and a blustering word often does good service where there is lack of possibility or inclination to contend against reasons, he exclaimed more angrily than he had spoken to his son for years: "are you, too, beginning to relish the bait with which orange lures simpletons? another word of that kind, and i'll show you how malapert lads are treated. here, landlord, what's the meaning of that nonsense on yonder tree?" "the people, my lord, the leyden fools are to blame for the mischief, not i. they decked the tree out in that ridiculous way, when the troops stationed in the city during the siege retired. i keep this house as a tenant of old herr van der does, and dare not have any opinions of my own, for people must live, but, as truly as i hope for salvation, i'm loyal to king philip." "until the leyden burghers come out here again," replied wibisma bitterly. "did you keep this inn during the siege?" "yes, my lord, the spaniards had no cause to complain of me, and if a poor man's services are not too insignificant for you, they are at your disposal." "ah! ha!" muttered the baron, gazing attentively at the landlord's disagreeable face, whose little eyes glittered very craftily, then turning to nicolas, said: "go and watch the blackbirds in the window yonder a little while, my son, i have something to say to the host." the youth instantly obeyed and as, instead of looking at the birds, he gazed after the two enthusiastic supporters of holland's liberty, who were riding along the road leading to delft, remembered the simile of fetters that drag men down, and saw rising before his mental vision the glitter of the gold chain king philip had sent his father, nicolas involuntarily glanced towards him as he stood whispering eagerly with the landlord. now he even laid his hand on his shoulder. was it right for him to hold intercourse with a man whom he must despise at heart? or was he--he shuddered, for the word "traitor," which one of the school-boys had shouted in his ears during the quarrel before the church, returned to his memory. when the rain grew less violent, the travellers left the inn. the baron allowed the hideous landlord to kiss his hand at parting, but nicolas would not suffer him to touch his. few words were exchanged between father and son during the remainder of their ride to the hague, but the musician and the fencing-master were less silent on the way to delft. wilhelm had modestly, as beseemed the younger man, suggested that his companion had expressed his hostile feelings towards the nobleman too openly. "true, perfectly true," replied allertssohn, whom his friends called "allerts." "very true! temper oh! temper! you don't suspect, herr wilhelm--but we'll let it pass." "no, speak, meister." "you'll think no better of me, if i do." "then let us talk of something else." "no, wilhelm. i needn't be ashamed, no one will take me for a coward." the musician laughed, exclaiming: "you a coward! how many spaniards has your brescian sword killed?" "wounded, wounded, sir, far oftener than killed," replied the other. "if the devil challenges me i shall ask: foils, sir, or spanish swords? but there's one person i do fear, and that's my best and at the same time my worst friend, a netherlander, like yourself, the man who rides here beside you. yes, when rage seizes upon me, when my beard begins to tremble, my small share of sense flies away as fast as your doves when you let them go. you don't know me, wilhelm." "don't i? how often must one see you in command and visit you in the fencing-room?" "pooh, pooh--there i'm as quiet as the water in yonder ditch--but when anything goes against the grain, when--how shall i explain it to you, without similes?" "go on." "for instance, when i am obliged to see a sycophant treated as if he were sir upright--" "so that vexes you greatly?" "vexes? no! then i grow as savage as a tiger, and i ought not to be so, i ought not. roland, my foreman, probably likes--" "meister, meister, your beard is beginning to tremble already!" "what did the glippers think, when their aristocratic cloaks--" the landlord took yours and mine from the fire entirely on his own responsibility." "i don't care! the crook-legged ape did it to honor the spanish sycophant. it enraged me, it was intolerable." "you didn't keep your wrath to yourself, and i was surprised to see how patiently the baron bore your insults." "that's just it, that's it!" cried the fencing-master, while his beard began to twitch violently. "that's what drove me out of the tavern, that's why i took to my heels. that--that--roland, my fore man." "i don't understand you." "don't you, don't you? how should you; but i'll explain. when you're as old as i am, young man, you'll experience it too. there are few perfectly sound trees in the forest, few horses without a blemish, few swords without a stain, and scarcely a man who has passed his fortieth year that has not a worm in his breast. some gnaw slightly, others torture with sharp fangs, and mine--mine.--do you want to cast a glance in here?" the fencing-master struck his broad chest as he uttered these words and, without waiting for his companion's reply, continued: "you know me and my life, herr wilhelm. what do i do, what do i practise? only chivalrous work. "my life is based upon the sword. do you know a better blade or surer hand than mine? do my soldiers obey me? have i spared my blood in fighting before the red walls and towers yonder? no, by my fore man roland, no, no, a thousand times no." "who denies it, meister allerts? but tell me, what do you mean by your cry: roland, my fore man?" "another time, wilhelm; you mustn't interrupt me now. hear my story about where the worm hides in me. so once more: what i do, the calling i follow, is knightly work, yet when a wibisma, who learned how to use his sword from my father, treats me ill and stirs up my bile, if i should presume to challenge him, as would be my just right, what would he do? laugh and ask: 'what will the passado cost, fencing-master allerts? have you polished rapiers?' perhaps he wouldn't even answer at all, and we saw just now how he acts. his glance slipped past me like an eel, and he had wax in his ears. whether i reproach, or a cur yelps at him, is all the same to his lordship. if only a renneberg or brederode had been in my place just now, how quickly wibisma's sword would have flown from its sheath, for he understands how to fight and is no coward. but i--i? nobody would willingly allow himself to be struck in the face, yet so surely as my father was a brave man, even the worst insult could be more easily borne, than the feeling of being held in too slight esteem to be able to offer an affront. you see, wilhelm, when the glipper looked past me--" "your beard lost its calmness." "it's all very well for you to jest, you don't know--" "yes, yes, herr allerts; i understand you perfectly." "and do you also understand, why i took myself and my sword out of doors so quickly?" "perfectly; but please stop a moment with me now. the doves are fluttering so violently; they want air." the fencing-master stopped his steed, and while wilhelm was removing the dripping cloth from the little cage that rested between him and his horse's neck, said: "how can a man trouble himself about such gentle little creatures? if you want to diminish, in behalf of feathered folk, the time given to music, tame falcons, that's a knightly craft, and i can teach you." "let my doves alone," replied wilhelm. "they are not so harmless as people suppose, and have done good service in many a war, which is certainly chivalrous pastime. remember haarlem. there, it's beginning to pour again. if my cloak were only not so short; i would like to cover the doves with it." "you certainly look like goliath in david's garments." "it's my scholar's cloak; i put my other on young wibisma's shoulders yesterday." "the spanish green-finch?" "i told you about the boys' brawl." "yes, yes. and the monkey kept your cloak?" "you came for me and wouldn't wait. they probably sent it back soon after our departure." "and their lordships expect thanks because the young nobleman accepted it!" "no, no; the baron expressed his gratitude." "but that doesn't make your cape any longer. take my cloak, wilhelm. i've no doves to shelter, and my skin is thicker than yours." etext editor's bookmarks: a blustering word often does good service held in too slight esteem to be able to offer an affront the shirt is closer than the coat those two little words 'wish' and 'ought' wet inside, he can bear a great deal of moisture without this ebook was produced by david widger <widger@cecomet.net> [note: there is a short list of bookmarks, or pointers, at the end of the file for those who may wish to sample the author's ideas before making an entire meal of them. d.w.] homo sum by georg ebers volume 5. chapter xviii. common natures can only be lightly touched by the immeasurable depth of anguish that is experienced by a soul that despairs of itself; but the more heavily the blow of such suffering falls, the more surely does it work with purifying power on him who has to taste of that cup. paulus thought no more of the fair, sleeping woman; tortured by acute remorse he lay on the hard stones, feeling that he had striven in vain. when he had taken hermas' sin and punishment and disgrace upon himself, it had seemed to him that he was treading in the very footsteps of the saviour. and now?--he felt like one who, while running for a prize, stumbles over a stone and grovels in the sand when he is already close to the goal. "god sees the will and not the deed," he muttered to himself. "what i did wrong with regard to sirona--or what i did not do--that matters not. when i leaned over her, i had fallen utterly and entirely into the power of the evil one, and was an ally of the deadliest enemy of him to whom i had dedicated my life and soul. of what avail was my flight from the world, and my useless sojourn in the desert? he who always keeps out of the way of the battle can easily boast of being unconquered to the endbut is he therefore a hero? the palm belongs to him who in the midst of the struggles and affairs of the world clings to the heavenward road, and never lets himself be diverted from it; but as for me who walk here alone, a woman and a boy cross my path, and one threatens and the other beckons to me, and i forget my aim and stumble into the bog of iniquity. and so i cannot find--no, here i cannot find what i strive after. but how then--how? enlighten me, o lord, and reveal to me what i must do." thus thinking he rose, knelt down, and prayed fervently; when at last he came to the 'amen,' his head was burning, and his tongue parched. the clouds had parted, though they still hung in black masses in the west; from time to time gleams of lightning shone luridly on the horizon and lighted up the jagged peak of mountain with a flare; the moon had risen, but its waning disk was frequently obscured by dark driving masses of cloud; blinding flashes, tender light, and utter darkness were alternating with bewildering rapidity, when paulus at last collected himself, and went down to the spring to drink, and to cool his brow in the fresh water. striding from stone to stone he told himself, that ere he could begin a new life, he must do penance--some heavy penance; but what was it to be? he was standing at the very margin of the brook, hemmed in by cliffs, and was bending down to it, but before he had moistened his lips he drew back: just because he was so thirsty he resolved to deny himself drink. hastily, almost vehemently, he turned his back on the spring, and after this little victory over himself, his storm-tossed heart seemed a little calmer. far, far from hence and from the wilderness and from the sacred mountain he felt impelled to fly, and he would gladly have fled then and there to a distance. whither should he flee? it was all the same, for he was in search of suffering, and suffering, like weeds, grows on every road. and from whom? this question repeated itself again and again as if he had shouted it in the very home of echo, and the answer was not hard to find: "it is from yourself that you would flee. it is your own inmost self that is your enemy; bury yourself in what desert you will, it will pursue you, and it would be easier for you to cut off your shadow than to leave that behind?" his whole consciousness was absorbed by this sense of impotency, and now, after the stormy excitement of the last few hours, the deepest depression took possession of his mind. exhausted, unstrung, full of loathing of himself and life, he sank down on a stone, and thought over the occurrences of the last few days with perfect impartiality. "of all the fools that ever i met," thought he, "i have gone farthest in folly, and have thereby led things into a state of confusion which i myself could not make straight again, even if i were a sage--which i certainly never shall be any more than a tortoise or a phoenix. i once heard tell of a hermit who, because it is written that we ought to bury the dead, and because he had no corpse, slew a traveller that he might fulfil the commandment: i have acted in exactly the same way, for, in order to spare another man suffering and to bear the sins of another, i have plunged an innocent woman into misery, and made myself indeed a sinner. as soon as it is light i will go down to the oasis and confess to petrus and dorothea what i have done. they will punish me, and i will honestly help them, so that nothing of the penance that they may lay upon me may be remitted. the less mercy i show to myself, the more will the eternal judge show to me." he rose, considered the position of the stars, and when he perceived that morning was not far off, he prepared to return to sirona, who was no longer any more to him than an unhappy woman to whom he owed reparation for much evil, when a loud cry of distress in the immediate vicinity fell on his ear. he mechanically stooped to pick up a stone for a weapon, and listened. he knew every rock in the neighborhood of the spring, and when the strange groan again made itself heard, he knew that it came from a spot which he knew well and where he had often rested, because a large flat stone supported by a stout pillar of granite, stood up far above the surrounding rocks, and afforded protection from the sun, even at noonday, when not a hand's breath of shade was to be found elsewhere. perhaps some wounded beast had crept under the rock for shelter from the rain. paulus went cautiously forward. the groaning sounded louder and more distinct than before, and beyond a doubt it was the voice of a human being. the anchorite hastily threw away the stone, fell upon his knees, and soon found on the dry spot of ground under the stone, and in the farthermost nook of the retreat, a motionless human form. "it is most likely a herdsman that has been struck by lightning," thought he, as he felt with his hands the curly head of the sufferer, and the strong arms that now bung down powerless. as he raised the injured man, who still uttered low moans, and supported his head on his broad breast, the sweet perfume of fine ointment was wafted to him from his hair, and a fearful suspicion dawned upon his mind. "polykarp!" he cried, while he clasped his hands more tightly round the body of the sufferer who, thus called upon, moved and muttered a few unintelligible words; in a low tone, but still much too clearly for paulus, for he now knew for certain that be had guessed rightly. with a loud cry of horror he grasped the youth's powerless form, raised him in his arms, and carried him like a child to the margin of the spring where he laid his noble burden down in the moist grass; polykarp started and opened his eyes. morning was already dawning, the light clouds on the eastern horizon were already edged with rosy fringes, and the coming day began to lift the dark veil from the forms and hues of creation. the young man recognized the anchorite, who with trembling hands was washing the wound at the back of his head, and his eye assumed an angry glare as he called up all his remaining strength and pushed his attendant from him. paulus did not withdraw, he accepted the blow from his victim as a gift or a greeting, thinking, "aye, and i only wish you had a dagger in your hand; i would not resist you." the artist's wound was frightfully wide and deep, but the blood had flowed among his thick curls, and had clotted over the lacerated veins like a thick dressing. the water with which paulus now washed his head reopened them, and renewed the bleeding, and after the one powerful effort with which polykarp pushed away his enemy, he fell back senseless in his arms the wan morning-light added to the pallor of the bloodless countenance that lay with glazed eyes in the anchorite's lap. "he is dying!" murmured paulus in deadly anguish and with choking breath, while he looked across the valley and up to the heights, seeking help. the mountain rose in front of him, its majestic mass glowing in the rosy dawn, while light translucent vapor floated round the peak where the lord had written his laws for his chosen people, and for all peoples, on tables of stone; it seemed to paulus that he saw the giant form of moses far, far up on its sublimest height and that from his lips in brazen tones the strictest of all the commandments was thundered down upon him with awful wrath, "thou shalt not kill!" paulus clasped his hands before his face in silent despair, while his victim still lay in his lap. he had closed his eyes, for he dared not look on the youth's pale countenance, and still less dared he look up at the mountain; but the brazen voice from the height did not cease, and sounded louder and louder; half beside himself with excitement, in his inward ear he heard it still, "thou shalt not kill!" and then again, "thou shalt not covet thy neighbor's wife!" a third time, "thou shalt not commit adultery!" and at last a fourth, "thou shalt have none other gods but me!" he that sins against one of those laws is damned; and he--he had broken them all, broken them while striving to tread the thorny path to a life of blessedness. suddenly and wildly he threw his arms up to heaven, and sighing deeply, gazed up at the sacred hill. what was that? on the topmost peak of sinai whence the pharanite sentinels were accustomed to watch the distance, a handkerchief was waving as a signal that the enemy were approaching. he could not be mistaken, and as in the face of approaching danger he collected himself and recovered his powers of thought and deliberation, his ear distinctly caught the mighty floods of stirring sound that came over the mountain, from the brazen cymbals struck by the watchmen to warn the inhabitants of the oasis, and the anchorites. was hermas returned? had the blemmyes outstripped him? from what quarter were the marauding hosts coming on? could he venture to remain here near his victim, or was it his duty to use his powerful arms in defence of his helpless companions? in agonized doubt he looked down at the youth's pallid features, and deep, sorrowful compassion filled his mind. how promising was this young tree of humanity that his rough fist had broken off! and these brown curls had only yesterday been stroked by a mother's hand. his eyes filled with tears, and he bent as tenderly as a father might over the pale face, and pressed a gentle kiss on the bloodless lips of the senseless youth. a thrill of joy shot through him, for polykarp's lips were indeed not cold, he moved his hand, and now--the lord be praised! he actually opened his eyes. "and i am not a murderer!" a thousand voices seem to sing with joy in his heart, and then he thought to himself, "first i will carry him down to his parents in the oasis, and then go up to the brethren." but the brazen signals rang out with renewed power, and the stillness of the holy wilderness was broken here by the clatter of men's voices, there by a blast of trumpets, and there again by stifled cries. it was as if a charm had given life to the rocks and lent their voices; as if noise and clamor were rushing like wild torrents down every gorge and cleft of the mountainside. "it is too late," sighed the anchorite. "if i only could--if i only knew--" "hallo! hallo! holy paulus!" a shrill woman's voice which seemed to come from high up in the air rang out joyful and triumphant, interrupting the irresolute man's meditations, "hermas is alive! hermas is here again! only look up at the heights. there flies the standard, for he has warned the sentinels. the blemmyes are coming on, and he sent me to seek you. you must come to the strong tower on the western side of the ravine. make haste! come at once! do you hear? he told me to tell you. but the man in your lap--it is--yes, it is--" "it is your master's son polykarp," paulus called back to her. "he is hurt unto death; hurry down to the oasis, and tell the senator, tell dame dorothea--" "i have something else to do now," interrupted the shepherdess. "hermas has sent me to warn gelasius, psoes, and dulas, and if i went down into the oasis they would lock me up, and not let me come up the mountain again. what has happened to the poor fellow? but it is all the same: there is something else for you to do besides grieving over a hole in polykarp's head. go up to the tower, i tell you, and let him lie--or carry him up with you into your new den, and hand him over to your sweetheart to nurse." "demon!" exclaimed paulus, taking up a stone. "let him he!" repeated miriam. "i will betray her hiding-place to phoebicius, if you do not do as dermas orders you. now i am off to call the others, and we shall meet again at the tower. and you had better not linger too long with your fair companion--pious paulus--saintly paulus!" and laughing loudly, she sprang away from rock to rock as if borne up by the air. the alexandrian looked wrathfully after her; but her advice did not seem to be bad, he lifted the wounded man on his shoulders, and hastily carried him up towards his cave; but before he could reach it he heard steps, and a loud agonized scream, and in a few seconds sirona was by his side, crying in passionate grief, "it is he, it is he-and oh, to see him thus!--but he must live, for if he were dead your god of love would be inexorable, pitiless, hard, cruel--it would be--" she could say no more, for tears choked her voice, and paulus, without listening to her lamentation, passed quickly on in front of her, entered the cave and laid the unconscious man down on the couch, saying gravely but kindly, as sirona threw herself on her knees and pressed the young man's powerless hand to her lips, "if indeed you truly love him, cease crying and lamenting. he yesterday got a severe wound on his head; i have washed it, now do you bind it up with care, and keep it constantly cool with fresh water. you know your way to the spring; when he recovers his senses rub his feet, and give him some bread and a few drops of the wine which you will find in the little cellar hard by; there is some oil there too, which you will need for a light. "i must go up to the brethren, and if i do not return to-morrow, give the poor lad over to his mother to nurse. only tell her this, that i, paulus, gave him this wound in a moment of rage, and to forgive me if she can, she and petrus. and you too forgive me that in which i have sinned against you, and if i should fall in the battle which awaits us, pray that the lord may not be too hard upon me in the day of judgment, for my sins are great and many." at this moment the sound of the trumpets sounded even into the deepest recess of the cave. sirona started. "that is the roman tuba," she exclaimed. "i know the sound--phoebicius is coming this way." "he is doing his duty," replied paulus. "and still, one thing more. i saw last night a ring on your hand--an onyx." "there it lies," said sirona; and she pointed to the farthest corner of the cave, where it lay on the dusty soil. "let it remain there," paulus begged of her; he bent over the senseless man once more to kiss his forehead, raised his hand towards sirona in sign of blessing, and rushed out into the open air. chapter xix. two paths led over the mountain from the oasis to the sea; both followed deep and stony gorges, one of which was named the "short cut," because the traveller reached his destination more quickly by that road than by following the better road in the other ravine, which was practicable for beasts of burden. half-way up the height the "short cut" opened out on a little plateau, whose western side was shut in by a high mass of rock with steep and precipitous flanks. at the top of this rock stood a tower built of rough blocks, in which the anchorites were wont to take refuge when they were threatened with a descent of their foes. the position of this castle--as the penitents proudly styled their tower --was well-chosen, for from its summit they commanded not only the "short cut" to the oasis, but also the narrow shell-strewn strip of desert which divided the western declivity of the holy mountain from the shore, the blue-green waters of the sea, and the distant chain of hills on the african coast. whatever approached the tower, whether from afar or from the neighborhood, was at once espied by them, and the side of the rock which was turned to the roadway was so precipitous and smooth that it remained inaccessible even to the natives of the desert, who, with their naked feet and sinewy arms, could climb points which even the wild goat and the jackal made a circuit to avoid. it was more accessible from the other side, and in order to secure that, a very strong wall had been built, which enclosed the level on which the castle stood in the form of a horseshoe, of which the ends abutted on the declivity of the short road. this structure was so roughly and inartistically heaped together that it looked as if formed by nature rather than by the hand of man. the rough and unfinished appearance of this wall-like heap of stones was heightened by the quantity of large and small pieces of granite which were piled on the top of it, and which had been collected by the anchorites, in case of an incursion, to roll and hurl down on the invading robbers. a cistern had been dug out of the rocky soil of the plateau which the wall enclosed, and care was taken to keep it constantly filled with water. such precautions were absolutely necessary, for the anchorites were threatened with dangers from two sides. first from the ishmaelite hordes of saracens who fell upon them from the east, and secondly from the blemmyes, the wild inhabitants of the desert country which borders the fertile lands of egypt and nubia, and particularly of the barren highlands that part the red sea from the nile valley; they crossed the sea in light skiffs, and then poured over the mountain like a swarm of locusts. the little stores and savings which the defenceless hermits treasured in their caves had tempted the blemmyes again and again, in spite of the roman garrison in pharan, which usually made its appearance on the scene of their incursion long after they had disappeared with their scanty booty. not many months since, the raid had been effected in which old stephanus had been wounded by an arrow, and there was every reason to hope that the wild marauders would not return very soon, for phoebicius, the commander of the roman maniple in the oasis, was swift and vigorous in his office, and though he had not succeeded in protecting the anchorites from all damage, he had followed up the blemmyes, who fled at his approach, and cut them off from rejoining their boats. a battle took place between the barbarians and the romans, not far from the coast on the desert tract dividing the hills from the sea, which resulted in the total annihilation of the wild tribes and gave ground to hope that such a lesson might serve as a warning to the sons of the desert. but if hitherto the more easily quelled promptings of covetousness had led them to cross the sea, they were now animated by the most sacred of all duties, by the law which required them to avenge the blood of their fathers and brothers, and they dared to plan a fresh incursion in which they should put forth all their resources. they were at the same time obliged to exercise the greatest caution, and collected their forces of young men in the valleys that lay hidden in the long range of coasthills. the passage of the narrow arm of the sea that parted them from arabia petraea, was to be effected in the first dark night; the sun, this evening, had set behind heavy storm-clouds that had discharged themselves in violent rain and had obscured the light of the waning moon. so they drew their boats and rafts down to the sea, and, unobserved by the sentinels on the mountain who had taken shelter from the storm under their little penthouses, they would have reached the opposite shore, the mountain, and perhaps even the oasis, if some one had not warned the anchorites--and that some one was hermas. obedient to the commands of paulus, the lad had appropriated three of his friend's gold pieces, had provided himself with a bow and arrows and some bread, and then, after muttering a farewell to his father who was asleep in his cave, he set out for raithu. happy in the sense of his strength and manhood, proud of the task which had been set him and which he deemed worthy of a future soldier, and cheerfully ready to fulfil it even at the cost of his life, he hastened forward in the bright moonlight. he quitted the path at the spot where, to render the ascent possible even to the vigorous desert-travellers, it took a zigzag line, and clambered from rock to rock, up and down in a direct line; when he came to a level spot he flew on as if pursuers were at his heels. after sunrise he refreshed himself with a morsel of food, and then hurried on again, not heeding the heat of noon, nor that of the soft sand in which his foot sank as he followed the line of the sea-coast. thus passionately hurrying onwards he thought neither of sirona nor of his past life--only of the hills on the farther shore and of the blemmyes--how he should best surprise them, and, when he had learnt their plans, how he might recross the sea and return to his own people. at last, as he got more and more weary, as the heat of the sun grew more oppressive, and as the blood rushed more painfully to his heart and began to throb more rapidly in his temples, be lost all power of thought, and that which dwelt in his mind was no more than a dumb longing to reach his destination as soon as possible. it was the third afternoon when he saw from afar the palms of raithu, and hurried on with revived strength. before the sun had set he had informed the anchorite, to whom paulus had directed him, that the alexandrian declined their call, and was minded to remain on the holy mountain. then hermas proceeded to the little harbor, to bargain with the fishermen of the place for the boat which he needed while he was talking with an old amalekite boatman, who, with his black-eyed sons, was arranging his nets, two riders came at a quick pace towards the bay in which a large merchant-ship lay at anchor, surrounded by little barks. the fisherman pointed to it. "it is waiting for the caravan from petra," he said. "there, on the dromedary, is the emperor's great warrior who commands the romans in pharan." hermas saw phoebicius for the first time, and as he rode up towards him and the fisherman he started; if he had followed his first impulse, he would have turned and have taken to flight, but his clear eyes had met the dull and searching glance of the centurion, and, blushing at his own weakness, he stood still with his arms crossed, and proudly and defiantly awaited the gaul who with his companion came straight up to him. talib had previously seen the youth by his father's side; he recognized him and asked how long he had been there, and if he had come direct from the mountain. hermas answered him as was becoming, and understood at once that it was not he that the centurion was seeking. perfectly reassured and not without curiosity he looked at the new-comer, and a smile curled his lips as he observed that the lean old man, exhausted by his long and hurried ride, could scarcely hold himself on his beast, and at the same time it struck him that this pitiable old man was the husband of the blooming and youthful sirona. far from feeling any remorse for his intrusion into this man's house, he yielded entirely to the audacious humor with which his aspect filled him, and when phoebicius himself asked him as to whether he had not met on his way with a fair-haired woman and a limping greyhound, he replied, repressing his laughter with difficulty: "aye, indeed! i did see such a woman and her dog, but i do not think it was lame." "where did you see her?" asked phoebicius hastily. hermas colored, for he was obliged to tell an untruth, and it might be that he would do sirona an injury by giving false information. he therefore ventured to give no decided answer, but enquired, "has the woman committed some crime that you are pursuing her?" "a great one!" replied talib, "she is my lord's wife, and--" what she has done wrong concerns me alone,' said phoebicius, sharply interrupting his companion. "i hope this fellow saw better than you who took the crying woman with a child, from aila, for sirona. what is your name, boy?" "hermas," answered the lad. "and who are you, pray?" the gaul's lips were parted for an angry reply, but he suppressed it and said, "i am the emperor's centurion, and i ask you, what did the woman look like whom you saw, and where did you meet her?" the soldier's fierce looks, and his captain's words showed hermas that the fugitive woman had nothing good to expect if she were caught, and as he was not in the least inclined to assist her pursuers he hastily replied, giving the reins to his audacity, "i at any rate did not meet the person whom you seek; the woman i saw is certainly not this man's wife, for she might very well be his granddaughter. she had gold hair, and a rosy face, and the greyhound that followed her was called iambe." "where did you meet her?" shrieked the centurion. "in the fishing-village at the foot of the mountain," replied hermas. "she got into a boat, and away it went!" "towards the north?" asked the gaul. "i think so," replied hermas, "but i do not know, for i was in a hurry, and could not look after her." "then we will try to take her in klysma," cried phoebicius to the amalekite. "if only there were horses in this accursed desert!" "it is four days' journey," said talib considering. "and beyond elim there is no water before the wells of moses. certainly if we could get good dromedaries--" "and if," interrupted hermas, "it were not better that you, my lord centurion, should not go so far from the oasis. for over there they say that the blemmyes are gathering, and i myself am going across as a spy so soon as it is dark." phoebicius looked down gloomily considering the matter. the news had reached him too that the sons of the desert were preparing for a new incursion, and he cried to talib angrily but decidedly, as he turned his back upon hermas, "you must ride alone to klysma, and try to capture her. i cannot and will not neglect my duty for the sake of the wretched woman." hermas looked after him as he went away, and laughed out loud when he saw him disappear into his inn. he hired a boat from the old man for his passage across the sea for one of the gold pieces given him by paulus, and lying down on the nets he refreshed him self by a deep sleep of some hours' duration. when the moon rose he was roused in obedience to his orders, and helped the boy who accompanied him, and who understood the management of the sails and rudder, to push the boat, which was laid up on the sand, down into the sea. soon he was flying over the smooth and glistening waters before a light wind, and he felt as fresh and strong in spirit as a young eagle that has just left the nest, and spreads its mighty wings for the first time. he could have shouted in his new and delicious sense of freedom, and the boy at the stern shook his head in astonishment when he saw hermas wield the oars he had entrusted to him, unskilfully it is true, but with mighty strokes. "the wind is in our favor," he called out to the anchorite as he hauled round the sail with the rope in his hand, "we shall get on without your working so hard. you may save your strength." "there is plenty of it, and i need not be stingy of it," answered hermas, and he bent forward for another powerful stroke. about half-way he took a rest, and admired the reflection of the moon in the bright mirror of the water, and he could not but think of petrus' court-yard that had shone in the same silvery light when he had climbed up to sirona's window. the image of the fair, whitearmed woman recurred to his mind, and a melancholy longing began to creep over him. he sighed softly, again and yet again; but as his breast heaved for the third bitter sigh, he remembered the object of his journey and his broken fetters, and with eager arrogance he struck the oar flat on to the water so that it spurted high up, and sprinkled the boat and him with a shower of wet and twinkling diamond drops. he began to work the oars again, reflecting as he did so, that he had something better to do than to think of a woman. indeed, he found it easy to forget sirona completely, for in the next few days he went through every excitement of a warrior's life. scarcely two hours after his start from raithu he was standing on the soil of another continent, and, after finding a hiding-place for his boat, he slipped off among the hills to watch the movements of the blemmyes. the very first day he went up to the valley in which they were gathering; on the second, after being many times seen and pursued, he succeeded in seizing a warrior who had been sent out to reconnoitre, and in carrying him off with him; he bound him, and by heavy threats learned many things from him. the number of their collected enemies was great, but hermas had hopes of outstripping them, for his prisoner revealed to him the spot where their boats, drawn up on shore, lay hidden under sand and stones. as soon as it was dusk, the anchorite in his boat went towards the place of embarkation, and when the blemmyes, in the darkness of midnight, drew their first bark into the water, hermas sailed off ahead of the enemy, landed in much danger below the western declivity of the mountain, and hastened up towards sinai to warn the pharanite watchmen on the beacon. he gained the top of the difficult peak before sunrise, roused the lazy sentinels who had left their posts, and before they were able to mount guard, to hoist the flags or to begin to sound the brazen cymbals, he had hurried on down the valley to his father's cave. since his disappearance miriam had incessantly hovered round stephanus' dwelling, and had fetched fresh water for the old man every morning, noon and evening, even after a new nurse, who was clumsier and more peevish, had taken paulus' place. she lived on roots, and on the bread the sick man gave her, and at night she lay down to sleep in a deep dry cleft of the rock that she had long known well. she quitted her hard bed before daybreak to refill the old man's pitcher, and to chatter to him about hermas. she was a willing servant to stephanus because as often as she went to him, she could hear his son's name from his lips, and he rejoiced at her coming because she always gave him the opportunity of talking of hermas. for many weeks the sick man had been so accustomed to let himself be waited on that he accepted the shepherdess's good offices as a matter of course, and she never attempted to account to herself for her readiness to serve him. stephanus would have suffered in dispensing with her, and to her, her visits to the well and her conversations with the old man had become a need, nay a necessity, for she still was ignorant whether hermas was yet alive, or whether phoebicius had killed him in consequence of her betrayal. perhaps all that stephanus told her of his son's journey of investigation was an invention of paulus to spare the sick man, and accustom him gradually to the loss of his child; and yet she was only too willing to believe that hermas still lived, and she quitted the neighborhood of the cave as late as possible, and filled the sick man's water-jar before the sun was up, only because she said to herself that the fugitive on his return would seek no one else so soon as his father. she had not one really quiet moment, for if a falling stone, an approaching footstep, or the cry of a beast broke the stillness of the desert she at once hid herself, and listened with a beating heart; much less from fear of petrus her master, from whom she had run away, than in the expectation of hearing the step of the man whom she had betrayed into the hand of his enemy, and for whom she nevertheless painfully longed day and night. as often as she lingered by the spring she wetted her stubborn hair to smooth it, and washed her face with as much zeal as if she thought she should succeed in washing the dark hue out of her skin. and all this she did for him, that on his return she might charm him as much as the white woman in the oasis, whom she hated as fiercely as she loved him passionately. during the heavy storm of last night a torrent from the mountain-height had shed itself into her retreat and had driven her out of it. wet through, shelterless, tormented by remorse, fear and longing, she had clambered from stone to stone, and sought refuge and peace under first one rock and then another; thus she had been attracted by the glimmer of light that shone out of the new dwelling of the pious paulus; she had seen and recognized the alexandrian, but he had not observed her as he cowered on the ground near his hearth deeply sunk in thought. she knew now where the excommunicated man dwelt after whom stephanus often asked, and she had gathered from the old man's lamentations and dark hints, that paulus too had been ensnared and brought to ruin by her enemy. as the morning-star began to pale miriam went up to stephanus' cave; her heart was full of tears, and yet she was unable to pour out her need and suffering in a soothing flood of weeping; she was wholly possessed with a wild desire to sink down on the earth there and die, and to be released by death from her relentless, driving torment. but it was still too early to disturb the old man--and yet--she must hear a human voice, one word--even if it were a hard word--from the lips of a human being; for the bewildering feeling of distraction which confused her mind, and the misery of abandonment that crushed her heart, were all too cruelly painful to be borne. she was standing by the entrance to the cave when, high above her head, she heard the falling of stones and the cry of a human voice. she started and listened with out-stretched neck and strung sinews, motionless. then she broke suddenly into a loud and piercing shout of joy, and flinging up her arms she flew up the mountain towards a traveller who came swiftly down to meet her. "hermas! hermas!" she shouted, and all the sunny delight of her heart was reflected in her cry so clearly and purely that the sympathetic chords in the young man's soul echoed the sound, and he hailed her with joyful welcome. he had never before greeted her thus, and the tone of his voice revived her poor crushed heart like a restorative draught offered by a tender hand to the lips of the dying. exquisite delight, and a glow of gratitude such as she had never before felt flooded her soul, and as he was so good to her she longed to show him that she had something to offer in return for the gift of friendship which he offered her. so the first thing she said to him was, "i have staid constantly near your father, and have brought him water early and late, as much as he needed." she blushed as she thus for the first time praised herself to him, but hermas exclaimed, "that is a good girl! and i will not forget it. you are a wild, silly thing, but i believe that you are to be relied on by those to whom you feel kindly." "only try me," cried miriam holding out her hand to him. he took it, and as they went on together he said: "do you hear the brass? i have warned the watchmen up there; the blemmyes are coming. is paulus with my father?" "no, but i know where he is." "then you must call him," said the young man. "him first and then gelasius, and psoes, and dulas, and any more of the penitents that you can find. they must all go to the castle by the ravine. now i will go to my father; you hurry on and show that you are to be trusted." as he spoke he put his arm round her waist, but she slipped shyly away, and calling out, "i will take them all the message," she hurried off. in front of the cave where she had hoped to meet with paulus she found sirona; she did not stop with her, but contented herself with laughing wildly and calling out words of abuse. guided by the idea that she should find the alexandrian at the nearest well, she went on and called him, then hurrying on from cave to cave she delivered her message in hermas' name, happy to serve him. chapter xx. they were all collected behind the rough wall on the edge of the ravinethe strange men who had turned their back on life with all its joys and pails, its duties and its delights, on the community and family to which they belonged, and had fled to the desert, there to strive for a prize above and beyond this life, when they had of their own free-will renounced all other effort. in the voiceless desert, far from the enticing echoes of the world, it might be easy to kill every sensual impulse, to throw off the fetters of the world, and so bring that humanity, which was bound to the dust through sin and the flesh, nearer to the pure and incorporate being of the divinity. all these men were christians, and, like the saviour who had freely taken torments upon himself to become the redeemer, they too sought through the purifying power of suffering to free themselves from the dross of their impure human nature, and by severe penance to contribute their share of atonement for their own guilt, and for that of all their race. no fear of persecution had driven them into the desert--nothing but the hope of gaining the hardest of victories. all the anchorites who had been summoned to the tower were egyptians and syrians, and among the former particularly there were many who, being already inured to abstinence and penance in the service of the old gods in their own country, now as christians had selected as the scene of their pious exercises the very spot where the lord must have revealed himself to his elect. at a later date not merely sinai itself but the whole tract of arabia petraea--through which, as it was said, the jews at their exodus under moses had wandered--was peopled with ascetics of like mind, who gave to their settlements the names of the resting-places of the chosen people, as mentioned in the scriptures; but as yet there was no connection between the individual penitents, no order ruled their lives; they might still be counted by tens, though ere long they numbered hundreds and thousands. the threat of danger had brought all these contemners of the world and of life in stormy haste to the shelter of the tower, in spite of their readiness to die. only old kosmas, who had withdrawn to the desert with his wife--she had found a grave there--had remained in his cave, and had declared to gelasius, who shared his cave and who had urged him to flight, that he was content in whatever place or whatever hour the lord should call him, and that it was in god's hands to decide whether old age or an arrow-shot should open to him the gates of heaven. it was quite otherwise with the rest of the anchorites, who rushed through the narrow door of the watchtower and into its inner room till it was filled to overflowing, and paulus, who in the presence of danger had fully recovered his equanimity, was obliged to refuse admission to a newcomer in order to preserve the closely packed and trembling crowd from injury. no murrain passes from beast to beast, no mildew from fruit to fruit with such rapidity as fear spreads from man to man. those who had been driven by the sharpest lashings of terror had run the fastest, and reached the castle first. they had received those who followed them with lamentation and outcries, and it was a pitiable sight to see how the terrified crowd, in the midst of their loud declarations of resignation to god's guidance and their pious prayers, wrung their hands, and at the same time how painfully anxious each one was to hide the little property he had saved first from the disapproval of his companions, and then from the covetousness of the approaching enemy. with paulus came sergius and jeremias to whom, on the way, he had spoken words of encouragement. all three did their utmost to revive the confidence of the terrified men, and when the alexandrian reminded them how zealously each of them only a few weeks since had helped to roll the blocks and stones from the wall, and down the precipice, so as to crush and slay the advancing enemy the feeling was strong in many of them that, as he had already proved himself worthy in defence, it was due to him now to make him their leader. the number of the men who rushed out of the tower was increasing, and when hermas appeared with his father on his back and followed by miriam, and when paulus exhorted his companions to be edified by this pathetic picture of filial love, curiosity tempted even the last loiterers in the tower out into the open space. the alexandrian sprang over the wall, went up to stephanus, lifted him from the shoulders of the panting youth and, taking him on his own, carried him towards the tower; but the old warrior refused to enter the place of refuge, and begged his friend to lay him down by the wall. paulus obeyed his wish and then went with hermas to the top of the tower to spy the distance from thence. as soon as he had quitted him, stephanus turned to the anchorites who stood near him, saying, "these stones are loose, and though my strength is indeed small still it is great enough to send one of them over with a push. if it comes to a battle my old soldier's eyes, dim as they are now, may with the help of yours see many things that may be useful to you young ones. above all things, if the game is to be a hot one for the robbers, one must command here whom the others will obey." "it shall be you, father," interrupted salathiel the syrian. "you have served in caesar's army, and you proved your courage and knowledge of war in the last raid. you shall command us." stephanus sadly shook his head and replied, "my voice is become too weak and low since this wound in my breast and my long illness. not even those who stand nearest to me would understand me in the noise of battle. let paulus be your captain, for he is strong, cautious and brave." many of the anchorites had long looked upon the alexandrian as their best stay; for many years he had enjoyed the respect of all and on a thousand occasions had given proof of his strength and presence of mind, but at this proposal they looked at each other in surprise, doubt and disapproval. stephanus saw what was passing in their minds. "it is true he has erred gravely," he said. "and before god he is the least of the least among us; but in animal strength and indomitable courage he is superior to you all. which of you would be willing to take his place, if you reject his guidance." "orion the saite," cried one of the anchorites, "is tall and strong. if he would--" but orion eagerly excused himself from assuming the dangerous office, and when andreas and joseph also refused with no less decision the leadership that was offered them, stephanus said: "you see there is no choice left us but to be, the alexandrian to command us here so long as the robbers threaten us, and no longer. there he comes--shall i ask him?" a murmur of consent, though by no means of satisfaction, answered the old man, and paulus, quite carried away by his eagerness to stake his life and blood for the protection of the weak, and fevered with a soldier's ardor, accepted stephanus' commission as a matter of course, and set to work like a general to organize the helpless wearers of sheepskin. some he sent to the top of the tower to keep watch, others he charged with the transport of the stones; to a third party he entrusted the duty of hurling pieces of rock and blocks of stone down into the abyss in the moment of danger; he requested the weaker brethren to assemble themselves together, to pray for the others and to sing hymns of praise, and he concerted signs and passwords with all; he was now here, now there, and his energy and confidence infused themselves even into the faint-hearted. in the midst of these arrangements hermas took leave of him and of his father, for he heard the roman war-trumpets and the drums of the young manhood of pharan, as they marched through the short cut to meet the enemy. he knew where the main strength of the blemmyes lay and communicated this knowledge to the centurion phoebicius and the captain of the pharanites. the gaul put a few short questions to hermas, whom he recognized immediately, for since he had met him at the harbor of raithu he could not forget his eyes, which reminded him of those of glycera; and after receiving his hasty and decided answers he issued rapid and prudent orders. a third of the pharanites were to march forward against the enemy, drumming and trumpeting, and then retreat as far as the watch-tower as the enemy approached over the plain. if the blemmyes allowed themselves to be tempted thither, a second third of the warriors of the oasis, that could easily be in ambush in a cross-valley, were to fall on their left flank, while phoebicius and his maniple--hidden behind the rock on which the castle stood--would suddenly rush out and so decide the battle. the last third of the pharanites had orders to destroy the ships of the invaders under the command of hermas, who knew the spot where they had landed. in the worst case the centurion and his men could retreat into the castle, and there defend themselves till the warriors of the nearest seaports--whither messengers were already on their way--should come to the rescue. the gaul's orders were immediately obeyed, and hermas walked at the head of the division entrusted to him, as proud and as self-possessed as any of caesar's veterans leading his legion into the field. he carried a bow and arrows at his back, and in his hand a battleaxe that he had bought at raithu. miriam attempted to follow the troops he was leading, but he observed her, and called out, "go up to the fort, child, to my father." and the shepherdess obeyed without hesitation. the anchorites had all crowded to the edge of the precipice, they looked at the division of the forces, and signed and shouted down. they had hoped that some part of the fighting men would be joined to them for their defence, but, as they soon learned, they had hoped in vain. stephanus, whose feeble sight could not reach so far as the plain at the foot of the declivity, made paulus report to him all that was going on there, and with the keen insight of a soldier he comprehended the centurion's plan. the troop led by hermas passed by below the tower, and the youth waved and shouted a greeting up to his father. stephanus, whose hearing remained sharper than his sight, recognized his son's voice and took leave of him with tender and loving words in as loud a voice as he could command. paulus collected all the overflow of the old man's heart in one sentence, and called out his blessings through his two hands as a speaking-trumpet, after his friend's son as he departed to battle. hermas understood; but deeply as he was touched by this farewell he answered only by dumb signs. a father can find a hundred words of blessing sooner than a son can find one of thanks. as the youth disappeared behind the rocks, paulus said, "he marches on like an experienced soldier, and the others follow him as sheep follow a ram. but hark!--certainly--the foremost division of the pharanites and the enemy have met. the outcry comes nearer and nearer." "then all will be well," cried stephanus excitedly. "if they only take the bait and let themselves be drawn on to the plateau i think they are lost. from here we can watch the whole progress of the battle, and if our side are driven back it may easily happen that they will throw themselves into the castle. now not a pebble must be thrown in vain, for if our tower becomes the central point of the struggle the defenders will need stones to fling." these words were heard by several of the anchorites, and as now the warcries and the noise of the fight came nearer and nearer, and one and another repeated to each other that their place of refuge would, become the centre of the combat, the frightened penitents quitted the posts assigned to them by paulus, ran hither and thither in spite of the alexandrian's severe prohibition, and most of them at last joined the company of the old and feeble, whose psalms grew more and more lamentable as danger pressed closer upon them. loudest of all was the wailing of the saite orion who cried with uplifted bands, "what wilt thou of us miserable creatures, o lord? when moses left thy chosen people on this very spot for only forty days, they at once fell away from thee; and we, we without any leader have spent all our life in thy service, and have given up all that can rejoice the heart, and have taken every kind of suffering upon us to please thee! and now these hideous heathen are surging round us again, and will kill us. is this the reward of victory for our striving and our long wrestling?" the rest joined in the lamentation of the saite, but paulus stepped into their midst, blamed them for their cowardice, and with warm and urgent speech implored them to return to their posts so that the wall might be guarded at least on the eastern and more accessible side, and that the castle might not fall an easy prey into the hands of an enemy from whom no quarter was to be expected. some of the anchorites were already proceeding to obey the alexandrian's injunction, when a fearful cry, the war-cry of the blemmyes who were in pursuit of the pharanites, rose from the foot of their rock of refuge. they crowded together again in terror; salathiel the syrian, had ventured to the edge of the abyss, and had looked over old stephanus' shoulder down into the hollow, and when he rushed back to his companions, crying in terror, "our men are flying!" gelasius shrieked aloud, beat his breast, and tore his rough black hair, crying out: "o lord god, what wilt thou of us? is it vain then to strive after righteousness and virtue that thou givest us over unto death, and dost not fight for us? if we are overcome by the heathen, ungodliness and brute force will boast themselves as though they had won the victory over righteousness and truth!" paulus had turned from the lamenting hermits, perplexed and beside himself, and stood with stephanus watching the fight. the blemmyes had come in great numbers, and their attack, before which the pharanites were to have retired as a feint, fell with such force upon the foremost division that they and their comrades, who had rushed to their aid on the plateau, were unable to resist it, and were driven back as far as the spot where the ravine narrowed. "things are not as they should be," said stephanus. "and the cowardly band, like a drove of cattle," cried paulus in a fury, "leave the walls unprotected, and blaspheme god instead of watching or fighting." the anchorites noticed his gestures, which were indeed those of a desperate man, and sergius exclaimed: "are we then wholly abandoned? why does not the thorn-bush light its fires, and destroy the evil-doers with its flames? why is the thunder silent, and where are the lightnings that played round the peak of sinai? "why does not darkness fall upon us to affright the heathen? why does not the earth open her mouth to swallow them up like the company of korah?" "the might of god," cried dulas, "tarries too long. the lord must set our piety in a doubtful light, for he treats us as though we were unworthy of all care." "and that you are!" exclaimed paulus, who had heard the last words, and who was dragging rather than leading the feeble stephanus to the unguarded eastern wall. "that you are, for instead of resisting his enemies you blaspheme god, and disgrace yourself by your miserable cowardice. look at this sick old man who is prepared to defend you, and obey my orders without a murmur, or, by the holy martyrs, i will drag you to your posts by your hair and ears, and will--" but he ceased speaking, for his threats were interrupted by a powerful voice which called his name from the foot of the wall. "that is agapitus," exclaimed stephanus. "lead me to the wall, and set me down there." before paulus could accede to his friend's wish the tall form of the bishop was standing by his side. agapitus the cappadocian had in his youth been a warrior; he had hardly passed the limits of middle age, and was a vigilant captain of his congregation. when all the youth of pharan had gone forth to meet the blemmyes, he had no peace in the oasis, and, after enjoining on the presbyters and deacons that they should pray in the church for the fighting men with the women and the men who remained behind, he himself, accompanied by a guide and two acolytes, had gone up the mountain to witness the battle. to the other priests and his wife who sought to detain him, he had answered, "where the flock is there should the shepherd be!" unseen and unheard he had gained the castle-wall and had been a witness to paulus' vehement speech. he now stood opposite the alexandrian with rolling eyes, and threateningly lifted his powerful hand as he called out to him: "and dare an outcast speak thus to his brethren? will the champion of satan give orders to the soldiers of the lord? it would indeed be a joy to you if by your strong arm you could win back the good name that your soul, crippled by sin and guilt, has flung away. come on, my friends! the lord is with us and will help us." paulus had let the bishop's words pass over him in silence, and raised his hands like the other anchorites when agapitus stepped into their midst, and uttered a short and urgent prayer. after the "amen" the bishop pointed out, like a general, to each man, even to the feeble and aged, his place by the wall or behind the stones for throwing, and then cried out with a clear ringing voice that sounded above all other noise, "show to-day that you are indeed soldiers of the most high." not one rebelled, and when man by man each had placed himself at his post, he went to the precipice and looked attentively down at the fight that was raging below. the pharanites were now opposing the attack of the blemmyes with success, for phoebicius, rushing forward with his men from their ambush, had fallen upon the compact mass of the sons of the desert in flank and, spreading death and ruin, had divided them into two bodies. the welltrained and well-armed romans seemed to have an easy task with their naked opponents, who, in a hand to hand fight, could not avail themselves of either their arrows or their spears. but the blemmyes had learned to use their strength in frequent battles with the imperial troops, and so soon as they perceived that they were no match for their enemies in pitched battle, their leaders set up a strange shrill cry, their ranks dissolved, and they dispersed in all directions, like a heap of feathers strewn by a gust of wind. agapitus took the hasty disappearance of the enemy for wild flight, he sighed deeply and thankfully and turned to go down to the field of battle, and to speak consolation to his wounded fellow-christians. but in the castle itself he found opportunity for exercising his pious office, for before him stood the shepherdess whom he had already observed on his arrival and she said with much embarrassment, but clearly and quickly, "old stephanus there, my lord bishop--hermas' father for whom i carry water-bids me ask you to come to him; for his wound has reopened and he thinks his end is near." agapitus immediately obeyed this call; he went with hasty steps towards the sick man, whose wound paulus and orion had already bound up, and greeted him with a familiarity that he was far from showing to the other penitents. he had long known the former name and the fate of stephanus, and it was by his advice that hermas had been obliged to join the deputation sent to alexandria, for agapitus was of opinion that no one ought to flee from the battle of life without having first taken some part in it. stephanus put out his hand to the bishop who sat down beside him, signed to the bystanders to leave them alone, and listened attentively to the feeble words of the sufferer. when he had ceased speaking, agapitus said: "i praise the lord with you for having permitted your lost wife to find the ways that lead to him, and your son will be--as you were once--a valiant man of war. your earthly house is set in order, but are you prepared for the other, the everlasting mansion?" "for eighteen years i have done penance, and prayed, and borne great sufferings," answered the sick man. "the world lies far behind me, and i hope i am walking in the path that leads to heaven." "so do i hope for you and for your soul," said the bishop. "that which it is hardest to endure has fallen to your lot in this world, but have you striven to forgive those who did you the bitterest wrong, and can you pray, "forgive us our sins as we forgive them that sin against us?' do you remember the words, 'if ye forgive men their trespasses your heavenly father will also forgive you?'" "not only have i pardoned glycera," answered stephanus, "but i have taken her again into my heart of hearts; but the man who basely seduced her, the wretch, who although i had done him a thousand benefits, betrayed me, robbed me and dishonored me, i wish him--" "forgive him," cried agapitus, "as you would be forgiven." "i have striven these eighteen years to bless my enemy," replied stephanus, "and i will still continue to strive--" up to this moment the bishop had devoted his whole attention to the sick anchorite, but he was now called on all sides at once, and gelasius, who was standing by the declivity with some other anchorites, called out to him, "father--save us--the heathen there are climbing up the rocks." agapitus signed a blessing over stephanus and then turned away from him, saying earnestly once more, "forgive, and heaven is open to you." many wounded and dead lay on the plain, and the pharanites were retreating into the ravine, for the blemmyes had not indeed fled, but had only dispersed themselves, and then had climbed up the rocks which hemmed in the level ground and shot their arrows at their enemies from thence. "where are the romans?" agapitus eagerly enquired of orion. "they are withdrawing into the gorge through which the road leads up here," answered the saite. "but look! only look at these heathen! the lord be merciful to us! they are climbing up the cliffs like woodpeckers up a tree." "the stones, fly to the stones!" cried agapitus with flashing eyes to the anchorites that stood by. "what is going on behind the wall there? do you hear? yes that is the roman tuba. courage, brethren! the emperor's soldiers are guarding the weakest side of the castle. but look here at the naked figures in the cleft. bring the blocks here; set your shoulders stoutly to it, orion! one more push, salathiel! there it goes, it crashes down if only it does not stick in the rift! no! thank god, it has bounded off-that was a leap! well done--there were six enemies of the lord destroyed at once." "i see three more yonder," cried orion. "come here, damianus, and help me." the man he called rushed forward with several others, and the first success raised the courage of the anchorites so rapidly and wonderfully that the bishop soon found it difficult to restrain their zeal, and to persuade them to be sparing with the precious missiles. while, under the direction of agapitus stone after stone was hurled clattering over the steep precipice down upon the blemmyes, paulus sat by the sick man, looking at the ground. "you are not helping them?" asked stephanus. "agapitus is right," replied the alexandrian. "i have much to expiate, and fighting brings enjoyment. how great enjoyment i can understand by the torture it is to me to sit still. the bishop blessed you affectionately." "i am near the goal," sighed stephanus, "and he promises me the joys of heaven if i only forgive him who stole my wife from me. he is forgivenyes, all is forgiven him, and may everything that he undertakes turn to good; yea, and nothing turn to evil--only feel how my heart throbs, it is rallying its strength once more before it utterly ceases to beat. when it is all over repeat to hermas everything that i have told you, and bless him a thousand, thousand times in my name and his mother's; but never, never tell him that in an hour of weakness she ran away with that villain--that man, that miserable man i mean--whom i forgive. give hermas this ring, and with it the letter that you will find under the dry herbs on the couch in my cave; they will secure him a reception from his uncle, who will also procure him a place in the army, for my brother is in high favor with caesar. only listen how agapitus urges on our men; they are fighting bravely there; that is the roman tuba. attend to me-the maniple will occupy the castle and shoot down on the heathen from hence; when they come carry me into the tower. i am weak and would fain collect my thoughts, and pray once more that i may find strength to forgive the man not with my lips only." down there see--there come the romans," cried paulus interrupting him. "here, up here!" he called down to the men, "the steps are more to the left." "here we are," answered a sharp voice. "you stay there, you people, on that projection of rock, and keep your eye on the castle. if any danger threatens call me with the trumpet. i will climb up, and from the top of the tower there i can see where the dogs come from." during this speech stephanus had looked down and listened; when a few minutes later the gaul reached the wall and called out to the men inside, "is there no one there who will give me a hand?" he turned to paulus, saying, "lift me up and support me--quick!" with an agility that astonished the alexandrian, stephanus stood upon his feet, leaned over the wall towards the centurion--who had climbed as far as the outer foot of it, looked him in the face with eager attention, shuddered violently, and repressing his feelings with the utmost effort offered him his lean hand to help him. "servianus!" cried the centurion, who was greatly shocked by such a meeting and in such a place, and who, struggling painfully for composure, stared first at the old man and then at paulus. not one of the three succeeded in uttering a word; but stephanus' eyes were fixed on the gaul's features, and the longer he looked at him the hollower grew his cheeks and the paler his lips; at the same time he still held out his hand to the other, perhaps in token of forgiveness. so passed a long minute. then phoebicius recollected that he had climbed the wall in the emperor's service, and stamping with impatience at himself he took the old man's hand in a hasty grasp. but scarcely had stephanus felt the touch of the gaul's fingers when he started as struck by lightning, and flung himself with a hoarse cry on his enemy who was hanging on the edge of the wall. paulus gazed in horror at the frightful scene, and cried aloud with fervent unction, "let him go--forgive that heaven may forgive you." "heaven! what is heaven, what is forgiveness!" screamed the old man. "he shall be damned." before the alexandrian could hinder him, the loose stone over which the enemies were wrestling in breathless combat gave way, and both were hurled into the abyss with the falling rock. paulus groaned from the lowest depth of his breast and murmured while the tears ran down his cheeks, "he too has fought the fight, and he too has striven in vain." chapter xxi. the fight was ended; the sun as it went to its rest behind the holy mountain had lighted many corpses of blemmyes, and now the stars shone down on the oasis from the clear sky. hymns of praise sounded out of the church, and near it, under the hill against which it was built, torches were blazing and threw their ruddy light on a row of biers, on which under green palm-branches lay the heroes who had fallen in the battle against the blemmyes. now the hymn ceased, the gates of the house of god opened and agapitus led his followers towards the dead. the congregation gathered in a half-circle round their peaceful brethren, and heard the blessing that their pastor pronounced over the noble victims who had shed their blood in fighting the heathen. when it was ended those who in life had been their nearest and dearest went up to the dead, and many tears fell into the sand from the eye of a mother or a wife, many a sigh went up to heaven from a father's breast. next to the bier, on which old stephanus was resting, stood another and a smaller one, and between the two hermas knelt and wept. he raised his face, for a deep and kindly voice spoke his name. "petrus," said the lad, clasping the hand that the senator held out to him, "i felt forced and driven out into the world, and away from my father--and now he is gone for ever how gladly i would have been kept by him." "he died a noble death, in battle for those he loved," said the senator consolingly, "paulus was near him when he fell," replied hermas. "my father fell from the wall while defending the tower; but look here this girl--poor child-who used to keep your goats, died like a heroine. poor, wild miriam, how kind i would be to you if only you were alive now!" hermas as he spoke stroked the arm of the shepherdess, pressed a kiss on her small, cold hand, and softly folded it with the other across her bosom. "how did the girl get into the battle with the men?" asked petrus. "but you can tell me that in my own house. come and be our guest as long as it pleases you, and until you go forth into the world; thanks are due to you from us all." hermas blushed and modestly declined the praises which were showered on him on all sides as the savior of the oasis. when the wailing women appeared he knelt once more at the head of his father's bier, cast a last loving look at miriam's peaceful face, and then followed his host. the man and boy crossed the court together. hermas involuntarily glanced up at the window where more than once he had seen sirona, and said, as he pointed to the centurion's house, "he too fell." petrus nodded and opened the door of his house. in the hall, which was lighted up, dorothea came hastily to meet him, asking, "no news yet of polykarp?" her husband shook his head, and she added, "how indeed is it possible? he will write at the soonest from klysma or perhaps even from alexandria." "that is just what i think," replied petrus, looking down to the ground. then he turned to hermas and introduced him to his wife. dorothea received the young man with warm sympathy; she had heard that his father had fallen in the fight, and how nobly he too had distinguished himself. supper was ready, and hermas was invited to share it. the mistress gave her daughter a sign to make preparations for their guest, but petrus detained marthana, and said, "hermas may fill antonius' place; he has still something to do with some of the workmen. where are jethro and the house-slaves?" "they have already eaten," said dorothea. the husband and wife looked at each other, and petrus said with a melancholy smile, "i believe they are up on the mountain." dorothea wiped a tear from her eye as she replied, "they will meet antonius there. if only they could find polykarp! and yet i honestly say--not merely to comfort you--it is most probable that he has not met with any accident in the mountain gorges, but has gone to alexandria to escape the memories that follow him here at every step--was not that the gate?" she rose quickly and looked into the court, while petrus, who had followed her, did the same, saying with a deep sigh, as he turned to marthana--who, while she offered meat and bread to hermas was watching her parents--" it was only the slave anubis." for some time a painful silence reigned round the large table, to-day so sparely furnished with guests. at last petrus turned to his guest and said, "you were to tell me how the shepherdess miriam lost her life in the struggle. she had run away from our house--" "up the mountain," added hermas. "she supplied my poor father with water like a daughter." "you see, mother," interrupted marthana, "she was not bad-hearted-i always said so." "this morning," continued hermas, nodding in sad assent to the maiden, "she followed my father to the castle, and immediately after his fall, paulus told me, she rushed away from it, but only to seek me and to bring me the sad news. we had known each other a long time, for years she had watered her goats at our well, and while i was still quite a boy and she a little girl, she would listen for hours when i played on my willow pipe the songs which paulus had taught me. as long as i played she was perfectly quiet, and when i ceased she wanted to hear more and still more, until i had too much of it and went away. then she would grow angry, and if i would not do her will she would scold me with bad words. but she always came again, and as i had no other companion and she was the only creature who cared to listen to me, i was very well-content that she should prefer our well to all the others. then we grew order and i began to be afraid of her, for she would talk in such a godless way--and she even died a heathen. paulus, who once overheard us, warned me against her, and as i had long thrown away the pipe and hunted beasts with my bow and arrow whenever my father would let me, i was with her for shorter intervals when i went to the well to draw water, and we became more and more strangers; indeed, i could be quite hard to her. only once after i came back from the capital something happened--but that i need not tell you. the poor child was so unhappy at being a slave and no doubt had first seen the light in a free-house. "she was fond of me, more than a sister is of a brother--and when my father was dead she felt that i ought not to learn the news from any one but herself. she had seen which way i had gone with the pharanites and followed me up, and she soon found me, for she had the eyes of a gazelle and the ears of a startled bird. it was not this time difficult to find me, for when she sought me we were fighting with the blemmyes in the green hollow that leads from the mountain to the sea. they roared with fury like wild beasts, for before we could get to the sea the fishermen in the little town below had discovered their boats, which they had hidden under sand and stones, and had carried them off to their harbor. the boy from raithu who accompanied me, had by my orders kept them in sight, and had led the fishermen to the hiding-place. the watchmen whom they had left with the boats had fled, and had reached their companions who were fighting round the castle; and at least two hundred of them had been sent back to the shore to recover possession of the boats and to punish the fishermen. this troop met us in the green valley, and there we fell to fighting. "the blemmyes outnumbered us; they soon surrounded us before and behind, on the right side and on the left, for they jumped and climbed from rock to rock like mountain goats and then shot down their reed-arrows from above. three or four touched me, and one pierced my hair and remained hanging in it with the feather at the end of the shaft. "how the battle went elsewhere i cannot tell you, for the blood mounted to my head, and i was only conscious that i myself snorted and shouted like a madman and wrestled with the heathen now here and now there, and more than once lifted my axe to cleave a skull. at the same time i saw a part of our men turn to fly, and i called them back with furious words; then they turned round and followed me again. "once, in the midst of the struggle, i saw miriam too, clinging pale and trembling to a rock and looking on at the fight. i shouted to her to leave the spot, and go back to my father, but she stood still and shook her head with a gesture--a gesture so full of pity and anguish--i shall never forget it. with hands and eyes she signed to me that my father was dead, and i understood; at least i understood that some dreadful misfortune had happened. i had no time for reflection, for before i could gain any certain information by word of mouth, a captain of the heathen had seized me, and we came to a life and death struggle before miriam's very eyes. my opponent was strong, but i showed the girl--who had often taunted me for being a weakling because i obeyed my father in everything--that i need yield to no one. i could not have borne to be vanquished before her and i flung the heathen to the ground and slew him with my axe. i was only vaguely conscious of her presence, for during my severe struggle i could see nothing but my adversary. but suddenly i heard a loud scream, and miriam sank bleeding close before me. while i was kneeling over his comrade one of the blemmyes had crept up to me, and had flung his lance at me from a few paces off. but miriam--miriam--" "she saved you at the cost of her own life," said petrus completing the lad's sentence, for at the recollection of the occurrence his voice had failed and his eyes overflowed with tears. hermas nodded assent, and then added softly: "she threw up her arms and called my name as the spear struck her. the eldest son of obedianus punished the heathen that had done it, and i supported her as she fell dying and took her curly head on my knees and spoke her name; she opened her eyes once more, and spoke mine softly and with indescribable tenderness. i had never thought that wild miriam could speak so sweetly, i was overcome with terrible grief, and kissed her eyes and her lips. she looked at me once more with a long, wide-open, blissful gaze, and then she was dead." "she was a heathen," said dorothea, drying her eyes, "but for such a death the lord will forgive her much." "i loved her dearly," said marthana, "and will lay my sweetest flowers on her grave. may i cut some sprays from your blooming myrtle for a wreath?" "to-morrow, to-morrow, my child," replied dorothea. "now go to rest; it is already very late." "only let me stay till antonius and jethro come back," begged the girl. "i would willingly help you to find your son," said hermas, "and if you wish i will go to raithu and klysma, and enquire among the fishermen. had the centurion--" and as he spoke the young soldier looked down in some embarrassment, "had the centurion found his fugitive wife of whom he was in pursuit with talib, the amalekite, before he died?" "sirona has not yet reappeared," replied petrus, and perhaps--but just now you mentioned the name of paulus, who was so dear to you and your father. do you know that it was he who so shamelessly ruined the domestic peace of the centurion?" "paulus!" cried hermas. "how can you believe it?" "phoebicius found his sheepskin in his wife's room," replied petrus gravely. "and the impudent alexandrian recognized it as his own before us all and allowed the gaul to punish him. he committed the disgraceful deed the very evening that you were sent off to gain intelligence." "and phoebicius flogged him?" cried hermas beside himself. "and the poor fellow bore this disgrace and your blame, and all--all for my sake. now i understand what he meant! i met him after the battle and he told me that my father was dead. when he parted from me, he said he was of all sinners the greatest, and that i should hear it said down in the oasis. but i know better; he is great-hearted and good, and i will not bear that he should be disgraced and slandered for my sake." hermas had sprung up with these words, and as he met the astonished gaze of his hosts, he tried to collect himself, and said: "paulus never even saw sirona, and i repeat it, if there is a man who may boast of being good and pure and quite without sin, it is he. for me, and to save me from punishment and my father from sorrow, he owned a sin that he never committed. such a deed is just like him--the brave-faithful friend! but such shameful suspicion and disgrace shall not weigh upon him a moment longer!" "you are speaking to an older man," said petrus angrily interrupting the youth's vehement speech. "your friend acknowledged with his own lips--" "then he told a lie out of pure goodness," hermas insisted. "the sheepskin that the gaul found was mine. i had gone to sirona, while her husband was sacrificing to mithras, to fetch some wine for my father, and she allowed me to try on the centurion's armor; when he unexpectedly returned i leaped out into the street and forgot that luckless sheepskin. paulus met me as i fled, and said he would set it all right, and sent me away--to take my place and save my father a great trouble. look at me as severely as you will, dorothea, but it was only in thoughtless folly that i slipped into the gaul's house that evening, and by the memory of my father--of whom heaven has this day bereft me--i swear that sirona only amused herself with me as with a boy, a child, and even refused to let me kiss her beautiful golden hair. as surely as i hope to become a warrior, and as surely as my father's spirit hears what i say, the guilt that paulus took upon himself was never committed at all, and when you condemned sirona you did an injustice, for she never broke her faith to her husband for me, nor still less for paulus." petrus and dorothea exchanged a meaning glance, and dorothea said: "why have we to learn all this from the lips of a stranger? it sounds very extraordinary, and yet how simple! aye, husband, it would have become us better to guess something of this than to doubt sirona. from the first it certainly seemed to me impossible that that handsome woman, for whom quite different people had troubled themselves should err for this queer beggar--" "what cruel injustice has fallen on the poor man!" cried petrus. "if he had boasted of some noble deed, we should indeed have been less ready to give him credence." "we are suffering heavy punishment," sighed dorothea, "and my heart is bleeding. why did you not come to us, hermas, if you wanted wine? how much suffering would have been spared if you had!" the lad looked down, and was silent; but soon he recollected himself, and said eagerly: "let me go and seek the hapless paulus; i return you thanks for your kindness but i cannot bear to stay here any longer. i must go back to the mountain." the senator and his wife did not detain him, and when the court-yard gate had closed upon him a great stillness reigned in petrus' sitting-room. dorothea leaned far back in her seat and sat looking in her lap while the tears rolled over her cheeks; marthana held her hand and stroked it, and the senator stepped to the window and sighed deeply as he looked down into the dark court. sorrow lay on all their hearts like a heavy leaden burden. all was still in the spacious room, only now and then a loud, long-drawn cry of the wailing women rang through the quiet night and reached them through the open window; it was a heavy hour, rich in vain, but silent self-accusation, in anxiety, and short prayers; poor in hope or consolation. presently petrus heaved a deep sigh, and dorothea rose to go up to him and to say to him some sincere word of affection; but just then the dogs in the yard barked, and the agonized father said softly--in deep dejection, and prepared for the worst: "most likely it is they." the deaconess pressed his hand in hers, but drew back when a light tap was heard at the court-yard gate. "it is not jethro and antonius." said petrus, "they have a key." marthana had gone up to him, and she clung to him as he leaned far out of the window and called to whoever it was that had tapped: "who is that knocking?" the dogs barked so loud that neither the senator nor the women were able to hear the answer which seemed to be returned. "listen to argus," said dorothea, "he never howls like that, but when you come home or one of us, or when he is pleased." petrus laid his finger on his lips and sounded a clear, shrill whistle, and as the dogs, obedient to this signal, were silent, he once more called out, "whoever you may be, say plainly who you are, that i may open the gate." they were kept waiting some few minutes for the answer, and the senator was on the point of repeating his enquiry, when a gentle voice timidly came from the gate to the window, saying, "it is i, petrus, the fugitive sirona." hardly had the words tremulously pierced the silence, when marthana broke from her father, whose hand was resting on her shoulder, and flew out of the door, down the steps and out to the gate. "sirona; poor, dear sirona," cried the girl as she pushed back the bolt; as soon as she had opened the door and sirona had entered the court, she threw herself on her neck, and kissed and stroked her as if she were her long lost sister found again; then, without allowing her to speak, she seized her hand and drew her--in spite of the slight resistance she offered--with many affectionate exclamations up the steps and into the sitting-room. petrus and dorothea met her on the threshold, and the latter pressed her to her heart, kissed her forehead and said, "poor woman; we know now that we have done you an injustice, and will try to make it good." the senator too went up to her, took her hand and added his greetings to those of his wife, for he knew not whether she had as yet heard of her husband's end. sirona could not find a word in reply. she had expected to be expelled as a castaway when she came down the mountain, losing her way in the darkness. her sandals were cut by the sharp rocks, and hung in strips to her bleeding feet, her beautiful hair was tumbled by the night-wind, and her white robe looked like a ragged beggar's garment, for she had torn it to make bandages for polykarp's wound. some hours had already passed since she had left her patient--her heart full of dread for him and of anxiety as to the hard reception she might meet with from his parents. how her hand shook with fear of petrus and dorothea as she raised the brazen knocker of the senator's door, and now--a father, a mother, a sister opened their arms to her, and an affectionate home smiled upon her. her heart and soul overflowed with boundless emotion and unlimited thankfulness, and weeping loudly, she pressed her clasped hands to her breast. but she spared only a few moments for the enjoyment of these feelings of delight, for there was no happiness for her without polykarp, and it was for his sake that she had undertaken this perilous night-journey. marthana had tenderly approached her, but she gently put her aside, saying, "not just now, dear girl. i have already wasted an hour, for i lost my way in the ravines. get ready petrus to come back to the mountain with me at once, for--but do not be startled dorothea, paulus says that the worst danger is over, and if polykarp--" "for god's sake, do you know where he is?" cried dorothea, and her cheeks crimsoned while petrus turned pale, and, interrupting her, asked in breathless anxiety, "where is polykarp, and what has happened to him?" "prepare yourself to hear bad news," said sirona, looking at the pair with mournful anxiety as if to crave their pardon for the evil tidings she was obliged to bring. "polykarp had a fall on a sharp stone and so wounded his head. paulus brought him to me this morning before he set out against the blemmyes, that i might nurse him. i have incessantly cooled his wound, and towards mid-day he opened his eyes and knew me again, and said you would be anxious about him. after sundown he went to sleep, but he is not wholly free from fever, and as soon as paulus came in i set out to quiet your anxiety and to entreat you to give me a cooling potion, that i may return to him with it at once." the deepest sorrow sounded in sirona's accents as she told her story, and tears had started to her eyes as she related to the parents what had befallen their son. petrus and dorothea listened as to a singer, who, dressed indeed in robes of mourning, nevertheless sings a lay of return and hope to a harp wreathed with flowers. quick, quick, marthana," cried dorothea eagerly and with sparkling eyes, before sirona had ended. "quick, the basket with the bandages. i will mix the fever-draught myself." petrus went up to the gaulish woman. "it is really no worse than you represent?" he asked in a low voice. "he is alive? and paulus--" "paulus says," interrupted sirona, "that with good nursing the sick man will be well in a few weeks." "and you can lead me to him?" "oh, alas! alas!" sirona cried, striking her hand against her forehead. "i shall never succeed in finding my way back, for i noticed no waymarks! but stay--before us a penitent from memphis, who has been dead a few weeks--" "old serapion?" asked petrus. "that was his name," exclaimed sirona. "do you know his cave?" "how should i?" replied petrus. "but perhaps agapitus--" "the spring where i got the water to cool polykarp's wound, paulus calls the partridge's-spring." "the partridge's-spring," repeated the senator, "i know that." with a deep sigh he took his staff, and called to dorothea, "do you prepare the draught, the bandages, torches, and your good litter, while i knock at our neighbor magadon's door, and ask him to lend us slaves." "let me go with you," said marthana. "no, no; you stay here with your mother." "and do you think that i can wait here?" asked dorothea. "i am going with you." "there is much here for you to do," replied petrus evasively, "and we must climb the hill quickly." "i should certainly delay you," sighed the mother, "but take the girl with you; she has a light and lucky hand." "if you think it best," said the senator, and he left the room. while the mother and daughter prepared everything for the nightexpedition, and came and went, they found time to put many questions and say many affectionate words to sirona. marthana, even without interrupting her work, set food and drink for the weary woman on the table by which she had sunk on a seat; but she hardly moistened her lips. when the young girl showed her the basket that she had filled with medicine and linen bandages, with wine and pure water, sirona said, "now lend me a pair of your strongest sandals, for mine are all torn, and i cannot follow the men without shoes, for the stones are sharp, and cut into the flesh." marthana now perceived for the first time the blood on her friend's feet, she quickly took the lamp from the table and placed it on the pavement, exclaiming, as she knelt down in front of sirona and took her slender white feet in her hand to look at the wounds on the soles, "good heavens! here are three deep cuts!" in a moment she had a basin at hand, and was carefully bathing the wounds in sirona's feet; while she was wrapping the injured foot in strips of linen dorothea came up to them. "i would," she said, "that polykarp were only here now, this roll would suffice to bind you both." a faint flush overspread sirona's cheeks, but dorothea was suddenly conscious of what she had said, and marthana gently pressed her friend's hand. when the bandage was securely fixed, sirona attempted to walk, but she succeeded so badly that petrus, who now came back with his friend magadon and his sons, and several slaves, found it necessary to strictly forbid her to accompany them. he felt sure of finding his son without her, for one of magadon's people had often carried bread and oil to old serapion and knew his cave. before the senator and his daughter left the room he whispered a few words to his wife, and together they went up to sirona. "do you know," he asked, "what has happened to your husband?" "sirona nodded. "i heard it from paulus," she answered. "now i am quite alone in the world." "not so," replied petrus. "you will find shelter and love under our roof as if it were your father's, so long as it suits you to stay with us. you need not thank us--we are deeply in your debt. farewell till we meet again wife. i would polykarp were safe here, and that you had seen his wound. come, marthana, the minutes are precious." when dorothea and sirona were alone, the deaconess said, "now i will go and make up a bed for you, for you must be very tired." "no, no!" begged sirona. "i will wait and watch with you, for i certainly could not sleep till i know how it is with him." she spoke so warmly and eagerly that the deaconess gratefully offered her hand to her young friend. then she said, "i will leave you alone for a few minutes, for my heart is so full of anxiety that i must needs go and pray for help for him, and for courage and strength for myself." "take me with you," entreated sirona in a low tone. "in my need i opened my heart to your good and loving god, and i will never more pray to any other. the mere thought of him strengthened and comforted me, and now, if ever, in this hour i need his merciful support." "my child, my daughter!" cried the deaconess, deeply moved; she bent over sirona, kissed her forehead and her lips, and led her by the hand into her quiet sleeping-room. "this is the place where i most love to pray," she said, "although there is here no image and no altar. my god is everywhere present and in every place i can find him." the two women knelt down side by side, and both besought the same god for the same mercies--not for themselves, but for another; and both in their sorrow could give thanks--sirona, because in dorothea she had found a mother, and dorothea, because in sirona she had found a dear and loving daughter. chapter xxii. paulus was sitting in front of the cave that had sheltered polykarp and sirona, and he watched the torches whose light lessened as the bearers went farther and farther towards the valley. they lighted the way for the wounded sculptor, who was being borne home to the oasis, lying in his mother's easy litter, and accompanied by his father and his sister. "yet an hour," thought the anchorite, "and the mother will have her son again, yet a week and polykarp will rise from his bed, yet a year and he will remember nothing of yesterday but a scar--and perhaps a kiss that he pressed on the gaulish woman's rosy lips. i shall find it harder to forget. the ladder which for so many years i had labored to construct, on which i thought to scale heaven, and which looked to me so lofty and so safe, there it lies broken to pieces, and the hand that struck it down was my own weakness. it would almost seem as if this weakness of mine had more power than what we call moral strength for that which it took the one years to build up, was wrecked by the other in a' moment. in weakness only am i a giant." paulus shivered at these words, for he was cold. early in that morning when he had taken upon himself hermas' guilt he had abjured wearing his sheepskin; now his body, accustomed to the warm wrap, suffered severely, and his blood coursed with fevered haste through his veins since the efforts, night-watches, and excitement of the last few days. he drew his little coat close around him with a shiver and muttered, "i feel like a sheep that has been shorn in midwinter, and my head burns as if i were a baker and had to draw the bread out of the oven; a child might knock me down, and my eyes are heavy. i have not even the energy to collect my thoughts for a prayer, of which i am in such sore need. my goal is undoubtedly the right one, but so soon as i seem to be nearing it, my weakness snatches it from me, as the wind swept back the fruit-laden boughs which tantalus, parched with thirst, tried to grasp. i fled from the world to this mountain, and the world has pursued me and has flung its snares round my feet. i must seek a lonelier waste in which i may be alone--quite alone with my god and myself. there, perhaps i may find the way i seek, if indeed the fact that the creature that i call "i," in which the whole world with all its agitations in little finds room--and which will accompany me even there--does not once again frustrate all my labor. he who takes his self with him into the desert, is not alone." paulus sighed deeply and then pursued his reflections: "how puffed up with pride i was after i had tasted the gaul's rods in place of hermas, and then i was like a drunken man who falls down stairs step by step. and poor stephanus too had a fall when he was so near the goal! he failed in strength to forgive, and the senator who has just now left me, and whose innocent son i had so badly hurt, when we parted forgivingly gave me his hand. i could see that he did forgive me with all his heart, and this petrus stands in the midst of life, and is busy early and late with mere worldly affairs." for a time he looked thoughtfully before him, and then he went on in his soliloquy, "what was the story that old serapion used to tell? in the thebaid there dwelt a penitent who thought he led a perfectly saintly life and far transcended all his companions in stern virtue. once he dreamed that there was in alexandria a man even more perfect than himself; phabis was his name, and he was a shoemaker, dwelling in the white road near the harbor of kibotos. the anchorite at once went to the capital and found the shoemaker, and when he asked him, 'how do you serve the lord? how do you conduct your life?' phabis looked at him in astonishment. 'i? well, my saviour! i work early and late, and provide for my family, and pray morning and evening in few words for the whole city.' petrus, it seems to me, is such an one as phabis; but many roads lead to god, and we--and i--" again a cold shiver interrupted his meditation, and as morning approached the cold was so keen that he endeavored to light a fire. while he was painfully blowing the charcoal hermas came up to him. he had learned from polykarp's escort where paulus was to be found, and as he stood opposite his friend he grasped his hand, stroked his rough hair and thanked him with deep and tender emotion for the great sacrifice he had made for him when he had taken upon himself the dishonoring punishment of his fault. paulus declined all pity or thanks, and spoke to hermas of his father and of his future, until it was light, and the young man prepared to go down to the oasis to pay the last honors to the dead. to his entreaty that he would accompany him, paulus only answered: "no--no; not now, not now; for if i were to mix with men now i should fly asunder like a rotten wineskin full of fermenting wine; a swarm of bees is buzzing in my head, and an ant-hill is growing in my bosom. go now and leave me alone." after the funeral ceremony hermas took an affectionate leave of agapitus, petrus, and dorothea, and then returned to the alexandrian, with whom he went to the cave where he had so long lived with his dead father. there paulus delivered to him his father's letter to his uncle, and spoke to him more lovingly than he had ever done before. at night they both lay down on their beds, but neither of them found rest or sleep. from time to time paulus murmured in a low voice, but in tones of keen anguish, "in vain--all in vain--" and again, "i seek, i seek--but who can show me the way?" they both rose before daybreak; hermas went once more down to the well, knelt down near it, and felt as though he were bidding farewell to his father and miriam. memories of every kind rose up in his soul, and so mighty is the glorifying power of love that the miserable, brown-skinned shepherdess miriam seemed to him a thousand-fold more beautiful than that splendid woman who filled the soul of a great artist with delight. shortly after sunrise paulus conducted him to the fishing-port, and to the israelite friend who managed the business of his father's house; he caused him to be bountifully supplied with gold and accompanied him to the ship laden with charcoal, that was to convey hire to klysma. the parting was very painful to him, and when hermas saw his eyes full of tears and felt his hands tremble, he said, "do not be troubled about me, paulus; we shall meet again, and i will never forget you and my father." "and your mother," added the anchorite. "i shall miss you sorely, but trouble is the very thing i look for. he who succeeds in making the sorrows of the whole world his own--he whose soul is touched by a sorrow at every breath he draws--he indeed must long for the call of the redeemer." hermas fell weeping on his neck and started to feel how burning the anchorite's lips were as he pressed them to his forehead. at last the sailors drew in the ropes; paulus turned once more to the youth. "you are going your own way now," he said. "do not forget the holy mountain, and hear this: of all sins three are most deadly: to serve false gods, to covet your neighbor's wife, and to raise your hands to kill; keep yourself from them. and of all virtues two are the least conspicuous, and at the same time the greatest: truthfulness and humility; practise these. of all consolations these two are the best: the consciousness of wishing the right however much we may err and stumble through human weakness, and prayer." once more he embraced the departing youth, then he went across the sand of the shore back to the mountain without looking round. hermas looked after him for a long time greatly distressed, for his strong friend tottered like a drunken man, and often pressed his hand to his head which was no doubt as burning as his lips. the young warrior never again saw the holy mountain or paulus, but after he himself had won fame and distinction in the army he met again with petrus' son, polykarp, whom the emperor had sent for to byzantium with great honor, and in whose house the gaulish woman sirona presided as a true and loving wife and mother. after his parting from hermas, paulus disappeared. the other anchorites long sought him in vain, as well as bishop agapitus, who had learned from petrus that the alexandrian had been punished and expelled in innocence, and who desired to offer him pardon and consolation in his own person. at last, ten days after, orion the saite found him in a remote cave. the angel of death had called him only a few hours before while in the act of prayer, for he was scarcely cold. he was kneeling with his forehead against the rocky wall and his emaciated hands were closely clasped over magdalena's ring. when his companions had laid him on his bier his noble, gentle features wore a pure and transfiguring smile. the news of his death flew with wonderful rapidity through the oasis and the fishing-town, and far and wide to the caves of the anchorites, and even to the huts of the amalekite shepherds. the procession that followed him to his last resting-place stretched to an invisible distance; in front of all walked agapitus with the elders and deacons, and behind them petrus with his wife and family, to which sirona now belonged. polykarp, who was now recovering, laid a palm-branch in token of reconcilement on his grave, which was visited as a sacred spot by the many whose needs he had alleviated in secret, and before long by all the penitents from far and wide. petrus erected a monument over his grave, on which polykarp incised the words which paulus' trembling fingers had traced just before his death with a piece of charcoal on the wall of his cave: "pray for me, a miserable man--for i was a man." etext editor's bookmarks: he out of the battle can easily boast of being unconquered pray for me, a miserable man--for i was a man this ebook was produced by david widger <widger@cecomet.net> [note: there is a short list of bookmarks, or pointers, at the end of the file for those who may wish to sample the author's ideas before making an entire meal of them. d.w.] margery by georg ebers volume 3. chapter xi. herdegen was to be back in padua before passion week, and i shall remember with thankfulness to the day of my death the few months after worthy veit spiesz's burial and before my brother's departure. not a day passed without our meeting; and after my heart had moved me to tell cousin maud all that had happened, and herdegen had given his consent, we were rid once for all of the mystery which had at first weighed on our souls. verily the worthy lady found it no light matter to look kindly on this early and ill-matched betrothal; yet had she not the heart, nor the power, to make any resistance. when two young folks who are dear to her are brimfull of high happiness, the woman who would turn them out of that garden of eden and spoil their present bliss with warnings of future woe must be of another heart and mind than cousin maud. she indeed foresaw grief to come in many an hour of mistrust by day and many a sleepless night, more especially by reason of her awe and dread of my grand-uncle; and indeed, she herself was not bereft of the old pride of race which dwells in every nuremberger who is born under a knight's coat of arms. that ann was poor she held of no account; but that she was not of noble birth was indeed a grief and filled her with doubts. but then, when her best-beloved herdegen's eyes shone so brightly, and she saw ann cling to him with maidenly rapture, vexation and care were no more. if i had sung a loud hymn of praise in the woods over their spring and autumn beauty--and verily it had welled up from my heart--i was ready to think winter in the town no less gladsome, in especial under the shelter of a home so warm and well built as our old schopper-hof. in the last century, when, at the time of the emperor carolus--[charles iv., 1348]--coming to the throne, the guilds, under the leadership of the gaisbarts and pfauentritts, had risen against the noble families and the worshipful council, they accused the elders of keeping house not as beseemed plain citizens but after the manner of princes; and they were not far wrong, for indeed i have heard tell that when certain merchants from scandinavia came to our city, they said that the dwelling of a nuremberg noble was a match in every way for their king's palace. [gaisbart (goat's beard) and pfauentritt (peacock-strut), were nicknames given to the leaders of the guilds who rebelled against the patrician families in nuremberg, from whom alone the aldermen or town-council could be elected. this patrician class originated in 1198 under the emperor henry iv., who ennobled 38 families of the citizens. they were in some sort comparable with the families belonging to the signoria at venice, from whom, in the same way, the great council was chosen.] as touching our house, it was four stories high, and with seven windows in every story; with well devised oriels at the corners, and pointed turrets on the roof. the gables were on the street, in three steps; over the great house door there was our coat of arms, the three links of the schopppes and the fool's head with cap and bells as a crest on the top of the casque. the middle windows of the first and second stories were of noble size, and there glittered therein bright and beautiful panes of venice glass, whereas the other windows were of small roundels set in lead. and while from outside it was a fine, fair house to look upon, i never hope to behold a warmer or more snug and comfortable dwelling than the living-rooms within which was our home the winter through; albeit i found the saloons and chambers in the palaces of the signori at venice loftier and more airy, and greater and grander. whenever i have been homesick under the sunny blue sky of italy, it was for the most part that i longed after the rich, fresh green foliage and flowing streams of my own land; but, next to them, after our pleasant chamber in the schopper-house, with its warm, green-tiled stove, with the figures of the apostles, and the corner window where i had spun so many a hank of fine yarn, and which was so especially mine own--although i was ever ready and glad to yield my right to it, when herdegen required it to sit in and make love to his sweetheart. the walls of this fine chamber were hung with flanders tapestry, and i can to this day see the pictures which were so skilfully woven into it. that i loved best, from the time when i was but a small thing, was the birth of the saviour, wherein might be seen the mother and child, oxen and asses, the three holy kings from the east--the goodliest of them all a blackamoor with a great yellow beard flowing down over his robes. on the other hangings a tournament might be seen; and i mind me to this day how that, when i was a young child, i would gaze up at the herald who was blowing the trumpet in fear lest his cheeks should burst, inasmuch as they were so greatly puffed out and he never ceased blowing so hard. between the top of these hangings and the ceiling was a light wood cornice of oak-timber, on which my father, god rest him, had caused various posies to be carved of his own devising. you might here read: "like a face our life may be to which love lendeth eyes to see." or again, "the lord almighty hides his glorious face that so we may not cease to seek his grace." or else, "the lord shall rule my life while i sit still, and rule it rightly by his righteous will." and whereas my father had loved mirthful song he had written in another place: "if life be likened to a thorny place song is the flowery spray that lends it grace." some of these rhymes had been carved there by my grandfather, for example these lines: "by horse and wain i've journeyed up and down, yet found no match for this my native town." and under our coat of arms was this posy. "while the chain on the scutcheon holds firm and fast the fool on the crest will be game to the last." of the goodly carved seats, and the cushions covered with motley woven stuffs from the levant, right pleasant to behold, of all the fine treasures on the walls, the venice mirrors, and the metal cage with a grey parrot therein, which jordan kubbelmg, the falconer from brunswick, had given to my dear mother, i will say no more; but i would have it understood that all was clean and bright, well ordered and of good choice, and above all snug and warm. nay, and if it had all been far less costly and good to look at, there was, as it were, a breath of home which must have gladdened any man's heart: inasmuch as all these goodly things were not of yesterday nor of to-day, but had long been a joy to many an one dear to us; so that our welfare in that dwelling was but the continuing of the good living which our parents and grandparents had known before us. howbeit, those who will read this writing know what a patrician's house in nuremberg is wont to be; and he who hath lived through a like childhood himself needs not to be told how well hide and seek may be played in a great hall, or what various and merry pastime can be devised in the twilight, in a dining hall where the lights hang from the huge beams of the ceiling; and we for certain knew every game that was worthy to be named. but by this time all this was past and gone; only the love of song would never die out in the dwelling of the man who had been well-pleased to hear himself called by his fellows "schopper the singer." ah! how marvellous well did their voices sound, ann's and my brother's, when they sang german songs to the lute or the mandoline, or perchance italian airs, as they might choose. but there was one which i could never weary of hearing and which, meseemed, must work on herdegen's wayward heart as a cordial. the words were those of master walther von der vogelweirde, and were as follows: "true love is neither man nor maid, no body hath nor yet a soul, nor any semblance here below, its name we hear, itself unknown. yet without love no man may win the grace and favor of the lord. put then thy trust in those who love; in no false heart may love abide." and when they came to the last lines kunz would ofttimes join in, taking the bass part or continuo to the melody. otherwise he kept modestly in the background, for since he had come to know that herdegen and ann were of one mind he waited on her as a true and duteous squire, while he was now more silent than in past time, and in his elder brother's presence almost dumb. yet at this i marvelled not, inasmuch as i many a time marked that brethren are not wont to say much to each other, and even between friends the one is ready enough to be silent if the other takes the word. moreover at easter kunz was likewise to quit home, and go to venice at my granduncle's behest. herdegen's love for his brother had, of a certainty, suffered no breach; but, like many another disciple of minerva, he was disposed to look down on the votaries of mercury. nevertheless the links of the schopper chain, to which ann had now been joined as a fourth, held together right bravely, and when we sang not, but met for friendly talk, our discourse was but seldom of worthless, vain matters, forasmuch as herdegen was one of those who are ready and free of speech to impart what he had himself learned, and it was ann's especial gift to listen keenly and question discreetly. and what was there that my brother had not learned from the great guarino, and the not less great humanist, his disciple vittorino da feltre, at that time magistri at padua? and how he had found the time, in a right gay and busy life, to study not merely the science of law but also greek, and that so diligently that his master was ever ready to laud him, was to me a matter for wonder. and how gladly we hearkened while he told us of the great plato, and gave us to know wherefore and on what grounds his doctrine seemed to him, herdegen, sounder and loftier than that of aristotle, concerning whom he had learned much erewhile in nuremberg. and whereas i was moved to fear lest these works of the heathen should tempt him to stray from the true faith, my soul found comfort when he proved to us that so glorious a lamp of the church as saint augustine had followed them on many points. also herdegen had written out many verses of homer's great song from a precious written book, and had learned to master them well from the teaching of the doctor of feltre. they were that portion in which a great hero in the fight, or ever he goes forth to battle, takes leave of his wife and little son; and to me and ann it seemed so fine and withal so touching, that we could well understand how it should be that petrarca wrote that no more than to behold a book of homer made him glad, and that he longed above all things to clasp that great man in his arms. indeed, the poems and writings of petrarca yielded us greater delights than all the greek and roman heathen. master ulsenius had before now lent them to ann, and she like a bee from a flower would daily suck a drop of honey from their store. yet was there one testimony of petrarca's--who was, for sure, of all lovers the truest--which she loved above all else. in the dreadful time of the black death which came as a scourge on all the world, and chiefly on italy, in the past century, the lady to whom he had vowed the deepest and purest devotion, appeared to him in a dream one fair spring morning as an angel of heaven. and whereas he inquired of her whether she were in life, she answered him in these words: "see that thou know me; for i am she who led thee out of the path of common men, inasmuch as thy young heart clung to me." and lo! on that very sixth of april, which brought him that vision, one and twenty years after that he had first beheld her, laura had made a pious end. with beseeching eyes ann would repeat to her best beloved, as they sat together in the oriel bay, how that laura had led her petrarca from the ways of common men; and it went to my heart to hear her entreat him, with timid and yet fond and heartfelt prayer, to grant to her to be his laura and to guide him far from the beaten path, forasmuch as it was narrow and low for his winged spirit. and while she thus spoke her great eyes had a marvellous clear and glorious light, and when i looked in her face wrapped in the veil of her mourning for her father, my spirit grew solemn, as though i were in church. herdegen must have felt this likewise, methinks, for he would bend the knee before her and hide his face in her lap, and kiss her hands again and again. but these solemn hours were few. first and last it was a happy fellowship, free and gay, though mingled with earnest, that held us together; and when ann's father had been some few weeks dead our old gleefulness came back to us again, and then, after gazing at her for a while, herdegen would suddenly strike the lute and sing the old merry round: "come, sweetheart, come to me. ah how i pine for thee! ah, how i pine for thee come, sweetheart, come to me. sweet rosy lips to kiss, come then and bring me bliss, come then and bring me bliss, sweet rosy lips to kiss!" and we would all join in, even cousin maud; nay and she would look another way or quit the chamber, stealing away behind kunz and holding up a warning finger, when she perceived how his ann's "sweet, rosy lips" tempted herdegen's to kiss them. but there were other many songs, and ofttimes, when we were in a more than common merry mood, we strange young things would sing the saddest tales and tunes we knew, such as that called "two waters," and yet were we only the more gay. herdegen could not be excused from his duty of paying his respects from time to time to the many friends of our honorable family, yet would he ever keep away from dances and feastings, and when he was compelled to attend i was ever at his side, and it was a joy to me to see how courteous, and withal how cold, was his demeanor to all other ladies. the master's fiftieth birthday was honored in due course at the tetzels' house, and to please my granduncle, herdegen could not refuse to do his part in song and in the dance, and likewise to lead out ursula, the daughter of the house, in the dances. nor did he lose his gay but careless mien, although she would not quit his side and chose him to dance with her in "the sulkers," a dance wherein the man and maid first turn their backs on each other and then make it up and kiss. but when it came to this, maiden shame sent the blood into my cheeks; for at the sound of the music, in the face of all the company she fell into his arms, as it were by mishap; and it served her right when he would not kiss her lips, which she was ready enough to offer, but only touched her brow with his. forasmuch as she had danced with him the dance of honor or first dance, it was his part to beg her hand for the last dance--the "grandfather's dance;"--[still a well-known country dance in germany.]--but she would fain punish him for the vexation he had caused her and turned her back upon him. he, however, would have none of this; he grasped her hand ere she was aware of him, and dragged her after him. it was vain to struggle, and soon his strong will was a pleasure to her, and her countenance beamed again full brightly, when as this dance requires, he had led the way with her, the rest all following, through chamber and hall, kitchen and courtyard, doors and windows, nay, and even the stables. in the course of this dance each one seized some utensil or house-gear, as we do to this day; only never a broom, which would bring ill-luck. ursula had snatched up a spoon, and when the mad sport was ended and he had let go her hand, she rapped him with it smartly on the arm and cried: "you are still what you ever were, in the dance at least!" but my brother only said: "then will i try to become not the same, even in that." round the christmas tree and at the sharing of gifts which cousin maud made ready for christmas eve, we were all friendly and glad at heart, and ann found her way to join us after that she had put the little ones to bed. herdegen said she herself was the dearest gift for which he could thank the christ-child, and he had provided for her as a costly token the great petrarca's heroic poem of africa, in which he sings the deeds of the noble scipio, and likewise his smaller poems, all written in a fair hand. they made three neat books, and on the leathern cover, the binder, by herdegen's orders, had stamped the words, "anna-laura," in a wreath of full-blown roses. nor was she slow to understand their intent, and her heart was uplifted with such glad and hopeful joy that the christ-child for a certainty found no more blissful or thankful creature in all nuremberg that christmas eve. the manifold duties which filled up all her days left her but scant time wherein to work for him she loved; nevertheless she had wrought with her needle a letter pouch, whereon the schoppers' arms were embroidered in many colored silks, and the words 'agape' and 'pistis'--which are in greek love and faithfulness in greek letters with gold thread. cousin maud had dipped deep into her purse and likewise into her linen-press, and on the table under the christmas-tree lay many a thing fit for the bride-chest of a maid of good birth; and albeit ann could not but rejoice over these gifts for their own sake, she did so all the more gladly, inasmuch as she guessed that cousin maud was well-disposed to speed her marriage. we were all, indeed, glad and thankful; all save the magister, whose face was ill-content and sour by reason that he had culled many verses and maxims concerning love, for the most part from the greek and latin poets, and yet all his attempts to repeat them before ann came to nothing, inasmuch as she was again and again taken up with herdegen and with me, after she had once shaken hands with him and given him her greetings. at supper he was as dumb as the carp which were served, and it befell that for the first time herdegen took his seat between him and his heart's beloved; and verily i was grieved for him when, after supper, he withdrew downcast to his own chamber. the rest of us went forth to saint sebald's church, where that night there would be midnight matins, as there was every year, and a mass called the christ mass. cousin maud and kunz were with us, as in the old happy days when we were children and when we never missed; and in the streets as we went, we met all manner of folks singing gladly: puer natus in bethlehem, sing, rejoice, jerusalem! or the carol: congaudeat turba fadelium! natus est rex, salvator omnium in bethlehem. and we joined in; and at last all went together to see ann to her home. next evening there were more costly gifts, but albeit puer natus was still to be heard in the streets, we no longer were moved to join in. chapter xii. every christmas all my grand-uncle's kith and kin, or so many of them as were on good terms with him, assembled in the great house of the im hoffs. everything in that dwelling spoke of ease and wealth, and no banqueting-hall could be more brightly lighted or more richly decked than that where the old man welcomed us on the threshold; and yet, how well soever the hearth was piled or the stove heated, a chill breath seemed to blow there. while great and small were rejoicing over the grand old knight's bounty he himself would ever stand apart, and his calm, hueless countenance expressed no change. meseemed he cared but little for the pleasure he gave us all; yet was he not idle in the matter, nor left it to others; for there was no single gift which he had not himself chosen as befitting him to whom it should be given. the trade of his great house was for the most part with venice, and it would have been easy to fancy oneself in some fine palazzo on the grand canal as one marked the carpets, the mirrors, the brocade, and the vessels in his house; and not a few of his tokens had likewise been brought from thence. before this largesse in his own house he was wont to bestow another, and a very noble one, on the old men and women of the poor folks in the town; and when this was over he went with them to the church of saint aegidius, and washed the feet of about a score of them, which act of penitential humility he was wont to repeat in passion week. then when he had welcomed his kin, each one to his house, he would say to such as thanked him, if it were a child, very soberly: "be a good child." but for elder folks he had no more than "it is well," or an almost churlish: "that is enough." this evening he had given me a gown of costly brocade of cyprus; to kunz everything that a junker might need on his travels; and to herdegen the same sword which he himself had in past time worn at court; the hilt was set with gems and ended in the lion rampant, couped, of the im hoffs. ursula tetzel, like me, had had a gown-piece which was lying near by the sword. herdegen, holding the jewelled weapon in his hand, thanked his granduncle, who muttered as was his wont "'tis well, 'tis well," when jost tetzel put in his word, saying that the gift of a sword was supposed to part friends, but that this ill-effect might be hindered if he who received it made a return-offering to the giver, and so the token was made into a purchase. at this herdegen hastened to take out a gold pin set with sapphire stones, which cousin maud had given him, from his neck-kerchief, to offer it to his uncle; but the elder would have nothing to say to such foolishness, and pushed the pin away. but then when my brother did not cease, but besought him to accept it, inasmuch as he cared so greatly for his uncle's fatherly kindness, the old knight cried that he wanted no such sparkling finery, but that the day might come when he should require some payment and that herdegen was then to remember that he was in his debt. at this minute they were hindered from further speech by the servants, who came in to bid us to supper, and there stood ready wild fowl and fish, fruits and pastry, with the rarest wines and the richest vessels; the great middle table and the side buffet alike made such a show as though pomona, ceres, bacchus, and plutus had heaped it with prodigal hand. yet was there no provision for merry-making. my grand-uncle loved to be quit of his guests at an early hour; hence no table was laid for them to sit down to meat, and each one held his plate in one hand. presently, as i strove to get free of young master vorchtel who had served me--and by the same token made love to me--i found my cousin in speech with my grand-uncle, and the last words of his urgent discourse, spoken as i came up with them, were that a woman of sound understanding, as she commonly seemed, should no longer suffer such a state of things. then cousin maud answered him, saying: "but you, my noble and worshipful cousin im hoff, know how that a schopper is ever ready to run his head against a wall. if we strive to thwart this hot-headed boy, he will of a certainty defy us; but if we leave him for a while to go his own way, the waters will not be dammed up, but will run to waste in the sand." this was evil hearing, and much as it vexed me ursula chafed me even more, whereas she made a feint of caring for none of the company present excepting only sir franz--who was yet her housemate--and being still pale and weak needed a friendly woman's hand for many little services, inasmuch as even now he could scarce use his right arm. nay, and he seemed to like ursula well enough as his helper; albeit he owed all her sweet care and loving glances to herdegen, for she never bestowed them but when he chanced to look that way. when we all took leave my grand-uncle bid herdegen stay, and kunz waited on us; but notwithstanding all his merry quips as we went home, not once could we be moved to laughter. my heart was indeed right heavy; a bitter drop had fallen into it by reason of cousin maud. i had ever deemed her incapable of anything but what was truest and best, and she had proved herself a double-dealer; and young as i was, and rejoicing in life, i said, nevertheless, in my soul's dejection, that if life was such that every poor human soul must be ever armed with doubt, saying, "whom shall i trust or doubt?" then it was indeed a hard and painful journey to win through. i slept in my cousin's room, and albeit cousin maud wist not that i had overheard her counsel given to my grand-uncle, she kept out of my way that night, and we neither of us spoke till we said good-night. then could i no longer refrain myself, and asked whether it were verily and indeed her intent to part herdegen from ann. and her ill-favored countenance grew strangely puckered and her bosom heaved till suddenly she cried beside herself: "cruel! unhappy! oh! it will eat my heart out!" and she sobbed aloud, while i did the same, crying: "but you love them both?" "that i do, and that is the very matter," she broke in sadly enough. "herdegen, and ann! why, i know not which i hold the dearer. but find me a wiser man in all nuremberg than your grand-uncle. but verily, merciful virgin, i know not what i would be at--i know not....!" on this i forgot the respect due to her and put in: "you know not?" and whereas she made no reply, i railed at her, saying: "and yet you gave her the linen, and half the matters for her house-gear as a christmas gift, as though they were known for a bride and groom to all the town. as old as you are and as wise, can you take pleasure in a love-match and even speed it forward as you have done, and yet purpose in your soul to hinder it at last? and is this the truth and honesty whereof early and late you have ever taught me? is this being upright and faithful, or not rather speaking with two tongues?" my fiery blood had again played me an evil trick, and i repented me when i perceived what great grief my violent speech had wrought in the dear soul. never had i beheld her so feeble and doubting, and in a minute i was in her arms and a third person might have marvelled to hear us each craving pardon, she for her faint-hearted fears, and i for my unseemly outbreak. but in that hour i became her friend, and ceased to be no more than her child and fondling. herdegen was to be ready to set forth before passion week; but ere he quitted home he made all the city ring with his praises, for, whereas he had hitherto won fame in the school of arms only, by the strength and skill of his arm, he now outdid every other in the procession of masks. albeit this custom is still kept up to this very day, yet many an one may have forgotten how it first had its rise, although in my young days it was well known to most folks. this then is to record, that in the days when the guilds were in revolt against the city council, the cutlers and the fleshers alone remained true to the noble families, and whereas they refused to take any guerdon for their faithfulness, which must have been paid them at the cost of the rest, they craved no more than the right of a making a goodly show in a dance and procession at the carnival; and they were by the same token privileged at that time to wear apparel of velvet and silk, like gentle folks of noble and knightly degree. now this dance and its appurtenances were known at the masked show, and inasmuch as the aid of the governing class was needed to keep the streets clear for the throng of craftsmen, and as likewise the yearly outlay was beyond their means, the sons of the great houses took a pride in paying goodly sums for the right of taking a place in the procession. and as for our high-spirited young lord, skilled as he was with his weapon, he had seen and taken part in many such gay carnival doings among the italians, and it was a delight to him to join in the like sport at home, and many were fain to gaze at him rather than at the guilds. they assembled under the walls in two bands, and marched past the town hall and from thence to a dance of both guilds. each had a dance of its own. the fleshers' was such a dance as in england is called a country dance and they held leather-straps twisted to look like sausages; the cutlers' dance was less clumsy, and they carried naked swords. but the show which most delighted the bystanders was the procession of masks, wherein, indeed, there were many things pleasant and fair to behold. a party of men in coarse raiment called the men of the woods, carrying sheaves of oak boughs with acorns, and a number of mummers in fools' garb, wielding wooden bats, cleared the way for the procession; first then came minstrels, with drums and pipes and trumpets and bag-pipes, and merry bells ringing out withal. next came one on horseback with nuts, which he flung down among the children, whereat there was merry scuffling and screaming on the ground. from the windows likewise and balconies there was no end of the laughter and cries; the young squires gave the maids and ladies who sat there no peace for the flowers and sweetmeats they cast up at them, and eggs filled with rose-water. this year, whereof i write, many folks in the procession wore garments of the same color and shape; but among them there were some who loved a jest, and were clothed as wild men and women, or as black-amoors, ogres that eat children, ostrich-birds, and the like. last of all came the chief glory of the show, various great buildings and devices drawn by horses: a ship of fools, and behind that a wind-mill, and a fowler's decoy wherein fools, men and women both, were caught, and other such pastimes. my herdegen had mingled with this wondrous fellowship arrayed as a knight crusader leading three captive saracen princes; namely, the two young masters loffelholz and schlebitzer, who had stirred him to dress in the fencing-school, mounted on horses, and between them my squire akusch on the bear-leader's camel, all in white as a son of the desert; and the three of them fettered with chains made of wood. my grand-uncle had lent herdegen the suit of mail he himself had worn in his youth at a tournament; cousin maud had provided his white cloak with a red cross, and as he rode forth on a noble black steed in mail-harness with scarlet housings--the finest and stoutest horse in the im hoffs' stables-and his golden hair shining in the sun, many a maid could not take her eyes off from him. kunz, in the garb of a fool, hither and thither, nay, and everywhere at once, doubtless had the better sport; but herdegen's heart beat the higher, for he could hear a thousand voices proclaiming him the most comely and his troop the most princely of all; from many a window a flower was shed on him, or a ribband, or a knot. at last, when the dance was all over, the guilds with the town-pipers betook them to the head constable's quarters, where they were served with drink and ate the shrove-tuesday meal of fish which was given in their honor. when the procession was past and gone my grand-uncle bid herdegen go to him, and that which the old man then said and did to move him to give up his love was shrewdly planned and not without effect on his mind. after looking at him from head to foot, saying nothing but with no small contentment, he clapped him kindly on the shoulder and led him, as though by chance, up to the venice mirror in the dining-hall. then pointing to the image before him: "a tancred!" he cried, "a godfrey! richard of the lionheart! and the bride a miserable scrivener's wench!--a noble bride!" thereupon herdegen fired up and began to speak in praise of ann's rare and choice beauty; but his guardian stopped him short, laid his arm round his shoulders, and muttered in his ear that in his young days likewise youths of noble birth had to be sure made love to the fair daughters of the common citizens, but the man who could have thought of courting one of them in good faith.... here he broke off with a sharp laugh, and drawing the boy closer to him, cried: "no harm is meant my tancred! and you may keep the black horse in remembrance of this hour." it was old berthold, my uncle's body-servant who told me all this; herdegen when he came home answered none of my questions. he would not grant my prayer that he should show himself to ann in his knight's harness, and said somewhat roughly that she loved not such mummery. thus it was not hard to guess what was in his mind; but how came it to pass that this old man, whose princely wife had wrought ruin to his peace and happiness, could so diligently labor to lead him he best loved on earth into the like evil course? and among many matters of which i lacked understanding there was yet this one: wherefore should eppelein, who so devoutly loved his master, and who knew right well how to value a young maid's beauty--and why should my good susan and the greater part of our servitors have turned so spitefully against ann, to whom in past days they were ever courteous and serviceable, since they had scented a betrothal between her and my eldest brother? from the first i had been but ill-pleased to see herdegen so diligent over this idle sport and spending so many hours away from his sweetheart, when he was so soon to quit us all. nevertheless i had not the heart to admonish him, all the more as in many a dull hour he was apt to believe that, for the sake of his love, he must need deny himself sundry pleasures which our father had been free to enjoy; and i weened that i knew whence arose this faint-heartedness which was so little akin to his wonted high spirit. looking backward, a little before this time, i note first that ann had not been able to keep her love-matters a secret from her mother. albeit the still young and comely widow had solemnly pledged herself to utter no word of the matter, like most italian women--and may be many a nuremberger--she could not refrain herself from telling that of which her heart and brain were full, deeming it great good fortune for her child and her whole family; and she had shared the secret with all her nearest friends. eight days before shrove tuesday cousin maud and we three schoppers had been bidden to spend the evening in the house by the river, and dame giovanna, kind-hearted as ever, but not far-seeing, had likewise bidden her father-in-law, the lute-player, and adam heyden from the tower, and ann's one and only aunt, the widow of rudel hennelein. this hennelein had been the town bee-master, the chief of the beekeepers, who, then as now, had their business out in the lorenzer-wald. his duties had been to hold an assize for the bee-keepers three times in the year at a village called feucht, and to lend an ear to their complaints; and albeit he had fulfilled his office without blame, he had dwelt in strife with his wife, and being given to rioting, he was wont rather to go to the tavern than sit at table with his cross-grained wife. when he presently died there was but small leaving, and the widow in the little house in the milk market had need to look twice at every farthing, although she had not chick nor child. and whereas full half of the offerings sent by the bee-keepers to help out their master's widow were in honey, she strove to turn this to the best account, and to this end she would by no means sell it to the dealers who would offer to take it, but carried it herself in neat little crocks, one at a time, to the houses of the rich folks, whereby her gains were much the greater. whereas her husband had been a member of the worshipful class of magistrates, she deemed that such trading ill-beseemed her dignity; and she at all times wore a great fur hat as large round as a cart-wheel of fair size, and all the other array of a well-to-do housewife, though in truth somewhat threadbare. then she would offer her honey as a gift to the mothers of children for their dear little ones; nor could she ever be moved to name a price for her gift, inasmuch as it was not fitting that a bee-master's widow should do so, while it was all to her honor when a little bounty was offered as civil return. her honey was good enough, and the children were ever glad to see her: all the more so for that they had their sport of her behind her back, inasmuch as that she was a laughable little body, who had a trick of repeating the last word of every sentence she spoke. thus she would say not: "ah! here comes kunz," but, "here comes kunz kunz." moreover, she ever held her head between her two hands, tightly, as though with that great fur cap her thin neck were in danger of breaking. in this way she had dealings with most of our noble families; and the young ones would call her not hennelein, as her name was, but henneleinlein, in jest at her foolish trick of repeating her last word. so long as i could remember, mistress henneleinlein had been wont to bring honey to our house, and had received from cousin maud, besides many a bright coin, likewise sundry worn but serviceable garments as "remembrances." and herdegen foremost of us all had been ready to make sport of her; but it had come to his knowledge that she was ever benign to lovers, and had helped many a couple to come together. the glad tidings that her niece was chosen by fate to rule over the house of the schoppers had filled her above all others with pride and contentment, and dame giovanna having told her this secret and then bidden her to meet us, she stuck so closely to herdegen that ann was filled with vexation and fears. i could not but mark that my brother was sorely ill-pleased when dame henneleinlein patted his arm; and when she kissed his sweetheart on the lips he shrank as though someone had laid afoul hand on his light-hued velvet doublet. he had always felt a warm friendship for the worthy lute-player, who was a master in his own art; yea, and many a time had he right gladly mounted the tower-stairs to see the old organist; but now, to be treated as a youngster of their own kith by these two good men filled him with loathing; for it may well be that many an one whom we are well pleased to seek and truly value in his own home and amid his own company, seems another man when he makes claim to live with us as one of ourselves. cousin maud had not chosen to accept dame giovanna's bidding, perchance for my grand-uncle's sake; she thus escaped the vexation of seeing herdegen, on this first night spent with his future kindred, so silent and moody that he was scarce like himself. he turned pale and bit his nether lip, as he never did but when he was mastering his temper with great pains, when mistress henneleinlein who had hitherto known him only as a roystering young blade and now interpreted his reserve and silence after her own fashion noted mysteriously that the junker would have to take a large family with his young bride--though, indeed, there was a hope that the burden might ere long be lighter. for she went on to say, with a leer at mistress giovanna, that so comely a step-mother would have suitors in plenty, and she herself had one in her eye, if he were but brought to the point, who would provide abundantly not only for the mother but for all the brood of little ones. this and much more did he himself repeat to me as we walked home, speaking with deep ire and in tones of wrath; and what else dame henneleinlein had poured into his ear was to me not so much unpleasing as a cause of well-grounded fears, inasmuch as the old body had told him that the man who was fain to pay his court to mistress giovanna was none other than the coppersmith, ulman pernhart, the father of the fair maid for whose sake aunt jacoba had banished her only son. in vain did i in all honesty speak the praises of the coppersmith; herdegen turned a deaf ear, even as my uncle and aunt had done. the thought that his wife should ever be required to honor this handicraftsman, if only as a step-father, and that he should hear himself addressed by him as "son," was too shrewd a thrust. the next morning the junkers had carried him off to the school of arms and then to the gentlemen's tavern to take his part in the masquerade; and when, at a later hour, after the throng had scattered, ann came to our house, her lover was not at home: he had gone off again to the revels at the tavern where he would meet such workingmen as his sweetheart's future step-father. at the same time, as it fell, brother ignatius, of the order of grey friars, had come many times to hold forth at our house, by desire of my grand-uncle whose almoner he was, and when herdegen announced to us on ash wednesday that the holy man had craved to be allowed to travel in his company as far as ingolstadt, i foresaw no good issue; for albeit the father was a right reverend priest, whose lively talk had many a time given me pleasure, it must for certain be his intent to speed my uncle's wishes. in spite of all, herdegen was in such deep grief at departing that i put away all doubts and fears. ann, who felt in all matters as he felt and put her whole trust in him, was wise enough to know that he could have no bond with her kith and kin; nay, that it must be hard on him to have to call such a woman as mistress henneleinlein his aunt. also he and she had agreed that hereafter he should dwell no more at nuremberg, but seek some office and duty in the imperial service; and sir franz had been diligent in asking his uncle's good word, he being one of those highest in power at the emperor's court. now, when a short time before his departing they were alone with me, ann, bearing in mind this pact they had made, cried out: "you promise me we shall build our nest in some place far from hence; and be it where it may, wherever we may be left to ourselves and have but each other, a happy life must await us." at this his eyes flashed, and he cried with a lad's bold spirit: "with a doctor's hood, at the emperor's court, i shall ere long be councillor, and at last, god willing, chancellor of the realm!" after this they spoke yet many loving and touching words, and when he was already in the saddle and waved her a last farewell, tears flowed from his eyes-i saw them for certain.--and at that moment i besought the lord that he would rather chastise and try me with pain and grief, but bring these two together and let their marriage be crowned by the highest bliss ever vouchsafed to human hearts. chapter xiii. spring was past, and again the summer led me and ann back into the green wood. aunt jacoba's sickness was no whit amended, and the banishment of her only and comely son gnawed at her heart; but the more she needed tending and cheering the more ann could do for her and the dearer she became to the heart of the sick woman. kunz was ever in venice. herdegen wrote right loving letters at first from padua, but then they came less often, and the last ann ever had to show me was a mere feint which pleased me ill indeed, inasmuch as, albeit it was full of big words, it was empty of tidings of his life or of his heart's desire. what all this must mean ann, with her clear sense and true love, could not fail to see; nevertheless she ceased not from building on her lover's truth; or, if she did not, she hid that from all the world, even from me. we came from the forest earlier than we were wont, on saint maurice's day, forasmuch as that ann could not be longer spared and, now more than ever, i could not bear to leave her alone. uncle christian rode to the town with us, and if he had before loved her well, in this last long time of our all being together he had taken her yet more into his heart. and now, whereas he had given her the right to warn him against taking too much wine, he was fain to call her his little watchman, by reason that it is the watchman's part to give warning of the enemy's onset. but while ann was so truly beloved at the forest lodge, on her return home she found no pleasant welcome. in her absence the coppersmith pernhart had wooed her mother in good earnest, and the eldest daughter not being on the spot, had sped so well that the widow had yielded. ann once made bold to beseech her mother with due reverence to give up her purpose, but she fell on her child's neck, as though ann were the mother, entreating her, with many tears, to let her have her will. ann of a certainty would not now be long under her roof to cherish the younger children, and it was not in her power as their mother to guide them in the way in which their father would have them to walk. for this ulman pernhart was the fittest man. her dead husband had been a schoolmate of her suitor's, and of his brother the very reverend lord bishop, and he had thought highly of master ulman. this it was gave her strength to follow the prompting of her heart. in this way did the mother try to move her child to look with favor on the desire of her fiery italian heart, now shame-faced and coaxing, and anon with tears in her eyes; and albeit the widow was past five and thirty and her suitor nigh upon fifty, yet no man seeing the pair together would have made sport of their love. the venice lady had lost so little of her youthful beauty and charms that it was in truth a marvel; and as to master pernhart, he was not a man to be overlooked, even among many. as he was at this time he might be taken for the very pattern of a stalwart and upright german mastercraftsman; nay, nor would a knight's harness of mail have ill-beseemed him. or ever he had thought of paying court to mistress giovanna i had heard the prebendary master von hellfeld speak of pernhart as a right good fellow, of whom the city might be proud; and he then spoke likewise of master ulman's brother, who had become a servant of the holy church, and while yet a young man had been raised to the dignity of a bishop. when the great schism had come to a happy ending, and one head, instead of three, ruled the church, pope martin v. had chosen him to sit in his council and kept him at rome, where he was one of the powers of the curia. albeit his good german name of pernhart was now changed to bernardi, he had not ceased to love his native town and his own kin, and had so largely added to the wealth and ease of his own mother and his only brother that the coppersmith had been able to build himself a dwelling little behind those of the noble citizens. he had been forlorn in his great house of late, but no such cause as that was needed to move him to cast his eye on the fair widow of his very reverend brother's best friend. while ann was away in the forest mistress giovanna had let pernhart into the secret of her daughter's betrothal to herdegen, and so soon as the young maid was at home again he had spoken to her of the matter, telling her, in few but hearty words, that she would be ever welcome to his house and there fill the place of his lost gertrude; but that if she was fain to wed an honest man, he would make it his business to provide her outfit. these things, and much more, inclined me in his favor, little as i desired that he should wed the widow, for herdegen's sake; and when i met him for the first time as betrothed to ann's mother, and the grandlooking man shook my hand with hearty kindness, and then thanked me with warmth and simplicity for whatsoever i had done for her who henceforth would be his dearest and most precious treasure, i returned the warm grasp of his hand with all honesty, and it was from the bottom of my heart that i answered him, saying that i gladly hailed him as a new friend, albeit i could not hope for the same from my brother. he heard this with a strange smile, half mournful, but, meseemed, half proud; then he held forth his horny, hard-worked hand, and said that to be sure it was an ill-matched pair when such a hand as that should clasp a soft and white one such as might come out of a velvet sleeve; that whereas, in order to win the woman he loved, he had taken her tribe of children into the bargain, and fully purposed to have much joy of them and be a true father to them, my lord brother, if his love were no less true, must make the best of his father-in-law, whose honor, though he was but of simple birth, was as clean as ever another man's in the eyes of god. and as we talked i found there was more and nobler matter in his brain and heart than i had ever weened i might find in a craftsman. we met often and learned to know each other well, and one day it fell that i asked him whether he had in truth forgiven the junker through whom he had lost the one he loved best. he forthwith replied that i was not to lay the blame on one whom he would ever remember as a brave and true-hearted youth, inasmuch as it was not my cousin, but he himself who had put an end to the love-making between gotz and gertrude. it was after the breach between gotz and his parents that it had been most hard to turn a deaf ear to the prayers of the devoted lover and of his own child. but, through all, he had borne in mind the doctrine by which his father had ever ruled his going, namely, not to bring on our neighbor such grief as would make our own heart sore. therefore he examined himself as to what he would feel towards one who should make his child to wed against his will with a suitor he liked not; and whereas his own dignity as a man and his care for his daughter's welfare forbade that he should give her in marriage to a youth whose kinsfolks would receive her with scorn and ill-feeling, rather than with love and kindness, he had at last set his heart hard against young waldstromer, whom he had loved as his own son, and forced him to go far away from his sweetheart. i, in my heart, was strangely wroth with my cousin in that he had not staked his all to win so fair a maid; nay, and i made so bold as to confess that in gertrude's place i should have gone after my lover whithersoever he would, even against my father's will. and again that proud smile came upon ulman pernhart's bearded lips, and his eye flashed fire as he said: "my life moves in a narrow round, but all that dwell therein bend to my will as the copper bends under my hammer. if you think that the junker gave in without a struggle you are greatly mistaken; after i had forbidden him the house, he had tempted gertrude to turn against me and was ready to carry her off; nay, and would you believe it, my own mother sided with the young ones. the priest even was in readiness to marry them privily, and they would have won the day in spite of me. but the eyes of jealousy are ever the sharpest; my head apprentice, who was madly in love with the maid, betrayed the plot, and then, mistress margery, were things said and done --things concerning which i had best hold my peace. and if you crave to know them, you may ask my mother. you will see some day, if you do not scorn to enter my house and if you gain her friendship--and i doubt not that you will, albeit it is not granted to every one--she will be glad enough to complain of my dealings in this matter--mine, her own son's, although on other points she is wont to praise my virtues over-loudly." this discourse raised my cousin once more to his old place in my opinion, and i knew now that the honest glance of his blue eyes, which doubtless had won fair gertrude's heart, was trustworthy and true. master ulman pernhart was married in a right sober fashion to fair mistress giovanna, and i remember to this day seeing them wed in saint laurence's church. it was a few months before this that i was taken for the first time to a dance at the town hall. there, as soon as i had forgotten my first little fears, i took my pleasure right gladly to the sound of the music, and i verily delighted in the dance. but albeit i found no lack of young ladies my friends, and still less of youths who would fain win my favor, i nevertheless lost not the feeling that i had left part of my very being at home; nay, that i scarce had a right to these joys, since my brothers were in a distant land and ann could not share them with me, and while i was taking my pleasure she had the heartache. then was there a second dance, and a third and fourth; and at home there came a whole troop of young men in their best apparel to ask of cousin maud, each after his own fashion, to be allowed to pay court to me; but albeit they were all of good family, and to many a one i felt no dislike, i felt nothing at all like love as i imagined it, and i would have nothing to say to any one of them. and all this i took with a light heart, for which cousin maud many a time,--and most rightly--reproved me. but at that time, and yet more as the months went on, i hardly knew my own mind; another fate than my own weighed most on my soul; and i thought so little of my own value that meseemed it could add to no man's happiness to call me his. all else in life passed before my eyes like a shadow; a time came when all joy was gone from me, and my suitors sought me in vain in the dancing-hall, for a great and heavy grief befell me. all was at an end--even now i scarce can bear to write the words--between ann and herdegen; and by no fault of hers, but only and wholly by reason of his great and unpardonable sin. but i will write down in order how it came about. so early as at martinmas i heard from cousin maud--and my grand-uncle had told her--that herdegen had quitted padua and that it was his intent to take the degree of doctor at paris whither the famous gerson's great genius was drawing the studious youth of all lands; and his reason for this was that a bloody fray had made the soil of italy too hot for his feet. "these tidings boded evil; all the more as neither we nor ann had a word from herdegen in his own hand to tell us that he had quitted the country and his school. then, in my fear and grief, i could not help going to my grand-uncle, but he would have nothing to say to me or to cousin maud, or else he put us off with impatient answers, or empty words that meant nothing. thus we lived in dread and sorrow, till at last, a few days before pernhart was married, a letter came to me from eppelein, and i have it before me now, among other papers all gone yellow. "from your most duteous and obedient servant eppelein gockel to the lady margery schopper," was the superscription. and he went on to excuse himself in that he knew not the art of writing, and had requested the service of the magister of the young count von solms. "and inasmuch as i erewhile pledged my word as a, man to the illustrious and worshipful mistress margery, in her sisterly care, that i would write to her if we at any time needed the favor of her counsel and help, i would ere now have craved for the magister's aid if the all-merciful virgin had not succored us in due season. "nevertheless my heart was moved to write to you, gracious and worshipful mistress margery, inasmuch as i wist you would be in sorrow, and longing for tidings of my gracious master; for it is by this time long since i gave his last letter for the schopperhof in charge to the german postrunner; and meseems that my gracious master has liked to give his precious time to study and to other pastimes rather than to those who, being his next of kin, are ever ready and willing to be patient with him; as indeed they could if they pleased enquire of my lord the knight sebald im hoff as to his well-being. my gracious master gave him to know by long letters how matters were speeding with him, and of a certainty told him how that the old marchese and his nephews, malicious knaves, came to blows with us at padua by reason of the old marchese's young and fair lady, who held my gracious master so dear that all padua talked thereof. "nevertheless it was an evil business, inasmuch as three of them fell on us in the darkness of night; and if the merciful saints had not protected us with their special grace nobler and more honorable blood should have been shed than those rogues. also we came to paris in good heart; and safe and sound in body; and this is a city wherein life is far more ravishing than in nuremberg. "whereas i have known full well that you, most illustrious mistress margery, have ever vouchsafed your gracious friendship to mistress ann spiesz--and indeed i myself hold her in the highest respect, as a lady rich in all virtue--i would beseech her to put away from her heart all thought of my gracious master as soon as may be, and to strive no more to keep his troth, forasmuch as it can do no good: better had she look for some other suitor who is more honest in his intent, that so she may not wholly waste her maiden days--which sweet saint katharine forbid! yet, most worshipful mistress margery, i entreat you with due submission not to take this amiss in your beloved brother, nor to withdraw from him any share of your precious love, whereas my gracious master may rightly look higher for his future wife. and as touching his doings now in his unmarried state, of us the saying is true: like master, like man. and whereas i, who am but a poor and simple serving man, have never been fain to set my heart on one only maid, no less is to be looked for in my gracious master, who is rich and of noble birth." this epistle would of a certainty have moved me to laughter at any other time but, as things stood, the matter and manner of the low varlet's letter in daring to write thus of ann, roused me to fury. and yet he was a brave fellow, and of rare faithfulness to his master; for when the marchese's nephew had fallen upon herdegen, he had wrenched the sword out of the young nobleman's hand at the peril of his own life and had thereafter modestly held his peace as to that brave deed. it was, in truth, hard not to betray the coming of this letter, even by a look; yet did i hide it; but when another letter was brought, not long after, all care and secrecy were vain. oh! that dreadful letter. i could not hide the matter of it; but i let pass her mother's wedding before i confessed to ann what my brother had written to me. that cruel letter lies before me now. it is longer than any he had written me heretofore, and i will here write it fair, for indeed i could not, an i would, copy the writing, so wild and reckless as it is. "all must be at an end, margery, betwixt ann and me"--and those first words stung me like a whip-lash. "there. 'tis written, and now you know it. i was never worthy of her, for i have sold my heart's love for money, as judas sold the lord. "not that my love or longing are dead. even while i write i feel dragged to her; a thousand voices cry to me that there is but one ann, and when a few weeks ago the young sieur de blonay made so bold as to vaunt of his lady and her rose-red as above all other ladies and colors, my sword compelled him to yield the place of honor to blue--for whose sake you know well. "and nevertheless i must give her up. although i fled from temptation, it pursued me, and when it fell upon me, after a short battle i was brought low. the craving for those joys of the world which she tried to teach me to scorn, is strong within me. i was born to sin; and now as matters stand they must remain. a wight such as i am, who shoots through life like a wild hawk, cannot pause nor think until a shaft has broken his wings. the bitter fate which bids me part from ann has stricken me thus, and now i can only look back and into my own soul; and the fairer, the sweeter, the loftier is she whom i have lost, the darker and more vile, meseemeth, is all i discover in myself. "yet, or ever i cast behind me all that was pure and noble, righteous and truly blissful, i hold up the mirror to my own sinful face, and will bring, myself to show to you, my margery, the hideous countenance i behold therein. "i will not cloke nor spare myself in anything; and yet, at this hour, which finds me sober and at home, having quitted my fellows betimes this night, i verily believe that i might have done well, and not ill, and what was pleasing in the sight of god, and in yours, my margery, and in the eyes of ann and of all righteous folk, if only some other hand had had the steering of my life's bark. "margery, we are orphans; and there is nothing a man needs so much, in the years while he is still unripe and unsure of himself, as a master whom he must revere in fear or in love. and we--i--margery, what was my grand-uncle to me? "you and i again are of one blood and so near in age that, albeit one may counsel the other, it is scarce to be hoped that i should take your judgment, or you mine, without cavil. "then cousin maud! with all the mother's love she has ever shown us, all i did was right in her eyes; and herein doubtless lies the difference between a true mother, who brought us with travail into the world, and a loving foster-mother, who fears to turn our hearts from her by harshness; but the true mother punishes her children wherein she deems it good, inasmuch as she is sure of their love. my cousin's love was great indeed, but her strictness towards me was too small. out of sheer love, when i went to the high school she kept my purse filled; then, as i grew older, our uncle did likewise, though for other reasons; and now that i have redenied ann, to do his pleasure, i loathe myself. nay, more and more since i am raised to such fortune as thousands may envy me; inasmuch as my granduncle purposes to make me his heir by form of law. last night, when i came home with great gains from play in my pocket, i was nigh to put an end to the woes of this life.... "but have no fear, margery. a light heart soon will bring to the top again what ruth, at this hour, is bearing to the deeps. of what use is waiting? am i then the first junker who has made love to a sweet maid of low birth, only to forget her for a new lady love? "sooth to say, margery, my confessor, to whom--albeit with bitter pains-i am laying open every fold of my heart--yes, margery, if ann's cradle had been graced with a coat of arms matters would be otherwise. but to call a copper-smith father-in-law, and little henneleinlein madame aunt! in church, to nod from the old seats of the schoppers to all those common folk as my nearest kin, to meet the lute-player among my own people, teaching the lads and maids their music, and to greet him as dear grandfather, to see my brethren and sisters-in-law busy in the clerks' chambers or work-shops--all this i say is bitter to the taste; and yet more when the tempter on the other side shows the gaudy young gentleman the very joys dearest to his courtly spirit. and with what eloquence and good cheer has father ignatius set all this before mine eyes here in paris, doubtless with honest intent; and he spoke to my heart soberly and to edification, setting forth all that the precepts of the lord, and my old and noble family required of me. "much less than all this would have overruled so feeble a wight as i am. i promised father ignatius to give up ann, and, on my home-coming, to submit in all things to my uncle and to agree with him as to what each should yield up and renounce to the other--as though it were a matter of merchandise in spices from the levant, or silk kerchiefs from florence; and thereupon the holy friar gave me his benediction, as though my salvation were henceforth sure in this world and the next. "i rode forth with him even to the gate, firm in the belief that i had thrown the winning number in life's game; but scarce had i turned my horse homeward when i wist that i had cast from me all the peace and joy of my soul. "it is done. i have denied ann--given her up forever--and whereas she must one day hear it, be it done at once. you, my poor margery, i make my messenger. i have tried, in truth, to write to ann, but it would not do. one thing you must say, and that is that, even when i have sinned most against her, i have never forgotten her; nay, that the memory of that happy time when she was fain to call herself my laura moved me to ride forth to treviso, where, in the chapel of the franciscan brethren, there may be seen a head of the true laura done by the limner simone di martino, the friend of petrarca, a right worthy work of art. methought she drew me to her with voice and becks. and yet, and yet--woe, woe is me! "my pen has had a long rest, for meseemed i saw first petrarca's lady with her fair braids, and then ann with her black hair, which shone with such lustrous, soft waves, and lay so nobly on the snow-white brow. her eyes and mien are verily those of laura; both alike pure and lofty. but here my full heart over-flows; it cannot forget how far ann exceeds laura in sweet woman's grace. "day is breaking, and i can but sigh forth to the morning: 'lost, lost! i have lost the fairest and the best!' "then i sat long, sunk in thought, looking out of window, across the bare tree-tops in the garden, at the grey mist which seems as though it ended only at the edge of the world. it drips from the leafless boughs, and mine eyes--i need not hide it--will not be kept dry. it is as though the leaves from the tree of my life had all dropped on the ground--nay, as though my own guilty hand had torn them from the stem." "i have but now come home from a right merry company! it is of a truth a merciful fashion which turns night into day. yes, margery, for one whose first desire is to forget many matters, this paris is a place of delight. i have drunk deep of the wine-cup, but i would call any man villain who should say that i am drunk. can i not write as well as ever another--and this i know, that if i sold myself it was not cheap. it has cost me my love, and whereas it was great the void is great to fill. wherefore i say: 'bring hither all that giveth joy, wine and love-making, torches and the giddy dame in velvet and silk, dice and gaming, and mad rides, the fresh greenwood and bloody frays!' is this nothing? is it even a trivial thing? "how, when all is said and done, shall we answer the question as to which is the better lot: heavenly love, soaring on white swan's wings far above all that is common dust, as ann was wont to sing of it, or earthly joys, bold and free, which we can know only with both feet on the clod? "i have made choice and can never turn back. long life to every pleasure, call it by what name you will! you have a gleeful, rich, and magnificent brother, little margery; and albeit the simple lad of old, who chose to wife the daughter of a poor clerk, may have been dearer to you--as he was to my own heart--yet love him still! of his love you are ever sure; remember him in your prayers; and as for that you have to say to ann, say it in such wise that she shall not take it over much to heart. show her how unworthy of her is this brother of yours, though in your secret soul you shall know that my guardian saint never had, nor ever shall have, any other face than hers. "now will i hasten to seal this letter and wake eppelein that he may give it to the post-rider. i am weary of tearing up many sheets of paper, but if i were to read through in all soberness that i have written half drunk, this letter would of a certainty go the way of many others written by me to you, and to my beloved, faithful, only love, my lost ann." chapter xiv. master pernhart was wed on tuesday after palm sunday. ann was wont to come to our house early on wednesday morning, and this was ever a happy meeting to which we gave the name of "the italian spinning-hour," by reason that one of us would turn her wheel and draw out the yarn, while the other read aloud from the works of the great italian poets. nor did ann fail to come on this wednesday after the wedding; but i had thrust herdegen's letter into the bosom of my bodice and awaited her with a quaking heart. her spirit was heavy; i could see in her eyes that they had shed tears, and at my first question they filled again. had she not seen her mother this morn beaming with happiness, and then remembered, with new pangs of heartache, the father she had lost scarce a year ago and whose image seemed to have faded out of the mind of the wife he had so truly loved. when i said to her that i well understood her sorrow, but that i had other matter to lay before her which might bring her yet more cruel grief, she knew that it must be as touching herdegen; and whereas before i spoke i could only clasp her to me and could not bring out a single word, she thrust me from her and cried: "herdegen? speak! some ill has come upon him! margery--merciful virgin! how you are sobbing!--dead--is he dead?" as she said these words her cheeks turned pale and, when i shook my head, she seized my hand and asked sadly: "worse? then he has broken faith once more?" meseemed i could never speak again; and yet i might not keep silence, and the words broke from my bursting heart: "ah, worse and far worse; more strange, more terrible! i have it here, in his hand.--henceforth--my uncle, his rich inheritance.... all is over, ann, betwixt him and you. and i--oh, that he should have left it to me to tell it!" she stood in front of me as if rooted to the ground, and it was some time before she could find a word. then she said in a dull voice: "where is the letter?" i snatched it out of the bosom of my dress and was about to rend it as i went towards the hearth, but she stood in my way, snatched the letter violently from me, and cried: "then if all is at an end, i will at any rate be clear about it. no false comfort, no cloaking of the truth!" and she strove to wrench herdegen's letter from me. but my strength was greater than hers, indeed full great for a maid; yet my heart told me that in her case my will would have been the same, so i made no more resistance but yielded up the letter. then and there she read it; and although she was pale as death and i marked how her lips trembled and every nerve in her body, her eyes were dry, and when she presently folded the letter and held it forth to me, she said with light scorn which cut in--to the heart: "this then is what matters have come to! he has sold his love and his sweetheart! only her face, it would seem, is not in the bargain by reason that he keeps that to rob his saint of her holiness! well, he is free, and the wild joys of life in every form are to make up for love; and yet--and yet, margery, pray that he may not end miserably!" gentle pity had sounded in these last words, and i took her hand and besought her right earnestly: "and you, ann. do you pray with me." but she shook her head and replied: "nay, margery; all is at an end between him and me, even thoughts and yearning. i know him no more--and now let me go." with this she put on her little cloak, and was by the door already when cousin maud came in with some sweetmeats, as she was ever wont to do when we thus sat spinning; and as soon as she had set down that which she was carrying she opened her arms to the outcast maid, to clasp her to her bosom and comfort her with good words; but ann only took her hand, pressed it to her lips, and vanished down the stairs. at dinner that morning the dishes would have been carried out as full as they were brought in, if master peter had not done his best to hinder it; and as soon as the meal was over i could no longer bear myself in the house, but went off straight to the pernharts'. there the air seemed warmer and lighter, and mistress giovanna welcomed me to her new home right gladly; but she would not suffer me to go to ann's chamber, forasmuch as that she had a terrible headache and had prayed to see no one, not even me. yet i felt strongly drawn to her, and as the new-made wife knew that she and i were as one she did not forbid me from going upstairs, where pernhart had made dead gertrude's room all clean and fresh for ann. now whereas i knew that when her head ached every noise gave her pain, i mounted the steps with great care and opened the door softly without knocking. also she was not aware of my coming. i would fain have crept away unseen; or even rather would have fallen on my knees by her side to crave her forgiveness for the bitter wrong my brother had done her. she was lying on the bed, her face hidden in the pillows, and her slender body shook as in an ague fit, while she sobbed low but right bitterly. nor did she mark my presence there till i fell on my knees by the bed and cast my arms about her. then she suddenly raised herself from the pillows, passed her hand across her wet eyes, and entreated me to leave her. yet i did not as she bade me; and when she saw how deeply i took her griefs to heart, she rose from her couch, on which she had lain down with all her clothes on, and only prayed me that this should be the last time i would ever speak with her of herdegen. then she led me to her table and showed me things which she had laid out thereon; poor little gifts which my brother had brought her; every one, except only the petrarca with the names in gold: anna-laura. and she desired that i would take them all and send them back to herdegen at some fitting time. as i nodded sadly enough, she must have seen in my face that i missed the little volumes and, ere i was aware, she had taken them out of her chest and thrown them in with the rest. then she cried in a changed voice: "that likewise--ah, no, not that! it is the best gift he ever made me, and he was so good and kind then--you do not know, you do not know!--how i long to keep the books! but away, away with them!" then she put everything into a silken kerchief, tied it up with hard knots, pushed the bundle into my hand, and besought me to go home. i went home, sick at heart, with the bundle in my cold hand, and when the door was opened by akusch, who, poor wight, bore our bitter winters but ill, i heard from above-stairs loud and right merry laughter and glee; and i knew it for the voice of cousin maud who seemed overpowered by sheer mirth. my wrath flared up, for our house this day was of a certainty the last where such merriment was fitting. my cheeks were red from the snow-storm, yet rage made them even hotter as i hastened up-stairs. but before i could speak a single word cousin maud, with whom were the magister and old pirkheimer the member of council, cried out as soon as she saw me: "only imagine, margery, what rare tidings his excellency has brought us." and she went on to tell me, with great joy, while his worship added facts now and then, that the magister had since yestereve become a rich man, inasmuch as his godmother, old dame oelhaf, had died, leaving him no small wealth. this was verily marvellous and joyful hearing, for many had imagined the deceased to be a needy woman who had carried on the business left her by her husband, albeit she had no service but that of an ill-paid shop-lad, who was like one of the lean ears of pharaoh's dream and moreover blind of one eye. nevertheless i remembered well that her little shop, which was no greater than a fair-sized closet, had ever been filled with buyers when we had stolen in, against all commands, to buy a few dried figs. i can see the little crippled mistress now as she limped across the shop or along the street, and the boys would call after her: "hip hop! lame duck!" and all nuremberg knew her better by the nickname of the lame duck than by her husband's. that the poor little woman had departed this life we had all heard yestereve; but even the magister had fully believed that her leavings would scarce be worth the pains of a walk to the town hall. but now the learned advocate told him that by her will, drawn up and attested according to law, she had devised to him all she had to leave as being the only child she had ever been thought worthy to hold at the font. then, due inquisition being made in her little place, a goodly number of worn stockings were found in the straw of her bed and other hiding places, and in them, instead of her lean little legs, many a gulden and hungarian ducat of good gold. moreover she had a house at nordlingen and a mill at schwabach, and thus the inheritance that had come to magister peter was altogether no small matter. the simple man had never hoped for such fortune, and it was in truth laughable to see how he forgot his dignity, and leaped first on one foot and then the other, crying: "no, no! it cannot be true! then poor irus is become rich croesus!" and thus he went on till he left us with master perkheimer. then i laughed with my cousin; and when i was once more alone i marvelled at the mercy of a benevolent providence, by whose ruling a small joy makes us to forget our heavy griefs, though it were but for a moment. at night, to be sure, i could not help thinking with fresh sorrow of that which had come upon us; but then, on the morrow, i saw the magister again, and would fain have rejoiced in his gladness; but lo, he was now silent and dull, and at the first opening he led ne aside and said, right humbly and with downcast eyes: "think no evil of me, mistress margery, in that yestereve my joy in earthly possessions was over much for my wits; believe me, it was not the glitter of mammon, but far other matters that turned my brain." and he confessed to me that he had ever borne ann in his heart, even when she was but a young maid at school, and had made the winning of her the goal of his life. to this end, and whereas without some means of living he could not hope, he had laid by every penny he had earned by teaching at our house and in the latin classes, and had foregone the buying of many a fine and learned book, or even of a jar of wine to drink in the company of his fellows. thus had he saved a goodly sum of money; nay, he had thought himself within reach of his high aim when he had discovered, that christmas eve before herdegen's departing, that the junker had robbed him of his one ewe lamb. there was nought left for him to do but to hold his peace, albeit in bitter sorrow, till within the last few days heaven had showered its mercies on him. the powerful junker--for so it was that he ever spoke and thought of my elder brother--had it seemed, released the lamb, and he himself was now in a state of life in which he might right well set up housekeeping. then he went on to beseech me with all humbleness to speak a word for him to the lady of his choice, and i found it not in my heart to give the death-blow forthwith to his fond and faithful hopes, albeit i wist full surely that they were all in vain. thus i bid him to have patience at least till christmas, inasmuch as he should give ann time to put away the memory of herdegen; and he consented with simple kindness, although he had changed much and for the better in these late years, and could boast of good respect among the learned men of our city; and thus, albeit not a wealthy man, and in spite of his mature years, he would be welcomed as a son-in-law by many a mother of daughters. thus the magister, who had waited so long, held back even yet awhile. one week followed another, the third sunday in advent went by, and the holy tide was at hand when the delay should end which the patient suitor had allowed. i had seen ann less often than in past times. in the coppersmith's great household she commonly had her hands full, and i felt indeed that her face was changed towards me. a kind of fear, which i had not marked in her of old, had come over her of late; meseemed she lived ever in dread of some new insult and hurt; also she had courteously but steadfastly refused to join in the festivities to which she was bidden by elsa ebner or others of the upper class, and even said nay to uncle christian's bidding to a dance, to be given this very day, being his name-day, at his lodgings in the castle. i likewise was bidden and had accepted my godfather's kindness; but my timid endeavor to move ann to do his will, as her best and dearest old friend, brought forth the sorrowful answer that i myself must judge how little she was fit for any merry-makings of the kind. my friendship with her, which had once been my highest joy, had thus lost all its lightheartedness, albeit it had not lost all its joys, nor was she therefore the less dear to me though i dealt with her now as with a well-beloved child for whose hurt we are not wholly blameless. now it fell that on this day, the 20th december, being my godfather's name-day, i found her not with the rest, but in her own chamber in violent distress. her cheeks were on fire, and she was in such turmoil as though she had escaped some terrible persecution. thereupon i questioned her in haste and fear, and she answered me with reserve, till, on a sudden, she cried: "it is killing me! i will bear it no more!" and hid her face in her hands, i clasped her in my arms, and to soothe her spoke in praise of her stepfather, master pernhart, and his high spirit and good heart; then she sobbed aloud and said: "oh, for that matter! if that were all!" and suddenly, or even i was aware, she had cast her arms about me and kissed my lips and cheeks with great warmth. then she cried out: "oh, margery! you cannot turn from me! i indeed tried to turn from you; and i could have done it, even if it had cost me my heart's blood! but now and here i ask you: is it just that i should lay myself on the rack because he has so cruelly hurt me? no, no. and i need your true soul to help me to shake off the burden which is crushing me to the earth and choking me. help me to bear it, or i shall come to a bad end--i shall follow her who died here in this very chamber." my soul had ever stood open to her and so i told her right heartily, and her face became once more as it had been of old; and albeit those things she had to tell me were not indeed comforting, still i could in all honesty bid her to be of good heart; and i presently felt that to unburden herself of all that had weighed upon her these last few weeks, did her as much good as a bath. for it still was a pain to her to see her mother cooing like a pigeon round her new mate. she herself was full of his praises, albeit this man, well brought up and trained to good manners, would ever abide by the old customs of the old craftsmen, and his venerable mother likewise held fast by them, so that his wife had striven in vain to change the ways of the house. thus master and mistress, son and daughter, foreman and apprentice, sewing man and maid all ate, as they had ever done, at the same table. and whereas the daughters, by old custom, sat in order on the mother's side, the youngest next to her and the oldest at the end, it thus fell that ann was placed next to the foreman, who was that very one who had betrayed gotz waldstromer to his master because he had himself cast an eye on gertrude. the young fellow had ere long set his light heart on ann; and being a fine lad, and the sole son of a well-to-do master in augsburg, he was likewise a famous wooer and breaker of maiden hearts, and could boast of many a triumphant love affair among the daughters of the simpler class. he was, in his own rank of life, cock of the walk, as such folks say; and i remembered well having seen him at an apprentices' dance at the may merrymakings, whither he had come apparelled in a rose-colored jerkin and light-hued hose, bedecked with flowers and greenery in his cap and belt; he had fooled with the daughters of the master of his guild like the coxcomb he was, and whirled them off to dance as though he did them high honor by paying court to them. it might, to be sure, have given him a lesson to find that his master's fair daughter scorned his suit; yet that sank not deep, inasmuch as it was for the sake of a junker of high degree. with ann he might hope for better luck; for although from the first she gave him to wit that he pleased her not, he did not therefore leave her in peace, and this very morning, finding her alone in the hall, he had made so bold as to put forth his hand to clasp her. albeit she had forthwith set him in his place, and right sharply, it seemed that to protect herself against his advances there was no remedy but a complaint to his master, which would disturb the peace of the household. she was indeed able enough to take care of herself and to ward off any unseemly boldness on his part; but she felt her noble purity soiled by contact with that taint of commonness of which she was conscious in this young fellow's ways, and in many other daily experiences. every meal, with the great dish into which the apprentice dipped his spoon next to hers, was a misery to her; and when the master's old mother marked this, and noted also how uneasily she submitted to her new place and part in life, seeing likewise ann's tear-stained eyes and sorrowful countenance, she conceived that all this was by reason that ann's pride could hardly bend to endure life in a craftsman's dwelling. and her heart was turned from her son's step-daughter, whom at first she had welcomed right kindly; she overlooked her as a rule, or if she spoke to her, it was in harsh and ungracious tones. this, as ann saw its purpose, hurt her all the more, as she saw more clearly that the new grandmother was a warm-hearted and worthy and right-minded woman, from whose lips fell many a wise word, while she was as kind to the younger children as though they had been her own grandchildren. nay, one had but to look at her to see that she was made of sound stuff, and had head and heart both in the right place. a few hours since ann had opened her heart to her father confessor, the reverend prebendary von hellfeld; and he had counselled her to take the veil and win heavenly bliss in a convent as the bride of christ. and whereas all she craved was peace, and a refuge from the world wherein she had suffered so much, and cousin maud and i likewise deemed it the better course for her, she would gladly have followed this good counsel, but that her late dear father had ever been strongly averse to the life of the cloister. self-seeking, he would say, is at the root of all evil, and he who becomes an alien from this world and its duties to seek happiness in a convent--inasmuch as that beatitude for which monks and nuns strive is nothing else than a higher form of happiness, extending beyond the grave to the very end of all things--may indeed intend to pursue the highest aim, and yet it is but self-seeking, although of the loftiest and noblest kind. also, but a few days ere he died, he had admonished ann, in whom he had long discerned the true teacher of his younger children, to warn them above all things against self-seeking, inasmuch as now that the hand of death was already on him, he found his chiefest comfort in the assurance of having labored faithfully, trusting in his redeemer's grace, to do all that in him lay for his own kith and kin, and for other folks' orphans, whether rich or poor. this discourse had sunk deep into ann's soul, and had been in her mind when she spoke such brave words to herdegen, exhorting him to higher aims. now, again, coming forth from the good priest's door, she had met her grand-uncle the organist, and asking him what he would say if a hapless and forlorn maid should seek the peace she had lost in the silence of the cloister, the simple man looked her full in the eyes and murmured sadly to himself: "alack! and has it come to this!" then he went close up to her, raised her drooping head, and cried in a cheering voice: "in a cloister? you, in a cloister! you, our ann, who have already learnt to be so good a mother in the sisters's school? no child, and again and again i say no. pay heed rather to the saying which your old grand-uncle once heard from the lips of a wise and good man, when in the sorest hour of his life he was about to knock at the gate of a cistercian convent.--his words were: 'though thou lose all thou deemest thy happiness, if thou canst but make the happiness of others, thou shalt find it again in thine own heart.'" and at a later day old heyden himself told me that he, who while yet but a youth had been the prefectus of the town-pipers, had been nigh to madness when his wife, his elslein, had been snatched from him after scarce a year and a half of married life. after he had recovered his wits, he had conceived that any balance or peace of mind was only to be found in a convent, near to god; and it was at that time that the wise and excellent ulman stromer had spoken the words which had been thenceforth the light and guiding line of his life. he had remained in the world; but he had renounced the more honorable post of prefect of the town-musicians, and taken on him the humble one of organist, in which it had been granted to him to offer up his great gift of music as it were a sacrifice to heaven. this maxim, which had spared the virtuous old man to the world, made its mark on ann likewise; and whereas i saw how gladly she had received the doctrine that happiness should be found in making others happy, i prayed her to join me in taking it henceforth as the guiding lamp of our lives. at this she was well pleased; and she went on to point wherein and how we should henceforth strive to forget ourselves for our neighbor's sake, with that soaring flight of soul in which i could scarce follow her but as a child lags after a butterfly or a bird. then, when i presently saw that she was in better heart, i took courage, but in jest, being sure of her refusal, to plead the magister's suit. this, however, was as i was departing; i had already stayed and delayed her over-long, inasmuch as i had yet to array myself for the feast at uncle christian's. but, as i was about to speak; a serving man came in with a letter written by the kind old man to ann herself, his "dear watchman" in which, for the third time, he besought her, with pressing warmth, not to refuse to go to him on his name day and pledge him in the loving cup to his health and happiness. with the help of this tender appeal i made her say she would go; yet she spoke the words in haste and great agitation. my uncle's messenger had hindered my suing, so while we hastily looked through ann's store of holiday raiment, i brought my pleading for master peter to an end; and what i looked for came, in truth, to pass: without seeming one whit surprised she steadfastly rejected his suit, saying that he was the poor, good, faithful magister, and worthy to win a wife whose heart was all his own. at my uncle's house that night, with the exception of certain learned and reverend gentlemen, ann alone was not of gentle birth. yet was she in no wise the least, neither in demeanor nor in attire; and when i beheld her in the ante-chamber, all lighted up with wax tapers, in her sky-blue gown, thanking the master of the house and his sister--who kept house for him--for their condescension, as she upraised her great eyes with loving respect, i could have clasped her in my arms in the face of all the world, and i marvelled how my brother herdegen could have sinfully cast such a jewel from him. then, when we went on together into the guest chamber, it fell that the town-pipers at that minute ceased to play and there was silence on all, as though a flourish of trumpets had warned of the approach of a prince; and yet it was only in honor of ann and her wondrous beauty. each and all of the young men there would, meseemed, gladly have stepped into herdegen's place, and she was so fully taken up with dancing that she could scarce mark how diligently all the mothers and maidens overlooked her. howbeit, ursula tetzel was not content with that, but went up to her and with a sneer enquired whether junker schopper at paris were well. ann drew herself up with pride and hastily answered that if any one craved news of him he had best apply to mistress ursula tetzel, inasmuch as she was ever wont to have a keen eye on her dear cousin. at this ursula cried out: "how well our old schoolmate remembers the lessons she learnt; even the fable of the fox and the grapes!" then, turning to me she added: "nor has she lost her skill in learning; she has not long been in her stepfather's dwelling and she has already mastered the art of hitting blows as the coppersmiths do." and she turned her back on us both. and presently, when it came to her turn to join the chain in which ann was taking part, i marked well that she urged the youth she danced with to stand away from the craftsman's daughter. howbeit i at once brought her plot to naught and the young gentleman to shame. not that she needed any such defence, for her beauty led every man to seek her above all others. and when, at supper, uncle christian called her to his side and made it fully manifest to all present how dear she was to his faithful heart, i hoped that indeed the day was won for her, and that henceforth our friendship would be regarded as a matter apart from any concern with her step-father the coppersmith. what need she care about those discourteous women, who made it, to be sure, plain enough at their departing, that they took her presence there amiss. on our way home methought she was in a meditative mood, and as we parted she bid me go to see her early next morning. this i should have done in any case, inasmuch as i knew no greater pleasure, after a feast or dance at which we had been together, than to talk with her of any matter we might each have marked, but there was something more than this in her mind. next day, indeed, when i had greeted her, she had lost her cheerful mien of the day before; it was plain to see that she had not slept, and i presently learned that she had been thinking through the night what her life must be, and how she could best fulfill the vow we had both made. the more diligently she had considered of the matter, the more worthy had she deemed our purpose; and the dance at my uncle christian's had clearly proven to her that among our class there were few to whom her presence could be welcome, and none to whom it could bring any real pleasure. in this she was doubtless right; yet was i startled when, with the steadfast will which she ever showed, she said that, after duly weighing the matter, she had made up her mind to accept the magister. when she perceived how greatly i was amazed, she besought me, with the same eager haste as i had marvelled at the day before, that i would not contend against a conclusion she had fully weighed; inasmuch as that the magister was a worthy man whom she could make truly happy. moreover, his newly-acquired wealth would enable her to help many indigent persons in their need and misery. i enquired of her earnestly how about any love for him, and she broke out with much vehemence, saying that i must know for certain that for her all love and the joys of love were numbered with the dead. she would tell this to master peter with all honesty, and she was sure that he would be content with her friendship and warm goodwill. but all this she poured out as though she could not endure to hear her own words. an inward voice at the same time warned me that she had made up her mind to this step, in order that herdegen might fully understand that to him she was lost for ever, albeit i had not given up all hope that they might some day come together, and that ann's noble love of what was best in my brother might thus rescue him from utter ruin. hence her ill-starred resolve filled me with rage, to such a degree that i railed at it as a mad and sinful deed against her own peace of mind, and indeed against him whom she had once held as dear as her own life. but ann cut me short, and bade me sharply to mind my promise, and never speak of herdegen again. my hot blood rose at this and i made for the door; nay, i had the handle of the latch in my hand when she flew after me, held me back by force, and entreated me with prayers that i would let her do her will, for that she had no choice. she purposed in solemn earnest henceforth at all times to devote herself to the happiness of others, and whereas that demanded heavy sacrifice, she was now ready to make it. if indeed i still refused to carry her answer to the magister, then would she send it through her step-father or dame henneleinlein, who was apt at such errands, and bid her suitor come to see her. then i perceived that there was but small hope; with a heavy heart, and, indeed, a secret intent behind, i took the task upon me, for i saw plainly that my refusal would ruin all. all the same, meseemed it was a happy ordering that the magister should have set forth early that morning to spend a few days at nordlingen, to take possession of the house he had fallen heir to; for, when a great misfortune lies ahead, a hopeful soul clings to delay as the harbinger of deliverance. i made my way home full of forebodings, and in front of our door i saw my forest uncle's horses in waiting. he was above stairs with cousin maud, and i soon was informed that he had come to bid me and ann to the great hunt which was to take place at the new year. his highness duke albrecht of bavaria, with divers other knights and gentlemen, had promised to take part in it, and he needed our help for his sick and suffering wife; also, said he, he loved to see "a few smart young maids" at his board. already he and cousin maud had discussed at length whether it would be seemly to bring the coppersmith's stepdaughter into the company of such illustrious guests; and the balance in her favor had been struck in his mind by his opinion that a fair young maid must ever be pleasing in the hunter's eyes out in the forest, whatever her rank might be. he had now but one care, and that was that neither he nor any other man had hitherto dared to utter the name of master ulman pernhart to my aunt jacoba, and that she therefore knew not of his marriage with her dear ann's mother. yet must the lady be informed thereof; so, finding that my cousin maud made no secret of her will to speed the magister's wooing, while i weened, with good reason, that my aunt would gladly support me in hindering it, i then and there made up my mind to go back with my uncle, and hold council with his shrewd-witted wife. etext editor's bookmarks: a small joy makes us to forget our heavy griefs all i did was right in her eyes especial gift to listen keenly and question discreetly happiness should be found in making others happy have never been fain to set my heart on one only maid hopeful soul clings to delay as the harbinger of deliverance no false comfort, no cloaking of the truth one head, instead of three, ruled the church though thou lose all thou deemest thy happiness this ebook was produced by david widger <widger@cecomet.net> [note: there is a short list of bookmarks, or pointers, at the end of the file for those who may wish to sample the author's ideas before making an entire meal of them. d.w.] the emperor, part 1. by georg ebers volume 1. translated by clara bell preface. it is now fourteen years since i planned the story related in these volumes, the outcome of a series of lectures which i had occasion to deliver on the period of the roman dominion in egypt. but the pleasures of inventive composition were forced to give way to scientific labors, and when i was once more at leisure to try my wings with increase of power i felt more strongly urged to other flights. thus it came to pass that i did i not take the time of hadrian for the background of a tale till after i had dealt with the still later period of the early monastic move in "homo sum." since finishing that romance my old wish to depict, in the form of a story, the most important epoch of the history of that venerable nation to which i have devoted nearly a quarter century of my life, has found its fulfilment. i have endeavored to give a picture of the splendor of the pharaonic times in "uarda," of the subjection of egypt to the new empire of the persians in "an egyptian princess," of the hellenic period under the lagides in "the sisters," of the roman dominion and the early growth of christianity in "the emperor," and of the anchorite spirit--in the deserts and rocks of the sinaitic peninsula--in "homo sum." thus the present work is the last of which the scene will be laid in egypt. this series of romances will not only have introduced the reader to a knowledge of the history of manners and culture in egypt, but will have facilitated his comprehension of certain dominant ideas which stirred the mind of the ancients. how far i may have succeeded in rendering the color of the times i have described and in producing pictures that realize the truth, i myself cannot venture to judge; for since even present facts are differently reflected in different minds, this must be still more emphatically the case with things long since past and half-forgotten. again and again, when historical investigation has refused to afford me the means of resuscitating some remotely ancient scene, i have been obliged to take counsel of imagination and remember the saying that 'the poet must be a retrospective seer,' and could allow my fancy to spread her wings, while i remained her lord and knew the limits up to which i might permit her to soar. i considered it my lawful privilege to paint much that was pure invention, but nothing that was not possible at the period i was representing. a due regard for such possibility has always set the bounds to fancy's flight; wherever existing authorities have allowed me to be exact and faithful i have always been so, and the most distinguished of my fellow-professors in germany, england, france and holland, have more than once borne witness to this. but, as i need hardly point out, poetical and historical truth are not the same thing; for historical truth must remain, as far as possible, unbiassed by the subjective feeling of the writer, while poetical truth can only find expression through the medium of the artist's fancy. as in my last two romances, so in "the emperor," i have added no notes: i do this in the pleasant conviction of having won the confidence of my readers by my historical and other labors. nothing has encouraged me to fresh imaginative works so much as the fact that through these romances the branch of learning that i profess has enlisted many disciples whose names are now mentioned with respect among egyptologists. every one who is familiar with the history of hadrian's time will easily discern by trifling traits from what author or from which inscription or monument the minor details have been derived, and i do not care to interrupt the course of the narrative and so spoil the pleasure of the larger class of readers. it would be a happiness to me to believe that this tale deserves to be called a real work of art, and, as such, its first function should be to charm and elevate the mind. those who at the same time enrich their knowledge by its study ought not to detect the fact that they are learning. those who are learned in the history of alexandria under the romans may wonder that i should have made no mention of the therapeutai on lake mareotis. i had originally meant to devote a chapter to them, but luca's recent investigations led me to decide on leaving it unwritten. i have given years of study to the early youth of christianity, particularly in egypt, and it affords me particular satisfaction to help others to realize how, in hadrian's time, the pure teaching of the saviour, as yet little sullied by the contributions of human minds, conquered--and could not fail to conquer--the hearts of men. side by side with the triumphant faith i have set that noble blossom of greek life and culture--art which in later ages, christianity absorbed in order to dress herself in her beautiful forms. the statues and bust of antinous which remain to us of that epoch, show that the drooping tree was still destined to put forth new leaves under hadrian's rule. the romantic traits which i have attributed to the character of my hero, who travelled throughout the world, climbing mountains to rejoice in the splendor of he rising sun, are authentic. one of the most difficult tasks i have ever set myself was to construct from the abundant but essentially contradictory accounts of hadian a human figure in which i could myself at all believe; still, how gladly i set to work to do so! there was much to be considered in working out this narraive, but the story itself has flowed straight from the ieart of the writer; i can only hope it may find its way to that of the reader. leipzig, november, 1880. georg ebers. the emperor. chapter i. the morning twilight had dawned into day, and the sun had risen on the first of december of the year of our lord 129, but was still veiled by milk-white mists which rose from the sea, and it was cold. kasius, a mountain of moderate elevation, stands on a tongue of land that projects from the coast between the south of palestine and egypt. it is washed on the north by the sea which, on this day, is not gleaming, as is its wont, in translucent ultramarine; its more distant depths slowly surge in blue-black waves, while those nearer to shore are of quite a different hue, and meet their sisters that lie nearer to the horizon in a dull greenish-grey, as dusty plains join darker lava beds. the northeasterly wind, which had risen as the sun rose, now blew more keenly, wreaths of white foam rode on the crests of the waves, though these did not beat wildly and stormily on the mountain-foot, but rolled heavily to the shore in humped ridges, endlessly long, as if they were of molten lead. still the clear bright spray splashed up when the gulls dipped their pinions in the water as they floated above it, hither and thither, restless and uttering shrill little cries, as though driven by terror. three men were walking slowly along the causeway which led from the top of the hill down into the valley, but it was only the eldest, who walked in front of the other two, who gave any heed to the sky, the sea, the gulls, and the barren plain that lay silent at his feet. he stopped, and as soon as he did so, the others followed his example. the landscape below him seemed to rivet his gaze, and it justified the disapproval with which he gently shook his head, which was somewhat sunk into his beard. a narrow strip of desert stretched westward before him as far as the eye could reach, dividing two levels of water. along this natural dyke a caravan was passing, and the elastic feet of the camels fell noiselessly on the road they trod. the leader, wrapped in his white mantle, seemed asleep, and the camel-drivers to be dreaming; the dull-colored eagles by the road-side did not stir at their approach. to the right of the stretch of flat coast along which the road ran from syria to egypt, lay the gloomy sea, overhung by grey clouds; to the left lay the desert, a strange and mysterious feature in the landscape, of which the eye could not see the end, either to the east or to the west, and which looked here like a stretch of snow, there like standing water, and again like a thicket of rushes. the eldest of our travellers gazed constantly towards heaven or into the distance; the second, a slave who carried rugs and cloaks on his broad shoulders, never took his eyes off his master; and the third, a young, free-man, looked wearily and dreamily down the road. a broad path, leading to a stately temple, crossed that which led from the summit of the mountain to the coast, and the bearded pedestrian turned up it; but he followed it only for a few steps, then he turned his head with a dissatisfied air, muttered a few unintelligible words into his beard, turned round and hastily retraced his steps to the narrow way, down which he went towards the valley. his young companion followed him without raising his head or interrupting his reverie, as if he were his shadow, but the slave lifted his cropped fair head and a stolen smile crossed his lips as on the left hand side of the kasius road he caught sight of a black kid, and close beside it an old woman who, at the approach of the three men covered her wrinkled face in alarm with her dark blue veil. "that is the reason then!" said the slave to himself with a nod, and blowing a kiss into the air to a black-haired girl who crouched at the old woman's feet. but she, for whom the greeting was intended, did not observe this mute courtship, for her eyes followed the travellers, and especially the young man, as if spellbound. as soon as the three were far enough off not to hear her, the girl asked with a shiver, as if some desert-spectre had passed by-and in a low voice "grandmother, who was that?" the old woman raised her veil, laid her hand on her grandchild's mouth, and whispered: "it was he." "the emperor?" the old woman answered with a significant nod, but the girl squeezed herself up, against her grandmother, with vehement curiosity stretching out her dusky head to see better, and asked softly: "the young one?" "silly child! the one in front with a grey beard." "he? oh, i wish the young one was the emperor!" it was in fact hadrian, the roman emperor, who walked on in silence before his escort, and it seemed as though his advent had given life to the desert, for as he approached the reed-swamp, the kites flew up in the air, and from behind a sand-hill on the edge of the broader road which hadrian had avoided, came two men in priestly robes. they both belonged to the temple of baal of kariotis, a small structure of solid stone, which faced the sea, and which the emperor had yesterday visited. "do you think he has lost his way?" said one to the other, in the phoenician tongue. "hardly," was the answer. "master said that he could always find a road again by which he had once gone, even in the dark." "and yet he is gazing more at the clouds than at the road." "still, he promised us yesterday." "he promised nothing for certain," interrupted the other. "indeed he did; at parting he called out--and i heard him distinctly: 'perhaps i shall return and consult your oracle.'" "perhaps." "i think he said 'probably.'" "who knows whether some sign he has seen up in the sky may not have turned him back; he is going to the camp by the sea." "but the banquet is standing ready for him in our great hall." "he will find what he needs down there. come, it is a wretched morning, and i am being frozen." "wait a little longer-look there." "what?" "he does not even wear a hat to cover his grey hair." "he has never yet been seen to travel with anything on his head." "and his grey cloak is not very imperial looking." "he always wears the purple at a banquet." "do you know who his walk and appearance remind me of?" "who?" "of our late high-priest, abibaal; he used to walk in that ponderous, meditative way, and wear a beard like the emperor's." "yes, yes--and had the same piercing grey eye." "he too used often to gaze up at the sky. they have both the same broad forehead, too; but abibaal's nose was more aquiline, and his hair curled less closely." "and our governor's mouth was grave and dignified, while hadrian's lips twitch and curl at all he says and hears, as if he were laughing at it all." "look, he is speaking now to his favorite--antonius i think they call the pretty boy." "antinous, not antonius. he picked him up in bithynia, they say." "he is a beautiful youth." "incomparably beautiful! what a figure and what a face! still, i cannot wish that he were my son." "the emperor's favorite!" "for that very reason. why, he looks already as if he had tried every pleasure, and could never know any farther enjoyment." ............................ on a little level close to the sea-shore, and sheltered by crumbling cliffs from the east wind, stood a number of tents. between them fires were burning, round which were gathered groups of roman soldiers and imperial servants. half-naked boys, the children of the fishermen and camel-drivers who dwelt in this wilderness, were running busily hither and thither, feeding the flames with dry stems of sea-grass and dead desert-shrubs; but though the blaze flew high, the smoke did not rise; but driven here and there by the squalls of wind, swirled about close to the ground in little clouds, like a flock of scattered sheep. it seemed as though it feared to rise in the grey, damp, uninviting atmosphere. the largest of the tents, in front of which roman sentinels paced up and down, two and two, on guard, was wide open on the side towards the sea. the slaves who came out of the broad door-way with trays on their cropped heads-loaded with gold and silver vessels, plates, wine-jars, goblets, and the remains of a meal had to hold them tightly with both hands that they might not be blown over. the inside of the tent was absolutely unadorned. the emperor lay on a couch near the right wall, which was blown in and bulged by the wind; his bloodless lips were tightly set, his arms crossed over his breast, and his eyes half closed. but he was not asleep, for he often opened his mouth and smacked his lips, as if tasting the flavor of some viand. from time to time he raised his eyelids--long, finely wrinkled, and blueveined--turning his eyes up to heaven or rolling them to one side and then downwards towards the middle of the tent. there, on the skin of a huge bear trimmed with blue cloth, lay hadrian's favorite antinous. his beautiful head rested on that of the beast, which had been slain by his sovereign, and its skull and skin skilfully preserved, his right leg, supported on his left knee, he flourished freely in the air, and his hands were caressing the emperor's bloodhound, which had laid its sagelooking head on the boy's broad, bare breast, and now and then tried to lick his soft lips to show its affection. but this the youth would not allow; he playfully held the beast's muzzle close with his hands or wrapped its head in the end of his mantle, which had slipped back from his shoulders. the dog seemed to enjoy the game, but once when antinous had drawn the cloak more tightly round its head and it strove in vain to be free from the cloth that impeded its breathing, it set up a loud howl, and this doleful cry made the emperor change his attitude and cast a glance of displeasure at the boy lying on the bear-skin, but only a glance, not a word of blame. and soon the expression, even of his eyes, changed, and he fixed them on the lads's figure with a gaze of loving contemplation, as though it were some noble work of art that he could never tire of admiring. and truly the immortals had moulded this child of man to such a type; every muscle of that throat, that chest, those arms and legs was a marvel of softness and of power; no human countenance could be more regularly chiselled. antinous observing that his master's attention had been attracted to his play with the dog, let the animal go and turned his large, but not very brilliant, eyes on the emperor. "what are you doing here?" asked hadrian kindly. "nothing," said the boy. "no one can do nothing. even if we fancy we have succeeded in doing nothing we still continue to think that we are unoccupied, and to think is a good deal." "but i cannot even think." every one can think; besides you were not doing nothing, for you were playing." "yes, with the dog." with these words antinous stretched out his legs on the ground, pushed away the dog, and raised his curly head on both hands. "are you tired?" asked the emperor. "yes." "we both kept watch for an equal portion of the night, and i, who am so much older, feel quite wide awake." "it was only yesterday that you were saying that old soldiers were the best for night-watches." the emperor nodded, and then said: "at your age while we are awake we live three times as fast as at mine, and so we need to sleep twice as long. you have every right to be tired. to be sure it was not till three hours after midnight that we climbed the mountain, and how often a supper party is not over before that." "it was very cold and uncomfortable up there." "not till after the sun had risen." "ah! before that you did not notice it, for till then you were busy thinking of the stars." "and you only of yourself--very true." "i was thinking of your health too when that cold wind rose before helios appeared." "i was obliged to await his rising." "and can you discern future events by the way and manner of the rising of the sun?" hadrian looked in surprise at the speaker, shook his head in negation, looked up at the top of the tent, and after a long pause said, in abrupt sentences, with frequent interruptions: "day is the present merely, and the future is evolved out of darkness; the corn grows from the clods of the field; the rain falls from the darkest clouds; a new generation is born of the mother's womb; the limbs recover their vigor in sleep. and what is begotten of the darkness of death--who can tell?" when, after saying this, the emperor had remained for some time silent, the youth asked him: "but if the sunrise teaches you nothing concerning the future why should you so often break your night's rest and climb the mountain to see it?" "why? why?" repeated hadrian, slowly and meditatively, stroking his grizzled beard; then he went on as if speaking to himself: "that is a question which reason fails to answer, before which my lips find no words; and, if i had them at my command, who among the rabble would understand me? such questions can best be answered by means of parables. those who take part in life are actors, and the world is their stage. he who wants to look tall on it wears the cothurnus, and is not a mountain the highest vantage ground that a man can find for the sole of his foot? kasius there is but a hill, but i have stood on greater giants than he, and seen the clouds rise below me, like jupiter on olympus." "but you need climb no mountains to feel yourself a god," cried antinous; "the godlike is your title--you command and the world must obey. with a mountain beneath his feet a man is nearer to heaven no doubt than he is on the plain." "well?" "i dare not say what came into my mind." "speak out." "i knew a little girl who when i took her on my shoulder would stretch out her arms and exclaim, 'i am so tall!' she fancied that she was taller than i then, and yet was only little panthea." "but in her own conception of herself, it was she who was tall, and that decides the issue, for to each of us a thing is only that which it seems to us. it is true they call me godlike, but i feel every day, and a hundred times a day, the limitations of the power and nature of man, and i cannot get beyond them. on the top of a mountain i cease to feel them; there i feel as if i were great, for nothing is higher than my head, far or near. and when, as i stand there, the night vanishes before my eyes, when the splendor of the young sun brings the world into new life for me, by restoring to my consciousness all that just before had been engulfed in gloom, then a deeper breath swells my breast, and my lungs fill with the purer and lighter air of the heights. up there, alone and in silence, no hint can reach me of the turmoil below, and i feel myself one with the great aspect of nature spread before me. the surges of the sea come and go, the tree-tops in the forest bow and rise, fog and mist roll away and part asunder hither and thither, and up there i feel myself so merged with the creation that surrounds me that often it even seems as though it were my own breath that gives it life. like the storks and the swallows, i yearn for the distant land, and where should the human eye be more likely to be permitted, at least in fancy, to discern the remote goal than from the summit of a mountain? "the limitless distance which the spirit craves for seems there to assume a form tangible to the senses, and the eye detects its border line. my whole being feels not merely elevated, but expanded, and that vague longing which comes over me as soon as i mix once more in the turmoil of life, and when the cares of state demand my strength, vanishes. but you cannot understand it, boy. these are things which no other mortal can share with me." "and it is only to me that you do not scorn to reveal them!" cried antinous, who had turned round to face the emperor, and who with wide eyes had not lost one word. "you?" said hadrian, and a smile, not absolutely free from mockery, parted his lips. "from you i should no more have a secret than from the cupid by praxiteles, in my study at rome." the blood mounted to the lad's cheeks and dyed them flaming crimson. the emperor observed this and said kindly: "you are more to me than the statue, for the marble cannot blush. in the time of the athenians beauty governed life, but in you i can see that the gods are pleased to give it a bodily existence, even in our own days, and to look at you reconciles me to the discords of existence. it does me good. but how should i expect to find that you understand me; your brow was never made to be furrowed by thought; or did you really understand one word of all i said?" antinous propped himself on his left arm, and lifting his right hand, he said emphatically: "yes." "and which," asked hadrian. "i know what longing is." "for what?" "for many things." "tell me one." "some enjoyment that is not followed by depression. i do not know of one." "that is a desire you share with all the youth of rome, only they are apt to postpone the reaction. well, and what next?" "i cannot tell you." "what prevents your speaking openly to me?" "you, yourself did." "i?" "yes, you; for you forbid me to speak of my home, my mother, and my people." the emperor's brow darkened, and he answered sternly: "i am your father and your whole soul should be given to me." "it is all yours," answered the youth, falling back on to the bear-skin, and drawing the pallima closely over his shoulders, for a gust blew coldly in at the side of the tent, through which phlegon, the emperor's private secretary, now entered and approached his master. he was followed by a slave with several sealed rolls under his arms. "will it be agreeable to you, caesar, to consider the despatches and letters that have just arrived?" asked the official, whose carefullyarranged hair had been tossed by the sea-breeze. "yes, and then we can make a note of what i was able to observe in the heavens last night. have you the tablets ready?" "i left them in the tent set up especially for the work, caesar." "the storm has become very violent." "it seems to blow from the north and east both at once, and the sea is very rough. the empress will have a bad voyage." "when did she set out?" "the anchor was weighed towards midnight. the vessel which is to fetch her to alexandria is a fine ship, but rolls from side to side in a very unpleasant manner." hadrian laughed loudly and sharply at this, and said: "that will turn her heart and her stomach upside down. i wish i were there to see--but no, by all the gods, no! for she will certainly forget to paint this morning; and who will construct that edifice of hair if all her ladies share her fate. we will stay here to-day, for if i meet her soon after she has reached alexandria she will be undiluted gall and vinegar." with these words hadrian rose from his couch, and waving his hand to antinous, went out of the tent with his secretary. a third person standing at the back of the tent had heard the emperor's conversation with his favorite; this was mastor, a sarmatian of the race of the taryges. he was a slave, and no more worthy of heed than the dog which had followed hadrian, or than the pillows on which the emperor had been reclining. the man, who was handsome and well grown, stood for some time twisting the ends of his long red moustache, and stroking his round, closely-cropped head with his bands; then he drew the open chiton together over his broad breast, which seemed to gleam from the remarkable whiteness of the skin. he never took his eyes off antinous, who had turned over, and covering his face with his hands had buried them in the bear's hairy mane. mastor had something he wanted to say to him, but he dared not address him for the young favorite's demeanor could not be reckoned on. often he was ready to listen to him and talk with him as a friend, but often, too, he repulsed him more sharply than the haughtiest upstart would repel the meanest of his servants. at last the slave took courage and called the lad by his name, for it seemed less hard to submit to a scolding than to smother the utterance of a strong, warm feeling, unimportant as it might be, which was formed in words in his mind. antinous raised his head a little on his hands and asked: "what is it?" "i only wanted to tell you," replied the sarmatian, "that i know who the little girl was that you so often took upon your shoulders. it was your little sister, was it not, of whom you were speaking to me lately?" the lad nodded assent, and then once more buried his head in his hands, and his shoulders heaved so violently that it would seem that he was weeping.--mastor remained silent for a few minutes, then he went up to antinous and said: "you know i have a son and a little daughter at home, and i am always glad to hear about little girls. we are alone and if it will relieve your heart." "let me alone, i have told you a dozen times already about my mother and little parthea," replied antinous, trying to look composed. "then do so confidently for the thirteenth," said the slave. "in the camp and in the kitchen i can talk about my people as much as i like. but you--tell me, what do you call the little dog that panthea made a scarlet cloak for?" "we called it kallista," cried antinous wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. "my father would not allow it but we persuaded my mother. i was her favorite, and when i put my arms round her and looked at her imploringly she always said 'yes' to anything i asked her." a bright light shone in the boy's weary eyes; he had remembered a whole wealth of joys which left no depression behind them. chapter ii. one of the palaces built in alexandria by the ptolemaic kings stood on the peninsula called lochias which stretched out into the blue sea like a finger pointing northwards; it formed the eastern boundary of the great harbor. here there was never any lack of vessels but to-day they were particularly numerous, and the quay-road paved with smooth blocks of stone, which led from the palatial quarter of the town--the bruchiom as it was called--which was bathed by the sea, to the spit of land was so crowded with curious citizens on foot and in vehicles, that all conveyances were obliged to stop in their progress before they had reached the private harbor reserved for the emperor's vessels. but there was something out of the common to be seen at the landingplace, for there lying under the shelter of the high mole were the splendid triremes, galleys, long boats and barges which had brought hadrian's wife and the suite of the imperial couple to alexandria. a very large vessel with a particularly high cabin on the after deck and having the head of a she-wolf on the lofty and boldly-carved prow excited the utmost attention. it was carved entirely in cedar wood, richly decorated with bronze and ivory, and named the sabina. a young alexandrian pointed to the name written in gold letters on the stern, nudging his companion and saying with a laugh: "sabina has a wolf's head then!" "a peacock's would suit her better. did you see her on her way to the caesareum?" replied the other. "alas! i did," said the first speaker, but he said no more perceiving, close behind him, a roman lictor who bore over his left shoulder his fasces, a bundle of elmrods skilfully tied together, and who, with a wand in his right-hand and the assistance of his comrades, was endeavoring to part the crowd and make room for the chariot of his master, titianus, the imperial prefect, which came slowly in the rear. this high official had overheard the citizens' heedless words, and turning to the man who stood beside him, while with a light fling he threw the end of his toga into fresh folds, he said: "an extraordinary people! i cannot feel annoyed with them, and yet i would rather walk from here to canopus on the edge of a knife than on that of an alexandrian's tongue." "did you hear what the stout man was saying about verus?" "the lictor wanted to take him up, but nothing is to be done with them by violence. if they had to pay only a sesterce for every venomous word, i tell you pontius, the city would be impoverished and our treasury would soon be fuller than that of gyges at sardis." "let them keep their money," cried the other, the chief architect of the city, a man of about thirty years of age with highly-arched brows and eager piercing eyes; and grasping the roll he held in his hand with a strong grip, he continued: "they know how to work, and sweat is bitter. while they are busy they help each other, in idleness they bite each other, like unbroken horses harnessed to the same pole. the wolf is a fine brute, but if you break out his teeth he becomes a mangy hound." "you speak after my own heart," cried the prefect. "but here we are, eternal gods! i never imagined anything so bad as this. from a distance it always looked handsome enough!" titianus and the architect descended from the chariot, the former desired a lictor to call the steward of the palace, and then he and his companion inspected first the door which led into it. it looked fine enough with its double columns which supported a lofty pediment, but, all the same, it did not present a particularly pleasing aspect, for the stucco had, in several places, fallen from the walls, the capitals of the marble columns were lamentably injured and the tall doors, overlaid with metal, hung askew on their hinges. pontius inspected every portion of the door-way with a keen eye and then, with the prefect, went into the first court of the palace, in which, in the time of the ptolemies, the tents had stood for ambassadors, secretaries, and the officers in waiting on the king. there they met with an unexpected hindrance, for across the paved courtyard, where the grass grew in tufts, and tall thistles were in bloom, a number of ropes were stretched aslant from the little house in which dwelt the gate-keeper; and on these ropes were hung newly-washed garments of every size and shape. "a pretty residence for an emperor," sighed titianus, shrugging his shoulders, but stopping the lictor, who had raised his fasces to cut the ropes. "it is not so bad as it looks," said the architect positively. "gatekeeper! hi, gate-keeper! where is the lazy fellow hiding himself?" while he called out and the lictor hurried forward into the interior of the palace, pontius went towards the gate-keeper's lodge, and having made his way in a stooping attitude through the damp clothes, there he stood still. ever since he had come in at the gate annoyance and vexation had been stamped on his countenance, but now his large mouth spread into a smile, and he called to the prefect in an undertone: "titianus, just take the trouble to come here." the elderly dignitary, whose tall figure exceeded that of the architect in height by a full head, did not find it quite so easy to pass under the ropes with his head bent down; but he did it with good humor, and while carefully avoiding pulling down the wet linen, he called out: "i am beginning to feel some respect for children's shirts; one can at any rate get through them without breaking one's spine. oh! this is delicious--quite delicious!" this exclamation was caused by the sight which the architect had invited the prefect to come and enjoy, and which was certainly droll enough. the front of the gate-keeper's house was quite grown over with ivy which framed the door and window in its long runners. amidst the greenery hung numbers of cages with starlings, blackbirds, and smaller singing-birds. the wide door of the little house stood open, giving a view into a tolerably spacious and gaily-painted room. in the background stood a clay model of an apollo of admirable workmanship; above, and near this, the wall was hung with lutes and lyres of various size and form. in the middle of the room, and near the open door, was a table, on which stood a large wicker cage containing several nests of young goldfinches, and with green food twined among the osiers. there were, too, a large wine-jar and an ivory goblet decorated with fine carving. close to the drinking-vessels, on the stone top of the table, rested the arm of an elderly woman who had fallen asleep in the arm-chair in which she sat. notwithstanding the faint grey moustache that marked her upper-lip and the pronounced ruddiness of her fore head and cheeks, she looked pleasant and kind. she must have been dreaming of something that pleased her, for the expression of her lips and of her eyes-one being half open and the other closely shut-gave her a look of contentment. in her lap slept a large grey cat, and by its side--as though discord never could enter this bright little abode which exhaled no savor of poverty, but, on the contrary, a peculiar and fragrant scent--lay a small shaggy dog, whose snowy whiteness of coat could only be due to the most constant care. two other dogs, like this one, lay stretched on the floor at the old lady's feet, and seemed no less soundly asleep. as the prefect came up, the architect pointed to this study of stilllife, and said in a whisper: "if we had a painter here it would make a lovely little picture." "incomparable," answered titianus, "only the vivid scarlet on the dame's cheeks seems to me suspicious, considering the ample proportions of the wine-jar at her elbow." "but did you ever see a calmer, kindlier, or more contented countenance?" "baucis must have slept like that when philemon allowed himself leave of absence for once! or did that devoted spouse always remain at home?" "apparently he did. now, peace is at an end." the approach of the two friends had waked one of the little dogs. he gave tongue, and his companion immediately jumped up and barked as if for a wager. the old woman's pet sprang out of her lap, but neither his mistress nor the cat let themselves be disturbed by the noise, and slept on. "a watcher among a thousand!" said the architect, laughing. "and this phalanx of dogs which guard the palace of a caesar," added titianus, "might be vanquished with a blow. take heed, the worthy matron is about to wake." the dame had in fact been disturbed by the barking. she sat up a little, lifted her hands, and then, half singing, half muttering a few words, she sank back again in her chair. "this is delicious!" cried the prefect. "begone dull care" she sang in her sleep. "how may this rare specimen of humanity look when she is awake?" "i should be sorry to drive the old lady out of her nest!" said the architect unrolling his scroll. "you shall touch nothing in the little house," cried the prefect eagerly. "i know hadrian; he delights in such queer things and queer people, and i will wager he will make friends with the old woman in his own way. here at last comes the steward of this palace." the prefect was not mistaken; the hasty step he had heard was that of the official they awaited. at some little distance they could already hear the man, panting as he hurried up, and as he came, before titianus could prevent him, he had snatched down the cords that were stretched across the court and flung all the washing on the ground. as soon as the curtain had thus dropped which had divided him from the emperor's representative and his companion, he bowed to the former as low as the rotund dimensions of his person would allow; but his hasty arrival, the effort of strength he had made, and his astonishment at the appearance of the most powerful personage in the nile province in the building entrusted to his care, so utterly took away his breath--of which he at all times was but "scant"--that he was unable even to stammer out a suitable greeting. titianus gave him a little time, and then, after expressing his regret at the sad plight of the washing, now strewn upon the ground, and mentioning to the steward the name and position of his friend pontius, he briefly explained to him that the emperor wished to take up his abode in the palace now in his charge; that he--titianus--was cognizant of the bad condition in which it then was, and had come to take council with him and the architect as to what could be done in the course of a few days to make the dilapidated residence habitable for hadrian, and to repair, at any rate, the more conspicuous damage. he then desired the steward to lead him through the rooms. "directly--at once," answered the greek, who had attained his present ponderous dimensions through many years of rest: "i will hasten to fetch the keys." and as he went, puffing and panting, he re-arranged with his short, fat fingers the still abundant hair on the right side of his head. pontius looked after him. "call him back, titianus," said he. "we disturbed him in the midst of curling his hair; only one side was done when the lictor called him away, and i will wager my own head that he will have the other side frizzled before he comes back. i know your true greek!" "well, let him," answered titianus. "if you have taken his measure rightly he will not be able to give his attention without reserve to our questions till the other half of his hair is curled. i know, too, how to deal with a hellene." "better than i, i perceive," said the architect in a tone of conviction. "a statesman is used to deal with men as we do with lifeless materials. did you see the fat fellow turn pale when you said that it would be but a few days before the emperor would make his entry here? things must look well in the old house there. every hour is precious, and we have lingered here too long." the prefect nodded agreement and followed the architect into the inner court of the palace. how grand and well-proportioned was the plan of this immense building through which the steward keraunus, who returned with his fine curls complete all round, now led the romans. it stood on an artificial hill in the midst of the peninsula of lochias, and from many a window and many a balcony there were lovely prospects of the streets and open squares, the houses, palaces and public buildings of the metropolis, and of the harbor, swarming with ships. the outlook from lochias was rich, gay and varied to the south and west, but east and north from the platform of the palace of the ptolemies, the gaze fell on the never-wearying prospect of the eternal sea, limited only by the vault of heaven. when hadrian had sent a special messenger from mount kasius to desire his prefect titianus to have this particular building prepared for his reception, he knew full well what advantages its position offered; it was the part of his officials to restore order in the interior of the palace, which had remained uninhabited from the time of cleopatra's downfall. he gave them for the purpose eight, or perhaps nine, days--little more than a week. and in what a condition did titianus and pontius find this now dilapidated and plundered scene of former magnificence--the sweat pouring from their foreheads with their exertions as they inspected and sketched, questioned and made notes of it all. the pillars and steps in the interior were tolerably well preserved, but the rain had poured in through the open roofs of the banqueting and reception-lulls, the fine mosaic pavements had started here and there, and in other places a perfect little meadow had grown in the midst of a hall, or an arcade; for octavianus augustus, tiberius, vespasian, titus and a whole series of prefects, had already carefully removed the finest of the mosaics from the famous palace of the ptolemies, and carried them to rome or to the provinces, to decorate their town houses or country villas. in the same way the best of the statues were gone, with which a few centuries previously the art-loving lagides had decorated this residence--besides which they had another, still larger, on the bruchiom. in the midst of a vast marbled hall stood an elegantly-wrought fountain, connected with the fine aqueduct of the city. a draught of air rushed through this hall, and in stormy weather switched the water all over the floor, now robbed of its mosaics, and covered, wherever the foot could tread, with a thin, dark green, damp and slippery coating of mossy plants and slime. it was here that keraunus leaned breathless against the wall, and, wiping his brow, panted rather than said: "at last, this is the end!" the words sounded as if he meant his own end and not that of their excursion through the palace, and it seemed like a mockery of the man himself when pontius unhesitatingly replied with decision: "good, then we can begin our re-examination here, at once." keraunus did not contradict him, but, as he remembered the number of stairs to be climbed over again, he looked as if sentence of death had been passed upon him. "is it necessary that i should remain with you during the rest of your labors, which must be principally directed to details?" asked the prefect of the architect. "no," answered pontius, "provided you will take the trouble to look at once at my plan, so as to inform yourself on the whole of what i propose, and to give me full powers to dispose of men and means in each case as it arises." "that is granted," said titianus. "i know that pontius will not demand a man or a sesterce more or less than is needed for the purpose." the architect bowed in silence and titianus went on. "but above all things, do you think you can accomplish your task in eight days and nine nights?" "possibly, at a pinch; and if i could only have four days more at my disposal, most probably." "then all that is needed is to delay hadrian's arrival by four days and nights." "send some interesting people--say the astronomer ptolemaeus, and favorinus, the sophist, who await him here--to meet him at pelusium. they will find some way of detaining him there." "not a bad idea! we will see. but who can reckon on the empress's moods? at any rate, consider that you have only eight days to dispose of." "good." "where do you hope to be able to lodge hadrian?" "well, a very small portion of the old building is, strictly speaking, fit to use." "of that, i regret to say, i have fully convinced myself," said the prefect emphatically, and turning to the steward, he went on in a tone less of stern reproof than of regret. "it seems to me, keraunus, that it would have been your duty to inform me earlier of the ruinous condition of the building." "i have already lodged a complaint," replied the man, "but i was told in answer to my report that there were no means to apply to the purpose." "i know nothing of these things," cried titianus. "when did you forward your petition to the prefect's office?" "under your predecessor, haterius nepos." "indeed," said the prefect with a drawl. "so long ago. then, in your place, i should have repeated my application every year, without any reference to the appointment of a new prefect. however, we have now no time for talking. during the emperor's residence here, i shall very likely send one of my subordinates to assist you!" titianus turned his back on the steward, and asked the architect: "well, my good pontius, what part of the palace have you your eye upon?" "the inner halls and rooms are in the best repair." "but they are the last that can be thought of," cried titianus. "the emperor is satisfied with everything in camp, but where fresh air and a distant prospect are to be had, he must have them." "then let us choose the western suite; hold the plan my worthy friend." the steward slid as he was desired, the architect took his pencil and made a vigorous line in the air above the left side of the sketch, saying: "this is the west front of the palace which you see from the harbor. from the south you first come into the lofty peristyle, which may be used as an antechamber; it is surrounded with rooms for the slaves and bodyguard. the next smaller sitting-rooms by the side of the main corridor we may assign to the officers and scribes, in this spacious hypaethral hall--the one with the muses--hadrian may give audience and the guests may assemble there whom he may admit to eat at his table in this broad peristyle. the smaller and well-preserved rooms, along this long passage leading to the steward's house, will do for the pages, secretaries and other attendants on caesar's person, and this long saloon, lined with fine porphyry and green marble, and adorned with the beautiful frieze in bronze will, i fancy, please hadrian as a study and private sitting-room." "admirable!" cried titianus, "i should like to show your plan to the empress." "in that case, instead of eight days i must have as many weeks," said pontius coolly. "that is true," answered the prefect laughing. "but tell me, keraunus, how comes it that the doors are wanting to all the best rooms?" "they were of fine thyra wood, and they were wanted in rome." "i must have seen one or another of them there," muttered the prefect. "your cabinet-workers will have a busy time, pontius." "nay, the hanging-makers may be glad; wherever we can we will close the door-ways with heavy curtains." "and what will you do with this damp abode of fogs, which, if i mistake not, must adjoin the dining-hall?" "we will turn it into a garden filled with ornamental foliage." "that is quite admissable--and the broken statues?" "we will get rid of the worst." the apollo and the nine muses stand in the room you intend for an audience-hall--do they not?" "yes." "they are in fairly good condition, i think." "urania is wanting entirely," said the steward, who was still holding the plan out in front of him. "and what became of her?" asked titianus, not without excitement. "your predecessor, the prefect haterius nepos, took a particular fancy to it and carried it with him to rome." "why urania of all others?" cried titianus angrily. she, above all, ought not to be missing from the hall of audience of caesar the pontiff of heaven! what is to be done?" "it will be difficult to find an urania ready-made as tall as her sisters, and we have no time to search one out, a new one must be made." "in eight days?" "and eight nights." "but my good friend, only to get the marble--" "who thinks of marble? papias will make us one of straw, rags and gypsum--i know his magic hand--and in order that the others may not be too unlike their new-born sister they shall be whitewashed." "capital--but why choose papias when we have harmodius?" "harmodius takes art in earnest, and we should have the emperor here before he had completed his sketches. papias works with thirty assistants at anything that is ordered of him, so long as it brings him money. his last things certainly amaze me, particularly the hygyeia for dositheus the jew, and the bust of plutarch put up in the caesareum. they are full of grace and power. but who can distinguish what is his work and what that of his scholars? enough, he knows how things should be done; and if a good sum is to be got by it he will hew you out a whole sea-fight in marble in five days." "then give papias the commission but the hapless mutilated pavementswhat will you do with them?" "gypsum and paint must mend them," said pontius, "and where that will not do, we must lay carpets on the floor in the eastern fashion. merciful night! how dark it is growing; give me the plan keraunus and provide us with torches and lamps for to-day, and the next following ones must have twenty-four hours apiece, full measure. i must ask you for half a dozen trustworthy slaves titianus; i shall want them for messengers. what are you standing there for man? lights, i said. you have had half a lifetime to rest in, and when caesar is gone you will have as many more years for the same laudable purpose--" as he spoke the steward had silently gone off, but the architect did not spare him the end of the sentence; he shouted after him: "unless by that time you are smothered in your own fat. is it nile-mud or blood that runs in that huge mortal's veins?" "i am sure i do not care," said the prefect, "so long as the glorious fire that flows in yours only holds out till the work is done. do not allow yourself to be overworked at first, nor require the impossible of your strength, for rome and the world still expect great things of you. i can now write in perfect security to the emperor that all will be ready for him in lochias, and as a farewell speech, i can only say, it is folly to be discouraged if only pontius is at hand to support and assist me." chapter iii. the prefect ordered the lictors, who were awaiting him with his chariot, to hasten to his house, and to conduct to pontius several most worthy slaves, familiar with alexandria--some of whom he named--and at the same time to send the architect a good couch with pillows and coverlets, and to despatch a good meal and fine wine to the old palace at lochias. then he mounted his chariot and drove through the bruchiom along the shore to the great edifice known as the caesareum. he got on but slowly, for the nearer he approached his destination the denser was the crowd of inquisitive citizens, who stood closely packed round the vast circumference of the building. quite from a distance the prefect could see a bright light; it rose to heaven from the large pans of pitch which were placed on the towers on each side of the tall gate of the caesareum which faced the sea. to the right and left of this gate stood a tall obelisk, and on each of these, men were lighting lamps which had been attached to the sides and placed on the top, on the previous day. "in honor of sabina," said the prefect to himself. "all that this pontius does is thoroughly done, and there is no more complete sinecure than the supervision of his arrangements." fully persuaded of this he did not think it necessary to go up to the illuminated door-way which led into the temple erected by octavian in honor of julius caesar; on the contrary, he directed the charioteer to stop at a door built in the egyptian style, which faced the garden of the palace of the ptolemies, and which led to the imperial residence that had been built by the alexandrians for tiberius, and had been greatly extended and beautified under the later caesars. a sacred grove divided it from the temple of caesar, with which it communicated by a covered colonnade. before this door there were several chariots and horses, and a whole host of slaves, black and white, were in attendance with their masters' litters. here lictors kept back the sight-seeking crowd, officers were lounging against the pillars, and the roman guard were just assembling with a clatter of arms, to the sound of a trumpet within the door, to await their dismissal. everything gave way respectfully before the chariot of the prefect, and as titianus walked through the illuminated arcades of the caesareum, passing by the masterpieces of statuary placed there, and the rows of pictures--and reached the halls in which the library of the palace was kept, he could not help thinking of all the care and trouble which with the assistance of pontius, he had for months devoted to rendering this palace which had not been used since titus had set out for judaea, fit quarters for hadrian's reception. the empress now lived in the rooms intended for her husband, and decorated with the choicest works of art, and titianus reflected with regret that, after sabina had once become aware of their presence there, it would be quite impossible to transfer them to lochias. at the door of the splendid room which he had intended for hadrian he was met by sabina's chamberlain who undertook to conduct him at once into the presence of his mistress. the roof of the hall in which the prefect found the empress, in summer was open to the sky; but at this season was suitably covered in by a movable copper roof, partly to keep off the rain of the alexandrian winter, and partly too because, even in the warmer season sabina was wont to complain of cold; but beneath it a wide opening allowed the air free entrance and exit. as titianus entered the room a comfortable warmth and subtle perfume met his senses; the warmth was produced by stoves of a peculiar form standing in the middle of the room; one of these represented vulcan's forge. brightly glowing charcoal lay in front of the bellows which were worked by an automaton, at short regular intervals, while the god and his assistants modelled in brass, stood round the genial fire with tongs and hammers. the other stove was a large silver bird's-nest, in which likewise charcoal was burning. above the glowing fuel a phoenix, also in brass, and in the likeness of an eagle, seemed striving to soar heavenwards. besides these a number of lamps lighted the saloon, which in truth looked too large for the number of people assembled in it, and which was lavishly furnished with gracefully-formed seats, couches, and tables, vases of flowers and statues. the prefect and pontius had intended a quite different room to serve for smaller assemblies, and had fitted it up suitably for the purpose, but the empress had preferred the great hall to the smaller room. the venerable and nobly-born statesman was filled with vexation, nay, with an embarrassment that made him feel estranged, when he had to glance round the room to find the persons in it, collected, as they were, into small knots. he could hear nothing but hushed voices; here an unintelligible murmur and there a suppressed laugh, but from no one a frank speech or full utterance. for a moment he felt as if he had found admittance to the abode of whispering calumny, and yet he knew why here no one dared to speak out or above a murmur. loud voices hurt the empress, and a clear voice was a misery to her, and yet few men possessed so loud and penetrating a chest voice as her husband, who was not wont to lay restraint upon himself for any human being, not even for his wife. sabina sat on a large divan, more like a couch than a chair; her feet were buried in the shaggy fell of a buffalo, and her knees and ankles wrapped round with down-cushions covered with silk. her head she held very upright, and it was difficult to imagine how her slender throat could support it, loaded as it was with strings of pearls and precious stones which were braided in the tall structure of her reddish-gold hair, that was arranged in long cylindrical curls pinned closely side by side. the empress's thin face looked particularly small under the mass of natural and artificial adornment which towered above her brow. beautiful she could never have been, even in her youth, but her features were regular, and the prefect confessed to himself as he looked at sabina's face, marked as it was with minute wrinkles and touched up with red and white, that the sculptor who a few years previously had been commissioned to represent her as 'venus victrix' might very well have given the goddess a certain amount of resemblance to the imperial model. if only her eyes, which were absolutely bereft of lashes, had not been quite so small and keen--in spite of the dark lines painted round them--and if only the sinews in her throat had not stood out quite so conspicuously from the flesh which formerly had covered them! with a deep bow titianus took the empress's right hand, covered with rings; but she withdrew it quickly from that of her husband's friend and relative, as if she feared that the carefully-cherished limb--useless as it was for any practical purpose, a mere toy among hands--might suffer some injury, and wrapped it and her arm in her upper-robe. but she returned the prefect's friendly greeting with all the warmth at her command. though formerly at rome she had been accustomed to see titianus every day at her house, this was their first meeting in alexandria; for the previous day, exhausted by the sufferings of her sea-voyage, she had been carried in a closed litter to the caesareum, and this morning she had declined to receive his visit, as her whole time was given up to her physicians, bathing-women, and coiffeurs. "how can you survive in this country?" she said in a low but harsh voice, which always made the hearer feel that it was that of a dull, fractious, childless woman. "at noon the sun burns you up, and in the evening it is so cold--so intolerably cold!' as she spoke she drew her robe closer round her, but titianus, pointing to the stoves in the middle of the hall, said: "i hoped we had succeeded in cutting the bowstrings of the egyptian winter, and it is but a feeble weapon." "still young, still imaginative, still a poet!" said the empress wearily. "i saw your wife a couple of hours since. africa seems to suit her less well; i was shocked to see julia, the handsome matron, so altered. she does not look well." "years are the foe of beauty." "frequently they are, but true beauty often resists their attacks." "you are yourself the living proof of your assertion." "that is as much as to say that i am growing old." "nay--only that you know the secret of remaining beautiful." "you are a poet!" murmured the empress with a twitch of her thin under-lip. "affairs of state do not favor the muses." "but i call any man a poet who sees things more beautiful than they are, or who gives them finer names than they deserve--a poet, a dreamer, a flatterer--for it comes to that." "ah! modesty can always find words to repel even well-merited admiration." "why this foolish bandying of words?" sighed sabina, flinging herself back in her chair. "you have been to school under the hair-splitting logicians in the museum here, and i have not. over there sits favorinus, the sophist; i dare say he is proving to ptolemaeus that the stars are mere specks of blood in our eyes, which we choose to believe are in the sky. florus, the historian, is taking note of this weighty discussion; pancrates, the poet, is celebrating the great thoughts of the philosopher. as to what part the philologist there can find to take in this important event you know better than i. what is the man's name?" "apollonius." "hadrian has nick-named him 'the obscure.' the more difficult it is to understand the discourses of these gentlemen the more highly are they esteemed." "one must dive to obtain what lies at the bottom of the water--all that floats on the surface is borne by the waves, a plaything for children. apollonius is a very learned man." "then my husband ought to leave him among his disciples and his books. it was his wish that i should invite these people to my table. florus and pancrates i like--not the others." "i can easily relieve you of the company of favorinus and ptolemaeus; send them to meet the emperor." "to what end?" "to entertain him." "he has his plaything with him," said sabina, and her thin lips curled with an expression of bitter contempt. "his artistic eye delights in the beauty of antinous, which is celebrated, but which it has not yet been my privilege to see." "and you are very anxious to see this marvel?" "i cannot deny it." "and yet you want to postpone your meeting with caesar?" said sabina, and a keen glance of inquiry and distrust twinkled in her little eyes. "why do you want to delay my husband's arrival?" "need i tell you," said titianus eagerly, "how greatly i shall rejoice to see once more my sovereign, the companion of my youth, the greatest and wisest of men, after a separation of four years? what would i not give if he were here already! and yet i would rather that he should arrive in fourteen days than in eight." "what reason can you have?" "a mounted messenger brought me a letter to-day in which the emperor tells me that he proposes to inhabit the old palace at lochias, and not the caesareum." at these words sabina's forehead clouded, her gaze, dark and blank, was fixed on her lap, and biting her under-lip, she muttered: "because i am here." titianus made as though he had not heard these words, and continued in an easy tone: "there he has a wide outlook into the distance, which is what he has loved from his youth up. but the old building is much dilapidated, and though i have already begun to exert all the forces at my command, with the assistance of our admirable architect, pontius, to restore a portion of it at any rate, and make it a habitable and not too uncomfortable residence, the time is too short to do anything thoroughly worthy--" "i wish to see my husband here, and the sooner the better," interrupted the empress with decision. then she turned towards the row of pillars which stood by the right-hand wall of the hall, and which were at some distance from her couch, calling out "verus." but her voice was so weak that it did not reach the person addressed, so turning to the prefect, she said: "i beg of you to call verus to me, the praetor lucius aurelius verus." titianus immediately obeyed. as he entered the hall he had already exchanged friendly greetings with the man to whom the empress wished to speak. he now did not succeed in attracting his attention till he stood close at his elbow, for he formed the centre of a small group of men and women who were hanging on his words. what he was saying in a subdued voice must have been extraordinarily diverting, for it could be seen that his hearers were making the greatest efforts to keep their suppressed laughter from breaking out into a shout that would shake the very hall, a noise the empress detested. when the prefect came up to verus, a young girl, whose pretty head was crowned by a perfect thicket of little ringlets, was just laying her hand on his arm and saying: "nay-that is too much; if you go on like this, for the future whenever you speak i shall stop my ears with my hands, as sure as my name is balbilla." "and as sure as you are descended from king antiochus," added verus bowing. "always the same," laughed the prefect, nodding to the audacious jester. "sabina wants to speak to you." "directly, directly," said verus. "my story is a true one, and you all ought to be grateful to me for having released you from that tedious philologer who has now button-holed my witty friend favorinus. i like your alexandria, titianus; still it is not a great capital like rome. the people have not yet learned not to be astonished; they are perpetually in amazement. when i go out driving--" "your runners ought to fly before you with roses in their hair and wings on their shoulders like cupids." "in honor of the alexandrian ladies?" "as if the roman ladies in rome, and the fair greeks at athens," interrupted balbilla. "the praetor's runners go faster than parthian horses," cried the empress's chamberlain. "he has named them after the winds." "as they deserve," added verus "come, titianus." he laid his hand in a confidential manner on the arm of the prefect, to whom he was related; and as they went towards sabina he whispered in his ear: "i can keep her waiting as if i were the emperor." favorinus who had been engaged in talk with ptolemaeus, the astronomer, apollonius, and the philosopher and poet pancrates in another part of the hall, looked after the two men and said: "a handsome couple. one the personification of imperial and dignified rome; the other with his hermes-like figure." "the other"--interrupted the philologist with stern displeasure, "the other is the very incarnation of the haughtiness, the luxury pushed to insanity, and the infamous depravity of the metropolis. that dissipated ladies-man." "i will not defend his character," said favorinus in his pleasant voice, and with an elegance in his pronunciation of greek which delighted even the grammarian. "his ways and doings are disgraceful; still you must allow that his manners are tinged with the charm of hellenic beauty, that the charites kissed him at his birth, and though, by the stern laws of virtue we must condemn him, he deserves to be crowned with praise and garlands from the point of view of the feeling for beauty." "oh! for the artist who wants a model he is a choice morsel." "the athenian judges acquitted phryne because she was beautiful." "they did wrong." "hardly in the eyes of the gods, whose fairest works must deserve our respect." "still poison may be kept in the most beautiful vessels." "and yet body and soul always to a certain extent correspond." "and can you dare to call the handsome verus the admirable verus?" "no, but the reckless lucius aurelius verus is at the same time the gayest and pleasantest of all the romans, free alike from spite or carefulness, he troubles himself with no doctrines of virtue, and as when a thing pleases him, he desires to possess it, he endeavors to give pleasure to every one else." "he has wasted his pains so far as i am concerned." "i do as he wishes." the last words both of the philologer and the sophist were spoken somewhat louder than was usual in the presence of the empress. sabina, who had just told the praetor which residence her husband had decided on inhabiting, drew up her shoulders and pinched her lips as if in pain, while verus turned a face of indignation--a face which was manly in spite of all the delicacy and regularity of the features--on the two speakers, and his fine bright eyes caught the hostile glance of apollonius. an intimation of aversion to his person was one of the things which to him were past endurance; he hastily passed his hand through his blueblack hair, which was only slightly grizzled at the temples and flowed uncurled, but in soft waving locks round his head, and said, not heeding sabina's question as to his opinion of her husband's latest instructions: "he is a repulsive fellow, that wrangling logician; he has an evil eye that threatens mischief to us all, and his trumpet voice cannot hurt you more than it does me. must we endure him at table with us every day?" "so hadrian desires." "then i shall start for rome," said verus decidedly. "my wife wants to be back with her children, and as praetor, it is more fitting that i should stay by the tiber than by the nile." the words were spoken as lightly as though they were nothing more than a proposition to go to supper, but they seemed to agitate the empress deeply, for her head, which had seemed almost a fixture during her conversation with titianus, now shook so violently that the pearls and jewels rattled in the erection of curls. there she sat for some seconds staring into her lap. verus stooped to pick up a gem that had fallen from her hair, and as he did so she said hastily: "you are right. apollonius is intolerable. let us send him to meet my husband." "then i will remain," answered verus, as pleased as a wilful boy who has got his own way. "fickle as the wind," murmured sabina, threatening him with her finger. "show me the stone--it is one of the largest and finest; you may keep it." when an hour later, verus quitted the hall with the prefect, titianus said: "you have done me a service cousin, without knowing it. now can you contrive that ptolemaeus and favorinus shall go with apollonius to meet the emperor at pelusium?" "nothing easier" was the answer. and the same evening the prefect's steward conveyed to pontius the information that he might count on having probably fourteen days for his work, instead of eight or nine only. chapter iv. in the caesareum, where the empress dwelt, the lights were extinguished one after another; but in the palace of lochias they grew more numerous and brighter. in festal illuminations of the harbor pitch cressets on the roof, and long rows of lamps that accumulated architectonic features of the noble structure, were always kindled; but inside it, no blaze so brilliant had ever lighted it within the memory of man. the harbor watchmen at first gazed anxiously up at lochias, for they feared that a fire must have broken out in the old palace; they were soon reassured however, by one of the prefect's lictors, who brought them a command to keep open the harbor gates that night, and every night till the emperor should have arrived, to all who might wish to proceed from lochias to the city, or from the city to the peninsula, under the orders of pontius the architect. and till long past midnight not a quarter of an hour passed in which the people whom the architect had summoned to his aid were not knocking at the harbor gates, which, though not locked were all guarded. the little house belonging to the gate-keeper was also brightly lighted up; the birds and cats belonging to the old woman whom the prefect and his companions had found slumbering by her wine-jar, were now fast asleep, but the little dogs still flew loudly yelping into the yard each time a new-comer entered by the open gate. "come, aglaia, what will folks think of you? thalia, my beauty, behave like a good dog; come here, euphrosyne, and don't be so silly!" cried the old lady in a voice which was both pleasant and peremptory, as she stood-wide awake now-behind her table, folding together the dried clothes. the little barking beasts who were thus endowed with the names of the three graces did not trouble themselves much about her affectionate admonitions; to their sorrow, for it happened more than once to each of them, when they had got under the feet of some new-comer, to creep, whining and howling, into the house again to seek consolation from their mistress, who would pick up the sufferer and soothe it with kisses and coaxing. the old lady was no longer alone, for in the background, on a long and narrow couch which stood in front of the statue of apollo, lay a tall, lean man, wearing a red chiton. a little lamp hanging from the ceiling threw a dull light on him and on the lute he was playing. to the faint sound of the instrument, which was rather a large one, and which he had propped on the pillow by his side, he was singing, or rather murmuring a long ditty. twice, thrice, four times he repeated it in the same way. now and again he suddenly let his voice sound more loudly--and though his hair was quite grey his voice was not unpleasing--and sang a few phrases full of expression and with artistic delivery; and then, when the dogs barked too vehemently, he would spring up, and with his lute in his lefthand and a long pliable rattan in his right, he would rush into the court-yard, shout the names of the dogs, and raise his cane as if he would kill them; but he always took care not to hit them, only to beat on the pavement near them. when, returning from such an excursion, he stretched himself again on his couch, the old woman, pointing to the hanging-lamp which the impatient creature often knocked with his head, would call out, "euphorion, mind the oil." and he each time answered with the same threatening gesture and the same glare in his black eyes: "the little brutes!" the singer had been diligently practising his musical exercises for about an hour, when the dogs rushed into the court-yard, not barking this time, but yelping loudly with joy. the old woman laid aside the washing and listened, but the tall man said: "as many birds come flying before the emperor as gulls before a storm. if only they would leave us in peace--" "hark, that is pollux; i know by the dogs," said the woman, hastening as fast as she could over the threshold and out to meet him. but the expected visitor was already at the door. he picked up the three fourfooted graces who leaped round him, one after the other by the skin of the neck, and gave each a tap on its nose. then, seeing the old woman, he took her head between his hands, and kissed her forehead, saying, "good-evening, little mother," and shook hands with the singer, adding, "how are you, great, big father?" "you are as big as i am," replied the man thus addressed, and he drew the younger man towards him, and laid one of his broad hands on his own grey head and the other on that of his first-born, with its wealth of brown hair. "as if we were cast in the same mould," cried the youth; and in fact he was very like his father--like, no doubt, as a noble hunter is like a worn-out hack--as marble is like limestone--as a cedar is like a firtree. both were remarkably tall, had thick hair, dark eyes, and strongly aquiline noses, exactly of the same shape; but the cheerful brightness which irradiated the countenance of the youth had certainly not been inherited from the lute-player, but from the little woman who looked up into his face and patted his arm. but whence did he derive the powerful, but indescribable something which gave nobility to his head, and of which it was impossible to say whether it lay in his eye, or in the lofty brow, arched so differently to that of either parent? "i knew you would come," cried his mother. "this afternoon i dreamed it, and i can prove that i expected you, for there, on the brazier, stands the stewed cabbage and sausage waiting for you." "i cannot stay now," replied pollux. "really, i cannot, though your kind looks would persuade me, and the sausage winks at me out of the cabbagepan. my master, papias, is gone on ahead, and in the palace there we are to work wonders in less time than it generally takes to consider which end the work should be begun at." "then i will carry the cabbage into the palace for you," said doris, standing on tip-toe to hold a sausage to the lips of her tall son. pollux bit off a large mouthful and said, as he munched it: "excellent! i only wish that the thing i am to construct up there may turn out as good a statue as this savory cylinder--now fast disappearing --was a superior and admirable sausage." "have another?" said doris. "no mother; and you must not bring the cabbage either. up to midnight not a minute must be lost, and if i then leave off for a little while you must by that time be dreaming of all sorts of pleasant things." "i will carry you the cabbage then," said his father, "for i shall not be in bed so early at any rate. the hymn to sabina, composed by mesomedes, is to be performed with the chorus, as soon as the empress visits the theatre, and i am to lead the upper part of the old men, who grow young again at the sight of her. the rehearsal is fixed for to-morrow, and i know nothing about it yet. old music, note for note, is ready and safe in my throat, but new things--new things!" "it is according to circumstances," said pollux, laughing. "if only they would perform your father's satyr-play, or his theseus!" cried doris. "only wait a little, i will recommend him to caesar as soon as he is proud to call me his friend, as the phidias of the age. then, when he asks me 'who is the happy man who begot you?' i will answer: it is euphorion, the divine poet and singer; and my mother, too, is a worthy matron, the gate-keeper of your palace, doris, the enchantress, who turns dingy clothes into snow-white linen." these last words the young artist sang in a fine and powerful voice to a mode invented by his father. "if only you had been a singer!" exclaimed euphorion. "then i should have enjoyed the prospect," retorted pollux, "of spending the evening of my life as your successor in this little abode." "and now for wretched pay, you plant the laurels with which papias crowns himself!" answered the old man shrugging his shoulders. "his hour is coming, too," cried doris, "his merit will be recognized; i saw him in my dreams, with a great garland on his curly head!" "patience, father-patience," said the young man, grasping his father's hand. "i am young and strong, and do all i can. here, behind this forehead, good ideas are seething; what i have succeeded in carrying out by myself, has at any rate brought credit and fame to others, although it is all far from resembling the ideal of beauty that here--here--i seem to see far away and behind a cloud; still i feel that if, in a moment of kindness, fortune will but shed a few fresh drops of dew on it all i shall, at any rate, turn out something better than the mere ill-paid right-hand of papias, who, without me does not know what he ought to do, or how to do it." "only keep your eyes open and work hard," cried doris. "it is of no use without luck," muttered the singer, shrugging his shoulders. the young artist bid his parents good-night, and was about to leave, but his mother detained him to show him the young goldfinches, hatched only the day before. pollux obeyed her wish, not merely to please her, but because he liked to watch the gay little bird that sat warming and sheltering her nestlings. close to the cage stood the huge wine-jar and his mother's cup, decorated by his own hand. his eye fell on these, and he pushed them aside in silence. then, taking courage, he said, laughing: "the emperor will often pass by here, mother; give up celebrating your dionysiac festival. how would it do if you filled the jar with one-fourth wine and three-fourths water? it does not taste badly." "spoiling good gifts," replied his mother. "one-fourth wine-to please me," pollux entreated, taking his mother by the shoulders and kissing her forehead. "to please you, you great boy!" said doris, as her eyes filled with tears. "why for you, if i must, i would drink nothing but wretched water. euphorion you may finish what is left in the jar presently." ......................... pontius had already begun his labors, at first with aid only of his assistants who had followed him on foot. measuring, estimating, sending short notes and writing figures, names and suggestions on the plan, and on his folding wax-tablets, he was not idle for an instant, though frequently interrupted by the appointed superintendents of the workshops and manufactures in lochias, whose co-operation he required. they only came at this late hour because they were called upon by the prefect's orders. papias, the sculptor, introduced himself among the latest, though pontius had written to him with his own hand that he had to communicate to him a very remunerative and particularly pressing commission for the emperor, which might, perhaps, be taken in hand that very night. the matter in question was a statue of urania, which must be completed in eight days by the same method which papias had introduced at the last festival of adonis, and to the scale which he, pontius, indicated, in the palace of lochias itself. with regard to several works of restoration which had to be carried out with equal rapidity, and as to the price to be paid, they could agree at the same time and place. the sculptor was a man of foresight and did not appear on the scene alone but with his best assistant, pollux, the son of the worthy couple at the gate, and several slaves who dragged after him sundry trunks and carts loaded with tools, boards, clay, gypsum and other raw materials of his art. on the road to lochias he had informed the young sculptor of the business in hand, and had told him in a condescending tone that he would be permitted to try his skill in reconstructing the urania. at the gate he had permitted pollux to greet his parents, and had gone alone into the palace to open his bargain with the architect without the presence of witnesses. the young artist perfectly understood his master. he knew that he would be expected to carry out the statue of urania, while his task-master, after making some trifling alterations in the completed work, would declare that it was his own. pollux had for two years been obliged, more than once, to put up with similar treatment; and now, as usual, he submitted to this dishonest manoeuvre because, under his master there was plenty to do, and the delight of work was to him the greatest he could have. papias, to whom he had gone early as an apprentice and to whom he owed the knowledge he possessed, was no miser, still pollux needed money, not for himself alone but because he had taken on himself the charge of a widowed sister and her children as if they were his own family. he was always glad to take some comfort into the narrow home of his parents, who were poor, and to maintain his younger brother teuker--who had devoted himself to the same art--during the years of his apprenticeship. again and again he had thought of telling his master that he should start on his own footing and earn laurels for himself, but what then would become of those who relied on his help, if he gave up his regular earnings and if he got no commissions when there were so many unknown beginners eager for them? of what avail were all his ability and the most honest goodwill if no opportunity offered for his executing his work in noble materials? with his own means he certainly was in no position to do so. while he was talking to his parents papias had opened his transactions with the architect. pontius explained to the sculptor what was required and papias listened attentively; he never interrupted the speaker, but only stroked his face from time to time, as if to make it smoother than it was already, though it was shaved with peculiar care and formed and colored like a warm mask; meanwhile draping the front of his rich blue toga, which he wore in the fashion of a roman senator, into fresh folds. but when pontius showed him, at the end of the rooms destined for the emperor, the last of the statues to be restored, and which needed a new grin, papias said decisively: "it cannot be done." "that is a rash verdict," replied the architect. "do you not know the proverb, which, being such a good one, is said to have been first uttered by more than one sage: 'that it shows more ill-judgment to pronounce a thing impossible than to boast that we can achieve a task however much it may seem to transcend our powers.'" papias smiled and looked down at his gold-embroidered shoes as he said: "it is more difficult to us sculptors to imagine ourselves waging titanic warfare against the impossible, than it is to you who work with enormous masses. i do not yet see the means which would give me courage to begin the attack." "i will tell you," replied pontius quickly and decidedly. "on your side good-will, plenty of assistants and night-watchers; on ours, the caesar's approval and plenty of gold." after this the transaction came to a prompt and favorable issue, and the architect could but express his entire approbation, in most cases, of the sculptor's judicious and well-considered suggestions. "now i must go home," concluded papias. "my assistants will proceed at once with the necessary preparations. the work must be carried on behind screens, so that no one may disturb us or hinder us with remarks." half an hour later a scaffolding was already erected in the middle of the hall where the urania was to stand. it was concealed from; public gaze by thick linen stretched on tall wooden frames, and behind these screens pollux was busied in framing a small model in wax, while his master had returned home to make arrangements for the labors of the following day. it wanted only an hour of midnight, and still the supper sent to the palace for the architect by the prefect remained untouched. pontius was hungry enough, but before attacking the meal that a slave had set out on a marble table--the roast meat which looked so inviting, the orange-red crayfish, the golden-brown pasty and the many-hued fruits--he conceived it his duty to inspect the rooms to be restored. it was needful to see whether the slaves who had been set, in the first place to clean out all the rooms, were being intelligently directed by the men set over them, whether they were doing their duty and had all that they required; they had got some hours to work, then they were to rest and to begin again at sunrise, reinforced by other laborers both slave and free. more and better lighting was universally demanded, and when, in the hall of the muses, the men who were cleaning the pavement and scraping the columns loudly clamored for torches and lamps, a young man's head peered over the screen which shut in the place reserved for the restoration of the urania, and a lamentable voice cried out: "my muse, with her celestial sphere, is the guardian of star-gazers and is happiest in the dark--but not till she is finished. to form her we must have light and more light--and when it is lighter here the voice of the people down there, which does not sound very delightful up in this hollow space, will diminish somewhat also. give light, then, o, men! light for my goddess, and for your scrubbers and scourers." pontius looked up smiling at pollux, who had uttered this appeal, and answered: your cry of distress is fully justified, my friend. but do you really believe in the power of light to diminish noise?" "at any rate," replied pollux, "where it is absent, that is to say in the dark, every noise seems redoubled." "that is true, but there are other reasons for that," answered the architect. "to-morrow in an interval of work we will discuss these matters. now i will go to provide you with lamps and lights." "urania, the protectress of the fine arts, will be beholden to you," cried pollux as the architect went away. pontius meanwhile sought his chief foreman to ask him whether he had delivered his orders to keraunus, the palace-steward, to come to him, and to put the cressets and lamps commonly used for the external illuminations, at the service of his workmen. "three times," was the answer "have i been myself to the man, but each time he puffed himself out like a frog and answered me not a word, but only sent me into a little room with his daughter--whom you must see, for she is charming--and a miserable black slave, and there i found these few wretched lamps that are now burning." "did you order him to come to me?" "three hours ago, and again a second time, when you were talking with papias." the architect turned his back upon the foreman in angry haste, unrolled the plan of the palace, quickly found upon it the abode of the recalcitrant steward, seized a small red-clay lamp that was standing near him, and being quite accustomed to guide himself by a plan, went straight through the rooms, which were not a few, and by a long corridor from the hall of the muses, to the lodging of the negligent official. an unclosed door led him into a dark ante-chamber followed by another room, and finally into a large, well-furnished apartment. all these door-ways, into what seemed to be at once the dining and sitting-room of the steward, were bereft of doors, and could only be closed by stuff curtains, just now drawn wide open. pontius could therefore look in, unhindered and unperceived, at the table on which a three-branched bronze lamp was standing between a dish and some plates. the stout man was sitting with his rubicund moon-face towards the architect, who, indignant as he was, would have gone straight up to him with swift decision, if, before entering the second room, a low but pitiful sob had not fallen on his ear. the sob proceeded from a slight young girl who came forward from a door beyond the sitting-room, and who now placed a platter with a loaf on the table by the steward. "come, do not cry, selene," said the steward, breaking the bread slowly and with an evident desire to soothe his child. "how can i help crying," said the girl. "but tomorrow morning let me buy a piece of meat for you; the physician forbade you to eat bread." "man must be filled," replied the fat man, "and meat is dear. i have nine mouths to fill, not counting the slaves. and where am i to get the money to fill us all with meat?" "we need none, but for you it is necessary." "it is of no use, child. the butcher will not trust us any more, the other creditors press us, and at the end of the month we shall have just ten drachmae left us." the girl turned pale, and asked in anxiety: "but, father, it was only to-day that you showed me the three gold pieces which you said had been given you as a present out of the money distributed on the arrival of the empress." the steward absently rolled a piece of bread-crumb between his fingers and said: "i spent that on this fibula with an incised onyx--and as cheap as dirt, i can tell you. if caesar comes he must see who and what i am; and if i die any one will give you twice as much for it as i paid. i tell you the empress's money was well laid out on the thing." selene made no answer, but she sighed deeply, and her eye glanced at a quantity of useless things which her father had acquired and brought home because they were cheap, while she and her seven sisters wanted the most necessary things. "father," the girl began again after a short silence, "i ought not to go on about it, but even if it vexes you, i must--the architect, who is settling all the work out there, has sent for you twice already." "be silent!" shouted the fat man, striking his hand on the table. "who is this pontius, and who am i!" "you are of a noble macedonian family, related perhaps even to the ptolemies; you have your seat in the council of the citizens--but do, this time, be condescending and kind. the man has his hands full, he is tired out." "nor have i been able to sit still the whole day, and what is fitting, is fitting. i am keraunus the son of ptolemy, whose father came into egypt with alexander the great, and helped to found this city, and every one knows it. our possessions were diminished; but it is for that very reason that i insist on our illustrious blood being recognized. pontius sends to command the presence of keraunus! if it were not infuriating it would be laughable--for who is this man, who? i have told you his father was a freedman of the former prefect claudius balbillus, and by the favor of the roman his father rose and grew rich. he is the descendant of slaves, and you expect that i shall be his obedient humble servant, whenever he chooses to call me?" but father, my dear father, it is not the son of ptolemy, but the palacesteward that he desires shall go to hire." "mere chop-logic!--you have nothing to say, not a step do i take to go to him." the girl clasped her hands over her face, and sobbed loudly and pitifully. keraunus started up and cried out, beside himself. "by great serapis. i can bear this no longer. what are you whimpering about?" the girl plucked up courage and going up to the indignant man she said, though more than once interrupted by tears. "you must go father--indeed you must. i spoke to the foreman, and he told me coolly and decidedly that the architect was placed here in caesar's name, and that if you do not obey him you will at once be superseded in your office. and if that were to happen, if that-o father, father, only think of blind helios and poor berenice! arsinoe and i could earn our bread, but the little ones--the little ones." with these words the girl fell on her knees lifting her hands in entreaty to her obstinate parent. the blood had mounted to the man's face and eyes, and pressing his hand to his purple forehead he sank back in his chair as if stricken with apoplexy. his daughter sprang up and offered him the cup full of wine and water which was standing on the table; but keraunus pushed it aside with his hands, and panted out, while he struggled for breath: "supersede me--in my place--turn me out of this palace! why there, in that ebony trunk, lies the rescript of euergetes which confers the stewardship of this residence on my ancestor philip, and as a hereditary dignity in his family. now philip's wife had the honor of being the king's mistress--or, as some say, his daughter. there lies the document, drawn up in red and black ink on yellow papyrus and ratified with the seal and signature of euergetes the second. all the princes of the lagides have confirmed it, all the roman prefects have respected it, and now--now." "but father" said the girl interrupting her father, and wringing her hands in despair, "you still hold the place and if you will only give in." "give in, give in," shrieked the corpulent steward shaking his fat hands above his blood-shot face. "i will give in--i will not bring you all to misery--for my children's sake i will allow myself to be ill-treated and down-trodden, i will go--i will go directly. like the pelican i will feed my children with my heart's blood. but you ought to know what it costs me, to humiliate myself thus; it is intolerable to me, and my heart is breaking--for the architect, the architect has trampled upon me as if i were his servant; he wished--i heard him with these ears--he shrieked after me a villanous hope that i might be smothered in my own fat--and the physician has told me i may die of apoplexy! leave me, leave me. i know those romans are capable of anything. well--here i am; fetch me my saffron-colored pallium, that i wear in the council, fetch me my gold fillet for my head. i will deck myself like a beast for sacrifice, and i will show him--" not a word of this harangue had escaped the ears of the architect who had been at first indignant and then moved to laughter, and withal it had touched his heart. a sluggish and torpid character was repugnant to his vigorous nature, and the deliberate and indifferent demeanor of the stout steward, on an occasion which had prompted him and all concerned to act as quickly and energetically as possible, had brought words to his lips which he now wished that he had never spoken. it is true that the steward's false pride had roused his indignation, and who can listen calmly to any comment on a stain on his birth? but the appeal of this miserable father's daughter had gone to his heart. he pitied the fatuous simpleton whom, with a turn of his hand, he could reduce to beggary, and who had evidently been far more deeply hurt by his words than pontius had been by what he had overheard, and so he followed the kindly impulse of a noble nature to spare the unfortunate. he rapped loudly with his knuckles on the inside of the door-post of the ante-room, coughed loudly, and then said, bowing deeply to the steward on the threshold of the sitting-room: "noble keraunus--i have come, as beseems me, to pay you my respests. excuse the lateness of the hour, but you can scarcely imagine how busy i have been since we parted." keraunus had at first started at the late visitor, then he stared at him in consternation. he now went towards him, stretched out both hands as if suddenly relieved of a nightmare, and a bright expression of such warm and sincere satisfaction overspread his countenance that pontius wondered how he could have failed to observe what a well-cut face this fat original had. "take a seat at our humble table," said keraunus. "go selene and call the slaves. perhaps there is yet a pheasant in the house, a roast fowl or something of the kind--but the hour, it is true, is late." "i am deeply obliged to you," replied the architect, smiling. "my supper is waiting for me in the hall of the muses, and i must return to my workpeople. i should be grateful to you if you would accompany me. we must consult together as to the lighting of the rooms, and such matters are best discussed over a succulent roast and a flask of wine." "i am quite at your service," said keraunus with a bow. "i will go on ahead," said the architect, "but first will you have the goodness to give all that you have in the way of cressets, lights and lamps to the slaves, who, in a few minutes, shall await your orders at your door." when pontius had departed, selene exclaimed with a deep sigh "oh! what a fright i have had! i will go now and find the lamps. how terribly it might have ended." "it is well that he should have come," murmured keraunus. "considering his birth and origin, the architect is certainly a well-bred man." etext editor's bookmarks: facts are differently reflected in different minds have not yet learned not to be astonished ill-judgment to pronounce a thing impossible years are the foe of beauty this ebook was produced by david widger <widger@cecomet.net> [note: there is a short list of bookmarks, or pointers, at the end of the file for those who may wish to sample the author's ideas before making an entire meal of them. d.w.] serapis by georg ebers volume 4. chapter xvi. the day had flown swiftly for dada under the roof of medius; there were costumes and scenery in wonderful variety for her to look over; the children were bright and friendly, and she had enjoyed playing with them, for all her little tricks and rhymes, which papias was familiar with by this time, were to them new and delightful. it amused her, too, to see what the domestic difficulties were of which the singer had described himself as being a victim. medius was one of those men who buy everything that strikes them as cheap--for instance, that very morning, at kibotus he had stood to watch a fish auction and had bought a whole tub-full of pickled fish for "a mere trifle;" but when, presently, the cargo was delivered, his wife flew into a great rage, which she vented first on the innocent lad who brought the fish, and then on the less innocent purchaser. they would not get to the bottom of the barrel and eat the last herring, she asserted, till they were a century old. medius, while he disputed so monstrous a statement, vehemently declared that such wholesome and nutritious food as those fish was undoubtedly calculated to prolong the lives of the whole family to an exceptionally great age. this discussion, which was not at all by way of a jest, amused dada far more than the tablets, cylinders and cones covered with numbers and cabalistic signs, to which medius tried to direct her attention. she darted off in the midst of his eager explanations to show his grandchildren how a rabbit sniffs and moves his ears when he is offered a cabbage-leaf. the report, which reached them in the afternoon, of the proceedings in the square by the prefect's house, disturbed medius greatly, and he set off at once for the scene of action. he did not return till evening, and then he looked like an altered man. he must have witnessed something very terrible, for his face was as pale as death, and his usually confident and swaggering manner had given place to a stricken and care-worn air. he walked up and down the room, groaning as he went; he flung himself on the divan and stared fixedly at the ground; he wandered into the atrium and gazed cautiously out on the street. dada's presence seemed suddenly to be the source of much anxiety to him, and the girl, painfully conscious of this, hastened to tell him that she would prefer to return home at once to her uncle and aunt. "you can please yourself," was all he said, with a shrug and a sigh. "you may stay for aught i care. it is all the same now!" so far his wife had left him to himself, for she was used to his violent and eccentric behavior whenever anything had crossed him; but now she peremptorily desired to be informed what had happened to him and he at once acceded. he had been unwilling to frighten them sooner than was needful, but they must learn it sooner or later: cynegius had arrived to overthrow the image of serapis, and what must ensue they knew only too well. "to-day," he cried, "we will live; but by to-morrow--a thousand to one-by to-morrow there will be an end of all our joys and the earth will swallow up the old home and us with it!" his words fell on prepared ground; his wife and daughter were appalled, and as medius went on to paint the imminent catastrophe in more vivid colors, his energy growing in proportion to its effect on them, they began at first to sob and whimper and then to wail loudly. when the children, who by this time were in bed, heard the lamentations of their elders, they, too, set up a howl, and even dada caught the infection. as for medius himself, he had talked himself into such a state of terror by his own descriptions of the approaching destruction of the world that he abandoned all claim to his proud reputation as a strong-minded man, and quite forgot his favorite theory that everything that went by the name of god was a mere invention of priests and rulers to delude and oppress the ignorant; at last he even went so far as to mutter a, prayer, and when his wife begged to be allowed to join a family of neighbors in sacrificing a black lamb at daybreak, he recklessly gave her a handful of money. none of the party closed an eye that night. dada could not bear to remain in the house. perhaps all these horrors existed only in medius' fancy; but if destruction were indeed impending, she would a thousand times rattier perish with her own relations than with these people, in whom there was something--she did not know what--for which she felt a deep aversion. this she explained to her host early in the day and he was ready to set out at once and restore her to the care of karnis. in fact, the purpose for which he had needed her must certainly come to nothing. he himself was attached to the service of posidonius, a great magician and wizard, to whom half alexandria flocked--christians, jews, and heathens--in order to communicate with the dead, with gods and with demons, to obtain spells and charms by which to attract lovers or injure foes, to learn the art of becoming invisible, or to gain a glimpse into the future. in the performance which was being planned dada was to have appeared to a bereaved mother as the glorified presence of her lost daughter; but the disturbance in the city had driven the matron, who was rich, to take refuge in the country the previous afternoon. nor was it likely that the sorcerer's other clients--even if all turned out better than could be hoped--would venture into the streets by night. rich people were timid and suspicious; and as the emperor had lately promulgated fresh and more stringent edicts against the magic arts, posidonius had thought it prudent to postpone the meeting. hence medius had at present no use for the girl; but he affected to agree so readily to her wishes merely out of anxiety to relieve isarnis as soon as possible of his uneasiness as to her fate. the morning was bright and hot, and the town was swarming with an excited mob soon after sunrise. terror, curiosity and defiance were painted on every face; however, medius and his young companion made their way unhindered as far as the temple of isis by the lake. the doors of the sanctuary were closed, and guarded by soldiers; but the southern and western walls were surrounded by thousands and thousands of heathen. some hundreds, indeed, had passed the night there in prayer, or in sheer terror of the catastrophe which could not fail to ensue, and they were kneeling in groups, groaning, weeping, and cursing, or squatting in stolid resignation, weary, crushed and hopeless. it was a heart-rending sight, and neither dada--who till this moment had been dreading dame herse's scolding tongue far more than the destruction of the world--nor her companion could forbear joining in the wail that rose from this vast multitude. medius fell on his knees groaning aloud and pulled the girl down beside him; for, upon the wall that enclosed the temple precincts, they now saw a priest who, after holding the sacred sistrum up to view and muttering some unintelligible prayers and invocations, proceeded to address the people. he was a short stout man, and the sweat streamed down his face as he stood under the blazing sun to sketch a fearful picture of the monstrous doom which was hanging over the city and its inhabitants. he spoke with pompous exaggeration, in a shrill, harsh voice, wiping his face meanwhile with his white linen robe or gasping for air, when breath failed him, like a fish stranded on the beach. all this, however, did not trouble his audience, for the hatred that inspired his language, and the terror of the immediate future which betrayed itself in every word exactly reflected their feelings. dada alone was moved to mirth; the longer she looked at him the more she felt inclined to laugh; besides, the day was so bright--a pigeon on the wall pattered round his mate, nodding and wriggling after the funny manner of pigeons in love--and, above all, her heart beat so high and she had such a happy instinctive feeling that all was ordered for the best, that the world seemed to her a beautiful and fairly secure dwelling-place, in spite of the dark forebodings of the zealous preacher. on the eve of destruction the earth must surely look differently from this; and it struck her as highly improbable that the gods should have revealed their purpose to such a queer old driveller as this priest, and have hidden it from other men. the very fact that this burly personage should prophesy evil with such conviction made her doubt it; and presently, when the plumes of three or four helmets became visible behind the speaker, and a pair of strong hands grasped his thick ancles and suddenly dragged him down from his eminence and back into the temple, she could hardly keep herself from laughing outright. now, however, there was more real cause for alarm a trumpet-blast was heard, and a maniple of the twenty-second legion marched down in close order on the crowd who fled before them. medius was one of the first to make off; dada kept close to his side, and when, in his alarm, he fairly took to his heels, she did the same; for, in spite of the reception she apprehended, she felt that the sooner she could rejoin her own people the better. never till now had she known how dear they were to her. herse might scold; but her sharpest words were truer and better than the smooth flattery of medius. it was a joy to think of seeing them again--agne, too, and little papias--and she felt as though she were about to meet them after years of separation. by this time they were at the ship-yard, which was divided only by a lane from the temple-grove; there lay the barge. dada pulled off her veil and waved it in the air, but the signal met with no response. they were at the house, no doubt, for some men were in the very act of drawing up the wooden gangway which connected the vessel with the land. medius hurried forward and was so fortunate as to overtake the steward, who had been superintending the operation, before he reached the garden-gate. the old man was rejoiced to see them, and told them at once that his old mistress had promised herse to give dada shelter if she should return to them. but dada was proud. she had no liking for gorgo or her grandmother; and when she had caught up to medius, quite out of breath, she positively refused the old lady's hospitality. the barge was deserted. karnis--so the steward informed her--had withdrawn to the temple of serapis with his son, intending to assist in its defence; and herse had accompanied them, for olympius had said that women would be found useful in the beleaguered sanctuary, in preparing food for the combatants and in nursing the wounded. dada stood looking at their floating home, utterly disappointed and discouraged. she longed to follow her aunt and to gain admission to the serapeutn; but how could she do this now, and of what use could she hope to be? there was nothing heroic in her composition, and from her infancy she had always sickened at the sight of blood. she had no alternative but to return with medius, and take refuge under his roof. the singer gave her ample time for reflection; he had seated himself, with the steward, under the shade of a sycamore, and the two men were absorbed in convincing each other, by a hundred arguments which they had picked up during the last day or two, how inevitably the earth must be annihilated if the statue of serapis should be overthrown. in the warmth of their discussion they paid no heed to the young girl, who was sitting on a fallen hermes by the road-side. her vigorous and lively temperament rendered her little apt to dream, or even meditate, in broad daylight; but the heat and tie recent excitement had overwrought her and she felt into a drowsy reverie. now and again, as her heavy head drooped on her breast, she fancied the serapeum had actually fallen; then, as she raised it again, she recovered her consciousness that it was hot, that she had lost her home, and that she must, however unwillingly, return with medius. but at length her eyelids closed, and as she sat in the full blaze of the sun, a rosy light filled her eyes and a bright vision floated before her: marcus took the modius--the corn measure--from the head of the statue of serapis and offered it to her; it was quite full of lilies and roses and violets, and she was delighted with the flowers and thanked him warmly when he set the modius down before her. he held out his hands to her calmly and kindly, and she gave him hers, feeling very happy under the steady, compassionate gaze of his large eyes which had often watched her, on board ship, for some minutes at a time. she longed to say something to him, but she could not speak; and she looked on quite unmoved as the statue of the god and the hall in which it stood were wrapt in flames. no smoke mingled with this clear and genial blaze, but it compelled her to shade her dazzled eyes; and as she lifted her hand she woke to see medius standing in front of her. he desired her to come home with him at once, and she rose to obey, listening in silence to his assurances that the lives of karnis and orpheus would not be worth a sesterce if they fell into the hands of the roman soldiers. she walked on, more hopeless and depressed than she had ever felt in her life before, past the unfinished hulks in the ship-yard where no one was at work to-day when, coming down the lane that divided the wharf from the temple precincts, she saw an old man and a little boy. she had not time to ask herself whether she saw rightly or was mistaken before the child caught sight of her, snatched his hand away from that of his companion, and flew towards her, shouting her name. in the next moment little papias had rushed rapturously into her arms and, as she lifted him up, had thrown his hands round her neck, clinging to her as if he would never leave go again, while she hugged him closely for joy, and kissed him with her eyes full of tears. she was herself again at once; the sad and anxious girl was the lively dada once more. the man who had been leading the little boy was immediately besieged with questions, and from his answers they learnt that he had found the child the evening before at the corner of a street, crying bitterly; that he had taken him home, and with some little difficulty had ascertained from him that he belonged to some people who were living on board a barge, close to a ship-yard. in spite of the excitement that prevailed he had brought the child home as soon as possible, for he could fancy how anxious his parents must be. dada thanked the kind-hearted artisan with sincere warmth, and the man, seeing how happy the girl and the child were at having met, went his way quite satisfied. medius had stood by and had said nothing, but he looked on the pretty little boy with much favor. if the earth were not to crumble into nothingness after all, this child would be a real treasure trove; and when dada begged him to find a corner for papias in his house, though he hinted at the smallness of his earnings and the limited space at his command, he yielded, if reluctantly, to her entreaties, on her offering him her gold brooch to cover his expenses. as they made their way back she cast many loving glances at the child; she was extremely fond of him, and he seemed a link to bind her to her own people. chapter xvii. the singer's wife and daughter had joined some neighbors in sacrificing a black lamb to zeus, a ceremony that was usual on the occasion of earthquakes or very severe storms; but it was done very secretly, for the edicts prohibiting the sacrifice of victims to the gods were promptly and rigidly enforced. the more the different members of the family came into contact with other citizens, the more deeply rooted was their terror that the end of all things was at hand. as soon as it was dark the old man buried all his savings, for even if everyone else were to perish, he felt that he--though how or why he knew not--might be exempt from the common doom. the night was warm, and great and small alike slept--or lay awake--under the stars so as not to be overwhelmed by the crash of roofs and walls; the next day was oppressively hot, and the family cowered in a row in the scanty shade of a palm and of a fig-tree, the only growth of any size in the singer's garden. medius himself, in spite of the scorching sun, could not be still. he rushed off to the town again and again, but only to return each time to enhance the anguish of the household by relating all sorts of horrors which he had picked up in his wanderings. they were obliged to satisfy their hunger with bread, cheese, and fruit, for the two slave-women positively refused to risk their lives by cooking in the house. medius' temper varied as he came and went; now he was gentle and affectionate, and then again he raged like a madman; and his wife outdid him. at one moment she would abandon him and the children, while she anointed the household altar and put up prayers; at the next she railed at the baseness and cruelty of the gods. when her husband brought the news that the serapeum was surrounded by the imperial troops, she scoffed and spit at the sacred images, and five minutes later she was vowing a sacrifice to the deities of olympus. the general confusion was distracting; as the sun rose, the anguish, physical and mental, of the whole family greatly increased, and by noon had reached an appalling pitch. dada looked on intensely disgusted, and only shook her head when one or another of her companions was sure she felt a shock of earthquake or heard the roll of distant thunder. she could not explain to herself why she, who was usually timid enough, was exempt from the universal panic though she felt deeply pitiful towards the terrified women and children. none of them troubled themselves about her; the day dragged on with intolerable slowness, quenching all her gay vivacity, while she was utterly exhausted by the scorching african sun, of which, till now, she had never known the power. at last, in the afternoon, she found the little garden, which was by this time heated like an oven, quite unbearable, and she looked round for papias. the child was sitting on the wall looking at the congregation streaming into the basilica of st. mark. dada followed his example, and when the many-voiced psalms rang out of the open door of the church, she listened to the music, for it seemed long since she had heard any, and after wiping the perspiration from the little boy's face with her peplos, she pointed to the building and said: "it must be nice and cool in there." "of course it is," said papias. "it is never too hot in church. i will tell you what--we will go there." this was a bright idea; for, thought dada, any place must be pleasanter than this; and she felt strongly tempted, too, to see the inside of one of agne's temples and to sing once more, or, at any rate, hear others sing. "come along," she said, and they stole through the deserted house to get into the street by the atrium. medius saw them, but he made no attempt to detain them; he had sunk into lethargic indifference. it was not an hour since he had taken stock of his life and means, setting the small figure of his average income against his hospitality to dada and her little companion; but then, again, he had calculated that, if all went well, he might make considerable profits out of the girl and the child. now, he felt it was all the same to him whether he and his family and dada met their doom in the house or out of it. dada and papias soon reached the church of st. mark, the oldest christian basilica in the city. it consisted of a vestibule--the narthex--and the body of the church, a very long hall, with a flat roof ceiled with stained wood and supported on a double row of quite simple columns. this space was divided into two parts by a screen of pierced work; the innermost portion had a raised floor or podium, on which stood a table with chairs placed round it in a semicircle. the centre seat was higher and more richly decorated than the others. these chairs were unoccupied; a few deacons in 'talares' of light-colored brocade were busied about the table. in the middle of the vestibule there was a small tank; here a number of penitents had collected who, with their flayed ribs and abject lamentations, offered a more melancholy spectacle than even the terrified crowd whom dada had seen the day before, gathered round the temple of isis. indeed, site would have withdrawn at once but that papias dragged her forward, and when she had passed through the great door into the nave she breathed a sigh of relief. a soothing sense of respite came over her, such as she had rarely felt; for the lofty building, which was only half full, was deliciously cool and the subdued light was restful to her eyes. the slight perfume of incense and the sober singing of the assembled worshippers were soothing to her senses, and, as she took a seat on one of the benches, she felt sheltered and safe. the old church struck her as a home of perfect peace; in all the city, she thought, there could hardly be another spot where she might rest so quietly and contentedly. so for some little time she gave herself up, body and soul, to the refreshing influences of the coolness, the solemnity, the fragrance and the music; but presently her attention was attracted to two women in the seats just in front of her. one of them, who had a child on her arm, whispered to her neighbor: "you here, hannah, among the unbaptized? how are you going on at home?" "i cannot stay long," was the answer. "it is all the same where one sits, and when i leave i shall disturb no one. but my heart is heavy; the child is very bad. the doctor says he cannot live through the day, and i felt as if i must come to church." very right, very right. do you stay here and i will go to your house at once; my husband will not mind waiting." "thank you very much, but katharine is staying with the boy and he is quite safe there." "then i will stay and pray with you for the dear little child." dada had not missed a word of this simple dialogue. the woman whose child was ill at home, and who had come here to pray for strength or mercy, had a remarkably sweet face; as the girl saw the two friends bow their heads and fold their hands with downcast eyes, she thought to herself: "now they are praying for the sick child. . ." and involuntarily she, too, bent her curly head, and murmured softly: "o ye gods, or thou god of the christians, or whatever thou art called that hast power over life and death, make this poor woman's little son well again. when i get home again i will offer up a cake or a fowl--a lamb is so costly." and she fancied that some invisible spirit heard her, and it gave her a vague satisfaction to repeat her simple supplication over and over again. meanwhile a miserable blind dwarf had seated himself by her side; near him stood the old dog that guided him. he held him by a string and had been allowed to bring his indispensable comrade into the church. the old man joined loudly and devoutly in the psalm which the rest of the congregation were singing; his voice had lost its freshness, no doubt, but he sang in perfect tune. it was a pleasure to dada to listen, and though she only half understood the words of the psalm she easily caught the air and began to sing too, at first timidly and hardly audibly; but she soon gained courage and, following the example of little papias, joined in with all her might. she felt as though she had reached land after a stormy and uncomfortable voyage, and had found refuge in a hospitable home; she looked about her to discover whether the news of the approaching destruction of the world had not penetrated even here, but she could not feel certain; for, though many faces expressed anguish of mind, contrition, and a passionate desire--perhaps for help or, perhaps, for something quite different-not a cry of lamentation was to be heard, such as had rent the air by the temple of isis, and most of the men and women assembled here were singing, or praying in silent absorption. there were none of the frenzied monks who had terrified her in the xenodochium and in the streets; on this day of tumult and anxiety they are devoting all their small strength and great enthusiasm to the service of the church militant. this meeting, at so unusual an hour, had been convened by eusebius, the deacon of the district, with the intention of calming the spirits of those who had caught the general infection of alarm. dada could see the old man step up into a raised pulpit on the inner side of the screen which parted the baptized from the unbaptized members of the congregation; his silvery hair and beard, and the cheerful calm of his face, with the high white forehead and gentle, loving gaze, attracted her greatly. she had heard karnis speak of plato, and knew by heart some axioms of his doctrine, and she had always thought of the sage as a young man; but in advanced age, she fancied, he might have looked like eusebius. aye, and it would have well beseemed this old man to die, like the great athenian, at a mirthful wedding-feast. the priest was evidently about to give a discourse, and much as she admired him, this idea prompted her to quit the church; for, though she could sit still for hours to hear music, she found nothing more irksome than to be compelled to listen for any length of time to a speech she might not interrupt. she was therefore rising to leave; but papias held her back and entreated her so pathetically with his blue baby-eyes not to take him away and spoil his pleasure that she yielded, though the opportunity was favorable for moving unobserved, as the woman in front of her was preparing to go and was shaking hands with her neighbor. she had indeed risen from her seat when a little girl came in behind her and whispered, loud enough for dada's keen ears to catch the words: "come mother, come home at once. he has opened his eyes and called for you. the physician says all danger is over." the mother in her turn whispered to her friend in glad haste: "all is well!" and hurried away with the girl. the friend she had left raised her hands and eyes in thanksgiving, and dada, too, smiled in sympathy and pleasure. had the god of the christian heard her prayer with theirs. meanwhile the preacher had ended his preliminary prayer and began to explain to his hearers that he had bidden them to the church in order to warn them against foolish terrors, and to lead them into the frame of mind in which the true christian ought to live in these momentous times of disturbance. he wished to point out to his brethren and sisters in the lord what was to be feared from the idols and their overthrow, what the world really owed to the heathen, and what he expected from his fellow-believers when the splendid and imminent triumph of the church should be achieved. "let us look back a little, my beloved," he said, after this brief introduction. "you have all heard of the great alexander, to whom this noble city owes its existence and its name. he was a mighty instrument in the hand of the lord, for he carried the tongue and the wisdom of the greeks throughout all lands, so that, in the fulness of time, the doctrine which should proceed from the only son of god might be understood by all nations and go home to all hearts. in those days every people had its own idols by hundreds, and in every tongue on earth men put up their prayers to the supreme power which makes itself felt wherever mortal creatures dwell. here, by the nile, after alexander's death, reigned the ptolemies; and the egyptian citizens of alexandria prayed to other gods than their greek neighbors, so that they could never unite in worshipping their divinities; but philadelphus, the second ptolemy, a very wise man, gave them a god in common. in consequence of a vision seen in a dream he had the divinity brought from sinope, on the shores of pontus, to this town. this idol was serapis, and he was raised to the throne of divinity here, not by heaven, but by a shrewd and prudent man; a grand temple was built for him, which is to this day one of the wonders of the world, and a statue of him was made, as beautiful as any image ever formed by the hand of man. you have seen and know them both, and you know too, how, before the gospel was preached in alexandria, crowds of all classes, excepting the jews, thronged the serapeum. "a dim perception of the sublime teaching of the lord by whom god has redeemed the world had dawned, even before his appearance on earth, on the spirit of the best of the heathen, and in the hearts of those wise men who--though not born into the state of grace--sought and strove after the truth, after inward purity, and an apprehension of the almighty. the lord chose them out to prepare the hearts of mankind for the good tidings, and make them fit to receive the gospel when the star should rise over bethlehem. "many of these sages had infused precious doctrine into the worship of serapis before the hour of true redemption had come. they enjoined the servants of serapis to be more zealous in the care of the soul than in that of the body, for they had detected the imperishable nature of the spiritual and divine part of man; they saw that we are brought into existence by sin and love, and we must therefore die to our sinful love and rise again through the might of love eternal. these hellenes, like the egyptian sages of the times of the pharaohs, divined and declared that the soul was held responsible after death for all it had done of good or evil in its mortal body. they distinguished virtue and sin by the eternal law, which was written in the hearts even of the heathen, to the end that they, by nature, might do the works of the law; nay, there were some of their loftiest spirits who, though they knew not the lord, it is true, required the repentance in the sinner, in the name of serapis, and pronounced that it was good to give up the delusive joys and vain pleasures of the flesh and to break away from the evil--whether of body or of soul--which we are led into by the senses. they called upon their disciples to hold meetings for meditation whereby they might discern truth and the divinity; and the vast precincts of the serapeum contained cells and alcoves for penitents and devotees, in which many a soul touched by grace, dead to the world and absorbed in the contemplation of such things as they esteemed high and heavenly, has ripened to old age and death. "but, my beloved, the light in which we rejoice, through no merits or deserts of our own, had not yet been shed on the lost children of those days of darkness; and all those noble, and indeed most admirable efforts were polluted by an admixture, even here, of coarse superstition, bloody sacrifices, and foolish adoration of perishable stone idols and beasts without understanding; and in other places by the false and delusive arts of magians and sorcerers. even the dim apprehension of true salvation was darkened and distorted by the subtleties of a vain and inconsistent philosophy, which held a theory as immutably true one day and overthrew or denied it the next. thus, by degrees, the temple of the idol of sinope degenerated into a stronghold of deceit and bloodshed, of the basest superstition, the pleasures of the flesh, and abominations that cried to heaven. learning, to be sure, was still cherished in the halls of the serapeum; but its disciples turned with hardened hearts from the truth which was sent into the world by the grace of god, and they remained the prophets of error. the doctrines which the sages had associated with the idea of serapis, debased and degraded by the most contemptible trivialities; lost all their worth and dignity; and after the great apostle to whom this basilica is dedicated, had brought the gospel to alexandria, the idol's throne began to totter, and the tidings of salvation shook its foundations and brought it to the verge of destruction in spite of the persecutions, in spite of the edicts of the apostate julian, in spite of the desperate efforts of the philosophers, sophists, and heathen--for our lord and master, jesus christ, has given certainty and actuality to the fleeting shadow of half-divined truth which lies in the core of the worship of serapis. the pure and radiant star of christian love has risen in the place of the dim nebulous mist of serapis; and just as the moon pales when the sun appears triumphant, the worship of serapis has died away in a thousand places where the gospel has been received. even here, in alexandria, its feeble flame is kept alive only by infinite care, and if the might of our pious and christian emperor makes itself felt-tomorrow, or next day--then, my beloved, it will vanish in smoke, and no power on earth can fan it into life again. not our grandsons, no, but our own children will ask: who--what was serapis? for he who shall be overthrown is no longer a mighty god but an idol bereft of his splendor and his dignity. this is no struggle of might against might; it is the death-stroke given to a wounded and vanquished foe. the tree is rotten to the core and can crush no one in its fall, but it will cover all who stand near it with dust and rubbish. the sovereign has outlived his dominion, and when his fingers drop the sceptre few indeed will bewail him, for the new king has already mounted the throne and his is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory, forever! amen." dada had listened to the deacon's address with no particular interest, but the conclusion struck her attention. the old man looked dignified and honest; but father karnis was a well-meaning man, no doubt, and one of those who are wont to keep on the winning side. how was it that the preacher could draw so pitiable a picture of the very same god whose greatness her uncle had praised in such glowing terms only two days since? how could the same thing appear so totally different to two different people? the priest looked more sagacious than the musician; marcus, the young christian, had a most kind heart; there was not a better or gentler creature under the sun than agne--it was quite possible that christianity was something very different in reality from what her foster parents chose to represent. as to the frightful consequences of the overthrow of the temple of serapis, on that point she was completely reassured, and she prepared to listen with greater attention as eusebius went on: "let us rejoice, beloved! the great idol's days are numbered! do you know what that false worship has been in our midst? it has been like a splendid and richly-dressed trireme sailing, plague-stricken, into a harbor full of ships and boats. woe to those who allow themselves to be tempted on board by the magnificence of its decorations! how great is their chance of infection, how easily they will carry it from ship to ship, and from the ships on to the shore, till the pestilence has spread from the harbor to the city! let us then be thankful to those who destroy the gorgeous vessel, who drive it from amongst us, or sink or burn it. may our father in heaven give courage to their hearts, strength to their hands and blessing on their deeds! when we hear: "great serapis has fallen to the earth and is no more, we and the world are free from him! then, in this city, and wherever christians dwell and worship, let a solemn festival be held. "but still let us be just, still let us bear in mind all the great and good gifts that the trireme brought to our parents when it rode the waves manned by a healthy crew. if we do, it will be with sincere pity that we shall watch the proud vessel sink to the bottom, and we shall understand the grief of those whom once it bore over ebb and flow, and who believe they owe every thing to it. we shall rejoice doubly, too, to think that we ourselves have a safe bark with stout planks and strong masts, and a trustworthy pilot at the helm; and that we may confidently invite others to join us on board as soon as they have purified themselves of the plague with which they have been smitten. "i think you will all have understood this parable. when serapis falls there will be lamentation and woe among the heathen; but we, who are true christians, ought not to pass them by, but must strive to heal and save the wounded and sick at heart. when serapis falls you must be the physicians--healers of souls, as the lord hath said; and if we desire to heal, our first task must be to discover in what the sufferings consist of those we wish to succor, for our choice of medicine must depend on the nature of the injury. "what i mean is this: none can give comfort but those who know how to sympathize with the soul that craves it, who feel the sorrows of others as keenly as though they were their own. and this gift, my brethren, is, next to faith, the christian grace which of all others best pleases our heavenly master. "i see it in my mind's eye! the ruined edifice of the serapeum, the masterpiece of bryaxis laid in fragments in the dust, and thousands of wailing heathen! as the jews wept and hung their harps on the trees by the waters of babylon when they remembered zion, so do i see the heathen weep as they think of the perished splendor. they themselves, indeed, ruined and desecrated the glory they bewail; and when something higher and purer took its place they hardened their hearts, and, instead of leaving the dead to bury their dead and throwing themselves hopefully into the new life, they refused to be parted from the putrefying corpse. they were fools, but their folly was fidelity; and if we can win them over to our holy faith they will be faithful unto death, as they have been to their old gods, clinging to jesus and earning the crown of life. 'there will be more joy in heaven over one sinner that repenteth than over ninety and nine that need no repentance,'--that you have heard; and whichever among you loves the saviour can procure him a great joy if he guides only one of these weeping heathen into the kingdom of heaven. "but perhaps you will ask: is not the sorrow of the heathen a vain thing? what is it after all that they bewail? to understand that, try to picture to yourselves what it is that they think they are losing. verily it is not a small matter, and it includes many things for which we and all mankind owe them a debt of gratitude. we call ourselves christians and are proud of the name; but we also call ourselves hellenes, and are proud of that name too. it was under the protection of the old gods, whose fall is about to be consummated, that the greeks achieved marvellous deeds, nurturing the gifts of the intellect which the almighty bestowed on their race, like faithful gardeners, and making them bring forth marvellous fruit. in the realm of thought the greek is sovereign of the nations, and he has given to perishable matter a perfection of form which has elevated and vivified it to immortality. nothing more beautiful has ever been imagined or executed, before or since, or by any other people, than was produced by greece in its prime. but perhaps you will ask, why did not the redeemer come down among our fathers in those glorious days? because beauty, as they conceived and still conceive of it, is a mere perishable accident of matter, and because a race which thus devoted every thought and feeling to an inspired and fervent worship of beauty--which was so absorbed in the contemplation of the visible, could have no longing for the invisible which is the real life that came down among us with the only-begotten son of god. nevertheless beauty is beautiful; and when the time shall come when the visible is married to the invisible, when eternal truth is clothed in perfect form, then, and not till then, will the ideal which our fathers strove after in the great old days be realized, by the grace of the saviour. "but this visible beauty, which they so passionately cherished, does us good service too, so long as we do not allow it to dazzle us and lead us astray from the one thing needful. to whom, if not to the heathen hellenes, do our great teachers owe, under god, the noble art of coordinating their loftiest feelings, and casting them in forms which are intelligible to the christian and at once instruct, delight, and edify him? it was in a heathen school that each one of your pastors--that even i, the humblest of them--studied that rhetoric which enables me to utter with a flowing tongue the things which the spirit gives me to speak to you; and if some day there are christian schools, in which our sons may acquire the same power, they must adopt many of the laws devised by the heathen. if in the future we are rich enough to raise churches to the almighty, to the virgin mary and the great saints, in any way worthy of their sublime merits, we shall owe our skill to the famous architects of heathen hellas. we are indebted to the arts of the heathen for a thousand things in daily use, beside numberless others that lend charm to existence. yes, my beloved, when we consider all they did for us we cannot in justice withhold our tribute of gratitude and admiration. "nor can we doubt that the best of them were acceptable to the almighty himself, for he granted to them to see darkly and from afar what he has brought nigh to us, and poured into our hearts by divine revelation. you all know the name of plato. he, from whom salvation was hidden, saw remotely, by presentiment as it were, many things which to us, the redeemed, are clear and plain and near. he perceived the relation of earthly beauty and heavenly truth. the great gift of love binds and supports us all and plato gave the name of the divine eros, that is divine love, to an inspired devotion to the imperishable. he placed goodness--the good--at the top of the great scale of ideas which he constructed. the good was, to him, the highest idea and the uttermost of which we can conceive:--good, whose properties he made manifest by every means his lofty and lucid mind could command. this heathen, my brethren and sisters, was well worthy of the grace bestowed on us. do justice then to the blinded souls, justice in plato's sense of the word; he calls the virtue of reason wisdom; the virtue of spirit courage, and the virtue of the senses temperance. well, well! 'prove all things and hold fast that which is good.' that is to say: consider what may be worth anything in the works of the heathen that it may be duly preserved; but, on the other hand, tread all that is idolatry in the dust, all that brings the unclean thing among us, all that imperils our souls and bodies, or anything that is high and pure in life; but do not forget, my beloved, all that the heathen have done for us. be temperate in all things; avoid excess of zeal; for thus, and thus only, can we be just. 'it is not to hate, but to love each other that we are here.' it was not a christian but sophocles, one of the greatest of the heathen, who uttered those words, and he speaks them still to us!" eusebius paused and drew a deep breath. dada had listened eagerly, for it pleased her to hear all that she had been wont to prize spoken of here with due appreciation. but since eusebius had begun to discourse about plato she had been disturbed by two men sitting just in front of her. one was tall and lean, with a long narrow head, and the other a shorter and more comfortable-looking personage. the first fidgeted incessantly, nudging and twitching his companion, and looking now and then as if he were ready to start up and interrupt the preacher. this behavior evidently annoyed his neighbors who kept signing to him to be quiet and hushing him down, while he took no notice of their demonstrations but kept clearing his throat with obtrusive emphasis and at last scraped and shuffled his feet on the floor, though not very noisily. but eusebius began again: "and now, my brethren, how ought we to demean ourselves in these fateful times of disturbance? as christians; only--or rather, by god's aiding grace as christians in the true sense of our lord and master, according to the precepts given by him through the apostles. their words shall be mine. they say there are two paths--the path of life and the path of death, and there is a great difference between them. the path of life is this: first, thou shalt love god who hath created thee; next thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself, and whatsoever thou wouldst men should do unto thee even so do unto them; but what thou wouldst not have done unto thee do thou not to them. and the sum of the doctrine contained in these words is this: bless those that curse you, pray for your enemies and repent for those who persecute you, for 'if ye love them that love you what thank have ye? do not even the heathen the same?' love those that hate you and you will have no enemies. "take this teaching of the holy apostles to heart this day. beware of mocking or persecuting those who have been your enemies. even the nobler heathen regarded it as an act of grace to respect the conquered foe, and to you, as christians, it should be a law. it is not so hard to forgive an enemy when we regard him as a possible friend in the future; and the christian can go so far as to love him when he remembers that every man is his brother and neighbor, and equally precious in the sight of the saviour who is dearer to us than life. "the heathen, the idolater, is the christian's archfoe; but soon he will he in fetters at our feet. and, then, my brethren, pray for him; for if the almighty, who is without spot or stain and perfect beyond words, can forgive the sinner, ye who are base and guilty may surely forgive. 'fishers of souls' we all should be; try to fulfil the injunction. draw the enemy to you by kindness and love; show him by your example the beauty of the christian life; let him perceive the benefits of salvation; lead those whose gods and temples we have overthrown, into our churches; and when, after triumphing over those blind souls by the sword, we have also conquered them by love, faith and prayer--when they can rejoice with us in the redemption by our lord jesus christ--then shall we all be as one fold under one shepherd, and peace and joy shall reign in the city which is now torn by dissension and strife." at this point the preacher was interrupted, for a loud uproar broke out in the narthex--[the vestibule of the early christian basilica which was open to penitents.]--shouts and cries of men fighting, mingled with the dull roar of a bull. the congregation started to their feet in extreme consternation, and the door was flung open and a host of heathen youths rushed into the nave, followed by an overwhelming force of christians from whom they had sought refuge in the sanctuary. here they turned at bay to make a last desperate resistance. garlands, stripped of their leaves and flowers, still crowned their heads and hung over their shoulders. they had been attacked close to the church, by a party of monks when in the act of driving a gaily-decorated steer to the temple of apollo, in defiance of the imperial edict; and the beast, terrified by the tumult, had rushed into the narthex for shelter. the fight in the church was a short one; the idolaters were soon vanquished; but eusebius threw himself between them and the monks, and tried to save the victims from the revengeful fury of the conquerors. the women had all made for the door, but they did not venture out into the vestibule, for the young bull was still raging there, trampling or tossing everything that came in his way. at last, however, a soldier of the city-watch dealt him a sword-thrust in the neck, and he fell rolling in his own blood. at once the congregation forced their way out, shrieking with alarm and excitement, dada among the number, dragging the child with her. papias pulled with all his might to keep her back, declaring with vehement insistence that he had seen agne in the church and wanted to go back to her. dada, however, neither heard nor heeded; frightened out of her wits she went on with the crowd, taking him with her. she never paused till she reached the house of medius, quite out of breath; but then, as the little boy still asserted that he had seen his sister in the sanctuary, she turned back with him, as soon as the throng had dispersed. in the church there was no one to hinder them; but they got no further than the dividing screen, for on the floor beyond lay the mutilated and bleeding bodies of many a youth who had fallen in the contest. how she made her way back to the house of medius once more she never knew. for the first time she had been brought face to face with life in hideous earnest, and when the singer went to look for her in her room, at dusk, he was startled to find her bright face clouded and her eyes dim with tears. how bitterly she had been weeping medius indeed could not know; he ascribed her altered appearance to fear of the approaching cataclysm and was happy to be able to tell her, in all good faith, that the danger was as good as over. posidonius, the magian, had been to see him, and had completely reassured him. this man, whose accomplice he had been again and again in producing false apparitions of spirits and demons, had once gained an extraordinary influence over him by casting some mysterious spell upon him and reducing his will to abject subjection to his own; and this magician, who had recovered his own self-possession, had assured him, with an inimitable air of infallibility, that the fall of the temple of serapis would involve no greater catastrophe than that of any old worn-out statue. since this announcement medius had laughed at his own alarms; he had recovered his "strong-mindedness," and when posidonius had given him three tickets for the hippodrome he had jumped at the offer. the races were to be run next day, in spite of the general panic that had fallen on the citizens; and dada, when he invited her to join him and his daughter in-the enjoyment of so great a treat, dried her eyes and accepted gleefully. chapter xviii. alarming as was the outlook in alexandria, the races, were to be held as usual. this had been decided only a few hours since at the bishop's palace, and criers had been sent abroad throughout the streets and squares of the city to bid the inhabitants to this popular entertainment. in the writing-office of the ephemeris, which would be given to the public the first thing in the morning, five hundred slaves or more were occupied in writing from dictation a list of the owners of the horses, of the 'agitatores' who would drive them, and of the prizes offered to the winners, whether christians or heathen. [ephemeris--the news-sheet, which was brought out, not only in rome, but in all the cities of the empire, and which kept the citizens informed of all important events.] the heat in the episcopal council-hall had been oppressive, and not less so the heat of temper among the priests assembled there; for they had fully determined, for once, not to obey their prelate with blind submission, and they knew full well that theophilus, on occasion, if his will were opposed, could not merely thunder but wield the bolt. besides the ecclesiastical members of the council, cynegius, the imperial legate--evagrius, the prefect--and romanus, the commander-in-chief and comes of egypt,--had all been present. the officials of the empire-roman statesmen who knew alexandria and her citizens well, and who had often smarted under the spiritual haughtiness of her bishop--were on the prelate's side. cynegius was doubtful; but the priests, who had not altogether escaped the alarms that had stricken the whole population, were so bold as to declare against a too hasty decision, and to say that the celebration of the games at a time of such desperate peril was not only presumptuous but sinful, and a tempting of god. in answer to a scornful enquiry from theophilus as to where the danger lay if--as the comes promised--serapis were to be overthrown on the morrow, one of the assembly answered in the name of his colleagues. this man, now very old, had formerly been a wonderfully successful exorcist, and, notwithstanding that he was a faithful christian, he was the leader of a gnostic sect and a diligent student of magic. he proceeded to argue, with all the zeal and vehemence of conviction, that serapis was the most terrible of all the heathen daemons, and that all the oracles of antiquity, all the prophecies of the seers, and all the conclusions of the magians and astrologers would be proved false if his fall--which the present assembly could only regard as a great boon from heaven--did not entail some tremendous convulsion of nature. at this theophilus gave the reins to his wrath; he snatched a little crucifix from the wall above his episcopal throne, and broke it in fragments, exclaiming in deep tones that quavered with wrath: "and which do you regard as the greater: the only-begotten son of god, or that helpless image?" and he flung the pieces of the broken crucifix down on the table round which they were sitting. then, as though horrorstricken at his own daring act, he fell on his knees, raised his eyes and hands in prayer, and gathering up the broken image, kissed it devoutly. this rapid scene had a tremendous effect. amazement and suspense were painted on every face, not a hand, not a lip moved as theophilus rose again and cast a glance of proud and stern defiance round the assembly, which each man took to himself. for some moments he remained silent, as though awaiting a reply; but his repellent mien and majestic bearing made it sufficiently clear that he was ready to annihilate any opponent. in fact none of the priests contradicted him; and, though evagrius looked at him with a doubting shake of his shrewd head, cynegius on the other hand nodded assent. the bishop, however, seemed to care for neither dissent nor approval, and it was in brief and cutting terms, with no flourish of rhetoric, that he laid it down that wood and stone had nothing to do with the divine majesty, even though they were made in the image of all that was holy and worshipful or were most lavishly beautified by the hand of man with the foul splendors of perishable wealth. the greater the power ascribed by superstition to the base material--whatever form it bore--the more odious must it be to the christian. any man who should believe that a daemon could turn even a breath of the most high to its own will and purpose, would do well to beware of idolatry, for satan had already laid his clutches somewhere on his robe. at this sweeping accusation many a cheek colored wrathfully, and not a word was spoken when the bishop proceeded to require of his hearers that, if the serapeum should fall into the hands of the imperial troops, it should be at once and ruthlessly destroyed, and that his hearers should not cease from the work of ruin till this scandal of the city should be swept from the face of the earth. "if then the world crumbles to atoms!" he cried, "well and good--the heathen are right and we are wrong, and in that case it were better to perish; but as surely as i sit on this throne by the grace of god, serapis is the vain imagining of fools and blind, and there is no god but the god whose minister i am!" "whose kingdom is everlasting, amen!" chanted an old priest; and cynegius rose to explain that he should do nothing to hinder the total overthrow of the temple and image. then the comes spoke in defence of the bishop's resolution to allow the races to be held, as usual, on the morrow. he sketched a striking picture of the shallow, unstable nature of the alexandrians, a people wholly given over to enjoyment. the troops at his command were few in number in comparison with the heathen population of the city, and it was a very important matter to keep a large proportion of the worshippers of serapis occupied elsewhere at the moment of the decisive onset. gladiator-fights were prohibited, and the people were tired of wild beasts; but races, in which heathen and christian alike might enter their horses for competition, must certainly prove most attractive just at this time of bitter rivalry and oppugnancy between the two religions, and would draw thousands of the most able-bodied idolaters to the hippodrome. all this he had already considered and discussed with the bishop and cynegius; nay, that zealous destroyer of heathen worship had come to alexandria with the express purpose of overthrowing the serapeum; but, as a prudent statesman, he had first made sure that the time and circumstances were propitious for the work of annihilation. all that he had here seen and heard had only strengthened his purpose; so, after suggesting a few possible difficulties, and enjoining moderation and mercy as the guiding principles of his sovereign, he commanded, in the emperor's name, that the sanctuary of serapis should be seized by force of arms and utterly destroyed, and that the races should be held on the morrow. the assembled council bowed low; and when theophilus had closed the meeting with a prayer he withdrew to his ungarnished study, with his head bent and an air of profound humility, as though he had met with a defeat instead of gaining a victory. ....................... the fate of the great god of the heathen was sealed, but in the wide precincts of the serapeum no one thought of surrender or of prompt defeat. the basement of the building, on which stood the grandest temple ever erected by the hellenes, presented a smooth and slightly scarped rampart of impregnable strength to the foe. a sloping way extended up over a handsomely-decorated incline, and from the middle of the grand curve described by this road, two flights of steps led up to the three great doors in the facade of the building. the heathen had taken care to barricade this approach in all haste, piling the road and steps with statuary-images of the gods of the finest workmanship, figures and busts of kings, queens, and heroes, hermes, columns, stelae, sacrificial stones, chairs and benches-torn from their places by a thousand eager hands. the squared flags of the pavement and the granite blocks of the steps had been built up into walls and these were still being added to after the besiegers had surrounded the temple; for the defenders tore down stones, pilasters, gutters and pieces of the cornice, and flung them on to the outworks, or, when they could, on to the foe who for the present were not eager to commence hostilities. the captains of the imperial force had miscalculated the strength of the heathen garrison. they supposed a few hundreds might have entrenched themselves, but on the roof alone above a thousand men were to be seen, and every hour seemed to increase the number of men and women crowding into the serapeum. the romans could only suppose that this constantly growing multitude had been concealed in the secret halls and chambers of the temple ever since cynegius had first arrived, and had no idea that they were still being constantly reinforced. karnis, herse, and orpheus, among others, had made their way thither from the timber-yard, down the dry conduit, and an almost incessant stream of the adherents of the old gods had preceded and followed them. while eusebius had been exhorting his congregation in the church of st. mark to christian love towards the idolaters, these had collected in the temple precincts to the number of about four thousand, all eager for the struggle. a vast multitude! but the extent of the serapeum was so enormous that the mass of people was by no means densely packed on the roof, in the halls, and in the underground passages and rooms. there was no crowding anywhere, least of all in the central halls of the temple itself; indeed, in the great vestibule crowned with a dome which formed the entrance, in the vast hall next to it, and in the magnificent hypostyle with a semicircular niche on the furthest side in which stood the far-famed image of the god, there were only scattered groups of men, who looked like dwarfs as the eye compared them with the endless rows of huge columns. the full blaze of day penetrated nowhere but into the circular vestibule, which was lighted by openings in the drum of the cupola that rested on four gigantic columns. in the inner hall there was only dim twilight; while the hypostyle was quite dark, but for a singularly contrived shaft of light which produced a most mysterious effect. the shadows of the great columns in the fore hall, and of the double colonnade on each side of the hypostyle, lay like bands of crape on the many-colored pavement; borders, circles, and ellipses of mosaic diversified the smooth and lucent surface, in which were mirrored the astrological figures which sparkled in brighter hues on the ceiling, the trophies of symbols and mythological groups that graced the walls in tinted high relief, and the statues and hermes between the columns. a wreath of lovely forms and colors dazzled the eye with their multiplicity and profusion, and the heavy atmosphere of incense which filled the halls was almost suffocating, while the magical and mystical signs and figures were so many and so new that the enquiring mind, craving for an explanation and an interpretation of all these incomprehensible mysteries, hardly dared investigate them in detail. a heavy curtain, that looked as though giants must have woven it on a loom of superhuman proportions, hung, like a thick cloud shrouding a mountain-peak, from the very top of the hypostyle, in grand folds over the niche containing the statue, and down to the floor; and while it hid the sacred image from the gaze of the worshipper it attracted his attention by the infinite variety of symbolical patterns and beautiful designs which were woven in it and embroidered on it. the gold and silver vessels and precious jewels that lay concealed by this hanging were of more value than many a mighty king's treasure; and everything was on so vast a scale that man shuddered to feel his own littleness, and the mind sought some new standard of measurement by which to realize such unwonted proportions. the finite here seemed to pass into the infinite; and as the spectator gazed up, with his head thrown back, at the capitals of the lofty columns and the remote height of the ceiling, his sight failed him before he had succeeded in distinguishing or even perceiving a small portion only of the bewildering confusion of figures and emblems that were crowded on to the surface. greek feeling for beauty had here worked hand in hand with oriental taste for gorgeous magnificence, and every detail could bear examination; for there was not a motive of the architecture, not a work of sculpture, painting, or mosaic, not a product of the foundry or the loom, which did not bear the stamp of thorough workmanship and elaborate finish. the ruddy, flecked porphyry, the red, white, green, or yellow marbles which had been used for the decorations were all the finest and purest ever wrought upon by greek craftsmen. each of the hundreds of sculptured works which here had found a home was the masterpiece of some great artist; as the curious visitor lingered in loving contemplation of the mosaics on the polished floor, or examined the ornamental mouldings that framed the reliefs, dividing the walls into panels, he was filled with wonder and delight at the beauty, the elegance and the inventiveness that had given charm, dignity, and significance to every detail. adjoining these great halls devoted especially to the worship of the god, were hundreds of courts, passages, colonnades and rooms, and others not less numerous lay underground. there were long rows of rooms containing above a hundred thousand rolls of books, the famous library of the serapeum, with separate apartments for readers and copyists; there were store-rooms, refectories and assembly-rooms for the high-priests of the temple, for teachers and disciples; while acrid odors came up from the laboratories, and the fragrance of cooking from the kitchen and bakehouses. in the very thickness of the walls of the basement were cells for penitents and recluses, long since abandoned, and rooms for the menials and slaves, of whom hundreds were employed in the precincts; under ground spread the mystical array of halls, grottoes, galleries and catacombs dedicated to the practice of the mysteries and the initiation of neophytes; on the roof stood various observatories--among them one erected for the study of the heavens by eratosthenes, where claudius ptolemaeus had watched and worked. up here astronomers, star-gazers, horoscopists and magians spent their nights, while, far below them, in the temple-courts that were surrounded by store-houses and stables, the blood of sacrificed beasts was shed and the entrails of the victims were examined. the house of serapis was a whole world in little, and centuries had enriched it with wealth, beauty, and the noblest treasures of art and learning. magic and witchcraft hedged it in with a maze of mystical and symbolical secrets, and philosophy had woven a tissue of speculation round the person of the god. the sanctuary was indeed the centre of hellenic culture in the city of alexander; what marvel then, that the heathen should believe that with the overthrow of serapis and his temple, the earth, nay the universe itself must sink into the abyss? anxious spirits and throbbing hearts were those that now sought shelter in the serapeum, fully prepared to perish with their god, and yet eager with enthusiasm to avert his fall if possible. a strange medley indeed of men and women had collected within these sacred precincts! grave sages, philosophers, grammarians, mathematicians, naturalists, and physicians clung to olympius and obeyed him in silence. rhetoricians with shaven faces, magians and sorcerers, whose long beards flowed over robes embroidered with strange figures; students, dressed after the fashion of their forefathers in the palmy days of athens; men of every age, who dubbed themselves artists though they were no more than imitators of the works of a greater epoch, unhappy in that no one at this period of indifference to beauty called upon them to prove what they could do, or to put forth their highest powers. actors, again, from the neglected theatres, starving histrions, to whom the stage was prohibited by the emperor and bishop, singers and fluteplayers; hungry priests and temple-servitors expelled from the closed sanctuaries; lawyers, scribes, ships' captains, artisans, though but very few merchants, for christianity had ceased to be the creed of the poor, and the wealthy attached themselves to the faith professed by those in authority. one of the students had contrived to bring a girl with him, and several others, seeing this, went back into the streets by the secret way and brought in damsels of no very fair repute, till the crowd of men was diversified by a considerable sprinkling of wreathed and painted girls, some of them the outcast maids of various temples, and others priestesses of higher character, who had remained faithful to the old gods or who practised magic arts. among these women one, a tall and dignified matron in mourning robes, was a conspicuous figure. this was berenice, the mother of the young heathen who had been ridden down and wounded in the skirmish near the prefect's house, and whose eyes eusebius had afterwards closed. she had come to the serapeum expressly to avenge her son's death and then to perish with the fall of the gods for whom he had sacrificed his young life. but the mad turmoil that surrounded her was more than she could bear; she stood, hour after hour, closely veiled and absorbed in her own thoughts, neither raising her eyes nor uttering a word, at the foot of a bronze statue of justice dispensing rewards and punishments. olympius had entrusted the command of the little garrison of armed men to memnon, a veteran legate of great experience, who had lost his left arm in the war against the goths. the high-priest himself was occupied alternately in trying to persuade the hastily-collected force to obey their leader, and in settling quarrels, smoothing difficulties, suppressing insubordination, and considering plans with reference to supplies for his adherents, and the offering of a great sacrifice at which all the worshippers of serapis were to assist. karnis kept near his friend, helping him so far as was possible; orpheus, with others of the younger men, had been ordered to the roof, where they were employed-under the scorching sun, reflected from the copper-plated covering and the radiating surface of the dome--in loosening blocks of stone from the balustrade to be hurled down to-morrow on the besieging force. herse devoted herself to the sick and wounded, for a few who had ventured forth too boldly to aid in barricading the entrance, had been hurt by arrows and lances flung by the idle soldiery; and a still greater number were suffering from sun-stroke in consequence of toiling on the top of the building. inside the vast, thick-walled halls it was much cooler than in the streets even, and the hours glided fast to the besieged heathen. many of them were fully occupied, or placed on guard; others were discussing the situation, and disputing or guessing at what the outcome might, or must be. numbers, panic-stricken or absorbed in pious awe, sat huddled on the ground, praying, muttering magical formulas, or wailing aloud. the magians and astrologers had retired with knots of followers into the adjoining studies, where they were comparing registers, making calculations, reading signs, devising new formulas and defending them against their opponents. an incessant bustle went on, to and fro between these rooms and the great library, and the tables were covered with rolls and tablets containing ancient prophecies, horoscopes and potent exorcisms. messengers, one after another, were sent out from thence to command silence in the great halls, where the assembled youths and girls were kissing, singing, shouting and dancing to the shrill pipe of flutes and twang of lutes, clapping their hands, rattling tambourines--in short, enjoying to the utmost the few hours that might yet be theirs before they must make the fatal leap into nothingness, or at least into the dim shades of death. the sun was sinking when suddenly the great brazen gong was loudly struck, and the hard, blatant clatter rent the air of the temple-hall. the mighty waves of sound reverberated from the walls of the sanctuary like the surge of a clangorous sea, and sent their metallic vibration ringing through every room and cell, from the topmost observatory-turret to the deepest vault beneath, calling all who were within the precincts to assemble. the holy places filled at once; the throng poured in through the vestibule, and in a few minutes even the hypostyle, the sanctum of the veiled statue, was full to overflowing. without any distinction of rank or sex, and regardless of all the usual formalities or the degrees of initiation which each had passed through, the worshippers of serapis crowded towards the sacred niche, till a chain, held up by neokores--[temple-servants]--at a respectful distance from the mystical spot, checked their advance. densely packed and in almost breathless silence, they filled the nave and the colonnades, watching for what might befall. presently a dull low chant of men's voices was heard. this went on for a few minutes, and then a loud pean in honor of the god rang through the temple with an accompaniment of flutes, cymbals, lutes and trumpets. karnis had found a place with his wife and son; all three, holding hands, joined enthusiastically in the stirring hymn; and, with them, porphyrius, who by accident was close to them, swelling the song of the multitude. all now stood with hands uplifted and eyes fixed in anxious expectancy on the curtain. the figures and emblems on the hanging were invisible in the gloom--but now-now there was a stir, as of life, in the ponderous folds,--they moved--they began to ripple like streams, brooks, waterfalls, recovering motion after long stagnation--the curtain slowly sank, and at length it fell so suddenly that the eye could scarcely note the instant. from every lip, as but one voice, rose a cry of admiration, amazement, and delight, for serapis stood revealed to his people. the noble manhood of the god sat with dignity on a golden throne that was covered with a blaze of jewels; his gracious and solemn face looked down on the crowd of worshippers. the hair that curled upon his thoughtful brow, and the kalathos that crowned it were of pure gold at his feet crouched cerberus, raising his three fierce heads with glistening ruby eyes. the body of the god--a model of strength in repose--and the drapery were of gold and ivory. in its perfect harmony as a whole, and the exquisite beauty of every detail, this statue bore the stamp of supreme power and divine majesty. when such a divinity as this should rise from his throne the earth indeed might quake and the heavens tremble! before such a lord the strongest might gladly bow, for no mortal ever shone in such radiant beauty. this sovereign must triumph over every foe, even over death--the monster that lay writhing in impotent rage at his feet! gasping and thrilled with pious awe, enraptured but dumb with reverent fear, the assembled thousands gazed on the god dimly revealed to them in the twilight, when suddenly, for a moment of solemn glory, a ray of the setting sun--a shaft of intense brightness--pierced the star-spangled apse of the niche and fell on the lips of the god as though to kiss its lord and father. a shout like a thunder-clap-like the roar of breakers on a reef, burst from the spectators; a shout of triumph so mighty that the statues quivered, the brazen altars rang, the hangings swayed, the sacred vessels clattered and the lamps trembled and swung; the echo rolled round the aisles like a whirlpool at the flood, and was dashed from pillar to column in a hundred wavelets of sound. the glorious sun still recognized its lord; serapis still reigned in undiminished might; he had not yet lost the power to defend himself, his world and his children! the sun was gone, night fell on the temple and suddenly there was a swaying movement of the apse above the statue; the stars were shaken by invisible hands, and colored flames twinkled with dazzling brightness from a myriad five-rayed perforations. once more the god was revealed to his worshippers under a flood of magical glory, and now fully visible in his unique beauty. again the great halls rang with the acclamations of the delirious throng; olympius stepped forth, arrayed in a flowing robe with the insignia and decorations of the high-priesthood; standing in front of the image he poured on the pedestal a libation to the gods out of a golden cup, and waved a censer of the costliest incense. then, in burning words, he exhorted all the followers of serapis to fight and conquer for their god, or--if need must--to perish for and with him. he added a fervent prayer in a loud ringing voice--a cry for help that came from the bottom of his heart, and went to the souls of his hearers. then a solemn hymn was chanted as the curtain was raised; and while the assembled multitude watched it rise in reverent silence, the templeservants lighted the lamps that illuminated the sanctuary from every cornice and pillar. karnis had left hold of his companions' hands, for he wanted to wipe away the tears of devotional excitement that flowed down his withered cheeks; orpheus had thrown his arms round his mother, and porphyrius, who had joined a group of philosophers and sages, sent a glance of sympathy to the old musician. chapter xix. by an hour after sunset the sacrifice of a bull in the great court of the serapeum was consummated, and the moscosphragist announced that the god had graciously accepted it--the examination of the entrails showed more favorable indications than it had the day before. the flesh of the slaughtered beast went forthwith to the kitchen; and, if the savor of roast beef that presently rose up was as grateful to serapis as to his worshippers, they might surely reckon on a happy issue from the struggle. the besieged, indeed, were, ere long, in excellent spirits; for olympius had taken care to store the cellars of the sanctuary with plenty of good wine, and the happy auguries drawn from the appearance of the god and the state of the victim had filled them with fresh confidence. as there was not sleeping accommodation for nearly all the men, they had to turn night into day; and as, to most of them, life consisted wholly in the enjoyment of the moment, and all was delightful that was new or strange, they soon eat and drank themselves into a valiant frame of mind. couches, such as they were wont to be on at meals, there were not, so each man snatched up the first thing he could lay his hands on to serve as a seat. when cups were lacking the jugs and vessels from the sanctuary were sent for, and passed from one to another. many a youth lounged with his head in some fair one's lap; many a girl leaned back to back with some old man; and as flowers were not to be had, messengers were sent to the town to buy them, with vine-wreaths and other greenery. they were easily procured, and with them came the news that the races were to be held next morning. this information was regarded by many as being of the first importance; nicarchus, the son of the rich hippocleides, and zenodotus a weaver of tapestry--whose quadriga had once proved victorious--hastily made their way into the town to give the requisite orders in their stables, and they were closely followed by hippias, the handsome agitator, who was the favorite driver in the arena for the horses belonging to wealthy owners. in the train of these three every lover of horses vanished from the scene, with a number of hippias' friends, and of flower-sellers, doorkeepers, and ticket-holders-in short, of all who expected to derive special pleasure or profit from the games. each man reflected that one could not be missed, and as the god was favorably disposed he might surely contrive to defend his own temple till after the races were over; they would then return to conquer or die with the rest. then some others began to think of wives and children in bed at home, and they, too, departed; still, by far the larger proportion remained behind--above three thousand in all, men and women. these at once possessed themselves of the half-emptied wine-jars left by the deserters; gay music was got up, and then, wreathed with garlands on their heads and shoulders, and 'filled with the god' they drank, shouted and danced far into the night. the merry feast soon became a wild orgy; loud cries of evoe, and tumultuous singing reached the ears of the magians, who had once more settled down to calculations and discussions over their rolls and tablets. the mother of the youth that had been killed still sat huddled at the foot of the statue of justice, enduring the anguish of listening to these drunken revels with dull resignation. every shout of laughter, every burst of mad mirth from the revellers above cut her to the heart--and yet, how they would have gladdened her if only one other voice could have mingled with those hundreds! when olympius, still in his fullest dress, and carrying his head loftily as became him, made his way through the temple at the head of his subordinates, he noticed berenice--whom he had known as a proud and happy mother--and begged her to join the friends whom he had bidden to his own table; but she dreaded any social contact with men whom she knew, and preferred to remain where she was at the feet of the goddess. wherever the high-priest went he was hailed with enthusiasm: "rejoice," he would say to encourage the feasters, cheering them with wise and fervid exhortations, reminding them of pharaoh mycerinus who, having been told by an oracle that he had only six years to live, determined to prove the prophecy false, and by carousing through every night made the six years allotted to him a good dozen. "imitate him!" cried olympius as he raised a cup to his lips, "crowd the joys of a year into the few hours that still are left us, and pour a libation to the god as i do, out of every cup ere you drink." his appeal was answered by a rapturous shout; the flutes and cymbals piped and clanged, metal cups rang sharply as the drinkers pledged each other, and the girls thumped their tambourines, till the calf-skin droned and the bells in the frames tinkled shrilly. olympius thanked them, and bowed on all sides, as he walked from group to group of his adherents. seldom, indeed, had his heart beat so high! his end perhaps was very near, but it should at least be worthy of his life. he knew how the sunbeam had been reflected so as to kiss the statue's lips. for centuries had this startling little scene and the sudden illumination of the niche round the head of the god been worked in precisely the same way at high festivals--[they are mentioned by rufinus.]--these were mere stimulants to the dull souls of the vulgar who needed to be stirred up by the miraculous power of the god, which the elect recognized throughout the universe, in the wondrous co-operation of forces and results in nature, and in the lives of men. he, for his part, firmly believed in serapis and his might, and in the prophecies and calculations which declared that his fall must involve the dissolution of the organic world and its relapse into chaos. many winds were battling in the air, each one driving the ship of life towards the whirlpool. to-day or to-morrow--what matter which? the threatened cataclysm had no terrors for olympius. one thing only was a pang to his vanity: no succeeding generations would preserve the memory of his heroic struggle and death for the cause of the gods. but all was not yet lost, and his sunny nature read in the glow of the dying clay the promise and dawn of a brilliant morrow. if the expected succor should arrive--if the good cause should triumph here in alexandria--if the rising were to be general throughout greek heathendom, then indeed had he been rightly named olympius by his parents--then he would not change places with any god of olympus--then the glory of his name, more lasting than bronze or marble, would shine forth like the sun, so long as one greek heart honored the ancient gods and loved its native land. this night--perhaps its last--should see a grand, a sumptuous feast; he invited his friends and adherents--the leaders of spiritual life in alexandria--to a 'symposium', after the manner of the philosophers and dilettanti of ancient athens, to be held in the great concert-hall of the serapeum. how different was its aspect from that of the bishop's council-chamber! the christians sat within bare walls, on wooden benches, round a plain table; the large room in which olympius received his supporters was magnificently decorated, and furnished with treasures of art in fine inlaid work, beaten brass and purple stuffs-a hall for kings to meet in. thick cushions, covered with lion and panther-skins, tempted fatigue or indolence; and when the hero of the hour joined his guests, after his progress through the precincts, every couch was occupied. to his right lay helladius, the famous grammarian and high-priest of zeus; porphyrius, the benefactor of the serapeum, was on his left; even karnis had been allotted a place in his old friend's social circle, and greatly appreciated the noble juice of the grape, that was passed round, as well as the eager and intelligent friction of minds, from which he had long been cut off. olympius himself was unanimously chosen symposiarch, and he invited the company to discuss, in the first instance, the time-honored question: which was the highest good? one and all, he said, they were standing on a threshold, as it were; and as travellers, quitting an old and beloved home to seek a new and unknown one in a distant land, pause to consider what particular joy that they have known under the shelter of the old penates has been the dearest, so it would beseem them to reflect, at this supreme moment, what had been the highest good of their life in this world. they were on the eve, perhaps, of a splendid victory; but, perchance, on the other hand, their foot was already on the plank that led from the shore of life to charon's bark. the subject was a familiar one and a warm discussion was immediately started. the talk was more flowery and brilliant, no doubt, than in old athens, but it led to no deeper views and threw no clearer light on the well-worn question. the wranglers could only quote what had been said long since as to the highest good, and when presently helladius called upon them to bring their minds to bear on the nature of humanity, a vehement disputation arose as to whether man were the best or the worst of created beings. this led to various utterances as to the mystical connection of the spiritual and material worlds, and nothing could be more amazing than the power of imagination which had enabled these mystical thinkers to people with spirits and daemons every circle of the ladder-like structure which connected the incomprehensible and selfsufficing one with the divine manifestation known as man. it became quite intelligible that many alexandrians should fear to fling a stone lest it might hit one of the good daemons of which the air was full-a spirit of light perhaps, or a protecting spirit. the more obscure their theories, the more were they overloaded with image and metaphor; all simplicity of statement was lost, and yet the disputants prided themselves on the brilliancy of their language and the wealth of their ideas. they believed that they had brought the transcendental within the grasp of intelligent sense, and that their empty speculations had carried them far beyond the narrow limits of the ancients. karnis was in raptures; porphyrius only wished for gorgo by his side, for, like all fathers, he would rather that his child should have enjoyed this supreme intellectual treat than himself. ........................ in porphyrius' house, meanwhile, all was gloom and anxiety. in spite of the terrific heat damia would not be persuaded to come down from the turret-room where she had collected all the instruments, manuals and formulas used by astrologers and magians. a certain priest of saturn, who had a great reputation as a master of such arts, and who, for many years, had been her assistant whenever she sought to apply her science to any important event, was in attendance--to give her the astrological tables, to draw circles, ellipses or triangles at her bidding, to interpret the mystical sense of numbers or letters, which now and then escaped her aged memory; he made her calculations or tested those she made herself, and read out the incantations which she thought efficacious under the circumstances. occasionally, too, he suggested some new method or fresh formula by which she might verify her results. she had fasted, according to rule, the whole forenoon, and was frequently so far overcome by the heat as to drop asleep in the midst of her studies; then, when she woke with a start, if her assistant had meanwhile worked out his calculation to a result contrary to her anticipations, she took him up sharply and made him begin again from the beginning. gorge, went up from time to time; but, though she offered the old woman refreshment prepared by her own hand, she could not persuade her even to moisten her lips with a little fruitsyrup, for to break the prescribed fast might endanger 3the accuracy of her prognostications and the result of all her labor. however, when she seemed to doze, her granddaughter sprinkled strong waters about the room to freshen the air, poured a few drops on the old lady's dress, wiped the dews from her brow, and fanned her to cool her. damia submitted to all this; and though she had only closed her weary eyes, she pretended to be asleep in order to have the pleasure of being cared for by her darling. towards noon she dismissed the magian and allowed herself a short interval of rest and sleep; but as soon as she woke she collected her wits, and set to work again with fresh zeal and diligence. when, at last, she had mastered all the signs and omens, she knew for certain that nothing could avert the awful doom foretold by the oracles of old. the fall of serapis and the end of the world were at hand. the magian covered his head as he saw, plainly demonstrated, how she had reached this conclusion, and he groaned in sincere terror; she, however, dismissed him with perfect equanimity, handing him her purse, which she had filled in the morning, and saying: "to last till the end." the sun was now long past the meridian and the old woman, quite worn out, threw herself back in her chair and desired gorgo to let no one disturb her; nay, not to return herself till she was sent for. as soon as damia was alone she gazed at herself in a mirror for some little time, murmuring the seven vocables incessantly while she did so; and then she fixed her eyes intently on the sky. these strange proceedings were directed to a particular end, she was endeavoring to close her senses to the external world, to become blind, deaf, and impervious to everything material--the polluting burthen which divided her divine and spiritual part from the celestia fount whence it was derived; to set her soul free from its earthly shroud--free to gaze on the god that was its father. she had already more than once nearly attained to this state by long fasting and resolute abstraction and once, in a moment she could never forget, had enjoyed the dizzy ecstasy of feeling herself float, as it were through infinite space, like a cloud, bathed in glorious radiance. the fatigue that had been gradually over powering her now seconded her efforts; she soon felt slight tremor; a cold sweat broke out all over her; she lost all consciousness of her limbs, and all sense of sighs and hearing; a fresher and cooler air seemed to revive not her lungs only, but every part of her body, while undulating rays of red and violet light danced before her eyes. was not their strange radiance an emanation from the eternal glory that she sought? was not some mysterious power uplifting her, bearing her towards the highest goal? was her soul already free from the bondage of the flesh? had she indeed become one with god and had her earnest seeking for the divinity ended in glorification? no; her arms which she had thrown up as if to fly, fell by her side it was all in vain. a pain--a trifling pain in her foot, had brought her down again to the base world of sense which she so ardently strove to soar away from. several times she took up the mirror, looked in it fixedly as before, and then gazed upwards; but each time that she lost consciousness of the material world and that her liberated soul began to move its unfettered pinions, some little noise, the twitch of a muscle, a fly settling on her hand, a drop of perspiration falling from her brow on to her cheek, roused her senses to reassert themselves. why--why was it so difficult to shake off this burthen of mortal clay? she thought of herself as of a sculptor who chisels away all superfluous material froth his block of marble, to reveal the image of the god within; but it was easier to remove the enclosing stone than to release the soul from the body to which it was so closely knit. still, she did not give up the struggle to attain the object which others had achieved before her; but she got no nearer to it--indeed, less and less near, for, between her and that hoped-for climax, rose up a series of memories and strange faces which she could not get rid of. the chisel slipped aside, went wrong or lost its edge before the image could be extracted from the block. one illusion after another floated before her eyes first it was gorgo, the idol of her old heart, lying pale and fair on a sea of surf that rocked her on its watery waste--up high on the crest of a wave and then deep down in the abyss that yawned behind it. she, too--so young, a hardly-opened blossom--must perish in the universal ruin, and be crushed by the same omnipotent hand that could overthrow the greatest of the gods; and a glow of passionate hatred snatched her away from the aim of her hopes. then the dream changed she saw a scattered flock of ravens flying in wide circles, at an unattainable height, against the clouds; suddenly they vanished and she saw, in a grey mist, the monument to porphyrius' wife, gorgo's long-departed mother. she had often visited the mausoleum with tender emotion, but she did not want to see it now-not now, and she shook it off; but in its place rose up the image of her daughter-in-law herself, the dweller in that tomb, and no effort of will or energy availed to banish that face. she saw the dead woman as she had seen her on the last fateful occasion in her short life. a solemn and festal procession was passing out through the door of their house, headed by flute-players and singing-girls; then came a white bull; a garland of the scarlet flowers of the pomegranate--[this tree was regarded as the symbol of fertility, on account of its many-seeded fruit.]--hung round its massive neck, and its horns were gilt. by its side walked slaves, carrying white baskets full of bread and cakes and heaps of flowers, and these were followed by others, bearing light-blue cages containing geese and doves. the bull, the calves, the flowers and the birds were all to be deposited in the temple of eileithyia, as a sacrifice to the protecting goddess of women in child-birth. close behind the bull came gorgo's mother, dressed with wreaths, walking slowly and timidly, with shy, downcast eyes-thinking perhaps of the anguish to come, and putting up a silent prayer. damia followed with the female friends of the house, the clients and their wives and some personal attendants, all carrying pomegranates in the right hand, and holding in the left a long wreath of flowers which thus connected the whole procession. in this order they reached the ship-yard; but at that spot they were met by a band of crazy monks from the desert monasteries, who, seeing the beast for sacrifice, abused them loudly, cursing the heathen. the slaves indignantly drove them off, but then the starveling anchorites fell upon the innocent beast which was the chief abomination in their eyes. the bull tossed his huge head, snuffing and snorting to right and left, stuck out his tail and rushed away from the boy whose guidance he had till now meekly followed, flung a monk high in the air with his huge horns, and then turned in his fury on the women who were behind. they fled like a flock of doves on which a hawk comes swooping down; some were driven quite into the lake and others up against the paling of the shipyard, while damia herself--who was going through it all again in the midst of her efforts to rise to the divinity--and the young wife whom she had vainly tried to shelter and support, were both knocked down. to that hour of terror gorgo owed her birth, while to her mother it was death. on the following day alexandria beheld a funeral ceremony as solemn, as magnificent, and as crowded as though a conquering hero were being entombed; it was that of the monk whom the bull had gored; the bishop had proclaimed that by this attack on the abomination of desolation--the blood-sacrifice of idolatry--he had won an eternal crown in paradise. but now the black ravens crossed damia's vision once more, till presently a handsome young greek gaily drove them off with his thyrsus. his powerful and supple limbs shone with oil, applied in the gymnasium of timagetes, the scene of his frequent triumphs in all the sports and exercises of the youthful greeks. his features and waving hair were those of her son apelles; but suddenly his aspect changed: he was an emaciated penitent, his knees bent under the weight of a heavy cross; his widow, mary, had declared him a martyr to the cause of the crucified jew and defamed his memory in the eyes of his own son and of all men. damia clenched her trembling hands. again those ravens came swirling round, flapping their wings wildly over the prostrate penitent. then her husband appeared to her, calmly indifferent to the birds of illomen. he looked just as she remembered him many--so many years ago, when he had come in smiling and said: "the best stroke of business i ever did! for a sprinkling of water i have secured the corn trade with thessalonica and constantinople; that is a hundred gold solidi for each drop." yes, he had made a good bargain. the profits of that day's work were multiplied by tens, and water, nothing in the world but nile water-baptismal water the priest had called it--had filled her son's moneybags, too, and had turned their plot of land into broad estates; but it had been tacitly understood that this sprinkling of water established a claim for a return, and this both father and son had solemnly promised. its magic turned everything they touched to gold, but it brought a blight on the peace of the household. one branch, which had grown up in the traditions of the old macedonian stock, had separated from the other; and her husband's great lie lay between them and the family still living in the canopic way, like a wide ocean embittered with the salt of hatred. that he had infused poison into his son's life and compelled him, proud as he was, to forfeit the dignity of a free and high-minded man. though devoted in his heart to the old gods he had humbled himself, year after year, to bow the knee with the hated votaries of the christian faith, and in their church, to their crucified lord, and had publicly confessed christ. the water--the terrible thaumaturgic stream--clung to him more inseparably than the brand-mark on a slave's arm. it could neither be dried up nor wiped away; for if the false christian, who was really a zealous heathen, had boldly confessed the olympian gods and abjured the odious new faith, the gifts of the all-powerful water and all the possessions of their old family would be confiscated to the state and church, and the children of porphyrius, the grandchildren of the wealthy damia, would be beggars. and this--all this--for the sake of a crucified jew. the gods be praised the end of all this wretchedness was at hand! a thrill of ecstasy ran through her as she reflected that with herself and her children, every soul, everything that bore the name of christian would be crushed, shattered and annihilated. she could have laughed aloud but that her throat was so dry, her tongue so parched; but her scornful triumph was expressed in every feature, as her fancy showed her marcus riding along the canopic street with that little heathen hussy dada, the singing girl, while her much-hated daughter-in-law looked after them, beating her forehead in grief and rage. quite beside herself with delight the old woman rocked backwards and forwards in her chair; not for long, however, for the black birds seemed to fill the whole room, describing swift, interminable spirals round her head. she could not hear them, but she could see them, and the whirling vortex fascinated her; she could not help turning her head to follow their flight; she grew giddy and she was forced to try to recover her balance. the old woman sat huddled in her chair, her hands convulsively clutching the arms, like a horseman whose steed has run away with him round and round the arena; till at length, worn out by excitement and exhaustion, she became unconscious, and sank in a heap on the ground, rigid and apparently lifeless. etext editor's bookmarks: christianity had ceased to be the creed of the poor he spoke with pompous exaggeration whether man were the best or the worst of created beings this ebook was produced by david widger <widger@cecomet.net> [note: there is a short list of bookmarks, or pointers, at the end of the file for those who may wish to sample the author's ideas before making an entire meal of them. d.w.] joshua by georg ebers volume 3. chapter xv. for a long time nothing was heard beneath the sycamore save miriam's low moans and the impatient footsteps of the warrior who, while struggling for composure, did not venture to disturb her. he could not yet understand what had suddenly towered like a mountain between him and the object of his love. he had learned from hur's words that his father and moses rejected all mediation, yet the promises he was bearing to the people seemed to him a merciful gift from the most high. none of his race yet knew it and, if moses was the man whom he believed him to be, the lord must open his eyes and show him that he had chosen him, hosea, to lead the people through his mediation to a fairer future; nor did he doubt that he could easily win his father over to his side. he would even have declared a second time, with the firmest faith, that it was the most high who had pointed out his path, and after reflecting upon all this he approached miriam, who had at last risen, with fresh confidence. his loving heart prompted him to clasp her in his arms, but she thrust him back and her voice, usually so pure and clear, sounded harsh and muffled as she asked why he had lingered so long and what he intended to confide to her. while cowering under the sycamore, she had not only struggled and prayed for composure, but also gazed into her own soul. she loved hosea, but she suspected that he came with proposals similar to those of uri, and the wrathful words of hoary nun rang in her ears more loudly than ever. the fear that the man she loved was walking in mistaken paths, and the startling act of hur had made the towering waves of her passion subside and her mind, now capable of calmer reflection, desired first of all to know what had so long detained him whom she had summoned in the name of her god, and why he came alone, without ephraim. the clear sky was full of stars, and these heavenly bodies, which seem to have been appointed to look down upon the bliss of united human lovers, now witnessed the anxious questions of a tortured girl and the impatient answers of a fiery, bitterly disappointed man. he began with the assurance of his love and that he had come to make her his wife; but, though she permitted him to hold her hand in his clasp, she entreated him to cease pleading his suit and first tell her what she desired to know. on his way he had received various reports concerning ephraim through a brother-in-arms from tanis, so he could tell her that the lad had been disobedient and, probably from foolish curiosity, had gone, ill and wounded, to the city, where he had found shelter and care in the house of a friend. but this troubled miriam, who seemed to regard it as a reproach to know that the orphaned, inexperienced lad, who had grown up under her own eyes and whom she herself had sent forth among strangers, was beneath an egyptian roof. but hosea declared that he would undertake the task of bringing him back to his people and as, nevertheless she continued to show her anxiety, asked whether he had forfeited her confidence and love. instead of giving him a consoling answer, she began to put more questions, desiring to know what had delayed his coming, and so, with a sorely troubled and wounded heart, he was forced to make his report and, in truth, begin at the end of his story. while she listened, leaning against the trunk of the sycamore, he paced to and fro, urged by longing and impatience, sometimes pausing directly in front of her. naught in this hour seemed to him worthy of being clothed in words, save the hope and passion which filled his heart. had he been sure that hers was estranged he would have dashed away again, after having revealed his whole soul to his father, and risked the ride into unknown regions to seek moses. to win miriam and save himself from perjury were his only desires, and momentous as had been his experiences and expectations, during the last few days, he answered her questions hastily, as if they concerned the most trivial things. he began his narrative in hurried words, and the more frequently she interrupted him, the more impatiently he bore it, the deeper grew the lines in his forehead. hosea, accompanied by his attendant, had ridden southward several hours full of gladsome courage and rich in budding hopes, when just before dusk he saw a vast multitude moving in advance of him. at first he supposed he had encountered the rear-guard of the migrating hebrews, and had urged his horse to greater speed. but, ere he overtook the wayfarers, some peasants and carters who had abandoned their wains and beasts of burden rushed past him with loud outcries and shouts of warning which told him that the people moving in front were lepers. and the fugitives' warning had been but too well founded; for the first, who turned with the heartrending cry: "unclean! unclean!" bore the signs of those attacked by the fell disease, and from their distorted faces covered with white dust and scurf, lustreless eyes, destitute of brows, gazed at him. hosea soon recognized individuals, here egyptian priests with shaven heads, yonder hebrew men and women. with the stern composure of a soldier, he questioned both and learned that they were marching from the stone quarries opposite memphis to their place of isolation on the eastern shore of the nile. several of the hebrews among them had heard from their relatives that their people had left egypt and gone to seek a land which the lord had promised them. many had therefore resolved to put their trust also in the mighty god of their fathers and follow the wanderers; the egyptian priests, bound to the hebrews by the tie of a common misfortune, had accompanied them, and fixed upon succoth as the goal of their journey, knowing that moses intended to lead his people there first. but every one who could have directed them on their way had fled before them, so they had kept too far northward and wandered near the fortress of thabne. hosea had met them a mile from this spot and advised them to turn back, that they might not bring their misfortune upon their fugitive brethren. during this conversation, a body of egyptian soldiers had marched from the fortress toward the lepers to drive them from the road; but their commander, who knew hosea, used no violence, and both men persuaded the leaders of the lepers to accept the proposal to be guided to the peninsula of sinai, where in the midst of the mountains, not far from the mines, a colony of lepers had settled. they had agreed to this plan because hosea promised them that, if the tribes went eastward, they would meet them and receive everyone who was healed; but if the hebrews remained in egypt, nevertheless the pure air of the desert would bring health to many a sufferer, and every one who recovered would be free to return home. these negotiations had consumed much time, and the first delay was followed by many others; for as hosea had been in such close contact with the lepers, he was obliged to ride to thabne, there with the commander of the garrison, who had stood by his side, to be sprinkled with bird's blood, put on new garments, and submit to certain ceremonies which he himself considered necessary and which could be performed only in the bright sunlight. his servant had been kept in the fortress because the kind-hearted man had shaken hands with a relative whom he met among the hapless wretches. the cause of the delay had been both sorrowful and repulsive, and not until after hosea had left thabne in the afternoon and proceeded on his way to succoth, did hope and joy again revive at the thought of seeing miriam once more and bringing to his people a message that promised so much good. his heart had never throbbed faster or with more joyous anticipation than on the nocturnal ride which led him to his father and the woman he loved, and on reaching his goal, instead of the utmost happiness, he now found only bitter disappointment. he had reluctantly described in brief, disconnected sentences his meeting with the lepers, though he believed he had done his best for the welfare of these unfortunates. all of his warrior comrades had uttered a word of praise; but when he paused she whose approval he valued above aught else, pointed to a portion of the camp and said sadly: "they are of our blood, and our god is theirs. the lepers in zoan, pha-kos and phibeseth followed the others at a certain distance, and their tents are pitched outside the camp. those in succoth--there are not many--will also be permitted to go forth with us; for when the lord promised the people the land for which they long, he meant lofty and lowly, poor and humble, and surely also the hapless ones who must now remain in the hands of the foe. would you not have done better to separate the hebrews from the egyptians, and guide those of our own blood to us?" the warrior's manly pride rebelled and his answer sounded grave and stern: "in war we must resolve to sacrifice hundreds in order to save thousands. the shepherds separate the scabby sheep to protect the flock." "true," replied miriam eagerly; "for the shepherd is a feeble man, who knows no remedy against contagion; but the lord, who calls all his people, will suffer no harm to arise from rigid obedience." "that is a woman's mode of thought," replied hosea; "but what pity dictates to her must not weigh too heavily in the balance in the councils of men. you willingly obey the voice of the heart, which is most proper, but you should not forget what befits you and your sex." a deep flush crimsoned miriam's cheeks; for she felt the sting contained in this speech with two-fold pain because it was hosea who dealt the thrust. how many pangs she had been compelled to endure that day on account of her sex, and now he, too, made her feel that she was not his peer because she was a woman. in the presence of the stones hur had gathered, and on which her hand now rested, he had appealed to her verdict, as though she were one of the leaders of the people, and now he abruptly thrust her, who felt herself inferior to no man in intellect and talent, back into a woman's narrow sphere. but he, too, felt his dignity wounded, and her bearing showed him that this hour would decide whether he or she would have the mastery in their future union. he stood proudly before her, his mien stern in its majesty--never before had he seemed so manly, so worthy of admiration. yet the desire to battle for her insulted womanly dignity gained supremacy over every other feeling, and it was she who at last broke the brief, painful silence that had followed his last words, and with a composure won only by the exertion of all her strength of will, she began: "we have both forgotten what detains us here so late at night. you wished to confide to me what brings you to your people and to hear, not what miriam, the weak woman, but the confidante of the lord decides." "i hoped also to hear the voice of the maiden on whose love i rely," he answered gloomily. "you shall hear it," she replied quickly, taking her hand from the stones. "yet it may be that i cannot agree with the opinion of the man whose strength and wisdom are so far superior to mine, yet you have just shown that you cannot tolerate the opposition of a woman, not even mine." "miriam," he interrupted reproachfully, but she continued still more eagerly: "i have felt it, and because it would be the greatest grief of my life to lose your heart, you must learn to understand me, ere you call upon me to express my opinion." "first hear my message." "no, no!" she answered quickly. "the reply would die upon my lips. let me first tell you of the woman who has a loving heart, and yet knows something else that stands higher than love. do you smile? you have a right to do so, you have so long been a stranger to the secret i mean to confide. . . ." "speak then!" he interrupted, in a tone which betrayed how difficult it was for him to control his impatience. "i thank you," she answered warmly. then leaning against the trunk of the ancient tree, while he sank down on the bench, gazing alternately at the ground and into her face, she began: "childhood already lies behind me, and youth will soon follow. when i was a little girl, there was not much to distinguish me from others. i played like them and, though my mother had taught me to pray to the god of our fathers, i was well pleased to listen to the other children's tales of the goddess isis. nay, i stole into her temple, bought spices, plundered our little garden for her, anointed her altar, and brought flowers for offerings. i was taller and stronger than many of my companions, and was also the daughter of amram, so they followed me and readily did what i suggested. when i was eight years old, we moved hither from zoan. ere i again found a girl-playfellow, you came to gamaliel, your sister's husband, to be cured of the wound dealt by a libyan's lance. do you remember that time when you, a youth, made the little girl a companion? i brought you what you needed and prattled to you of the things i knew, but you told me of bloody battles and victories, of flashing armor, and the steeds and chariots of the warrior, you showed me the ring your daring had won, and when the wound in your breast was cured, we roved over the pastures. isis, whom you also loved, had a temple here, and how often i secretly slipped into the forecourt to pray for you and offer her my holiday-cakes. i had heard so much from you of pharaoh and his splendor, of the egyptians, and their wisdom, their art, and luxurious life, that my little heart longed to live among them in the capital; besides, it had reached my ears that my brother moses had received great favors in pharaoh's palace and risen to distinction in the priesthood. i no longer cared for our own people; they seemed to me inferior to the egyptians in all respects. "then came the parting from you and, as my little heart was devout and expected all good gifts from the divine power, no matter what name it bore, i prayed for pharaoh and his army, in whose ranks you were fighting. "my mother sometimes spoke of the god of our fathers as a mighty protector, to whom the people in former days owed much gratitude, and told me many beautiful tales of him; but she herself often offered sacrifices in the temple of seth, or carried clover blossoms to the sacred bull of the sun-god. she, too, was kindly disposed toward the egyptians, among whom her pride and joy, our moses, had attained such high honors. "so in happy intercourse with the others i reached my fifteenth year. in the evening, when the shepherds returned home, i sat with the young people around the fire, and was pleased when the sons of the shepherd princes preferred me to my companions and sought my love; but i refused them all, even the egyptian captain who commanded the garrison of the storehouse; for i remembered you, the companion of my youth. my best possession would not have seemed too dear a price to pay for some magic spell that would have brought you to us when, at the festal games, i danced and sang to the tambourine while the loudest shouts of applause greeted me. whenever many were listening i thought of you--then i poured forth like the lark the feelings that filled my heart, then my song was inspired by you and not by the fame of the most high, to whom it was consecrated." here passion, with renewed power, seized the man, to whom the woman he loved was confessing so many blissful memories. suddenly starting up, he extended his arms toward her; but she sternly repulsed him, that she might control the yearning which threatened to overpower her also. yet her deep voice had gained a new, strange tone as, at first rapidly and softly, then in louder and firmer accents, she continued: "so i attained my eighteenth year and was no longer satisfied to dwell in succoth. an indescribable longing, and not for you only, had taken possession of my soul. what had formerly afforded me pleasure now seemed shallow, and the monotony of life here in the remote frontier city amid shepherds and flocks, appeared dull and pitiful. "eleasar, aaron's son, had taught me to read and brought me books, full of tales which could never have happened, yet which stirred the heart. many also contained hymns and fervent songs such as one lover sings to another. these made a deep impression on my soul and, whenever i was alone in the evening, or at noon-day when the shepherds and flocks were far away in the fields, i repeated these songs or composed new ones, most of which were hymns in praise of the deity. sometimes they extolled amon with the ram's head, sometimes cow-headed isis, and often, too, the great and omnipotent god who revealed himself to abraham, and of whom my mother spoke more and more frequently as she advanced in years. to compose such hymns in quiet hours, wait for visions revealing god's grandeur and splendor, or beautiful angels and horrible demons, became my favorite occupation. the merry child had grown a dreamy maiden, who let household affairs go as they would. and there was no one who could have warned me, for my mother had followed my father to the grave; and i now lived alone with my old aunt rachel, unhappy myself, and a source of joy to no one. aaron, the oldest of our family, had removed to the dwelling of his father-in-law amminadab: the house of amram, his heritage, had become too small and plain for him and he left it to me. my companions avoided me; for my mirthfulness had departed and i patronized them with wretched arrogance because i could compose songs and beheld more in my visions than all the other maidens. "nineteen years passed and, on the evening of my birthday, which no one remembered save milcah, eleasar's daughter, the most high for the first time sent me a messenger. he came in the guise of an angel, and bade me set the house in order; for a guest, the person dearest to me on earth, was on the way. "it was early and under this very tree; but i went home and, with old rachel's help, set the house in order, and provided food, wine, and all else we offer to an honored guest. noon came, the afternoon passed away, evening deepened into night, and morning returned, yet i still waited for the guest. but when the sum of that day was nearing the western horizon, the dogs began to bark loudly, and when i went to the door a powerful man, with tangled grey hair and beard, clad in the tattered white robes of a priest, hurried toward me. the dogs shrank back whining; but i recognized my brother. "our meeting after so long a separation at first brought me more fear than pleasure; for moses was flying from the officers of the law because he had slain the overseer. you know the story. "wrath still glowed in his flashing eyes. he seemed to me like the god seth in his fury, and each one of his slow words was graven upon my soul as by a hammer and chisel. thrice seven days and nights he remained under my roof, and as i was alone with him and deaf rachel, and he was compelled to remain concealed, no one came between us, and he taught me to know him who is the god of our fathers. "trembling and despairing, i listened to his powerful words, which seemed to fall like rocks upon my breast, when he admonished me of god's requirements, or described the grandeur and wrath of him whom no mind can comprehend, and no name can describe. ah, when he spoke of him and of the egyptian gods, it seemed as if the god of my people stood before me like a giant, whose head touched the sky, and the other gods were creeping in the dust at his feet like whining curs. "he taught me also that we alone were the people whom the lord had chosen, we and no other. then for the first time i was filled with pride at being a descendant of abraham, and every hebrew seemed a brother, every daughter of israel a sister. now, too, i perceived how cruelly my people had been enslaved and tortured. i had been blind to their suffering, but moses opened my eyes and sowed in my heart hate, intense hate of their oppressors, and from this hate sprang love for the victims. i vowed to follow my brother and await the summons of my god. and lo, he did not tarry and jehovah's voice spoke to me as with tongues. "old rachel died. at moses' bidding i gave up my solitary life and accepted the invitation of aaron and amminadab. "so i became a guest in their household, yet led a separate life among them all. they did not interfere with me, and the sycamore here on their land became my special property. beneath its shadow god commanded me to summon you and bestow on you the name "help of jehovah"--and you, no longer hosea, but joshua, will obey the mandate of god and his prophetess." here the warrior interrupted the maiden's words, to which he had listened earnestly, yet with increasing disappointment: "ay, i have obeyed you and the most high. but what it cost me you disdain to ask. your story has reached the present time, yet you have made no mention of the days following my mother's death, during which you were our guest in tanis. have you forgotten what first your eyes and then your lips confessed? have the day of your departure and the evening on the sea, when you bade me hope for and remember you, quite vanished from your memory? did the hatred moses implanted in your heart kill love as well as every other feeling?" "love?" asked miriam, raising her large eyes mournfully to his. "oh no. how could i forget that time, the happiest of my life! yet from the day moses returned from the wilderness by god's command to release the people from bondage--three months after my separation from you--i have taken no note of years and months, days and nights." "then you have forgotten those also?" hosea asked harshly. "not so," miriam answered, gazing beseechingly into his face. "the love that grew up in the child and did not wither in the maiden's heart, cannot be killed; but whoever consecrates one's life to the lord....." here she suddenly paused, raised her hands and eyes rapturously, as if borne out of herself, and cried imploringly: "thou art near me, omnipotent one, and seest my heart! thou knowest why miriam took no note of days and years, and asked nothing save to be thy instrument until her people, who are, also, this man's people, received what thou didst promise." during this appeal, which rose from the inmost depths of the maiden's heart, the light wind which precedes the coming of dawn had risen, and the foliage in the thick crown of the sycamore above miriam's head rustled; but hosea fairly devoured with his eyes the tall majestic figure, half illumined, half veiled by the faint glimmering light. what he heard and saw seemed like a miracle. the lofty future she anticipated for her people, and which must be realized ere she would permit herself to yield to the desire of her own heart, he believed that he was hearing to them as a messenger of the lord. as if rapt by the noble enthusiasm of her soul, he rushed toward her, seized her hand, and cried in glad emotion: "then the hour has come which will again permit you to distinguish months from days and listen to the wishes of your own soul. for to i, joshua, no longer hosea, but joshua, come as the envoy of the lord, and my message promises to the people whom i will learn to love as you do, new prosperity, and thus fulfils the promise of a new and better home, bestowed by the most high." miriam's eyes sparkled brightly and, overwhelmed with grateful joy, she exclaimed: "thou hast come to lead us into the land which jehovah promised to his people? oh lord, how measureless is thy goodness! he, he comes as thy messenger." "he comes, he is here!" joshua enthusiastically replied, and she did not resist when he clasped her to his breast and, thrilling with joy, she returned his kiss. chapter xvi. fear of her own weakness soon made miriam release herself from her lover's embrace, but she listened with eager happiness, seeking some new sign from the most high in joshua's brief account of everything he had felt and experienced since her summons. he first described the terrible conflict he endured, then how he regained entire faith and, obedient to the god of his people and his father's summons, went to the palace expecting imprisonment or death, to obtain release from his oath. he told her how graciously the sorrowing royal pair had received him, and how he had at last taken upon himself the office of urging the leaders of his nation to guide them into the wilderness for a short time only, and then take them home to egypt, where a new and beautiful region on the western bank of the river should be allotted to them. there no foreign overseer should henceforward oppress the workmen, but the affairs of the hebrews should be directed by their own elders, and a man chosen by themselves appointed their head. lastly he said that he, joshua, would be placed in command of the hebrew forces and, as regent, mediate and settle disputes between them and the egyptians whenever it seemed necessary. united to her, a happy husband, he would care in the new land for even the lowliest of his race. on the ride hither he had felt as men do after a bloody battle, when the blast of trumpets proclaim victory. he had indeed a right to regard himself as the envoy of the most high. here, however, he interrupted himself; for miriam, who at first had listened with open ears and sparkling eyes, now showed a more and more anxious and troubled mien. when he at last spoke of making the people happy as her husband, she withdrew her hand, gazed timidly at his manly features, glowing with joyful excitement, and then as if striving to maintain her calmness, fixed her eyes upon the ground. without suspecting what was passing in her mind, hosea drew nearer. he supposed that her tongue was paralyzed by maidenly shame at the first token of favor she had bestowed upon a man. but when at his last words, designating himself as the true messenger of god, she shook her head disapprovingly, he burst forth again, almost incapable of self-control in his sore disappointment: "so you believe that the lord has protected me by a miracle from the wrath of the mightiest sovereign, and permitted me to obtain from his powerful hand favors for my people, such as the stronger never grant to the weaker, simply to trifle with the joyous confidence of a man whom he himself summoned to serve him." miriam, struggling to force back her tears, answered in a hollow tone: "the stronger to the weaker! if that is your opinion, you compel me to ask, in the words of your own father: 'who is the more powerful, the lord our god or the weakling on the throne, whose first-born son withered like grass at a sign from the most high. oh, hosea! hosea!'" "joshua!" he interrupted fiercely. "do you grudge me even the name your god bestowed? i relied upon his help when i entered the palace of the mighty king. i sought under god's guidance rescue and salvation for the people, and i found them. but you, you . . . ." "your father and moses, nay, all the believing heads of the tribes, see no salvation for us among the egyptians," she answered, panting for breath. "what they promise the hebrews will be their ruin. the grass sowed by us withers where their feet touch it! and you, whose honest heart they deceive, are the whistler whom the bird-catcher uses to decoy his feathered victims into the snare. they put the hammer into your hand to rivet more firmly than before the chains which, with god's aid, we have sundered. before my mind's eye i perceive . . . ." "too much!" replied the warrior, grinding his teeth with rage. "hate dims your clear intellect. if the bird-catcher really--what was your comparison--if the bird-catcher really made me his whistler, deceived and misled me, he might learn from you, ay, from you! encouraged by you, i relied upon your love and faith. from you i hoped all things--and where is this love? as you spared me nothing that could cause me pain, i will, pitiless to myself, confess the whole truth to you. it was not alone because the god of my fathers called me, but because his summons reached me through you and my father that i came. you yearn for a land in the far uncertain distance, which the lord has promised you; but i opened to the people the door of a new and sure home. not for their sakes--what hitherto have they been to me?--but first of all to live there in happiness with you whom i loved, and my old father. yet you, whose cold heart knows naught of love, with my kiss still on your lips, disdain what i offer, from hatred of the hand to which i owe it. your life, your conflicts have made you masculine. what other women would trample the highest blessings under foot?" miriam could bear no more and, sobbing aloud, covered her convulsed face with her hands. at the grey light of dawn the sleepers in the camp began to stir, and men and maid servants came out of the dwellings of amminadab and naashon. all whom the morning had roused were moving toward the wells and watering places, but she did not see them. how her heart had expanded and rejoiced when her lover exclaimed that he had come to lead them to the land which the lord had promised to his people. gladly had she rested on his breast to enjoy one brief moment of the greatest bliss; but how quickly had bitter disappointment expelled joy! while the morning breeze had stirred the crown of the sycamore and joshua had told her what pharaoh would grant to the hebrews, the rustling among the branches had seemed to her like the voice of god's wrath and she fancied she again heard the angry words of hoary-headed nun. the latter's reproaches had dismayed uri like the flash of lightning, the roll of thunder, yet how did joshua's proposition differ from uri's? the people--she had heard it also from the lips of moses--were lost if, faithless to their god, they yielded to the temptations of pharaoh. to wed a man who came to destroy all for which she, her brothers, and his own father lived and labored, was base treachery. yet she loved joshua and, instead of harshly repulsing him, she would have again nestled ah, how gladly, to the heart which she knew loved her so ardently. but the leaves in the top of the tree continued to rustle and it seemed as if they reminded her of aaron's warning, so she forced herself to remain firm. the whispering above came from god, who had chosen her for his prophetess, and when joshua, in passionate excitement, owned that the longing for her was his principal motive for toiling for the people, who were as unknown to him as they were dear to her, her heart suddenly seemed to stop beating and, in her mortal agony, she could not help sobbing aloud. unheeding joshua, or the stir in the camp, she again flung herself down with uplifted arms under the sycamore, gazing upward with dilated, tearful eyes, as if expecting a new revelation. but the morning breeze continued to rustle in the summit of the tree, and suddenly everything seemed as bright as sunshine, not only within but around her, as always happened when she, the prophetess, was to behold a vision. and in this light she saw a figure whose face startled her, not joshua, but another to whom her heart did not incline. yet there he stood before the eyes of her soul in all his stately height, surrounded by radiance, and with a solemn gesture he laid his hand on the stones he had piled up. with quickened breath, she gazed upward to the face, yet she would gladly have closed her eyes and lost her hearing, that she might neither see it nor catch the voices from the tree. but suddenly the figure vanished, the voices died away, and she appeared to behold in a bright, fiery glow, the first man her virgin lips had kissed, as with uplifted sword, leading the shepherds of her people, he dashed toward an invisible foe. swiftly as the going and coming of a flash of lightning, the vision appeared and vanished, yet ere it had wholly disappeared she knew its meaning. the man whom she called "joshua" and who seemed fitted in every respect to be the shield and leader of his people, must not be turned aside by love from the lofty duty to which the most high had summoned him. none of the people must learn the message he brought, lest it should tempt them to turn aside from the dangerous path they had entered. her course was as plain as the vision which had just vanished. and, as if the most high desired to show her that she had rightly understood its meaning, hur's voice was heard near the sycamore--ere she had risen to prepare her lover for the sorrow to which she must condemn herself and him--commanding the multitude flocking from all directions to prepare for the departure. the way to save him from himself lay before her; but joshua had not yet ventured to disturb her devotions. he had been wounded and angered to the inmost depths of his soul by her denial. but as he gazed down at her and saw her tall figure shaken by a sudden chill, and her eyes and hands raised heavenward as though, spellbound, he had felt that something grand and sacred dwelt within her breast which it would be sacrilege to disturb; nay, he had been unable to resist the feeling that it would be presumptuous to seek to wed a woman united to the lord by so close a tie. it must be bliss indeed to call this exalted creature his own, yet it would be hard to see her place another, even though it were the almighty himself, so far above her lover and husband. men and cattle had already passed close by the sycamore and just as he was in the act of calling miriam and pointing to the approaching throng, she rose, turned toward him, and forced from her troubled breast the words: "i have communed with the lord, joshua, and now know his will. do you remember the words by which god called you?" he bent his head in assent; but she went on: "well then, you must also know what the most high confided to your father, to moses, and to me. he desires to lead us out of the land of egypt, to a distant country where neither pharaoh nor his viceroy shall rule over us, and he alone shall be our king. that is his will, and if he requires you to serve him, you must follow us and, in case of war, command the men of our people." joshua struck his broad breast, exclaiming in violent agitation: "an oath binds me to return to tanis to inform pharaoh how the leaders of the people received the message with which i was sent forth. though my heart should break, i cannot perjure myself." "and mine shall break," gasped miriam, "ere i will be disloyal to the lord our god. we have both chosen, so let what once united us be sundered before these stones." he rushed frantically toward her to seize her hand; but with an imperious gesture she waved him back, turned away, and went toward the multitude which, with sheep and cattle, were pressing around the wells. old and young respectfully made way for her as, with haughty bearing, she approached hur, who was giving orders to the shepherds; but he came forward to meet her and, after hearing the promise she whispered, he laid his hand upon her head and said with solemn earnestness: "then may the lord bless our alliance." hand in hand with the grey-haired man to whom she had given herself, miriam approached joshua. nothing betrayed the deep emotion of her soul, save the rapid rise and fall of her bosom, for though her cheeks were pale, her eyes were tearless and her bearing was as erect as ever. she left to hur to explain to the lover whom she had forever resigned what she had granted him, and when joshua heard it, he started back as though a gulf yawned at his feet. his lips were bloodless as he stared at the unequally matched pair. a jeering laugh seemed the only fitting answer to such a surprise, but miriam's grave face helped him to repress it and conceal the tumult of his soul by trivial words. but he felt that he could not long succeed in maintaining a successful display of indifference, so he took leave of miriam. he must greet his father, he said hastily, and induce him to summon the elders. ere he finished several shepherds hurried up, disputing wrathfully and appealed to hur to decide what place in the procession belonged to each tribe. he followed them, and as soon as miriam found herself alone with joshua, she said softly, yet earnestly, with beseeching eyes: "a hasty deed was needful to sever the tie that bound us, but a loftier hope unites us. as i sacrificed what was dearest to my heart to remain faithful to my god and people, do you, too, renounce everything to which your soul clings. obey the most high, who called you joshua! this hour transformed the sweetest joy to bitter grief; may it be the salvation of our people! remain a son of the race which gave you your father and mother! be what the lord called you to become, a leader of your race! if you insist on fulfilling your oath to pharaoh, and tell the elders the promises with which you came, you will win them over, i know. few will resist you, but of those few the first will surely be your own father. i can hear him raise his voice loudly and angrily against his own dear son; but if you close your ears even to his warning, the people will follow your summons instead of god's, and you will rule the hebrews as a mighty man. but when the time comes that the egyptian casts his promises to the winds, when you see your people in still worse bondage than before and behold them turn from the god of their fathers to again worship animal-headed idols, your father's curse will overtake you, the wrath of the most high will strike the blinded man, and despair will be the lot of him who led to ruin the weak masses for whose shield the most high chose him. so i, a feeble woman, yet the servant of the most high and the maiden who was dearer to you than life, cry in tones of warning: fear your father's curse and the punishment of the lord! beware of tempting the people." here she was interrupted by a female slave, who summoned her to her house--and she added in low, hurried accents: "only this one thing more. if you do not desire to be weaker than the woman whose opposition roused your wrath, sacrifice your own wishes for the welfare of yonder thousands, who are of the same blood! with your hand on these stones you must swear . . . ." but here her voice failed. her hands groped vainly for some support, and with a loud cry she sank on her knees beside hur's token. joshua's strong arms saved her from falling prostrate, and several women who hurried up at his shout soon recalled the fainting maiden to life. her eyes wandered restlessly from one to another, and not until her glance rested on joshua's anxious face did she become conscious where she was and what she had done. then she hurriedly drank the water a shepherd's wife handed to her, wiped the tears from her eyes, sighed painfully, and with a faint smile whispered to joshua: "i am but a weak woman after all." then she walked toward the house, but after the first few steps turned, beckoned to the warrior, and said softly: "you see how they are forming into ranks. they will soon begin to move. is your resolution still unshaken? there is still time to call the elders." he shook his head, and as he met her tearful, grateful glance, answered gently: "i shall remember these stones and this hour, wife of hur. greet my father for me and tell him that i love him. repeat to him also the name by which his son, according to the command of the most high, will henceforth be called, that its promise of jehovah's aid may give him confidence when he hears whither i am going to keep the oath i have sworn." with these words he waved his hand to miriam and turned toward the camp, where his horse had been fed and watered; but she called after him: "only one last word: moses left a message for you in the hollow trunk of the tree." joshua turned back to the sycamore and read what the man of god had written for him. "be strong and steadfast" were the brief contents, and raising his head he joyfully exclaimed: "those words are balm to my soul. we meet here for the last time, wife of hur, and, if i go to my death, be sure that i shall know how to die strong and steadfast; but show my old father what kindness you can." he swung himself upon his horse and while trotting toward tanis, faithful to his oath, his soul was free from fear, though he did not conceal from himself that he was going to meet great perils. his fairest hopes were destroyed, yet deep grief struggled with glad exaltation. a new and lofty emotion, which pervaded his whole being, had waked within him and was but slightly dimmed, though he had experienced a sorrow bitter enough to darken the light of any other man's existence. naught could surpass the noble objects to which he intended to devote his blood and life--his god and his people. he perceived with amazement this new feeling which had power to thrust far into the background every other emotion of his breast--even love. true, his head often drooped sorrowfully when he thought of his old father; but he had done right in repressing the eager yearning to clasp him to his heart. the old man would scarcely have understood his motives, and it was better for both to part without seeing each other rather than in open strife. often it seemed as though his experiences had been but a dream, and while he felt bewildered by the excitements of the last few hours, his strong frame was little wearied by the fatigues he had undergone. at a well-known hostelry on the road, where he met many soldiers and among them several military commanders with whom he was well acquainted, he at last allowed his horse and himself a little rest and food; and as he rode on refreshed active life asserted its claims; for as far as the gate of the city of rameses he passed bands of soldiers, and learned that they were ordered to join the cohorts he had himself brought from libya. at last he rode into the capital and as he passed the temple of amon he heard loud lamentations, though he had learned on the way that the plague had ceased. what many a sign told him was confirmed at last by some passing guards--the first prophet and high-priest of amon, the greyhaired rui, had died in the ninety-eighth year of his life. bai, the second prophet, who had so warmly protested his friendship and gratitude to hosea, had now become rui's successor and was high-priest and judge, keeper of the seals and treasurer, in short, the most powerful man in the realm. chapter xvii. "help of jehovah!" murmured a state-prisoner, laden with heavy chains, five days later, smiling bitterly as, with forty companions in misfortune, he was led through the gate of victory in tanis toward the east. the mines in the sinai peninsula, where more convict labor was needed, were the goal of these unfortunate men. the prisoner's smile lingered a short time, then drawing up his muscular frame, his bearded lips murmured: "strong and steadfast!" and as if he desired to transmit the support he had himself found he whispered to the youth marching at his side: "courage, ephraim, courage! don't gaze down at the dust, but upward, whatever may come." "silence in the ranks!" shouted one of the armed libyan guards, who accompanied the convicts, to the older prisoner, raising his whip with a significant gesture. the man thus threatened was joshua, and his companion in suffering ephraim, who had been sentenced to share his fate. what this was every child in egypt knew, for "may i be sent to the mines!" was one of the most terrible oaths of the common people, and no prisoner's lot was half so hard as that of the convicted state-criminals. a series of the most terrible humiliations and tortures awaited them. the vigor of the robust was broken by unmitigated toil; the exhausted were forced to execute tasks so far beyond their strength that they soon found the eternal rest for which their tortured souls longed. to be sent to the mines meant to be doomed to a slow, torturing death; yet life is so dear to men that it was considered a milder punishment to be dragged to forced labor in the mines than to be delivered up to the executioner. joshua's encouraging words had little effect upon ephraim; but when, a few minutes later, a chariot shaded by an umbrella, passed the prisoners, a chariot in which a slender woman of aristocratic bearing stood beside a matron behind the driver, he turned with a hasty movement and gazed after the equipage with sparkling eyes till it vanished in the dust of the road. the younger woman had been closely veiled, but ephraim thought he recognized her for whose sake he had gone to his ruin, and whose lightest sign he would still have obeyed. and he was right; the lady in the chariot was kasana, the daughter of hornecht, captain of the archers, and the matron was her nurse. at a little temple by the road-side, where, in the midst of a grove of nile acacias, a well was maintained for travellers, she bade the matron wait for her and, springing lightly from the chariot which had left the prisoners some distance behind, she began to pace up and down with drooping head in the shadow of the trees, until the whirling clouds of dust announced the approach of the convicts. taking from her robe the gold rings she had ready for this purpose, she went to the man who was riding at its head on an ass and who led the mournful procession. while she was talking with him and pointing to joshua, the guard cast a sly glance at the rings which had been slipped into his hand, and seeing a welcome yellow glitter when his modesty had expected only silver, his features instantly assumed an expression of obliging good-will. true, his face darkened at kasana's request, but another promise from the young widow brightened it again, and he now turned eagerly to his subordinates, exclaiming: "to the well with the moles, men! let them drink. they must be fresh and healthy under the ground!" then riding up to the prisoners, he shouted to joshua: "you once commanded many soldiers, and look more stiff-necked now than beseems you and me. watch the others, guards, i have a word or two to say to this man alone." he clapped his hands as if he were driving hens out of a garden, and while the prisoners took pails and with the guards, enjoyed the refreshing drink, their leader drew joshua and ephraim away from the road --they could not be separated on account of the chain which bound their ancles together. the little temple soon hid them from the eyes of the others, and the warder sat down on a step some distance off, first showing the two hebrews, with a gesture whose meaning was easily understood, the heavy spear he carried in his hand and the hounds which lay at his feet. he kept his eyes open, too, during the conversation that followed. they could say whatever they chose; he knew the duties of his office and though, for the sake of good money he could wink at a farewell, for twenty years, though there had been many attempts to escape, not one of his moles--a name he was fond of giving to the future miners--had succeeded in eluding his watchfulness. yonder fair lady doubtless loved the stately man who, he had been told, was formerly a chief in the army. but he had already numbered among his "moles," personages even more distinguished, and if the veiled woman managed to slip files or gold into the prisoner's hands, he would not object, for that very evening the persons of both would be thoroughly searched, even the youth's black locks, which would not have remained unshorn, had not everything been in confusion prior to the departure of the convicts, which took place just before the march of pharaoh's army. the watcher could not hear the whispered words exchanged between the degraded chief and the lady, but her humble manner and bearing led him to suppose that it was she who had brought the proud warrior to his ruin. ah, these women! and the fettered youth! the looks he fixed upon the slender figure were ardent enough to scorch her veil. but patience! mighty father amon! his moles were going to a school where people learned modesty! now the lady had removed her veil. she was a beautiful woman! it must be hard to part from such a sweetheart. and now she was weeping. the rude warder's heart grew as soft as his office permitted; but he would fain have raised his scourge against the older prisoner; for was it not a shame to have such a sweetheart and stand there like a stone? at first the wretch did not even hold out his hand to the woman who evidently loved him, while he, the watcher, would gladly have witnessed both a kiss and an embrace. or was this beauty the prisoner's wife who had betrayed him? no, no! how kindly he was now gazing at her. that was the manner of a father speaking to his child; but his mole was probably too young to have such a daughter. a mystery! but he felt no anxiety concerning its solution; during the march he had the power to make the most reserved convict an open book. yet not only the rude gaoler, but anyone would have marvelled what had brought this beautiful, aristocratic woman, in the grey light of dawn, out on the highway to meet the hapless man loaded with chains. in sooth, nothing would have induced kasana to take this step save the torturing dread of being scorned and execrated as a base traitress by the man whom she loved. a terrible destiny awaited him, and her vivid imagination had shown her joshua in the mines, languishing, disheartened, drooping, dying, always with a curse upon her on his lips. on the evening of, the day ephraim bad been brought to the house, shivering with the chill caused by burning fever, and half stifled with the dust of the road, her father lead told her that in the youthful hebrew they possessed a hostage to compel hosea to return to tanis and submit to the wishes of the prophet bai, with whom she knew her father was leagued in a secret conspiracy. he also confided to her that not only great distinction and high offices, but a marriage with herself had been arrranged to bind hosea to the egyptians and to a cause from which the chief of the archers expected the greatest blessings for himself, his house, and his whole country. these tidings had filled her heart with joyous hope of a long desired happiness, and she confessed it to the prisoner with drooping head amid floods of tears, by the little wayside temple; for he was now forever lost to her, and though he did not return the love she had lavished on him from his childhood, he must not hate and condemn her without having heard her story. joshua listened willingly and assured her that nothing would lighten his heart more than to have her clear herself from the charge of having consigned him and the youth at his side to their most terrible fate. kasana sobbed aloud and was forced to struggle hard for composure ere she succeeded in telling her tale with some degree of calmness. shortly after hosea's departure the chief-priest died and, on the same day bai, the second prophet, became his successor. many changes now took place, and the most powerful man in the kingdom filled pharaoh with hatred of the hebrews and their leader, mesu, whom he and the queen had hitherto protected and feared. he had even persuaded the monarch to pursue the fugitives, and an army had been instantly summoned to compel their return. kasana had feared that hosea could not be induced to fight against the men of his own blood, and that he must feel incensed at being sent to make treaties which the egyptians began to violate even before they knew whether their offers had been accepted. when he returned--as he knew only too well--pharaoh had had him watched like a prisoner and would not suffer him to leave his presence until he had sworn to again lead his troops and be a faithful servant to the king. bai, the new chief priest, however, had not forgotten that hosea had saved his life and showed himself well disposed and grateful to him; she knew also that he hoped to involve him in a secret enterprise, with which her father, too, was associated. it was bai who had prevailed upon pharaoh, if hosea would renew his oath of fealty, to absolve him from fighting against his own race, put him in command of the foreign mercenaries and raise him to the rank of a "friend of the king." all these events, of course, were familiar to him; for the new chief priest had himself set before him the tempting dishes which, with such strong, manly defiance, he had thrust aside. her father had also sided with him, and for the first time ceased to reproach him with his origin. but, on the third day after hosea's return, hornecht had gone to talk with him and since then everything had changed for the worse. he must be best aware what had caused the man of whom she, his daughter, must think no evil, to be changed from a friend to a mortal foe. she had looked enquiringly at him as she spoke, and he did not refuse to answer--hornecht had told him that he would be a welcome son-in-law. "and you?" asked kasana, gazing anxiously into his face. "i," replied the prisoner, "was forced to say that though you had been dear and precious to me from your childhood, many causes forbade me to unite a woman's fate to mine." kasana's eyes flashed, and she exclaimed: "because you love another, a woman of your own people, the one who sent ephraim to you!" but joshua shook his head and answered pleasantly: "you are wrong, kasana! she of whom you speak is the wife of another." "then," cried the young widow with fresh animation, gazing at him with loving entreaty, "why were you compelled to rebuff my father so harshly?" "that was far from my intention, dear child," he replied warmly, laying his hand on her head. "i thought of you with all the tenderness of which my nature is capable. if i could not fulfil his wish, it was because grave necessity forbids me to yearn for the peaceful happiness by my own hearth-stone for which others strive. had they given me my liberty, my life would have been one of restlessness and conflict." "yet how many bear sword and shield," replied kasana, "and still, on their return, rejoice in the love of their wives and the dear ones sheltered beneath their roof." "true, true," he answered gravely; "but special duties, unknown to the egyptians, summon me. i am a son of my people." "and you intend to serve them?" asked kasana. "oh, i understand you. yet.... why then did you return to tanis? why did you put yourself into pharaoh's power?" "because a sacred oath compelled me, poor child," he answered kindly. "an oath," she cried, "which places death and imprisonment between you and those whom you love and still desire to serve. oh, would that you had never returned to this abode of injustice, treachery, and ingratitude! to how many hearts this vow will bring grief and tears! but what do you men care for the suffering you inflict on others? you have spoiled all the pleasure of life for my hapless self, and among your own people dwells a noble father whose only son you are. how often i have seen the dear old man, the stately figure with sparkling eyes and snow-white hair. so would you look when you, too, had reached a ripe old age, as i said to myself, when i met him at the harbor, or in the forecourt of the palace, directing the shepherds who were driving the cattle and fleecy sheep to the tax-receiver's table. and now his son's obstinacy must embitter every day of his old age." "now," replied joshua, "he has a son who is going, laden with chains, to endure a life of misery, but who can hold his head higher than those who betrayed him. they, and pharaoh at their head, have forgotten that he has shed his heart's blood for them on many a battlefield, and kept faith with the king at every peril. menephtah, his vice-roy and chief, whose life i saved, and many who formerly called me friend, have abandoned and hurled me and this guiltless boy into wretchedness, but those who have done this, woman, who have committed this crime, may they all. . . ." "do not curse them!" interrupted kasana with glowing cheeks. but joshua, unheeding her entreaty, exclaimed "should i be a man, if i forgot vengeance?" the young widow clung anxiously to his arm, gasping in beseeching accents: "how could you forgive him? only you must not curse him; for my father became your foe through love for me. you know his hot blood, which so easily carries him to extremes, despite his years. he concealed from me what he regarded as an insult; for he saw many woo me, and i am his greatest treasure. pharaoh can pardon rebels more easily than my father can forgive the man who disdained his jewel. he behaved like one possessed when he returned. every word he uttered was an invective. he could not endure to stay at home and raged just as furiously elsewhere. but no doubt he would have calmed himself at last, as he so often did before, had not some one who desired to pour oil on the flames met him in the fore-court of the palace. i learned all this from bai's wife; for she, too, repents what she did to injure you; her husband used every effort to save you. she, who is as brave as any man, was ready to aid him and open the door of your prison; for she has not forgotten that you saved her husband's life in libya. ephraim's chains were to fall with yours, and everything was ready to aid your flight." "i know it," hosea interrupted gloomily, "and i will thank the god of my fathers if those were wrong from whom i heard that you are to blame, kasana, for having our dungeon door locked more firmly." "should i be here, if that were so!" cried the beautiful, grieving woman with impassioned eagerness. true, resentment did stir within me as it does in every woman whose lover scorns her; but the misfortune that befell you speedily transformed resentment into compassion, and fanned the old flames anew. so surely as i hope for a mild judgment before the tribunal of the dead, i am innocent and have not ceased to hope for your liberation. not until yesterday evening, when all was too late, did i learn that bai's proposal had been futile. the chief priest can do much, but he will not oppose the man who made himself my father's ally." "you mean prince siptah, pharaoh's nephew!" cried joshua in excited tones. "they intimated to me the scheme they were weaving in his interest; they wished to put me in the place of the syrian aarsu, the commander of the mercenaries, if i would consent to let them have their way with my people and desert those of my own blood. but i would rather die twenty deaths than sully myself with such treachery. aarsu is better suited to carry out their dark plans, but he will finally betray them all. so far as i am concerned, the prince has good reason to hate me." kasana laid her hand upon his lips, pointed anxiously to ephraim and the guide, and said gently: "spare my father! the prince--what roused his enmity......" "the profligate seeks to lure you into his snare and has learned that you favor me," the warrior broke in. she bent her head with a gesture of assent, and added blushing: "that is why aarsu, whom he has won over to his cause, watches you so strictly." "and the syrian will keep his eyes sufficiently wide open," cried joshua. "now let us talk no more of this. i believe you and thank you warmly for following us hapless mortals. how fondly i used to think, while serving in the field, of the pretty child, whom i saw blooming into maidenhood." "and you will think of her still with neither wrath nor rancor?" "gladly, most gladly." the young widow, with passionate emotion, seized the prisoner's hand to raise it to her lips, but he withdrew it; and, gazing at him with tears in her eyes, she said mournfully: "you deny me the favor a benefactor does not refuse even to a beggar." then, suddenly drawing herself up to her full height, she exclaimed so loudly that the warder started and glanced at the sun: "but i tell you the time will come when you will sue for the favor of kissing this hand in gratitude. for when the messenger arrives bringing to you and to this youth the liberty for which you have longed, it will be kasana to whom you owe it." rapt by the fervor of the wish that animated her, her beautiful face glowed with a crimson flush. joshua seized her right hand, exclaiming: "ah, if you could attain what your loyal soul desires! how could i dissuade you from mitigating the great misfortune which overtook this youth in your house? yet, as an honest man, i must tell you that i shall never return to the service of the egyptians; for, come what may, i shall in future cleave, body and soul, to those you persecute and despise, and to whom belonged the mother who bore me." kasana's graceful head drooped; but directly after she raised it again, saying: "no other man is so noble, so truthful, that i have known from my childhood. if i can find no one among my own nation whom i can honor, i will remember you, whose every thought is true and lofty, whose nature is faultless. put if poor kasana succeeds in liberating you, do not scorn her, if you find her worse than when you left her, for however she may humiliate herself, whatever shame may come upon her . . . ." "what do you intend?" hosea anxiously interrupted; but she had no time to answer; for the captain of the guard had risen and, clapping his hands, shouted: "forward, you moles!" and "step briskly." the warrior's stout heart was overwhelmed with tender sadness and, obeying a hasty impulse, he kissed the beautiful unhappy woman on the brow and hair, whispering: "leave me in my misery, if our freedom will cost your humiliation. we shall probably never meet again; for, whatever may happen, my life will henceforth be nothing but battle and sacrifice. darkness will shroud us in deeper and deeper gloom, but however black the night may be, one star will still shine for this boy and for me--the remembrance of you, my faithful, beloved child." he pointed to ephraim as he spoke and the youth, as if out of his senses, pressed his lips on the hand and arm of the sobbing woman. "forward!" shouted the leader again, and with a grateful smile helped the generous lady into the chariot, marvelling at the happy, radiant gaze with which her tearful eyes followed the convicts. the horses started, fresh shouts arose, blows from the whips fell on bare shoulders, now and then a cry of pain rang on the morning air, and the train of prisoners again moved eastward. the chain on the ancles of the companions in suffering stirred the dust, which shrouded the little band like the grief, hate, and fear darkening the soul of each. chapter xviii. a long hour's walk beyond the little temple where the prisoners had rested the road, leading to succoth and the western arm of the red sea, branched off from the one that ran in a southeasterly direction past the fortifications on the isthmus to the mines. shortly after the departure of the prisoners, the army which had been gathered to pursue the hebrews left the city of rameses, and as the convicts had rested some time at the well, the troops almost overtook them. they had not proceeded far when several runners came hurrying up to clear the road for the advancing army. they ordered the prisoners to move aside and defer their march until the swifter baggage train, bearing pharaoh's tents and travelling equipments, whose chariot wheels could already be heard, had passed them. the prisoners' guards were glad to stop, they were in no hurry. the day was hot, and if they reached their destination later, it would be the fault of the army. the interruption was welcome to joshua, too; for his young companion had been gazing into vacancy as if bewildered, and either made no answer to his questions or gave such incoherent ones that the older man grew anxious; he knew how many of those sentenced to forced labor went mad or fell into melancholy. now a portion of the army would pass them, and the spectacle was new to ephraim and promised to put an end to his dull brooding. a sand-hill overgrown with tamarisk bushes rose beside the road, and thither the leader guided the party of convicts. he was a stern man, but not a cruel one, so he permitted his "moles" to lie down on the sand, for the troops would doubtless be a long time in passing. as soon as the convicts had thrown themselves on the ground the rattle of wheels, the neighing of fiery steeds, shouts of command, and sometimes the disagreeable braying of an ass were heard. when the first chariots appeared ephraim asked if pharaoh was coming; but joshua, smiling, informed him that when the king accompanied the troops to the field, the camp equipage followed directly behind the vanguard, for pharaoh and his dignitaries wished to find the tents pitched and the tables laid, when the day's march was over and the soldiers and officers expected a night's repose. joshua had not finished speaking when a number of empty carts and unladen asses appeared. they were to carry the contributions of bread and meal, animals and poultry, wine and beer, levied on every village the sovereign passed on the march, and which had been delivered to the tax-gatherers the day before. soon after a division of chariot warriors followed. every pair of horses drew a small, two-wheeled chariot, cased in bronze, and in each stood a warrior and the driver of the team. huge quivers were fastened to the front of the chariots, and the soldiers leaned on their lances or on gigantic bows. shirts covered with brazen scales, or padded coats of mail with gay overmantle, a helmet, and the front of the chariot protected the warrior from the missiles of the foe. this troop, which joshua said was the van, went by at a slow trot and was followed by a great number of carts and wagons, drawn by horses, mules, or oxen, as well as whole troops of heavily-laden asses. the uncle now pointed out to his nephew the long masts, poles, and heavy rolls of costly stuffs intended for the royal tent, and borne by numerous beasts of burden, as well as the asses and carts with the kitchen utensils and field forges. among the baggage heaped on the asses, which were followed by nimble drivers, rode the physicians, tailors, salvemakers, cooks, weavers of garlands, attendants, and slaves belonging to the camp. their departure had been so recent that they were still fresh and inclined to jest, and whoever caught sight of the convicts, flung them, in the egyptian fashion, a caustic quip which many sought to palliate by the gift of alms. others, who said nothing, also sent by the ass-drivers fruit and trifling gifts; for those who were free to-day might share the fate of these hapless men to-morrow. the captain permitted it, and when a passing slave, whom joshua had sold for thieving, shouted the name of hosea, pointing to him with a malicious gesture, the rough but kind-hearted officer offered his insulted prisoner a sip of wine from his own flask. ephraim, who had walked from succoth to tanis with a staff in his hand, and a small bundle containing bread, dried lamb, radishes, and dates, expressed his amazement at the countless people and things a single man needed for his comfort, and then relapsed into his former melancholy until his uncle roused him with farther explanations. as soon as the baggage train had passed, the commander of the band of prisoners wished to set off, but the "openers of the way," who preceded the archers, forbade him, because it was not seemly for convicts to mingle with soldiers. so they remained on their hillock and continued to watch the troops. the archers were followed by heavily-armed troops, bearing shields covered with strong hide so large that they extended from the feet to above the middle of the tallest men, and hosea now told the youth that in the evening they set them side by side, thus surrounding the royal tent like a fence. besides this weapon of defence they carried a lance, a short dagger-like sword, or a battle-sickle, and as these thousands were succeeded by a body of men armed with slings ephraim for the first time spoke without being questioned and said that the slings the shepherds had taught him to make were far better than those of the soldiers and, encouraged by his uncle, he described in language so eager that the prisoners lying by his side listened, how he had succeeded in slaying not only jackals, wolves, and panthers, but even vultures, with stones hurled from a sling. meanwhile he interrupted himself to ask the meaning of the standards and the names of the separate divisions. many thousands had already passed, when another troop of warriors in chariots appeared, and the chief warder of the prisoners exclaimed: "the good god! the lord of two worlds! may life, happiness, and health be his!" with these words he fell upon his knees in the attitude of worship, while the convicts prostrated themselves to kiss the earth and be ready to obey the captain's bidding and join at the right moment in the cry: "life, happiness, and health!" but they had a long time to wait ere the expected sovereign appeared; for, after the warriors in the chariots had passed, the body-guard followed, foot-soldiers of foreign birth with singular ornaments on their helmets and huge swords, and then numerous images of the gods, a large band of priests and wearers of plumes. they were followed by more bodyguards, and then pharaoh appeared with his attendants. at their head rode the chief priest bai in a gilded battle-chariot drawn by magnificent bay stallions. he who had formerly led troops in the field, had assumed the command of this pursuing expedition ordered by the gods and, though clad in priestly robes, he also wore the helmet and battle-axe of a general. at last, directly behind his equipage, came pharaoh himself; but he did not go to battle like his warlike predecessors in a warchariot, but preferred to be carried on a throne. a magnificent canopy protected him above, and large, thick, round ostrich feather fans, carried by his fan-bearers, sheltered him on both sides from the scorching rays of the sun. after menephtah had left the city and the gate of victory behind him, and the exulting acclamations of the multitude had ceased to amuse him, he had gone to sleep and the shading fans would have concealed his face and figure from the prisoners, had not their shouts been loud enough to rouse him and induce him to turn his head toward them. the gracious wave of his right hand showed that he had expected to see different people from convicts and, ere the shouts of the hapless men had died away, his eyes again closed. ephraim's silent brooding had now yielded to the deepest interest, and as the empty golden war-chariot of the king, before which pranced the most superb steeds he had ever seen, rolled by, he burst into loud exclamations of admiration. these noble animals, on whose intelligent heads large bunches of feathers nodded, and whose rich harness glittered with gold and gems, were indeed a splendid sight. the large gold quivers set with emeralds, fastened on the sides of the chariot, were filled with arrows. the feeble man to whose weak hand the guidance of a great nation was entrusted, the weakling who shrunk from every exertion, regained his lost energy whenever hunting was in prospect; he considered this campaign a chase on the grandest scale and as it seemed royal pastime to discharge his arrows at the human beings he had so lately feared, instead of at game, he had obeyed the chief priest's summons and joined the expedition. it had been undertaken by the mandate of the great god amon, so he had little to dread from mesu's terrible power. when he captured him he would make him atone for having caused pharaoh and his queen to tremble before him and shed so many tears on his account. while joshua was still telling the youth from which phoenician city the golden chariots came, he suddenly felt ephraim's right hand clutch his wrist, and heard him exclaim: "she! she! look yonder! it is she!" the youth had flushed crimson, and he was not mistaken; the beautiful kasana was passing amid pharaoh's train in the same chariot in which she had pursued the convicts, and with her came a considerable number of ladies who had joined what the commander of the foot-soldiers, a brave old warrior, who had served under the great rameses, termed "a pleasure party." on campaigns through the desert and into syria, libya, or ethiopia the sovereign was accompanied only by a chosen band of concubines in curtained chariots, guarded by eunuchs; but this time, though the queen had remained at home, the wife of the chief priest bai and other aristocratic ladies had set the example of joining the troops, and it was doubtless tempting enough to many to enjoy the excitements of war without peril. kasana had surprised her friend by her appearance an hour before; only yesterday the young widow could not be persuaded to accompany the troops. obeying an inspiration, without consulting her father, so unprepared that she lacked the necessary traveling equipments, she had joined the expedition, and it seemed as if a man whom she had hitherto avoided, though he was no less a personage than siptah, the king's nephew, had become a magnet to her. when she passed the prisoners, the prince was standing in the chariot beside the young beauty in her nurse's place, explaining in jesting tones the significance of the flowers in a bouquet, which kasana declared could not possibly have been intended for her, because an hour and a quarter before she had not thought of going with the army. but siptah protested that the hathors had revealed at sunrise the happiness in store for him, and that the choice of each single blossom proved his assertion. several young courtiers who were walking in front of their chariots, surrounded them and joined in the laughter and merry conversation, in which the vivacious wife of the chief priest shared, having left her large travelling-chariot to be carried in a litter. none of these things escaped joshua's notice and, as he saw kasana, who a short time before had thought of the prince with aversion, now saucily tap his hand with her fan, his brow darkened and he asked himself whether the young widow was not carelessly trifling with his misery. but the prisoners' chief warder had now noticed the locks on siptah's temples, which marked him as a prince of the royal household and his loud "hail! hall!" in which the other guards and the captives joined, was heard by kasana and her companions. they looked toward the tamariskbushes, whence the cry proceeded, and joshua saw the young widow turn pale and then point with a hasty gesture to the convicts. she must undoubtedly have given siptah some command, for the latter at first shrugged his shoulders disapprovingly then, after a somewhat lengthy discussion, half grave, half jesting, he sprang from the chariot and beckoned to the chief gaoler. "have these men," he called from the road so loudly that kasana could not fail to hear, "seen the face of the good god, the lord of both worlds?" and when he received a reluctant answer, he went on arrogantly: "no matter! at least they beheld mine and that of the fairest of women, and if they hope for favor on that account they are right. you know who i am. let the chains that bind them together be removed." then, beckoning to the man, he whispered: "but keep your eyes open all the wider; i have no liking for the fellow beside the bush, the ex-chief hosea. after returning home, report to me and bring news of this man. the quieter he has become, the deeper my hand will sink in my purse. do you understand?" the warder bowed, thinking: "i'll take care, my prince, and also see that no one attempts to take the life of any of my moles. the greater the rank of these gentlemen, the more bloody and strange are their requests! how many have come to me with similar ones. he releases the poor wretches' feet, and wants me to burden my soul with a shameful murder. siptah has tried the wrong man! here, heter, bring the bag of tools and open the moles' chains." while the files were grating on the sand-hill by the road and the prisoners were being released from the fetters on their ancles,--though for the sake of security each man's arms were bound together,--pharaoh's host marched by. kasana had commanded prince siptah to release from their iron burden the unfortunates who were being dragged to a life of misery, openly confessing that she could not bear to see a chief who had so often been a guest of her house so cruelly humiliated. bai's wife had supported her wish, and the prince was obliged to yield. joshua knew to whom he and ephraim owed this favor, and received it with grateful joy. walking had been made easier for him, but his mind was more and more sorely oppressed with anxious cares. the army passing yonder would have been enough to destroy down to the last man a force ten times greater than the number of his people. his people, and with them his father and miriam,--who had caused him such keen suffering, yet to whom he was indebted for having found the way which, even in prison, he had recognized as the only right one--seemed to him marked out for a bloody doom; for, however powerful might be the god whose greatness the prophetess had praised in such glowing words, and to whom he himself had learned to look up with devout admiration,--untrained and unarmed bands of shepherds must surely and hopelessly succumb to the assault of this army. this certainty, strengthened by each advancing division, pierced his very soul. never before had he felt such burning anguish, which was terribly sharpened when he beheld the familiar faces of his own troops, which he had so lately commanded, pass before him under the leadership of another. this time they were taking the field to hew down men of his own blood. this was pain indeed, and ephraim's conduct gave him cause for fresh anxiety; since kasana's appearance and interference in behalf of him and his companions in suffering, the youth had again lapsed into silence and gazed with wandering eyes at the army or into vacancy. now he, too, was freed from the chain, and joshua asked in a whisper if he did not long to return to his people to help them resist so powerful a force, but ephraim merely answered: "when confronted with those hosts, they can do nothing but yield. what did we lack before the exodus? you were a hebrew, and yet became a mighty chief among the egyptians ere you obeyed miriam's summons. in your place, i would have pursued a different course." "what would you have done?" asked joshua sternly. "what?" replied the youth, the fire of his young soul blazing. "what? only this, i would have remained where there is honor and fame and everything beautiful. you might have been the greatest of the great, the happiest of the happy--this i have learned, but you made a different choice." "because duty commanded it," joshua answered gravely, "because i will no longer serve any one save the people among whom i was born." "the people?" exclaimed ephraim, contemptuously. "i know them, and you met them at succoth. the poor are miserable wretches who cringe under the lash; the rich value their cattle above all else and, if they are the heads of the tribes, quarrel with one another. no one knows aught of what pleases the eye and the heart. they call me one of the richest of the race and yet i shudder when i think of the house i inherited, one of the best and largest. one who has seen more beautiful ones ceases to long for such an abode." the vein on joshua's brow swelled, and he wrathfully rebuked the youth for denying his own blood, and being a traitor to his people. the guard commanded silence, for joshua had raised his reproving voice louder, and this order seemed welcome to the defiant youth. when, during their march, his uncle looked sternly into his face or asked whether he had thought of his words, he turned angrily away, and remained mute and sullen until the first star had risen, the night camp had been made under the open sky, and the scanty prison rations had been served. joshua dug with his hands a resting place in the sand, and with care and skill helped the youth to prepare a similar one. ephraim silently accepted this help; but as they lay side by side, and the uncle began to speak to his nephew of the god of his people on whose aid they must rely, if they were not to fall victims to despair in the mines, the youth interrupted him, exclaiming in low tones, but with fierce resolution: "they will not take me to the mines alive! i would rather die, while making my escape, than pine away in such wretchedness." joshua whispered words of warning, and again reminded him of his duties to his people. but ephraim begged to be let alone; yet soon after he touched his uncle and asked softly: "what are they planning with prince siptah?" "i don't know; nothing good, that is certain." "and where is aarsu, the syrian, your foe, who commands the asiatic mercenaries, and who was to watch us with such fierce zeal? i did not see him with the others." "he remained in tanis with his troops." "to guard the palace?" "undoubtedly." "then he commands many soldiers, and pharaoh has confidence in him?" "the utmost, though he ill deserves it." "and he is a syrian, and therefore of our blood." "and more closely allied to us than to the egyptians, at least so far as language and appearance are concerned." "i should have taken him for a man of our race, yet he is, as you were, one of the leaders in the army." "other syrians and libyans command large troops of mercenaries, and the herald ben mazana, one of the highest dignitaries of the court--the egyptians call him rameses in the sanctuary of ra--has a hebrew father." "and neither he nor the others are scorned on account of their birth?" "this is not quite so. but why do you ask these questions?" "i could not sleep." "and so such thoughts came to you. but you have some definite idea in your mind and, if my inference is correct, it would cause me pain. you wished to enter pharaoh's service!" both were silent a long time, then ephraim spoke again and, though he addressed joshua, it seemed as if he were talking to himself: "they will destroy our people; bondage and shame await those who survive. my house is now left to ruin, not a head of my splendid herds of cattle remains, and the gold and silver i inherited, of which there was said to be a goodly store, they are carrying with them, for your father has charge of my wealth, and it will soon fall as booty into the hands of the egyptians. shall i, if i obtain my liberty, return to my people and make bricks? shall i bow my back and suffer blows and abuse?" joshua eagerly whispered: "you must appeal to the god of your fathers, that he may protect and defend his people. yet, if the most high has willed the destruction of our race, be a man and learn to hate with all the might of your young soul those who trample your people under their feet. fly to the syrians, offer them your strong young arm, and take no rest till you have avenged yourself on those who have shed the blood of your people and load you, though innocent, with chains." again silence reigned for some time, nothing was heard from ephraim's rude couch save a dull, low moan from his oppressed breast; but at last he answered softly: "the chains no longer weigh upon us, and how could i hate her who released us from them?" "remain grateful to kasana," was the whispered reply, "but hate her nation." hosea heard the youth toss restlessly, and again sigh heavily and moan. it was past midnight, the waxing moon rode high in the heavens, and the sleepless man did not cease to listen for sounds from the youth; but the latter remained silent, though slumber had evidently fled from him also; for a noise as if he were grinding his teeth came from his place of rest. or had mice wandered to this barren place, where hard brown blades of grass grew between the crusts of salt and the bare spots, and were gnawing the prisoners' hard bread? such gnawing and grinding disturb the sleep of one who longs for slumber; but joshua desired to keep awake to continue to open the eyes of the blinded youth, yet he waited in vain for any sign of life from his nephew. at last he was about to lay his hand on the lad's shoulder, but paused as by the moonlight he saw ephraim raise one arm though, before he lay down, both hands were tied more firmly than before. joshua now knew that it was the youth's sharp teeth gnawing the rope which had caused the noise that had just surprised him, and he immediately stood up and looked first upward and then around him. holding his breath, the older man watched every movement, and his heart began to throb anxiously. ephraim meant to fly, and the first step toward escape had already succeeded! would that the others might prosper too! but he feared that the liberated youth might enter the wrong path. he was the only son of his beloved sister, a fatherless and motherless lad, so he had never enjoyed the uninterrupted succession of precepts and lessons which only a mother can give and a defiant young spirit will accept from her alone. the hands of strangers had bound the sapling to a stake and it had shot straight upward, but a mother's love would have ennobled it with carefully chosen grafts. he had grown up beside another hearth than his parents', yet the latter is the only true home for youth. what marvel if he felt himself a stranger among his people. amid such thoughts a great sense of compassion stole over joshua and, with it, the consciousness that he was deeply accountable for this youth who, for his sake, while on the way to bring him a message, had fallen into such sore misfortune. but much as he longed to warn him once more against treason and perjury, he refrained, fearing to imperil his success. any noise might attract the attention of the guards, and he took as keen an interest in the attempt at liberation, as if ephraim had made it at his suggestion. so instead of annoying the youth with fruitless warnings, he kept watch for him; life had taught him that good advice is more frequently unheeded than followed, and only personal experiences possess resistless power of instruction. the chief's practiced eye soon showed him the way by which ephraim, if fortune favored him, could escape. he called softly, and directly after his nephew whispered: "i'll loose your ropes, if you will hold up your hands to me. mine are free!" joshua's tense features brightened. the defiant lad was a noble fellow, after all, and risked his own chance in behalf of one who, if he escaped with him, threatened to bar the way in which, in youthful blindness, he hoped to find happiness. chapter xix. joshua gazed intently around him. the sky was still bright, but if the north wind continued to blow, the clouds which seemed to be rising from the sea must soon cover it. the air had grown sultry, but the guards kept awake and regularly relieved one another. it was difficult to elude their attention; yet close by ephraim's couch, which his uncle, for greater comfort, had helped him make on the side of a gently sloping hill, a narrow ravine ran down to the valley. white veins of gypsum and glittering mica sparkled in the moonlight along its bare edges. if the agile youth could reach this cleft unseen, and crawl through as far as the pool of saltwater, overgrown with tall grass and tangled desert shrubs, at which it ended, he might, aided by the clouds, succeed. after arriving at this conviction joshua considered, as deliberately as if the matter concerned directing one of his soldiers on his way, whether he himself, in case he regained the use of his hands, could succeed in following ephraim without endangering his project. and he was forced to answer this question in the negative; for the guard who sometimes sat, sometimes paced to and fro on a higher part of the crest of the hill a few paces away, could but too easily perceive, by the moonlight, the youth's efforts to loose the firmly-knotted bonds. the cloud approaching the moon might perhaps darken it, ere the work was completed. thus ephraim might, on his account, incur the peril of losing the one fortunate moment which promised escape. would it not be the basest of crimes, merely for the sake of the uncertain chance of flight, to bar the path to liberty of the youth whose natural protector he was? so he whispered to ephraim: "i cannot go with you. creep through the chasm at your right to the salt-pool. i will watch the guards. as soon as the cloud passes over the moon and i clear my throat, start off. if you escape, join our people. greet my old father, assure him of my love and fidelity, and tell him where i am being taken. listen to his advice and miriam's; theirs is the best counsel. the cloud is approaching the moon,--not another word now!" as ephraim still continued to urge him in a whisper to hold up his pinioned arms, he ordered him to keep silence and, as soon as the moon was obscured and the guard, who was pacing to and fro above their heads began a conversation with the man who came to relieve him, joshua cleared his throat and, holding his breath, listened with a throbbing heart for some sound in the direction of the chasm. he first heard a faint scraping and, by the light of the fire which the guards kept on the hill-top as a protection against wild beasts, he saw ephraim's empty couch. he uttered a sigh of relief; for the youth must have entered the ravine. but though he strained his ears to follow the crawling or sliding of the fugitive he heard nothing save the footsteps and voices of the warders. yet he caught only the sound, not the meaning of their words, so intently did he fix his powers of hearing upon the course taken by the fugitive. how nimbly and cautiously the agile fellow must move! he was still in the chasm, yet meanwhile the moon struggled victoriously with the clouds and suddenly her silver disk pierced the heavy black curtain that concealed her from the gaze of men, and her light was reflected like a slender, glittering pillar from the motionless pool of salt-water, enabling the watching joshua to see what was passing below; but he perceived nothing that resembled a human form. had the fugitive encountered any obstacle in the chasm? did some precipice or abyss hold him in its gloomy depths? had--and at the thought he fancied that his heart had stopped beating--had some gulf swallowed the lad when he was groping his way through the night? how he longed for some noise, even the faintest, from the ravine! the silence was terrible. but now! oh, would that it had continued! now the sound of falling stones and the crash of earth sliding after echoed loudly through the still night air. again the moonlight burst through the cloud-curtain, and joshua perceived near the pool a living creature which resembled an animal more than a human being, for it seemed to be crawling on four feet. now the water sent up a shower of glittering spray. the figure below had leaped into the pool. then the clouds again swallowed the lamp of night, and darkness covered everything. with a sigh of relief joshua told himself that he had seen the flying ephraim and that, come what might, the escaping youth had gained a considerable start of his pursuers. but the latter neither remained inert nor allowed themselves to be deceived; for though, to mislead them, he had shouted loudly: "a jackal!" they uttered a long, shrill whistle, which roused their sleeping comrades. a few seconds later the chief warder stood before him with a burning torch, threw its light on his face, and sighed with relief when he saw him. not in vain had he bound him with double ropes; for he would have been called to a severe reckoning at home had this particular man escaped. but while he was feeling the ropes on the prisoner's arms, the glare of the burning torch, which lighted him, fell on the fugitive's rude, deserted couch. there, as if in mockery, lay the gnawed rope. taking it up, he flung it at joshua's feet, blew his whistle again and again, and shouted: "escaped! the hebrew! young curly-head!" paying no farther heed to joshua, he began the pursuit. hoarse with fury, he issued order after order, each one sensible and eagerly obeyed. while some of the guards dragged the prisoners together, counted them, and tied them with ropes, their commander, with the others and his dogs, set off on the track of the fugitive. joshua saw him make the intelligent animals smell ephraim's gnawed bonds and resting-place, and beheld them instantly rush to the ravine. gasping for breath, he also noted that they remained in it quite a long time, and at last--the moon meanwhile scattered the clouds more and more--darted out of the ravine, and dashed to the water. he felt that it was fortunate ephraim had waded through instead of passing round it; for at its edge the dogs lost the scent, and minute after minute elapsed while the commander of the guards walked along the shore with the eager animals, which fairly thrust their noses into the fugitive's steps, in order to again get on the right trail. their loud, joyous barking at last announced that they had found it. yet, even if they persisted in following the runaway, the captive warrior no longer feared the worst, for ephraim had gained a long advance of his pursuers. still, his heart beat loudly enough and time seemed to stand still until the chief-warder returned exhausted and unsuccessful. the older man, it is true, could never have overtaken the swift-footed youth, but the youngest and most active guards had been sent after the fugitive. this statement the captain of the guards himself made with an angry jeer. the kindly-natured man seemed completely transformed,--for he felt what had occurred as a disgrace which could scarcely be overcome, nay, a positive misfortune. the prisoner who had tried to deceive him by the shout of 'jackal!' was doubtless the fugitive's accomplice. prince siptah, too, who had interfered with the duties of his office, he loudly cursed. but nothing of the sort should happen again; and he would make the whole band feel what had fallen to his lot through ephraim. therefore he ordered the prisoners to be again loaded with chains, the ex-chief fastened to a coughing old man, and all made to stand in rank and file before the fire till morning dawned. joshua gave no answer to the questions his new companion-in-chains addressed to him; he was waiting with an anxious heart for the return of the pursuers. at times he strove to collect his thoughts to pray, and commended to the god who had promised his aid, his own destiny and that of the fugitive boy. true, he was often rudely interrupted by the captain of the guards, who vented his rage upon him. yet the man who had once commanded thousands of soldiers quietly submitted to everything, forcing himself to accept it like the unavoidable discomfort of hail or rain; nay, it cost him an effort to conceal his joyful emotion when, toward sunrise, the young warders sent in pursuit returned with tangled hair, panting for breath, and bringing nothing save one of the dogs with a broken skull. the only thing left for the captain of the guards to do was to report what had occurred at the first fortress on the etham border, which the prisoners were obliged in any case to pass, and toward this they were now driven. since ephraim's flight a new and more cruel spirit had taken possession of the warders. while yesterday they had permitted the unfortunate men to move forward at an easy pace, they now forced them to the utmost possible speed. besides, the atmosphere was sultry, and the scorching sun struggled with the thunderclouds gathering in heavy masses at the north. joshua's frame, inured to fatigues of every kind, resisted the tortures of this hurried march; but his weaker companion, who had grown grey in a scribe's duties, often gave way and at last lay prostrate beside him. the captain was obliged to have the hapless man placed on an ass and chain another prisoner to joshua. he was his former yoke-mate's brother, an inspector of the king's stables, a stalwart egyptian, condemned to the mines solely on account of the unfortunate circumstance of being the nearest blood relative of a state criminal. it was easier to walk with this vigorous companion, and joshua listened with deep sympathy and tried to comfort him when, in a low voice, he made him the confidant of his yearning, and lamented the heaviness of heart with which he had left wife and child in want and suffering. two sons had died of the pestilence, and it sorely oppressed his soul that he had been unable to provide for their burial--now his darlings would be lost to him in the other world also and forever. at the second halt the troubled father became franker still. an ardent thirst for vengeance filled his soul, and he attributed the same feeling to his stern-eyed companion, whom he saw had plunged into misfortune from a high station in life. the ex-inspector of the stables had a sister-in-law, who was one of pharaoh's concubines, and through her and his wife, her sister, he had learned that a conspiracy was brewing against the king in the house of the separated.--[harem]. he even knew whom the women desired to place in menephtah's place. as joshua looked at him, half questioning, half doubting, his companion whispered. "siptah, the king's nephew, and his noble mother, are at the head of the plot. when i am once more free, i will remember you, for my sister-in-law certainly will not forget me." then he asked what was taking his companion to the mines, and joshua frankly told his name. but when the egyptian learned that he was fettered to a hebrew, he tore wildly at his chain and cursed his fate. his rage, however, soon subsided in the presence of the strange composure with which his companion in misfortune bore the rudest insults, and joshua was glad to have the other beset him less frequently with complaints and questions. he now walked on for hours undisturbed, free to yield to his longing to collect his thoughts, analyze the new and lofty emotions which had ruled his soul during the past few days, and accommodate himself to his novel and terrible position. this quiet reflection and self-examination relieved him and, during the following night, he was invigorated by a deep, refreshing sleep. when he awoke the setting stars were still in the sky and reminded him of the sycamore in succoth, and the momentous morning when his lost love had won him for his god and his people. the glittering firmament arched over his head, and he had never so distinctly felt the presence of the most high. he believed in his limitless power and, for the first time, felt a dawning hope that the mighty lord who had created heaven and earth would find ways and means to save his chosen people from the thousands of the egyptian hosts. after fervently imploring god to extend his protecting hand over the feeble bands who, obedient to his command, had left so much behind them and marched so confidently through an unknown and distant land, and commended to his special charge the aged father whom he himself could not defend, a wonderful sense of peace filled his soul. the shouts of the guards, the rattling of the chain, his wretched companions in misfortune, nay, all that surrounded him, could not fail to recall the fate awaiting him. he was to grow grey in slavish toil within a close, hot pit, whose atmosphere choked the lungs, deprived of the bliss of breathing the fresh air and beholding the sunlight; loaded with chains, beaten and insulted, starving and thirsting, spending days and nights in a monotony destructive alike to soul and body,--yet not for one moment did he lose the confident belief that this horrible lot might befall any one rather than himself, and something must interpose to save him. on the march farther eastward, which began with the first grey dawn of morning, he called this resolute confidence folly, yet strove to retain it and succeeded. the road led through the desert, and at the end of a few hours' rapid march they reached the first fort, called the fortress of seti. long before, they had seen it through the clear desert air, apparently within a bowshot. unrelieved by the green foliage of bush or palmtree, it rose from the bare, stony, sandy soil, with its wooden palisades, its rampart, its escarped walls, and its lookout, with broad, flat roof, swarming with armed warriors. the latter had heard from pithom that the hebrews were preparing to break through the chain of fortresses on the isthmus and had at first mistaken the approaching band of prisoners for the vanguard of the wandering israelites. from the summits of the strong projections, which jutted like galleries from every direction along the entire height of the escarped walls to prevent the planting of scaling-ladders, soldiers looked through the embrasures at the advancing convicts; yet the archers had replaced their arrows in the quivers, for the watchmen in the towers perceived how few were the numbers of the approaching troop, and a messenger had already delivered to the commander of the garrison an order from his superior authorizing him to permit the passage of the prisoners. the gate of the palisade was now opened, and the captain of the guards allowed the prisoners to lie down on the glowing pavement within. no one could escape hence, even if the guards withdrew; for the high fence was almost insurmountable, and from the battlements on the top of the jutting walls darts could easily reach a fugitive. the ex-chief did not fail to note that everything was ready, as if in the midst of war, for defence against a foe. every man was at his post, and beside the huge brazen disk on the tower stood sentinels, each holding in his hand a heavy club to deal a blow at the approach of the expected enemy; for though as far as the eye could reach, neither tree nor house was visible, the sound of the metal plate would be heard at the next fortress in the etham line, and warn or summon its garrison. to be stationed in the solitude of this wilderness was not a punishment, but a misfortune; and the commander of the army therefore provided that the same troops should never remain long in the desert. joshua himself, in former days, had been in command of the most southerly of these fortresses, called the migdol of the south; for each one of the fortifications bore the name of migdol, which in the semitic tongue means the tower of a fortress. his people were evidently expected here; and it was not to be supposed that moses had led the tribes back to egypt. so they must have remained in succoth or have turned southward. but in that direction rolled the waters of the bitter lakes and the red sea, and how could the hebrew hosts pass through the deep waters? hosea's heart throbbed anxiously at this thought, and all his fears were to find speedy confirmation; for he heard the commander of the fortress tell the captain of the prisoners' guards, that the hebrews had approached the line of fortifications several days before, but soon after, without assaulting the garrison, had turned southward. since then they seemed to have been wandering in the desert between pithom and the red sea. all this had been instantly reported at tanis, but the king was forced to delay the departure of the army for several days until the week of general mourning for the heir to the throne had expired. the fugitives might have turned this to account, but news had come by a carrier dove that the blinded multitude had encamped at pihahiroth, not far from the red sea. so it would be easy for the army to drive them into the water like a herd of cattle; there was no escape for them in any other direction. the captain listened to these tidings with satisfaction; then he whispered a few words to the commander of the fortress and pointed with his finger to joshua, who had long recognized him as a brother-in-arms who had commanded a hundred men in his own cohorts and to whom he had done many a kindness. he was reluctant to reveal his identity in this wretched plight to his former subordinate, who was also his debtor; but the commander flushed as he saw him, shrugged his shoulders as though he desired to express to joshua regret for his fate and the impossibility of doing anything for him, and then exclaimed so loudly that he could not fail to hear: "the regulations forbid any conversation with prisoners of state, but i knew this man in better days, and will send you some wine which i beg you to share with him." as he walked with the other to the gate, and the latter remarked that hosea deserved such favor less than the meanest of the band, because he had connived at the escape of the fugitive of whom he had just spoken, the commander ran his hand through his hair, and answered: "i would gladly have shown him some kindness, though he is much indebted to me; but if that is the case, we will omit the wine; you have rested long enough at any rate." the captain angrily gave the order for departure, and drove the hapless band deeper into the desert toward the mines. this time joshua walked with drooping head. every fibre of his being rebelled against the misfortune of being dragged through the wilderness at this decisive hour, far from his people and the father whom he knew to be in such imminent danger. under his guidance the wanderers might perchance have found some means of escape. his fist clenched when he thought of the fettered limbs which forbade him to utilize the plans his brain devised for the welfare of his people; yet he would not lose courage, and whenever he said to himself that the hebrews were lost and must succumb in this struggle, he heard the new name god himself had bestowed upon him ring in his ears and at the same moment the flames of hate and vengeance on all egyptians, which had been fanned anew by the fortress commander's base conduct, blazed up still more brightly. his whole nature was in the most violent tumult and as the captain noted his flushed cheeks and the gloomy light in his eyes he thought that this strong man, too, had been seized by the fever to which so many convicts fell victims on the march. when, at the approach of darkness, the wretched band sought a night's rest in the midst of the wilderness, a terrible conflict of emotions was seething in joshua's soul, and the scene around him fitly harmonized with his mood; for black clouds had again risen in the north from the sea and, before the thunder and lightning burst forth and the rain poured in torrents, howling, whistling winds swept masses of scorching sand upon the recumbent prisoners. after these dense clouds had been their coverlet, pools and ponds were their beds. the guards had bound them together hand and foot and, dripping and shivering, held the ends of the ropes in their hands; for the night was as black as the embers of their fire which the rain had extinguished, and who could have pursued a fugitive through such darkness and tempest. but joshua had no thought of secret flight. while the egyptians were trembling and moaning, when they fancied they heard the wrathful voice of seth, and the blinding sheets of fire flamed from the clouds, he only felt the approach of the angry god, whose fury he shared, whose hatred was also his own. he felt himself a witness of his all-destroying omnipotence, and his breast swelled more proudly as he told himself that he was summoned to wield the sword in the service of this mightiest of the mighty. etext editor's bookmarks: a school where people learned modesty but what do you men care for the suffering you inflict on others childhood already lies behind me, and youth will soon follow good advice is more frequently unheeded than followed precepts and lessons which only a mother can give should i be a man, if i forgot vengeance? to the mines meant to be doomed to a slow, torturing death what had formerly afforded me pleasure now seemed shallow this ebook was produced by david widger <widger@cecomet.net> [note: there is a short list of bookmarks, or pointers, at the end of the file for those who may wish to sample the author's ideas before making an entire meal of them. d.w.] barbara blomberg by georg ebers volume 6. chapter xxv. after this conversation the two men who, in different positions, stood nearest to the emperor charles, placed no obstacle in barbara's way. the third--the bishop of arras--also showed a friendly spirit toward the emperor's love affair. true, he had not been taken into his confidence, but he rarely failed to be present when barbara sang with the boy choir, or alone, in the golden cross, before the monarch or distinguished guests. charles summoned her there almost daily, and always at different hours. this was done to strengthen the courtiers and the citizens of ratisbon in the belief that barbara owed his favour solely to her singing. granvelle, who appreciated and was interested in music as well as in painting and sculpture, found real pleasure in listening to barbara, yet while doing so he did not forget that she might be of service to him. if she only remained on good terms with him she would, he was sure of that, whether willing or not, be used as his tool. spite of his nine-and-twenty years, he forbade himself to cherish any other wishes, because he would have regarded it treachery to the royal master whom he served with faithful devotion. but, as he accepted great gifts without ever allowing himself to be tempted to treason or forgetfulness of duty, so he did not reject little tokens of friendliness from barbara, and of these she showed no lack. the young bishop of arras was also an extremely fine-looking man, whose clever brain and bright, penetrating glance harmonized with his great intellect and his position. wolf had already told her how much the monarch regarded the opinion of this counsellor. the fourth person whose good will had been represented to her as valuable was the almoner, pedro de soto; but he, who usually understood how to pay homage to beautiful women in the most delicate manner, kept rigidly aloof. true, he had placed no obstacle in the way of the late kindling of the heart of his imperial master, but since his servant's report, from which it appeared that barbara was on friendly terms with heretics, and therefore cherished but a lukewarm devotion to her own faith, she was no longer the same to him. in spain this would have been enough to deliver her to the holy inquisition. here, however, matters were different. everywhere he saw the lambs associating with the wolves, and the larger number of the relatives of the emperor's love had become converts to heresy. therefore indulgence was demanded, and de soto would have gladly been convinced of barbara's orthodoxy under such difficult circumstances. but if it proved that the girl not only associated with heretics, but inclined to their error, then gentle inaction must be transformed into inexorable sternness, even though the rejuvenating power which she exerted upon the monarch were tenfold stronger than it doubtless was; for what danger might threaten the emperor and christianity from the bewitching woman who seemed to love charles, if she undertook to influence him in favour of the new doctrines, which, in the eyes of every earnest dominican, the emperor treated far too leniently! he, the confessor, even knew that charles considered several demands of the protestants to which the church could never consent, entirely justifiable--nay, that he deemed a reformation of the church by the council now in session at trent extremely desirable. therefore it was a duty to withhold from him every influence which could favour these pernicious views and wishes, and pedro de soto had also been young and knew only too well what power so beautiful a woman, with such bewitching gifts, could exert upon the man whose heart cherishes her. so, immediately after barbara's entrance into prebrunn, the confessor adopted his measures. although the conversation to which he subjected her had resulted in her favour, he had deemed it beneficial to place a priest who was devoted to him among the ecclesiastics in the little castle. to surround her with spies chosen from the lay class was repugnant to his lofty nature. besides, they would have been superfluous; for a short time before his servant cassian had asked permission to marry the marquise's french maid, and alphonsine, who was neither young nor pretty, was inclined to all sorts of intrigues. she supplied slow, pious cassian's deficiencies in the best possible manner. a chance word from the distinguished prelate had sufficed to make it their duty to watch barbara and her visitors. in alphonsine's mistress, the marquise de leria, the almoner also possessed a willing tale-bearer. she had avoided him since his refusal to commend her ruined son to the favour of his imperial penitent. now, unasked, she had again approached him, and her explanation first gave many an apparently unimportant communication from the servants its real value. the atmosphere of the court was her vital air. even when she had voluntarily offered to take barbara under her charge, in a secluded house in the suburb, she had been aware how greatly she would miss the presence of royalty. yet she would have endured far more difficult things, for a thousand signs betrayed that this time his majesty's heart had not been merely superficially touched, and barbara's traits of character made it appear probable that, like many a beauty at the court of francis i of france, she might obtain an influence over the emperor. if this occurred, the marquise had found the most powerful tool for the deliverance of her son. this hope filled the old noblewoman's heart and brain. it was her last, for the emperor was the only person who could save the worthless idol of her soul from ruin, and yet, when she had grovelled at his knees in her despair, she received an angry repulse and the threat of being instantly deprived of her position if she ever again attempted to speak to him about this vexatious matter. she knew only too well that charles would keep his word, and therefore had already induced every person whom she believed possessed even a small share of influence over the monarch to intercede for her, but they had been no less sharply rebuffed than herself; for the sovereign, usually so indulgent to the reckless pranks of the young nobles, would not even hear the name of the aristocratic sharper, who was said to have sold the plans of the fortifications to france. charles now loved a woman whom, with swift presence of mind, she had bound to herself, and what no one else had succeeded in doing barbara might accomplish. therefore the marquise had retired to the solitude which she hated, and hourly humbled herself to cringing flattery of a creature whom, on account of her birth, she scorned. but barbara was warned and, difficult as it often was for her to withstand the humble entreaties to which the old lady in waiting frequently condescended, persisted in her refusal. yet the unhappy mother did not give up hope, for as soon as the singer committed any act which she was obliged to conceal she could obtain power over her. so she kept her eyes open and, whenever the emperor sought the young girl and was alone with her, she stole into the garden and peered through the badly fitting window shutters into the lighted room which was the scene of the happiness of the ill-matched lovers. what she overheard, however, only increased the feeling of powerlessness against the hated creature whom she so urgently needed; for the tenderness which charles showed barbara was so great that it not only filled the marquise with surprise and bitter envy, but also awakened the conviction that it must be a small matter for the singer to obtain from so ardent a lover far greater things than she had asked. so she continued to watch and listen unweariedly, day after day and evening after evening, but always in vain. she had not the most trivial thing for which barbara could be seriously reproached to report to the confessor; yet de soto desired nothing better, for barbara still exerted an extremely favourable influence upon the emperor's mood. therefore it vexed him that cassian informed him of many things which prevented his relying firmly upon her orthodoxy. at any rate, there were protestants among her visitors and, unfortunately, they included herr peter schlumperger, whom de soto knew as an active promoter of the apostasy of the ratisbon burghers. he had called upon her the second day after her arrival and remained a long time but, it is true, had not appeared again. with the others also she held no regular intercourse--nay, she scarcely seemed to enjoy their visits. thus the daughters of the woller family from the ark, who had appeared one afternoon, had been detained only a little longer by her than other protestant matrons and maidens. all this was scarcely sufficient to foster his anxiety; but cassian reported one visit with which the case was different. barbara had not only received this guest alone, but she had kept him more than an hour, and the servant could swear that the young man to whom she sang long songs--which, it is true, sounded like church music--to the lute and also to the harp, was erasmus eckhart, the adopted son of the archtraitor, dr. hiltner, who had just obtained the degree of master of arts in wittenberg. this seemed suspicious, and induced de soto to investigate the matter thoroughly. erasmus had come in the morning, at a time when the emperor never visited barbara. nothing remarkable had taken place during their interview, but cassian had heard her dismiss him with a warning which, even to a less distrustful person, would have seemed suspicious. why had she assured the wittenberg theologian, as she extended her hand to him in farewell, that what he offered her had given her great pleasure, and she would gladly invite him to bring her similar things often, but must deny herself this gratification from motives which he could imagine? his urgent entreaty at least to be permitted to call on her sometimes she had curtly and positively refused, but the wittenberg heretic did not allow himself to be rebuffed, for cassian had seen him several times in the neighbourhood of the castle. there was as little cause to object to the visits paid to her by gombert, appenzelder, damian feys, occasionally some noblemen or guests of the court, and once even by no less a personage than the bishop of arras, as to the rides she took every afternoon; for the latter were always under the charge of herr de fours, an old equerry of the emperor, and in the company of several courtiers, among whom baron malfalconnet was often included. a number of gay young pages always belonged to this brilliant cavalcade, whose number never lacked the handsome sixteen-year-old count tassis, who spent his whole large stock of pocket money in flowers which he sent every morning to barbara. the confessor was glad to hear that the estimable violinist massi frequently visited the girl, for he was firm in the faith, and that he brought her tidings of the sorely wounded sir wolf hartschwert could only be beneficial, for perhaps he warned her of the seriousness of life and that there were other things here below than the joy of love, jest, and laughter. the almoner's doubt of wolf's orthodoxy had been entirely dispelled by his confession. men do not deceive in the presence of death. it would have been a genuine boon had barbara selected him to open her heart to him in the confessional, for her relation to the wounded man rendered it difficult for him to trust her entirely. wolf's thoughts in his fever constantly dwelt upon her, and he sometimes accused her of the basest treachery, sometimes coupled her name with malfalconnet's, sometimes with luis quijada's. the emperor's, on the contrary, he had not mentioned. he must love barbara with ardent passion, and she, too, still seemed warmly attached to him, for to see him again she had bravely exposed herself to serious danger. eye and ear witnesses had reported that, notwithstanding his majesty's positive orders to avoid her old home, she had entered the house and the knight's apartments, knelt beside his couch, and even kissed his weak, burning hand with tender devotion. but though she still retained a portion of her former affection for wolf hartschwert, she loved the emperor charles with passionate fervour. even the marquise did not venture to doubt this. often as she had watched the meetings of the lovers, she had marvelled at the youthful ardour of the monarch, the joyous excitement with which barbara awaited him, and her sorrowful depression when he left her. during the first week the old noblewoman thought that she had never met a happier pair. the almoner deemed it unworthy of him to listen to a report of the caresses which she scornfully mentioned. the time even came when he no longer needed confirmation from others, and forbade himself to doubt barbara's fidelity to her religion; for at the end of the first week in prebrunn she had desired to ask a servant of the church what she must do to make herself worthy of such abundance of the highest happiness, and to atone for the sin she was committing through her love. in doing so she had opened her heart to the confessor with childlike frankness, and what de soto heard on this occasion sincerely delighted him and endeared to him this thoroughly sound, beautiful creature overmastered by a first great passion. he believed her, and indignantly rejected what the spies afterward brought to him. yet he did not close his ears to the marquise when, in her clever, entertaining way, she told him what, against her will, she had overheard in consequence of the careless construction of the little castle, built only for a summer residence, or had seen during a walk in the garden when the shutters, through forgetfulness, had not been closed. how should he not have heard gladly that the monarch, at every interview with barbara, listened to her singing with special pleasure? at first she chose grave, usually even religious songs, and among them charles's favourite was the "quia amore langueo." to listen to these deeply felt tones of yearning always seemed to possess a fresh charm for him. no wonder! the singer understood how to produce a new effect each time by means of wonderful gradations of expression in the comprehension and execution. once she had also succeeded in cheering her lover with perissone cambio's merry singing lesson on the 'ut re mi fa sol', and again with willaert's laughing song, "sempre mi ridesta." two days later there had again been a great deal of laughing because barbara undertook to sing to his majesty another almost recklessly merry song by the same composer. the marquise knew it, and declared that barbara's style and voice did not suit such things. she admitted that her execution of serious, especially religious and solemn compositions, was not amiss--nay, often it was wonderfully fine--but in such secular tunes her real nature appeared too plainly, and the skilful singer became a bacchante. it had been a sorry pleasure to her to watch the boisterous manner and singing of this creature, who had been far too highly favoured by the caprice of fortune. these reckless songs, unless she was mistaken, had also been by no means pleasing to his majesty. the light had fallen directly upon his face just as she happened to glance up at the house from under the group of lindens, and she had distinctly seen him angrily thrust out his lower lip, which every one near his person knew was a sign of extreme displeasure. but the girl had gone beyond all bounds. old as she was, she could not help blushing at the mere thought of it. in her reckless mood she had probably forgotten that she had drawn her imperial lover into her net by arts of an entirely different nature. the almoner listened incredulously, for in his youth the emperor charles had joined in the wildest songs of the soldiery, and had well understood, on certain occasions, how to be merry with the merry, laugh and carouse in a flemish tavern. after the confession the almoner heard things to which he would gladly have shut his ears, though they proved that the time which the marquise had spent at the french court had benefited her powers of observation. three days before the emperor, for the first time, had seriously found fault with barbara. it had been impossible for the lady in waiting to discover the cause; but what she knew certainly was that her lover's censure had roused the girl to vehement contradiction, and that his majesty, after a sharp reply, had been on the point of leaving her. true, the reckless beauty had repented her imprudent outburst of wrath speedily enough, and had understood how to conciliate the far too indulgent sovereign by such humility and such sweet tenderness that he probably must have forgiven her--at least the farewell had been as affectionate as ever. nevertheless, on the following evening, for the first time, he did not come to the castle, and the marquise had feared that the emperor might now withdraw his favour from barbara, which would have been too soon for her own wishes. but yesterday evening, after sunset, the dark litter, to the old noblewoman's relief, had again stopped behind the garden gate, and the pleasure of having her lover again had so deeply overjoyed barbara that he, too, was infected by her radiant delight. then, in the midst of the most tender caresses, he had been summoned out of the room, and when he returned, with frowning brow, the marquise had witnessed at least the commencement of a scene which seemed to justify her opinion that his majesty: would have no taste for barbara's utter freedom from restraint and gay secular songs. unfortunately, she had been prematurely driven from her post of observation; but she had seen the emperor come in, and barbara, without noticing his altered expression, or rather, probably, to cheer him by something especially merry, gaily began baldassare donati's superb dancing-master's song, "qui la gagliarda vuol imparare," at the same time in the merriest, most graceful manner imitating the movements of the gagliarda dancer. but charles soon interrupted her, sharply requesting her to sing something else or cease entirely for that day. startled, she again asked forgiveness, and then pleaded in justification the universally acknowledged beauty of this charming song, which maestro gombert also admired; but the emperor flew into a passion, and cut her short with the loud remark that he was not in the habit of having his own judgment corrected by the opinion of others. the jest did all honour to the skill and merry mood of the composer, but the contrary might be said of the singer who ventured to sing it to a person in whom it could awaken only bitter feelings. but when, so painfully surprised that her eyes filled with tears, she confessed that her selection perhaps had not been very appropriate, and sadly added the inquiry why her beloved sovereign condemned a trivial offence so harshly, he wrathfully exclaimed, "for more than one reason." then, rising, he paced the room several times with a somewhat limping gait, saying, in so loud a tone that it could be distinctly heard in the dark, sultry garden: "because it shows little delicacy of feeling when the man who is satiated tells the starving one of the dainty meal which he has just eaten; because--because i call it shameful for a person who can see to tell one who is blind of the pleasure he derives from the splendid colours of gay flowers; because i expect from the woman whom i honour with my love more consideration for me and what shadows my life. because"--and here he raised his voice still more angrily--"i demand from any one united to me, the emperor, by whatever bond----" the marquise had been unable to hear more of the monarch's violent attack, for the messenger who had just brought the unwelcome news--it was adrian dubois--had not only passed her, but ventured to call to her and remark that she would be wise to go into the house--a thunderstorm was rising. he was not afraid of the rain, and would wait there for his majesty. so the listener did not hear how the incensed monarch continued with the demand that the woman he loved should neither tell him falsehoods nor deceive him. until then barbara had listened, silent and pale, biting her trembling lips in order to adhere to her resolve to submit without reply to whatever charles's terrible irritability inflicted upon her. but he must have noticed what was passing in her mind, for he suddenly paused in his walk, and, abruptly standing before her, gazed full into her face, exclaiming: "it is not you who are offended, but i, the sovereign whom you say you love. day before yesterday i forbade you to go to the musician in red cock street, yet you were with him to-day. i asked you just now whether you had obeyed me and, with smiling lips, you assented." barbara was already prepared with an answer in harmony with the sharpness of the attack, yet her lover's reproof was well founded. when he had left the room shortly before he must have been informed that, in defiance of his explicit command, she had gone to the knight's house that morning. but no one had ever charged her with lack of courage. why had she not dared to confess the fault which, from a good and certainly pardonable impulse, she had committed? was she not free, or when had she placed herself under obligation to render blind obedience to her lover? but the falsehood! how severely she must perhaps atone for it this time! yet the esteem, the love of the man to whom her heart clung, whom she worshipped with all the fervour of her passionate soul, might be at stake, and when he now seized his hat to withdraw she barred his way. sobbing aloud, she threw herself at his feet, confessed that she was guilty, and remorsefully admitted that fear of his resentment, which seemed to her more terrible than death, had induced her to deny what she had done. she could hate herself for it. nothing could palliate the departure from the path of truth, but her disobedience might perhaps appear to him in a milder light if he learned what had induced her to commit it. charles, still in an angry, imperious tone, ordered her to rise. she silently obeyed, and when he threw himself on the divan she timidly sat down by his side, turning toward him her troubled face, which for the first time he saw wet with tears. yet a hopeful smile brightened her moist eyes, for she felt that, since he permitted her to remain at his side, all might yet be well. then she timidly took his hand and, as he permitted it, she held it firmly while she explained what ties had bound her to wolf from childhood. she represented herself as the sisterly counsellor of the friend who had grown up in the same house with her. music and the catholic religion, in the midst of a city which had fallen into the protestant heresy, had been the bond between them. after his return home he had probably been unable to help falling in love with her, but, so truly as she hoped for heaven's mercy, she had kept her heart closed against cupid until he, the emperor, had approached in order, like that other caesar, to come, to see, and to conquer. but she was only a woman, and pity in a woman's soft heart was as hard to silence as the murmur of a swift mountain stream or the rushing of the wind. yesterday she had learned from the violinist massi that the knight's condition was much more critical, and he desired before his death to clasp her hand again. so, believing that disobedience committed to lighten the last hours of a dying man would be pardonable before god and human beings, she had visited the unfortunate wolf. the helpful and joy-bestowing power of good works, which the protestants denied, had thus become very evident to her; for since she had clasped the sufferer's hand an indescribable sense of happiness had taken possession of her, while the knight began to improve. the news had reached her just before this, the emperor's, arrival, had made her happy, and, in spite of her evil conscience, had put her in a very cheerful mood. but now this beautiful evening had become the saddest one of her whole life. fresh tears, and the other means of conciliation inspired by her loving heart, then induced the angry lover to forgive her. barbara felt this as a great piece of good fortune, and made every effort to curb the refractory temper which, hitherto, had found nothing less welcome than humble submission. day after day since that evening the confessor had been informed that nothing interrupted the concord of the lovers, and that barbara often prayed very fervently in the private chapel. this pleased the almoner, and when cassian told him that, on the evening after the quarrel, the emperor had again come to the castle to remain a long time, he rejoiced. to barbara this visit had been a true heavenly blessing, but though charles showed himself sufficiently loving, she felt, even during the succeeding visits, that since that fateful episode something difficult to describe or explain had rested like a gloomy shadow on the emperor's joyous confidence. this change in her lover could scarcely be due to her, for she had honestly endeavoured to avoid everything which could anger him. how should she have suspected that the great student of human nature to whom she had given her heart perceived the restraint which she imposed upon herself in every interview with him, and that the moderation to which she submitted from love robbed her of a portion of the charm her gay unconcern had exerted upon him? charles suspiciously attributed this change in the disposition of the woman he loved sometimes to one cause, sometimes to another; and when he showed her that he missed something in her which had been dear to him, she thought it a new token of his dissatisfaction, and increased the restraint which she placed upon herself. if the gout again attacked him or the pressure of business, which at that time constantly made more and more imperious demands upon the emperor charles, detained him from her on one or another evening, torturing anxiety assailed her, and she had no sleep all night. besides, the marquise did not cease to press her with entreaties and expostulations, and frau lerch constantly urged barbara to profit by the favour of such a lover. she ought to think of the future, and indemnify herself with estates and titles for the sad fate awaiting her if his majesty wearied of her love. the ex-maid knew how to describe, in vivid hues, how all would turn from her if that should happen, and how little the jewels with which he sometimes delighted her would avail. but barbara had cared only for her lord's love, and it was not even difficult for her to resist the urgency. yet whenever she was alone with charles, and he showed plainly how dear she was to him, the question forced itself upon her whether this would not be the right time to speak of her future, and to follow the counsel of the experienced woman who certainly meant kindly toward her. this made her silent and constrained for a time, and when she saw that her manner annoyed her lover she thrust aside the selfish impulse which was rendering her unlovable, and sometimes showed her delight in the victory of love over every other feeling so impetuously, that her nature seemed to have lost the unvarying cheerfulness which had formerly delighted him, and he left her in a less satisfied mood. besides, the marquise had received a letter from paris, in which her son declared that if his gambling debts were not paid by the first of august he would be completely disgraced, and nothing would remain for him except to end an existence which had lost all charm. the wretched mother again opened her heart to barbara and, when she still resisted her lamentations and entreaties, threw herself on her knees and sobbing besought her to let her heart be softened. the sight of the aged noblewoman writhing like a maniac in the dust was so pitiful and touching that it melted barbara's heart, and induced her to promise to use the first favourable opportunity to intercede with the emperor in behalf of her son and his child, a little girl of six. from that time she awaited at every new interview the opportune moment; but when charles was less gracious, the right time certainly had not come, and when he was especially loving the happiness of possessing his heart seemed to her so great that it appeared sinful to risk it for the sake of a stranger. this waiting and conflict with herself also did not remain unnoticed, and it was characteristic of charles to reflect upon and seek reasons for it. only the spell of her voice and her beauty had remained unchanged, and when she sang in the golden cross in the presence of the guests, who became more numerous the nearer drew the time of the opening of the reichstag, fixed for the fifth of june, and he perceived their delight, vanity fanned the dying fire again, for he still loved her, and therefore felt associated with her and her successes. so the days became weeks, and though they brought barbara a wealth of happiness, they were not free from gloomy and bitter hours. the marquise, who saw her son's doom drawing nearer and nearer, made the mealtimes and every moment which she spent with her a perfect hell. frau lerch continued to urge her, and now advised her to persuade the emperor to rid her of the old tormentor. in another matter also she was at a loss what to do. the wittenberg theologian, erasmus eckhart, found that his own songs, when she sang them to him, seemed entirely new, and the gratitude he felt merged into ardent love, the first which had taken possession of his young soul. but barbara resolutely refused to receive his visits, and thereby deprived him of the possibility of opening his heart to her. so, in despair, he wandered about her house more and more frequently, and sent her one fiery love letter after another. to betray his unseemly conduct to the emperor or to the confessor would have brought upon him too severe a punishment for an offence which, after all, was the most profound homage. she dared not go to the hiltners, from fear of a fresh misunderstanding, and it would be a long time ere wolf's health would permit him to be excited by such matters. so she was forced to content herself with censuring erasmus's conduct, through frau lerch, in the harshest manner, and threatening to appeal to his foster-parents and, in the worst extremity, to the magistrate, to rid herself of his importunities. nearly two thirds of may had passed when the emperor found himself prevented by a second attack of gout from visiting her. but barbara's heart drew her toward him so strongly that during the usual noon ride she hit upon an idea, for whose execution she immediately made preparations by secretly entreating young count tassis to lend her one of his suits of clothes. the merry page, a handsome boy of sixteen, who had already crossed rapiers with one of his companions for her sake, was about her height, and delighted to share a secret with her. his most expensive costume, with everything belonging to it, was placed in her room at twilight, and when night closed in, disguised as a page, she entered the litter and was carried to the golden cross, where adrian received her and conducted her to his royal master. the elderly man thought he had never seen her look so charming as in the yellow velvet doublet with ash-gray facings, the gray silk hose, and the yellow and gray cap resting on her glittering golden hair. and the emperor charles was of the same opinion. besides, her lively prank transported him back to his own youth, when he himself had glided more than once in page's attire to some beautiful young lady of the court, and gaily as in better days, tenderly as an ardent youth, he thanked her for her charming enterprise. after a few blissful hours, which crowded all that she had lately suffered into oblivion, she left him. when she again entered the little prebrunn castle she would gladly have embraced the whole world. from the litter she had noticed a light in the windows of the marquise's sitting-room, but she could now look the poor old noblewoman freely in the face, for this time, sure of experiencing no sharp rebuff, she had found courage to speak of the son to her royal lover. true, as soon as charles heard what she desired, he kindly requested her not to sully her beautiful lips with the name of a scoundrel who had long since forfeited every claim to his favour, and her mission was thereby frustrated; but she had now kept her promise. with the entreaty to spare him in future the pain of refusing any wish of the woman he loved, the disagreeable affair had been dismissed. when barbara took the lute, he had begged the fairest of all troubadours to sing once more, before any other song, his beloved "quia amore langueo," and the most vigorous applause was bestowed on every one which she afterward executed. now she had done all that was possible for the marquise, but no power on earth should induce her to undertake anything of the sort a second time; she was saying this to herself as she entered the little castle. let the old noblewoman come now! she was not long in doing so. but how she looked! the little gray curls done up in papers stood out queerly from her narrow head. her haggard cheeks were destitute of rouge and lividly pale. her black eyes glittered strangely from their deep sockets as if she were insane, and ragged pieces of her morning dress, which she had torn in a fit of helpless fury, hung down upon her breast. the sight made barbara shudder. she suspected the truth. during her absence a new message of evil had reached the marquise. unless ten thousand lire could be sent to her son at once, he would be condemned to the galleys, and his child would be abandoned to misery and disgrace. while speaking, the wretched mother, with trembling hands, tore out a locket which she wore on a little chain around her neck. it contained the angelic face, painted on ivory by an artist's hand, of a fair-haired little girl. the child bore her name, barbara. the singer knew this. how often the affectionate grandmother had told her with sparkling eyes of her little "babette"! the father chained to the rowers' bench among the most abominable ruffians, this loveliest of children perishing in hunger, misery, and shame--what a terrible picture! barbara beheld it with tangible distinctness, and while the undignified old aristocrat, deprived of all self-control, sobbed and besought her to have compassion, the girl who had grown up amid poverty and care went back in memory to the days when, to earn money for a thin soup, a bit of dry bread, a small piece of cheap cow beef, or to protect herself from the importunity of an unpaid tradesman, she had washed laces with her own delicate hands and seen her nobly born, heroic father scratch crooked letters and scrawling ornaments upon common gray tin. the same fate, nay, one a thousand times worse, awaited this wonderfully lovely patrician child, whose father was to wield the oars in the galleys if no one interceded for the unfortunate man. what was life! from the height of happiness it led her directly to such an abyss of the deepest woe. what contrasts! a day, an hour had transported her from bitter poverty and torturing yearning to the side of the highest and greatest of monarchs, but who could tell for how long--how soon the fall into the gulf awaited her? a shudder ran through her frame, and a deep pity for the sweet creature whose coloured likeness she held in her hand seized upon her. she probably remembered her lover's refusal, and that she only needed to allude to it to release herself from the wailing old woman, but an invisible power sealed her lips. she was filled with an ardent desire to help, to avert this unutterable misery, to bring aid to this child, devoted to destruction. to rise above everything petty, and with the imperial motto "more, farther," before her eyes, to attain a lofty height from which to look down upon others and show her own generosity to them, had been the longing of her life. she was still permitted to feel herself the object of the love of the mightiest sovereign on earth, and should she be denied performing, by her own power, an act of deliverance to which heart and mind urged her? no, and again no! she was no longer poor wawerl! she could and would show this, for, like an illumination, words which she had heard the day before in the golden cross had flashed into her memory. master wenzel jamnitzer, the famous nuremberg goldsmith, had addressed them to her in the imperial apartments, where he had listened to her singing the day before. he had come to consult with the emperor charles about the diadems which he wished to give his two nieces, the daughters of ferdinand, king of the romans, who were to be married in july in ratisbon. their manufacture had been intrusted to master jamnitzer, and after the concert the nuremberg artist had thanked barbara for the pleasure which he owed her. in doing so, he had noticed the emperor's first gift, the magnificent star which she wore on her breast at the side of her squarenecked dress. examining it with the eye of an expert, he had remarked that the central stone alone was worth an estate. if she deprived herself of this superb ornament, the despairing old mother would be consoled, and the lovely child saved from hunger and disgrace. with barbara, thought, resolve, and action followed one another in rapid succession. "you shall have what you need to-morrow," she called to the marquise, kissed--obeying a hasty impulse--her little namesake's picture, rejected any expression of thanks from the astonished old dame, and went to rest. frau lerch had never seen her so radiant with happiness, yet she was irritated by the reserve of the girl for whom she thought she had sacrificed so much, yet whose new garments had already brought her more profit than the earnings of the three previous years. the next morning master jamnitzer called the valuable star his own, and pledged himself to keep the matter secret, and to obtain from the fuggers a bill of exchange upon paris for ten thousand lire. the honest man sent her through the haller banking house a thousand ducats, that he might not be open to the reproach of having defrauded her. yet the gold which she did not need for the marquise seemed to barbara like money unjustly obtained. while she was riding out at noon, frau lerch found it in her chest, and thought that she now knew what had made the girl so happy the day before. she was all the more indignant when, soon after, barbara gave half the new wealth to the prebrunn town clerk to distribute among the poor journeymen potters whose huts had been burned down the previous night. the rest she kept to give to the relatives of her one-eyed maid-servant at home, who were in the direst poverty. for the first time she had felt the pleasure of interposing, like a higher power, in the destiny of others. what she had hoped from the greatness to which she had risen now appeared on the eve of being actually and wholly fulfilled. even the strange manner in which the marquise thanked her for her generosity could but partially impair the exquisite sense of happiness which filled her heart. as soon as the old noblewoman heard that the bill of exchange for her son was on the way to paris, she expressed her intention of thanking his majesty for this noble donation. startled and anxious, barbara was obliged to forbid this, and to confess that, on the contrary, the emperor had refused to do anything whatever for her son, and that morning, for little babette's sake, she had used her own property. the marquise then angrily declared that a marquise de leria could accept such a favour without a blush solely from his majesty. even from an equal in station she must refuse gifts of such value. if barbara was honest, she would admit that she had never, even by a syllable, asked for a donation, but always only for her intercession with his majesty. her hasty action made withdrawal impossible, but the humiliation which she had experienced through her was so hard to conquer that she could scarcely bring herself to feel grateful for a gift which, in itself, was certainly worthy of appreciation. in fact, from that time the marquise entirely changed her manner, and instead of flattering her ward as before, she treated her with haughty coldness, and sometimes remarked that poverty and hostility were often easier to bear than intrusive kindness and humiliating gifts. hitherto barbara had placed no one under obligation to be grateful, and therefore the ugliness of ingratitude was unknown to her. now she was to become acquainted with it. at first this disappointment wounded her, but soon the marquise's intention of ridding herself, by this conduct, of a heavy debt became apparent, and she opposed to the base cunning a gay defence, but was then forced to encounter the marquise's condemnation of it as the outgrowth of an ungenerous soul. how unpleasant this was! yet she kept what she had done for the old aristocrat and the way in which she had requited it a secret, even from frau lerch, especially as the emperor soon alluded to his denial of her entreaty, and gave a description of young leria which filled her with horror, and led to the conviction that the sacrifice which she had made for him and his little daughter had been utterly futile. little babette, she also heard, was cared for in the best possible manner, having been withdrawn front her father's influence long before and placed in charge of an estimable, wealthy, and aristocratic aunt, her mother's sister, who filled the latter's place. this act of charity had been utterly spoiled for the overhasty giver, and, while the glad remembrance of the pure delight which she had felt after her generous resolve faded more and more, she began to be uneasy about her reckless transaction with the nuremberg goldsmith, for the emperor during his very next visit had asked about the star, and in her confusion she had again been forced into a falsehood, and tried to excuse herself for so rarely wearing his beautiful present by the pretext that the gold pin which fastened it was bent. she could have inflicted various punishments upon herself for her precipitate yielding to a hastily awakened sympathy, for it would surely anger the emperor if he learned how carelessly she had treated his first costly gift. perhaps some hint of its sale had already reached his ears, for, although he had made no opposition to her apology, he afterward remained taciturn and irritable. every subsequent interview with her lover was terribly shadowed by the dread that he might think of the unlucky ornament again. yet, on this occasion also, fear prevented the brave girl from confessing the whole truth. chapter xxvi. on st. desiderius's day--[may 23rd]--the emperor again missed the star, and, as it was in the golden cross and the heat was great, barbara replied that her dress was too thin for the heavy ornament. but the inquiry had made her fear of additional questions so great that she rejoiced over the news that her lover would not visit her the next day. on the day before yesterday christoph madrucci, the cardinal of trent, his warlike brother hildebrand, and the count of arco had arrived, bringing news from the council; but on the morrow duke maurice of saxony was expected, and the most important negotiations were to be carried on not only with him, but also with the former, each individual being dealt with singly and at different hours. in the evening the welcome guest was to be entertained by music and, if agreeable to barbara, by singing also. on the twenty-fifth the city had decided to give a may festival under the lindens in honour of the duke. the emperor and the whole court were of course invited. barbara then acknowledged that she was fond of such magnificent exhibitions, and begged charles to allow her to attend the festival with the marquise. the answer was an assent, but the emperor gave it after some delay, and with the remark that he could devote little time to her, and expected that she would subject herself to some restraint. true, the painful surprise which her features expressed vividly enough led him to add the apology that, on account of the presence of the two cardinals--for one had come from augsburg--he would be compelled to deny himself the pleasure of showing her anything more than courteous consideration in public; but she could not succeed in conquering the mortification which, besides the grief of disappointment, had taken possession of her sensitive soul. charles probably perceived, by the alternate flushing and paling of her cheeks, what was passing in her thoughts, and would gladly have soothed her; but he refrained, and forced himself to be content with the few conciliatory words which he had already addressed to her. great events were impending. if he decided upon war, nothing, not even love, could be permitted to encroach too heavily upon his time and strength; but barbara and the demands which her love made upon him would surely do this if he did not early impose moderation upon her and himself. he had heard nothing about the sale of the star, and whatever had displeased him in barbara's conduct during the last few weeks she had succeeded in effacing. yet he had often been on the point of breaking off his relations with her, for just at this time it was of infinite importance that he should keep himself free and strong in mind and body. moreover, in a few days he expected his brother ferdinand with his grown children. two of his nieces were to be married here in his presence, and he felt that he ought not to let either them or the cardinal of trent-who was coming from the council and would return there--see how strong were the fetters with which, at his age and just at this time, he allowed himself to be bound by love for a beautiful singer. the wisdom which had long been characteristic of him commanded him to sever abruptly the connection with the woman he loved and remove her from his path. but the demands of the heart and the senses were too powerful for the man who indulged to excess in fiery wine and spiced foods, though he knew that greater abstinence would have spared him torturing pangs. he had succeeded hundreds of times in obtaining the victory over other urgent wishes, and conquering strong affections. but this was different, for separation from barbara must, at any rate, destroy the exquisite late happiness of the newly unfolded enjoyment of life, and for this heavy loss he saw no compensation. to part from her entirely, therefore, seemed to him impossible--at any rate, for the present. on the other hand, the duty of the sovereign and consideration for his relatives both commanded him to restrict the demands of her passionate young heart and his own, which had so recently awaked from slumber. he had recognised this necessity, and considered the pros and cons precisely as if the matter were a political question. he who, without the quiver of an eyelash, had sent many a band of soldiers to certain death in order to execute a well-conceived plan of battle, was compelled to inflict keen suffering upon the woman he loved and himself, that greater interests might not be injured. he had commenced the retreat that day. the constraint which it was necessary to impose upon themselves must be equally painful to them both, yet this could not be altered. had it affected him alone, in defiance of his sense of rank and the tyranny of court etiquette, he would have led barbara, attired like a true queen, with his own hand to the festival under the lindens, but the gratification of this heartfelt wish would have entailed too many evil consequences. toying with her, who so quickly understood and so gratefully accepted the gifts of the intellect which he offered, was so sweet, but in these days it must not be permitted to impair mental repose, keen thought. what he had to discuss and settle with maurice of saxony and cardinal madrucci was of too momentous importance to the destiny of the world, to the church, to his fame as a sovereign, to his own greatness and that of his race. he would have liked best to send barbara away from ratisbon, as he had despatched her father three weeks before, and not recall her until these decisive days were over; but this was prohibited by his ardent desire for her presence, her clever questions and appreciative listening, and, above all, her singing, which he valued perhaps even more than her beauty. had he confided to barbara the important reasons which compelled him to impose restrictions for a short time upon the demands of his heart, she, who esteemed his grandeur little less than his love, would have cheerfully submitted to what was necessary and right; but truthfulness and frankness were far more characteristic of her nature than of that of the politician who was accustomed to the tricks and evasions of the time of machiavelli. he never lacked credible reasons when he desired to place an intention in a favourable light, and where he wished to keep barbara away from him, during the next few days, such were certainly to be found in each individual instance. suppose the woman he loved did not accept them? so much the worse for her; he was the emperor. as for barbara, with the subtle power of presentiment of a loving heart she felt that his passion was waning, and tortured her mobile intellect to discover the right cause. if the luckless star was connected with it, why had he not blamed her openly? no, no! adrian had already predicted it; his constancy could not be relied upon, and if war was in prospect he forgot everything that was usually dear to his heart, and the appearance of the duke of saxony certainly seemed to indicate an outbreak. many an intimation of the emperor, granvelle, and the almoner seemed to suggest this, and, deeply troubled, she went to rest. during the silent night her worst fears became certainty. she recalled to mind every hour which they had spent alone together. some change had certainly taken place in him of late. during her visit as a page the passion of former days had once more glowed hotly, as the fire on the hearth blazes up brightly before it expires. the alteration had begun with the reproaches for her visit to the suffering wolf. now he was aiming to rid himself of her, though with a considerate hand. and she, what could she do to win back the man who held every fixed resolve as firmly as the rocks of the cliff hold the pine which grows from them? nothing, except to bear patiently whatever he inflicted upon her. this, however, seemed to her so impossible and painful, so humiliating and shocking, that she sprang from her bed and for a long time paced with bare feet the sleeping-room, which was but dimly lighted by the lamp. yet all her thoughts and pondering were futile, and when she lay down again she slept until mass. by daylight she found that she had regarded matters in far too dark a light. true, charles probably no longer loved her as ardently as before, yet she need scarcely fear the worst at present. but the bare thought of having so soon lost the power to bind him to her aroused a storm of feeling in her passionate soul, and when it subsided bitter thoughts followed, and a series of plans which, on closer examination, proved impracticable. the day dragged slowly along. during the ride in the country she was so depressed and downcast that her companions asked what troubled her. the lonely evening seemed endless. a short letter from her father, which informed her that he had not expected too much of himself, and was in good health, she cast aside after reading. during the night the feeling of unhappiness and apprehension increased. but the next morning the sun shone brightly into her windows, and after mass a messenger from the golden cross announced that duke maurice of saxony had arrived, and in the afternoon his majesty wished to see her and hear her sing. this news cheered her wonderfully; but while fran lerch was dressing her she, too, missed the star, and it seemed to barbara that with it she had lost a portion of her charm. in going out, the marquise met her in the corridor, but barbara passed without returning her greeting. when she arrived, the company had assembled in the chapel. the duke of saxony sat between the emperor and granvelle. what a handsome, knightly man this maurice was! a prince from head to foot, young, and yet, while talking with the emperor and granvelle, grave and self-possessed as if he felt himself their peer. and what fire glowed in his bright glance whenever it rested upon her! in the chase and over the wine-cup this brave soldier and subtle statesman was said scarcely to have his equal. many tales of his successes with fair women had been told her. he pleased her, too, in spite of the bold, free manner in which he gazed at her, and which she would not have tolerated in any one else. after she had finished the last song, the duke expressed his appreciation in gay, flattering words, at the same time complimenting her beauty. there had been something remarkably winning in his compliments; but when she pleased her imperial lover, the acknowledgment was very different. then there was no mere praise clad in the form of enthusiastic homage, but in addition always acute remarks. with the recognition blended opinions which revealed the true connoisseur. this maurice was certainly wise and brave, and, moreover, far handsomer than his imperial master; but what illumined charles's prominent brow and brilliant eyes she had never beheld in any one else. to him, to him alone her heart belonged, worthy of esteem as the duke, who was so much his junior, appeared. while taking leave the saxon held her hand in his for a time and, as she permitted it, she met a glance from her lover which warned her to be ware of incautious familiarity with this breaker of hearts. barbara felt as if a sudden brightness had filled her soul, and on her way home the seed which that look had cast into it began to put forth vigorous shoots. the ardent young saxon duke would have been a dangerous rival for any one, even the handsomest and most powerful of men. suppose that she should profit by the wish he showed so plainly, and through jealousy bind the man whom she loved anew and more firmly than ever? she probably admitted to herself that in doing so she would incur a great risk, but it seemed easier to lose her greatest treasure entirely than only to half possess it; and when she had once looked this thought in the face it attracted her, as with the gaze of a basilisk, more and more strongly. the afternoon of the following day, with the marquise, she entered the scene of festivity under the lindens. to punish barbara for not returning her greeting, the gray-haired lady in waiting had at first been inclined to excuse herself on the plea of illness; but the taste for amusement with which her nature was still pervaded, as well as curiosity to see the much-discussed duke maurice, and the desire to watch barbara's conduct, drew her to the place where the festival was held. ratisbon had done her best to receive this guest, whom she especially desired to honour, with all possible magnificence. flags and streamers bearing the colours of the empire, with the burgundian red and gold of the emperor, the silver-crossed keys on a red field of the city of ratisbon, and with the saxon coats of arms, rose amid the leafy tops of the lindens, and floated from tall poles in the sunny may air. the blue and yellow saxon flag, with the black and yellow chevron in the field and a lozenged chaplet from the left corner to the top, was more frequently seen than any other banner. even though this festival was held for duke maurice, no one could fail to notice how much more space was given to his escutcheon than to the emperor's. the entertainment had opened at noon with a tournament and riding at the ring. the duke had participated in the sport a short time, and carried off several rings on his sword while in full career. the emperor had held aloof from this game, in which he had formerly joined gladly and with much skill, but, on the other hand, he had promised to appear at the festival under the lindens, which was to last until night. the council had had a magnificent tent erected for him, duke maurice, and the court, and in order to ornament the interior suitably had allowed the use of the beautiful tapestries in the town hall. these represented familiar incidents from famous love tales: tristan and isolde seeing the face of king mark in the mirror of the spring, frau venus as, surrounded by her court, she receives tannhauser in the horselberg, and similar scenes. other art textiles showed incidents in the lives of forest people--little men and women in striped linen garments, wonderful trees and birds such as no human eye ever beheld--but above the hangings a row of coats of arms again appeared, in which the imperial escutcheon alternated with the saxon. the front of the tent, covered with red and white material, stood open, permitting the guests who did not belong to the court to survey the interior. artistic platters, large dishes, in which dainty sweets and fruits were gracefully heaped and the cathedral of ratisbon and other devices stood, the costly silverware of the city, and many beautifully formed wine flagons attracted the gaze. beside these were dishes of roast meats, fish, and cakes for the illustrious guests. stewards and guards of the council, clad in red and white, with the crossed keys in silver embroidery on the shoulder, offered refreshments. two superb thrones stood ready for the emperor and the duke, easy-chairs for the cardinals, princes, and counts, stools for the barons, knights, and ladies. opposite to the tent stands were erected for the council, the patrician families, and the other ladies and gentlemen whom the city had invited to the festival. in their midst rose a large, richly decorated stage for the emperor's orchestra, which, with his majesty's permission, had been induced to play a few pieces, and by the side of the stands was a towerlike structure, from whose summit the city pipers of ratisbon, joined by those of landshut, were to be heard. a large, round stage, encircled by a fence of young birch logs, had been built for dancing amid the leafy lindens, and stood directly opposite to the imperial tent. near the linden-shaded square at the shooting house were posted the cannon and howitzers, which were to receive the distinguished guests with loud volleys and lend fresh animation to the festival. the lindenplatz belonged to the same suburb of prebrunn in which stood the little castle of the prince abbot of berchtesgaden, which barbara occupied. so, during the short distance which she and the marquise had to traverse in litters, uproar, music, and the thunder of artillery greeted them. this exerted an intoxicating influence upon barbara, who had been so long absent from such scenes. at home she had abandoned her intention of arousing the emperor's jealousy; now her excited nerves urged her to execute it. the advantage she hoped to derive was well worth the risk. but if the bold game failed, and the proud, sensitive monarch should be seriously angry---just then shots crashed again, music and shouts echoed more loudly in her ears. "a blomberg does not fear," and with newly awakened defiance she closed her ears to the warning voice. the festival was commencing. she, too, would be gay for once, and if she was cautious the bold enterprise must succeed. a merry evening awaited her and, if all went well, on the morrow, after a few unpleasant hours, her lover's whole heart would once more be hers. when she reached the scene of festivity it was already thronged with richly attired princes and counts, knights and ladies, citizens of ratisbon, as well as nobles and distinguished townspeople from the neighbouring castles, citadels, and cities. music and a loud medley of shouts and conversation greeted her at her entrance. her heart throbbed quickly, for she did not forget her daring purpose, and a throng of memories of modest but more carefree days rushed upon her. here, when a little girl, she had attended the may festival virgatum-which owed its name to the green rods or twigs with which the school children adorned themselves--and played under yonder lindens with wolf, with the wilder erasmus, and other boys. how delightful it had been!-and when the enlarged band of city pipers struck up a gavotte her feet unconsciously kept time, and she could not help thinking of the last dance in the new scales, the recruiting officer who had guided her so firmly and skilfully in the schwabeln, and through him of her father, of whom she had not thought again since the good news received two evenings before. she still stood at the crowded entrance gazing around her. the interior of the imperial tent could not be seen from here, but she could overlook the stand of the noble families, and there she saw her cousins anne mirl and nandl woller, with martina hiltner beside them. she had refused to receive all three in her little castle at prebrunn; the true reason she alone knew. her excuse had perhaps appeared to the girls trivial and unkind. now her glance met nandl's, and her warmhearted friend beckoned eagerly to her; but her mother drew her arm down, and it was evident that the corpulent lady said something reproving. barbara looked away from the stand, and the question where her place was here suddenly disturbed her. she had received no invitation from the council of the city, and perhaps she would have been refused admittance to the stand. she did not know whether before the emperor's arrival she would be received in the court tent, which cardinal madrucci of trent, in superb scarlet robes, was just approaching, and an oppressive anxiety again subdued the courage which had just resolved on the boldest venture. at that moment baron malfalconnet saw her, and instantly approached. gaily offering one arm to her and the other to the marquise, he escorted both to the tent, whispering meanwhile in barbara's ear, "glowing summer, between spring and winter," and, as soon as he had taken them to the buffet, off he hurried again to offer his arm to the margravine of leuchtenberg, who was followed by two charming daughters, with pretty pages bearing their trains. how the gold, jewels, and shining armour in the tent glittered! how the crimson glowed, the plumes waved, the heavy velvet attracted the eye by rich hues, the light laces by their delicate fineness! how the silk rustled, and one superb piece of fur vied with the other in costliness, the white with the red rose in beauty! barbara involuntarily looked at her sea-green brocade, and felt its heavy texture and the softness of the fur trimming on the overdress, which at home she had called a masterpiece of frau lerch's work. she could be satisfied with her appearance, and the string of pearls on her neck and the bracelet which her lover had sent to her, after her visit in the page's costume, were also costly ornaments. the magnificent star was missing; in its place she wore at the square-cut neck of her dress two beautiful halfblown roses, and her mirror had showed her how becoming they were. she did not need gold or gems. what gave her power to subdue the hearts of men was of higher value. yet, when she mingled among the other dignitaries, she felt like an intruder in this circle. the marquise had left her, and joined those of her own rank. most of the ladies were strangers to barbara, and she was avoided by those whom she knew; but, to make amends, she was soon surrounded by many aristocratic gentlemen, and her mobile nature speedily made her forget what had just depressed her joyous spirit. then the cannon and culverins thundered louder, the blare of trumpets rent the air with deafening shrillness, the ringing of bells in all the steeples of ratisbon, the exulting shouts of the crowd upon the stands and in the whole lindenplatz poured in mighty waves of sound into the tent, where the nobles and aristocratic ladies around barbara now raised their voices also. with a throbbing heart she mingled her cheers with those of the others and, like them, waved her handkerchief and her fan. the man whom she loved was approaching! this crashing and echoing, this wild uproar of enthusiastic shouts and cries, this flutter of flags and waving of handkerchiefs were all in his honour and, stirred to her inmost soul by impetuous enthusiasm and ardent gratitude, her eyes grew dim with tears, and she joined far more loudly and freely in the cheers of the multitude than the aristocrats around her, to whom court etiquette dictated reserve on all occasions, even this one. the loving woman saw nothing save the man who was advancing. how should she have noticed the scornful glances which her unrestrained vivacity elicited? her gaze was fixed solely upon the one sun to which the little stars around her owed their paler or brighter radiance. she scarcely noticed even the handsome young prince at charles's side. yet duke maurice would have been well worthy of her whole attention, for with what a free, proud step he advanced, while his imperial master used his arm as a support! charles also looked magnificent in the castilian court costume, with the chain of the grand master of the golden fleece about his neck; but the young saxon duke was considerably his superior in height, and the silverembroidered, steel-gray suit of spanish cut and the black velvet mantle trimmed with a border of marten fur, were extremely becoming. both saluted the crowd that welcomed them so warmly and loudly, gazing meanwhile at the festal scene, the emperor with haughty, almost indifferent dignity, the duke with less reserve and more eager gestures. barbara knew the sovereign, and when she saw him thrust his lower lip slightly forward she was sure that something vexed him. perhaps she ought not to venture to irritate the lion that day. was his anger roused by the boldness of the city magistrates, who dared to favour the saxon escutcheon and banners so openly? it seemed to her exasperating, punishable insolence. but perhaps in his greatness he did not grudge this distinction to a guest so much his inferior, and it was only the gout again inflicting its pangs upon his poor tortured foot. the way was strewn with leaves and green branches, and the saxon was leading her lord directly over the hard little boughs in the middle of the path. barbara would fain have called to him to look at the ground and not up at the banners and escutcheons bearing his colours, whose number seemed to flatter him. had charles been leaning on her arm, she would have performed the office of guide better. at last the distinguished pair, with the companions who followed them, reached the tent and took their seats upon the thrones. again maurice gazed eagerly around him, but charles vouchsafed the lindenplatz and stands only a few careless glances. he had no time to do more, for the young landgravines of leuchtenber; and several other newcomers at court were presented to him by the count of nassau, and, after greeting the occupants of the tent by a gracious gesture, the monarch addressed a few kind words to each. barbara was obliged to content herself with the others, yet her heart ached secretly that he gave her no word of welcome. then, when the performances began and the chamberlains and major-domo seated the aristocratic ladies and older dignitaries according to their sex and rank, and she was thus placed very far in the rear, she felt it as a grievous injustice. was she no longer the love of the man who reigned over everything here? and since no one could deny this claim, why need she be satisfied with a place beside the insignificant ladies of honour of the princelings who were present? how forsaken and ill-treated she seemed to herself! but there was don luis quijada already making his way to her to bring a greeting from his majesty and escort her to a place from which she could have a better view of what the city had arranged for the entertainment of the distinguished guest. so she was not wholly forgotten by her lover, but with what scanty alms he fed her! what did she care for the exhibition which was about to begin? the minutes dragged on at a snail's pace while the lanterns on the lindens and poles, the torches, and pitch pans were lighted. had not the gentlemen and ladies been so completely separated, it might perhaps have been a little gay. but, as it was, no one of the aristocratic women who surrounded her granted her even one poor word; but the number of glances, open and secret, cast at her became all the greater as one noble dame whispered to another that she was the singer whom his majesty condescended to distinguish in so remarkable a manner. to know that she was thus watched might be endured, as she was aware that she could be satisfied with her appearance, but vanity compelled her to assume an expression and bearing which would not disappoint the gazers, and after the performances began this imposed a wearisome restraint. once only was her solitude in the midst of this great company pleasantly interrupted, for the bishop of arras, without troubling himself about the separation of the sexes, had sought her out and whispered that he had something to ask of her, whose details they would discuss later. on the evening of the day after to-morrow his majesty's most distinguished guests, with their ladies, were to assemble at his house. if she desired to place him under the deepest obligations, she would join them there and adorn the festival with her singing. barbara asked in a low tone whether the emperor would also be present, and the statesman, smiling, answered that court etiquette prohibited such things. yet it was not impossible that, as a special favour, his majesty might listen for a short time in the festal hall, only he feared that the gout might interpose--the evil guest was already giving slight warnings of its approach. then, without waiting for a reply, the young minister went back to his royal master; but his invitation exerted a disturbing influence upon barbara. she would have been more than glad to accept, for the entertainments of the bishop of arras were unequalled in varied attractions, magnificence, and gaiety, and what a satisfaction to her ambition it would be to sing before such an audience, dine at the same table with such ladies and gentlemen! she knew also how heavily this man's favour would weigh in the scales with the emperor, yet to appear at the banquet without her lover's knowledge was utterly impossible, and just now she felt reluctant to ask his permission. what heavy chains loaded the favoured woman who possessed the love of this greatest of sovereigns! however, reflections concerning granvelle's invitation passed away the time until the lighting of the lindenplatz was completed. then the shrill blare of trumpets again rent the air, the city pipers in the towers struck up a gay march, and the entertainment began. the gods of olympus, led by fame and fortune, offered their homage to the emperor. a youth from the school of poets, attired as the goddess of fame, bewailed in well-rhymed verses that for a long time no one had given her so much to do as the emperor charles. his comrade, who, bearing a cornucopia in his arms, represented fortune, assured her companion, in still more bombastic verse, that she should certainly expect far more from her, the goddess of fame, in favour of his majesty. this would continue until her own end and that of all the olympians, because the emperor charles himself was an immortal. he had made them both subject to him. fortune as well as fame must obey his sign. but there was another younger friend of the gods for whom, on account of the shortness of his life, they had been able to do less, but for whom they also held in readiness their best and greatest gifts. he, too, would succeed in rendering them his subjects. while speaking, fortune pointed with the cornucopia and fame with the trumpet to duke maurice, and besought their indulgent lord and master, the emperor charles, to be permitted to show some of their young favourite's possessions, by whose means he, too, would succeed in retaining them in his service. then pallas athene appeared with the university city of leipsic, the latter laden with all sorts of symbols of knowledge. next came plutus, the god of wealth, followed by freiberg miners bearing large specimens of silver ore in buckets and baskets; and, lastly, mars, the god of war, leading by a long chain two camels on which rode captive and fettered turks. during these spectacles, which were followed by other similar ones, barbara had been thinking of her own affairs, and gazed more frequently at her lover and his distinguished guests than at the former. but the next group interested her more because it seemed to honour the emperor's taste for astronomy, of which he had often talked with her. on a long cart, drawn by powerful stallions, appeared a gigantic firmament in the shape of a hemisphere, on whose upper surface the sun, moon, and stars were seen shining in radiant light. the moon passed through all her changes, the sun and planets moved, and from the dome echoed songs and lute-playing, which were intended to represent the music of the spheres. another chorus was heard from a basket of flowers of stupendous size. among the natural and artificial blossoms sat and lay upon leaves and in the calyxes of the flowers child genii, who flung to the emperor beautiful bouquets, and into the laps and at the feet of the ladies in the tent smaller ones and single flowers. barbara, too, did not go with empty hands. the cupid who had thrown his to her was the little maltese hannibal, who sang with other boys as "voices of the flowers," and later was to take part in the great chorus. this friendly remembrance of her young fellow-artist cheered barbara, and when a fight began, which was carried on by a dozen trained champions brought from strasburg expressly for this purpose, she turned her attention to it. at first this dealing blows at one another with blunt weapons offered her little amusement; but when shouts from the tent and the stands cheered the men from the mark, and powerful blows incensed to fury those who were struck, the scene began to enthral her. a handsome, agile youth, to her sincere regret, had just fallen, but swiftly recovered his elasticity, and, springing to his feet, belaboured his opponent, a clumsy giant, so skilfully and vigorously that the bright blood streamed down his ugly face and big body. barbara's cheeks flushed with sympathy. that was right. skill and grace ought everywhere to conquer hideous rude force. if she had been a man she would have found her greatest happiness, as her father did, in battle, in measuring her own strength with another's. now she was obliged to defend herself with other weapons than blunt swords, and when she saw the champions, six against six, again rush upon one another, and one side drive the other back, her vivid imagination transported her into the midst of the victors, and it seemed as if the marquise and the whole throng of arrogant dames in the tent, as well as the ratisbon women on the stands who had insulted her by their haughty airs of virtue, were fleeing from her presence. how repulsive these envious, hypocritical people were! how she hated everything that threatened to estrange her lover's heart! to them also belonged the scoundrel who, she supposed, had betrayed the sale of the star to the emperor. she resolved to confess to charles how she had been led to commit this offence, which was indeed hard to forgive. perhaps all would then be well again, for in this unfortunate action she could recognise the sole wrong which she had ever inflicted upon her lover. she could not help attributing his humiliating manner to it alone, for her love had always remained the same, and only yesterday, after she had sung before the duke of saxony, appenzelder, who never flattered, had assured her that her voice had gained in power, her expression in depth, and she herself felt that it was so. music was still the firmest bond that united her to her lover. so long as her art remained faithful, he could not abandon her. this conviction was transformed into certainty when the final performance began, and the ratisbon choir, under the direction of damian feys, commenced the mighty hymn with which the composer, jean courtois, had greeted the emperor charles in cambray: "venite populi terrai"--"come hither, ye nations of the earth"--this motet for four voices called imperiously to all mankind like a joyous summons. "ave cesar, ave majestas sacra," sounded in solemn, religious tones the greeting to the greatest of monarchs. it seemed to transport the listener to the summit of the cathedral, as the choir now called to the ruler that the earth was full of his renown. the ratisbon singers and the able feys did their best, and this mighty act of homage of all the nations of the earth by no means failed to produce its effect upon him to whom it was addressed. while barbara listened, deeply agitated, she did not avert her eyes from her lover's face, which was brightly illumined by a pyramid of candles on each side of the two thrones. every trace of weariness, indifference, and discomfort had vanished from charles's features. his heart, like hers--she knew it--was now throbbing higher. if he had just been enduring pain, this singing must have driven it away or lessened it, and he had certainly felt gratefully what power dwells in the divine art. this noble composition, barbara realized it, would again draw her near her lover, and the confirmation of this hope was not delayed, for as soon as the last notes of the motet and the storm of applause that followed had died away, the emperor, amid the renewed roar of the artillery, rose and looked around him--surely for her. the good citizens of ratisbon! no matter how much more bunting they had cut up in honour of the saxon duke than of the emperor, how bombastic were the verses composed and repeated in praise of maurice, this paean of homage put all their efforts to shame. it suited only one, lauded a grandeur and dignity which stood firm as indestructible cliffs, and which no one here possessed save the emperor charles. who would have ventured to apply this motet to the brave and clever saxon, high as he, too, towered above most of his peers? what did the nations of the earth know about him? how small was the world still that was full of his renown! this singing had reminded both princes of barbara, and they looked for her. the emperor perceived her first, beckoned kindly to her, and, after conversing with her for a while so graciously that it aroused the envy of the other ladies in the tent, he said eagerly: "not sung amiss for your ratisbon, i should think. but how this superb composition was sung six years ago at catnbray, under the direction of courtois himself!--that, yes, that is one of the things never to be forgotten. thirty-four singers, and what power, what precision, and, moreover, the great charm of novelty! i have certainly been permitted to hear many things----" here he paused; the cardinal of trent was approaching with the bishop of arras. the younger granvelle, with his father, had also been present at the performance of this motet of homage at cambray, and respectfully confirmed his majesty's remark, speaking with special warmth of the fervour and delicacy with which jean courtois had conducted the choir. the cardinal had no wish to detract from the merits of the netherland maestro, but he called the emperor's attention to young orlando di lasso, the leader of the orchestra in the lateran at rome, who, in his opinion, was destined as a composer and conductor to cast into the shade all the musicians of his time. he was born in hennegau. the goddess of music continued to honour the netherlands with her special favour. during this conversation barbara had stepped modestly aside. charles glanced toward her several times to address her again, but when the bishop of arras whispered that, before the commencement of the festival, the cardinal had received despatches from the council and from rome, he motioned to both prelates to follow him, and, paying no further heed to barbara--nay, without even vouchsafing her a farewell wave of the hand-conducted them to the rear of the tent. again the girl's heart ached in her abandonment. duke maurice, too, had vanished. when he saw the emperor address her he had left the tent. dancing had begun, and he was now accepting the invitation of the magistrate ambrosius ammann to inaugurate the young people's pleasure as leader of the polish dance. for a time barbara stood as if spellbound to the spot where her lover had so suddenly turned away from her. she was again experiencing what adrian had predicted--politics made charles forget everything else, even love. how would it be when war actually came? now, after the emperor had showed her that he still deemed her worthy of regard, she felt for the first time thoroughly neglected, and with difficulty restrained her tears. she would have liked to follow charles, and at every peril whisper softly, so that he alone could hear, yet with all the sharpness of her resentment, that it was unchivalrous to leave her standing here like an outcast, and that she demanded to learn why she had forfeited his love. the wild throbbing of her heart impeded her breathing, and, in the indignation of her soul, she longed to escape fresh humiliation and to leave the festival. but again baron malfalconnet appeared as a preserver in the hour of need, and, with the profound submissiveness bordering upon mockery which he always showed her, asked why she had so speedily deprived his majesty of the pleasure of her society. barbara gave way to her wrath and, while vehemently forbidding the unseemly jibe, glanced with a bitter smile toward the emperor, who, in conversation with the two dignitaries, seemed to have forgotten everything around him. "the destiny of the world," observed the baron, "can not be set to dance music. the domain of your obedient admirer, malfalconnet, on the contrary, obeys solely the heart throbs in this loyal breast; and if you, fairest of women, will allow yourself to be satisfied with so small a realm of sovereignty, it is at your disposal, together with these tolerably agile feet, which still wait in vain for the well-merited imperial gout." the sharp refusal which this proposition received amused the baron instead of offending him, and passing into a more conversational tone, he proposed to her to leave this abode of ennui, where even the poor satyrs on the hangings were holding their big hands over their mouths to hide their yawns, and go with him to the dancing floor. barbara laid her hand on his arm and followed him to the pleasure ground under the lindens, where the pretty daughters of the ratisbon noble families had just commenced a dance with the gentlemen belonging to their circle. barbara had gone to school, exchanged kisses, and was a relative or friend of most of these young girls in light gala dresses, adorned with coloured flowers, whose names malfalconnet asked, yet, after an interval of these few weeks, she met them like a stranger. the love which united her to the emperor had raised her far above them. accustomed to give herself up entirely to the gifts which the present offered, she had turned her back on ratisbon and its inhabitants, with whom, during this period of happiness she could easily dispense, as if they were a forgotten world. there was no one in her native city whom she seriously missed or to whom she was strongly drawn. that she, too, offered these people little, and was of small importance, self-love had never permitted her to realize, and therefore she felt an emotion of painful surprise when she perceived the deep gulf which separated her from her fellow-citizens of both sexes. now her old friends and acquaintances showed her plainly enough how little they cared for her withdrawal. pretty elspet zohrer, with whom she had contended for the recruiting officer, pyramus kogel, was standing opposite to her, by her partner's side, in the same row with charming little mietz schiltl, anne mirl woller, her cousin, marg thun, and the others. the zauner, which they were dancing with a solemn dignity that aroused the baron's mirth, afforded them an opportunity to look around them, and they eagerly availed themselves of it; nay, they almost all glanced at barbara, and then, with evident intention, away from her, after elspet zohrer, with a contemptuous elevation of her dainty little snub nose, had ignored her schoolmate's greeting. barbara drew herself up, and the air of unapproachable dignity which she assumed well suited the aristocratic gentleman at her side, whom every one knew as the most brilliant, witty, and extravagant noble at the emperor's court. at the same time she addressed the baron, whom she had hitherto kept at a distance, with unconstrained familiarity, and as the eyes of the mothers also rested upon her, remarks which might have driven the blood to her cheeks were made upon the intimate terms existing between the "emperor's sweetheart" and the profligate and spendthrift malfalconnet. true, barbara could not understand what they were saying, but it was easy enough to perceive in what way they were talking about her. yet what gave these women the right to condemn her? they bore her a grudge because she had distinguished herself by her art, while their little geese were idle at home or, at most, busied themselves in the kitchen, at the spinning wheel, in dancing, and whatever was connected with it while waiting for their future husbands. the favour which the most illustrious of mortals showed her they imputed to her as a crime. how could they know that she was more to the emperor than the artist whose singing enraptured him? the girls yonder--her woller cousins certainly--merely held aloof because their mothers commanded them to do it. only in the case of a few need she fear that jealousy and envy had taken possession of them. yet what did she care for them and their behaviour? she looked over their heads with the air of a queen. but what was the meaning of this? as soon as the dance was over, a pretty young girl, scarcely seventeen years old, with blue forget-me-nots in her fair hair and on her breast, left her partner and came directly toward barbara. her head drooped and she hesitated shyly as she did so, but her modest timidity was so charming that the dissolute courtier at barbara's side felt a throb of sympathy, and gazed down at her like a benevolent fatherly friend as she held out her hand to his companion. he did not think martina hiltner actually beautiful as she stood close before him, but, on the other hand, inexpressibly charming in her modest grace. that it was she who came to barbara so confidingly increased his good opinion of the self-reliant, hot-blooded girl who had won the emperor's love, and therefore he was deeply angered when the latter answered martina's greeting curtly and coldly, and, without vouchsafing her any further words, requested him to summon one of the attendants who were serving refreshments. malfalconnet glanced significantly toward martina, and, while offering barbara a goblet of lemonade, said, "there is candied lemon and other seasoning in it, so it will probably suit your taste, exacting beauty, since you appear to dislike what is pure." "only when poison is mixed with it," she answered quickly, tossing her head arrogantly. then, controlling herself, she added in an explanatory tone: "in this case, baron, your far-famed penetration deceived you. it gave me more pain than you will believe to reject the friendly advances of this lovely child, but her father is the head of the lutheran heresy here, and the almoner----" "then that certainly alters the case," the other interrupted. "where the holy inquisition threatens, i should be capable of denying a friend thrice ere the cock crew. but what a number of charming young faces there are on this lindenplatz! here one can understand why ratisbon, like the french arles, is famed for the beauty of her daughters. it was not easy for you to earn the reputation of the greatest beauty here. you have also gained that of the most cruel one. you make me feel it. but if you wish to cast into oblivion the poisoned cup proffered just now, do me the favour to trust yourself to my guidance in the next dance." "impossible," answered barbara firmly. "if i were really cruel, i would yield to your skill in tempting, and render you the base betrayer of the greatest and noblest of masters." "does not every one who gazes at your beauty or listens to your song become such a monster, at least in thought?" asked the baron gaily. "are you really so inexorable about the dance?" "as this statue," barbara answered with mirthful resolution, pointing to a plaster figure which was intended to represent the goddess flora or the month of may. "but let us stay here a few minutes longer, though only as spectators." barbara expressed this wish because a group of young gentlemen, who had always been among those who sought her most eagerly for a partner at the dances in the new scales, had attracted her attention. they were engaged in an animated discussion, which from their glances and gestures evidently concerned barbara. bernhard trainer, the tall son of an old and wealthy family, who loved martina hiltner, and had been incensed by barbara's treatment of her, seemed to gain his point, and when the city pipers began to play again, all of them--probably a dozen in number--passed by her arm-in-arm in couples, with their eyes studiously fixed upon the opposite side of the dancing floor. barbara could entertain no doubt that this insulting act was intended to wound her. the "little castle," as it was called in prebrunn, owned by bernhard trainer's family, was near the bishop's house which she occupied. therefore the trainers had probably heard more than others about the visits she received. or did the gentlemen consider that she deserved punishment for not treating martina more kindly? whatever might have caused the unseemly act, in barbara's eyes it was a base trick, which filled her with furious rage against the instigators. had she shared the emperor's power, it would have been a delight to her in this hour to repay the malignant insult in the same or far heavier coin. but, on malfalconnet's account, she must submit in silence to what had been inflicted upon her. so, in a muffled tone, she requested the baron to take her back to the tent, but while fulfilling her wish he wondered at the long strides of the capricious young lady at his side, and the mortifying inattention with which she received his questions. meanwhile the emperor had returned to the throne, and maurice of saxony was again standing beside him, while the chamberlain andreas wolff was humbly, inviting the monarch to make the ratisbon young people happy by visiting the scene of the dancing. after a dance of inquiry at the duke, charles assented to this request. but they must pardon him if he remained a shorter time than he himself would desire, as the physician was urging his return home. while the chamberlain was retiring, charles saw barbara leaning on malfalconnet's arm, beckoned to them, and asked her whether she had yielded to her love for dancing. a brief "no, your majesty," assured him of the contrary, and led him to make the remark that whoever exercised a noble art so admirably as she would be wise to refrain from one which could afford nobody any higher pleasure than the peasant and his sweetheart, if they only had sound feet. the counsel sounded harsh, almost warning, and the already irritated girl with difficulty restrained a sharp reply; but the emperor was already rising, that, leaning on quijada's arm, he might seek the dancing ground. meantime the young saxon duke had approached barbara, and expressed his admiration of the successful festival, but she scarcely heard what he said. yet when she turned her face toward him, and his ardent gaze rested yearningly upon her, she felt that the opportunity had now come to carry out her half-forgotten intention of arousing the jealousy of her royal lover. whatever it might cost, she must undertake the risk. summoning all her strength of will, she silenced the bitter resentment which filled her heart, and a sunny glance told duke maurice how much his escort pleased her. malfalconnet had watched every look of the lady on his arm, as well as the duke's, and as they approached the scene of the dance he asked the latter if his highness would condescend to relieve him for a short time of a delightful duty. an important one in the service of his imperial majesty---here the duke's eager assent interrupted him, and the next moment barbara was leaning on the arm of the handsome young prince. she had found in him the tool which she needed, and maurice entered into her design only too readily, for the baron had scarcely retired ere he changed his tone of voice and began an attack upon her heart. he had no need to respect the older rights of his imperial host, for charles had distrustfully concealed from him the bond which united him to the beautiful singer. so, with glowing eloquence, he described to barbara how quickly and powerfully the spell of her beauty and her wonderful art had fired his brain, and besought her to aid him not to commence one of the most important periods of his life with a sore heart and sick with longing; but she allowed him to speak, without interrupting him by a single word. she could not misunderstand what he desired, and many a glance permitted him to interpret it in his favour; but resentment still continued to stir in her soul, growing and deepening as the emperor, seated on the throne erected for him, without noticing her appearance, sometimes listened to the chamberlain, who mentioned the names of the handsomest dancers, sometimes addressed a question to the bishop of arras and the other gentlemen who had followed him. her royal lover deprived her of even the possibility of rousing him by jealousy from the consciousness of the secure possession of her person. besides, the flushed faces of the young men who had so shamelessly insulted her were beaming before her with the joy of the festival. but the expression of their features was already changing. duke maurice had been recognised, and now all who felt entitled to do so approached him, among them her foes, at their head bernhard trainer, who were obliged to bend low before him, and therefore before her also. just then the city pipers struck up a gagliarde, and the music was the air of the dancing-master's song by baldassaro donati, which had roused the emperor's indignation a few days ago. in imagination she again heard his outburst of anger, again saw him rise from his seat in wrath at the innocent "chi la gagliarda vuol imparare." the time of reckoning had come, and he should pay her for the bitterness of that hour! yonder malevolent fellows, who now looked bewildered and uneasy, should be forced to retreat before her and perceive what power she had obtained by her beauty and her art. with fevered blood and panting breath she listened to the gay music of the enlarged band of city pipers, and watched the movements of the couples who had already commenced the gagliarde, and--how was it possible in such a mood?--a passionate desire to dance took possession of her. without heeding the many persons who stood around them, she whispered softly to the duke, "it would be a pleasure to keep time to the music of the gagliarde with you, your highness." an ardent love glance accompanied this invitation, and the bold saxon duke was a man to avail himself of every advantage. he instantly expressed to the ratisbon gentlemen his desire to try the gagliarde himself to such excellent music, and at a sign from the master of ceremonies the dance stopped. several members of the council requested the couples to make way, and maurice took his partner's hand and led her on the stage. the sudden cessation of the music attracted the emperor's attention also. in an instant he perceived what was about to take place, and looked at barbara. her eyes met his, and such a glow of indignation, nay, wrath, so imperious a prohibition flashed from his glance that her flushed cheeks paled, and she strove to withdraw her hand from the duke's. but maurice held it firmly, and at the same moment the city pipers began to play again, and the music streamed forth in full, joyous tones. the wooing notes fell into her defiant soul like sparks on dry brushwood. she could not help dancing, though it should be her death. already she had begun, and with mischievous joy the thought darted through her mind that now charles, too, would perceive what anguish lay in the fear of losing those whom we love. if this grief brought him back to her, she thought, while eagerly following the figures of the dance, she would tend him all her life like a maidservant; if his pride severed the bond between them--that could not be done, because he loved her--she must bear it. doubtless the conviction forced itself upon her superstitious mind that fate would be ready to ruin her by the dance, yet she executed what must bring misfortune upon her; to retreat was no longer possible. these thoughts darted in wild confusion in a few moments through her burning brain, and while maurice swung her around it seemed as if the music reached her through the roar and thunder of breakers. the words "chi la gagliarda vuol imparare" constantly echoed in her ears, mocking, reckless, urging her to retaliation. the dancing-master, bernandelli, whom the council had summoned from milan to the danube, had taught her and the other young people of ratisbon the gagliarde. the sensible teacher, to suit the taste of the german burghers, had divested the gay dance of its recklessness. but he had showed his best pupils with how much more freedom the italians performed the gagliarde, and barbara had not forgotten the lesson. duke maurice moved and guided her with the same unfettered ease that the little maestro had displayed in former days. willing or not, she was obliged to follow his lead, and she did so, carried away by the demands of her excited blood and the pleasure of dancing, so long denied, yet with the grace and perfect ear for time which were her special characteristics. neither the ratisbon citizens nor charles, who had been a good dancer himself, had ever seen the gagliarde danced in this way by either the gentleman or the lady. a better-matched couple could scarcely be imagined than the tall, powerful, chivalrous young prince and the beautiful, superbly formed, golden-haired girl who seemed, as it were, carried away by the music. but charles did not appear to share the pleasure which the sight of this rare couple and their dancing awakened even in the most envious and austere of the ratisbon spectators, for when, in a pause, barbara, with sparkling eyes, glanced first into the duke's face and then, with a merry look of inquiry, at her lover, she found his features no longer distorted by anger, but disgusted, as though he were witnessing an unpleasant spectacle. nevertheless she danced a short time longer without looking at him, until suddenly the remembrance of his reproving glance spoiled her pleasure in this rare enjoyment. she whispered to the duke that she was satisfied. a wave of his hand stopped the music but, ere returning the bow of her distinguished partner, barbara looked for the emperor. her eyes sought him in vain-he had left the turf under the lindens before the close of the dance. the bishop of arras, malfalconnet, and several of the ladies and gentlemen who had left the tent in no small number and gone to the scene of the dancing after learning what was taking place there, had remained after the monarch's departure. most of them joined in the applause which the younger granvelle eagerly commenced when the city pipers lowered their instruments. barbara heard it, and saw that bernhard trainer and other young citizens of ratisbon were following the courtiers' example, but she seemed scarcely to notice the demonstration. the doubt whether charles had merely not waited till the end of the dance, or had already left the festival, made her forget everything else. through the bishop of arras she learned that his majesty had gone home. no one, not even the baron and quijada, had received a message for her. this fresh humiliation pierced her heart like a knife. on every similar occasion hitherto he had sent her a few kind words, or, if don luis was the messenger, tender ones. yet she was obliged to force herself to smile, in order not to betray what was passing in her mind. besides, she could not shake off the duke of saxony like the poor, handsome recruiting officer, pyramus kogel. fortunately, some of the most prominent ratisbon citizens now crowded around maurice to thank him for the honour which he had done the city. she availed herself of the favourable opportunity to beg granvelle, in a low tone, to keep the duke away from her the next morning until his departure at noon, and, if possible, now." "one service for another," replied the statesman. "i will rid you of the most desirable admirer in germany. but, on the day after to-morrow, you will adorn my modest banquet with the singing of the most gifted artist in the world." "gladly, unless his majesty forbids me to do so," replied barbara. a few minutes later she informed her passionate young ducal lover, who wished to call upon her in her own home that very evening, that it would be utterly impossible. with an air of the greatest regret, she said that her little castle was guarded like an endangered citadel; and when the duke proposed a meeting, he was interrupted by the bishop of arras, who desired to speak to him about "important business." in spite of the late hour, the minister, even without the girl's request, would have sought an audience with the duke, and to the ambitious maurice politics and the important plans being prepared for immediate execution were of infinitely greater value than a love adventure, no matter what hours of pleasure it promised to afford. so barbara succeeded in taking leave of the duke without giving him offence. the marquise was waiting for her with ill-repressed indignation. the weary old woman had wanted to return home long before, but the command of the grand chamberlain compelled her to wait for barbara and accompany her the short distance to the house. with an angry glance and a few bitter-sweet words of greeting, the old dame entered the litter. barbara preferred to walk beside hers, for clouds had darkened the sky; it had become oppressively sultry, and she felt as if she would stifle in the close, swaying box. four torch-bearers accompanied the litters. she ordered the knight and the two lackeys whom quijada had commissioned to attend her to remain behind, and also refused the service of the little maltese, who--oh, how gladly!--would have acted as a page and carried her train. as the shipwrecked man on a plank amid the endless surges longs for land, barbara longed to get away, far away from the noise of the festival. yet she dreaded the solitude which she was approaching, for she now perceived how foolishly she had acted, and with what sinful recklessness she had perhaps forfeited the happiness of her life on this luckless evening. but need she idly wait for the doom to which she was condemned? he whose bright eyes could beam on her so radiantly had just wounded her with angry glances, like a foe or a stern judge, and his indignation had not been groundless. what had life to offer her without his love? the wantonly bold venture had been baffled. yet no! all was not yet lost! suppose she should summon courage to steal back to him and on her knees repentantly beseech him to forgive her? but she cherished this desire only a few moments. then the angry, wronged heart rebelled against such humiliation. she had not so shame fully offended the emperor, but the lover, and it was his place to entreat her not to withdraw the love which made him happy. the young girl raised her head with fresh courage. what had happened more than she had expected? because he loved her, he had become jealous, and made her feel his anger. but if she should now persistently withdraw from him, and let him realize how deeply he had offended her, she could not fail to win the game. in spite of all his crowns and kingdoms, he was only a man, and must not she, who in a few brief hours had forced a maurice of saxony to sue yearningly for her love, succeed by the might of her art and her beauty in transforming the wrath of the far older man, charles, into his former passion? if the italian novels with which she was familiar did not lie, not only jealousy, but apparent indifference on the part of the beloved object, fanned the heart of man to burst into fresh flames. it was only necessary to hold her impetuous temper in check, and profit by the jealousy which had now been aroused in charles's mind. hitherto she had always obeyed hasty impulses. why should not she, too, succeed in accomplishing a well-considered plan? with the torturing emotions of failure, mortification, desertion, remorse, and yearning for forgiveness, now blended the hope of yet bringing to a successful conclusion the hazardous enterprise which she had already given up as hopeless, and, while walking on, her brain toiled diligently over plans for the campaign which would compel the great general to return with twofold devotion the love of which he had deprived her. so, in the intense darkness, she followed the light which the torches cast upon the uneven path. at first she had taken up the train of her dress; now it was sweeping the dusty road. what did she care for the magnificent robe if she regained charles's love? of what use would it be if she had lost it, lost it forever? before the litters reached the little castle a gust of wind rose, driving large drops of rain, straw, and withered leaves-barbara could not imagine whence they came in the month of may--into her face. she was obliged to struggle against these harbingers of the coming tempest, and her heart grew lighter during the conflict. she was not born to endure, but to contend. the scene of the festivities emptied rapidly. the duke and granvelle drove back to the city in the minister's carriage. malfalconnet and quijada, in spite of the gathering storm, went home on foot. "what a festival!" said don luis scornfully. "in former days such things presented a more superb spectacle even here. but now! no procession, no scarlet save on the cardinals, no golden cross, no venerable priest's head on the whole pleasure ground, and, moreover, neither consecration nor the pious exhortation to remember heaven, whence comes the joy in which the crowd is rejoicing." "i, too, missed something here," cried the baron eagerly, "and now i learn through you what it is." "will not the heretics themselves gradually feel that they are robbing the pasty of faith of its truffles--what am i saying?--of its salt? may their dry black bread choke them! the only thing that gave the unseasoned meal a certain charm was the capitally performed gagliarde. "which angered his majesty more deeply than you imagine," replied don luis. "the singer's days are probably numbered. it is a pity! she was wonderfully successful in subduing the spirits of melancholy." "the war, on which we can now depend, will do that equally well, if not better," interrupted the baron. "within a short time i, too, have lost all admiration for this fair one. cold-hearted and arrogant. capable of the utmost extremes when her hot blood urges her on. unpopular with the people to whom she belongs, and, in spite of her bold courage, surprisingly afraid of the holy inquisition. here, among the heretics, that gives cause for thought." "enough!" replied don luis. "we will let matters take their course. if the worst comes, i, at least, will not move a finger in her behalf." "nor will i," said malfalconnet, and both walked quietly on. [the end of: volume one of the print edition, volume 6 of the pg edition] etext editor's bookmarks: attain a lofty height from which to look down upon others this ebook was produced by david widger <widger@cecomet.net> [note: there is a short list of bookmarks, or pointers, at the end of the file for those who may wish to sample the author's ideas before making an entire meal of them. d.w.] in the fire of the forge a romance of old nuremberg by georg ebers volume 3. chapter x. one person only besides sir seitz siebenburg had not been deceived--the young knight boemund altrosen, whose love for cordula was genuine, and who, by its unerring instinct, felt that she had invented her tale and for a purpose which did honour to her kindness of heart. so his calm black eyes rested upon the woman he loved with proud delight, while seitz siebenburg twisted his mustache fiercely. not a look or movement of either of the two girls had escaped his notice, and cordula's bold interference in behalf of the reckless swiss knight, who now seemed to have ensnared his future sister-in-law also, increased the envy and jealousy which tortured him until he was forced to exert the utmost selfrestraint in order not to tell the countess to her face that he, at least, was far from being deceived by such a fable. yet he succeeded in controlling himself. but as he forced his lips to silence he gazed with the most open scorn at the bales of merchandise heaped around him. he would show the others that, though the husband of a merchant's daughter, he retained the prejudices of his knightly rank. but no one heeded the disagreeable fellow, who had no intimate friends in the group. most of the company were pressing round heinz schorlin with jests and questions, but bluff count von montfort warmly clasped els's hand, while he apologised for the bold jest of his young daughter who, in spite of her recklessness, meant kindly. nothing could have been more unwelcome to a girl in so unpleasant a situation than this delay. she longed most ardently to get away but, ere she succeeded in escaping from the friendly old noble, two gentlemen hastily entered the brightly lighted entry, at sight of whom her heart seemed to stop beating. the old count, who noticed her blanched face, released her, asking sympathisingly what troubled her, but els did not hear him. when she felt him loose her hand she would fain have fled up the stairs to her mother and sister, to avoid the discussions which must now follow. but she knew into what violent outbursts of sudden anger her usually prudent father could be hurried if there was no one at hand to warn him. there he stood in the doorway, his stern, gloomy expression forming a strange contrast to the merry party who had entered in such a jovial mood. his companion, herr casper eysvogel, had already noticed his future daughter-in-law, recognised her by an amazed shrug of the shoulders which was anything but a friendly greeting, and now eyed the excited revellers with a look as grave and repellent as that of the owner of the house. herr casper's unusual height permitted him to gaze over the heads of the party though, with the exception of count von montfort, they were all tall, nay, remarkably tall men, and the delicacy of his clear-cut, pallid, beardless face had never seemed to els handsomer or more sinister. true, he was the father of her wolff, but the son resembled this cold-hearted man only in his unusual stature, and a chill ran through her veins as she felt the stately old merchant's blue eyes, still keen and glittering, rest upon her. on the day of her betrothal she had rushed into his arms with a warm and grateful heart, and he had kissed her, as custom dictated; but it was done in a strange way--his thin, well-cut lips had barely brushed her brow. then he stepped back and turned to his wife with the low command, "it is your turn now, rosalinde." her future mother-in-law rose quickly, and doubtless intended to embrace her affectionately, but a loud cough from her own mother seemed to check her, for ere she opened her arms to els she turned to her and excused her act by the words, "he wishes it." yet els was finally clasped in frau rosalinde's arms and kissed more warmly than--from what had previously occurred--she had expected. wolff's grandmother, old countess rotterbach, who rarely left the huge gilt armchair in her daughter's sitting-room, had watched the whole scene with a scornful smile; then, thrusting her prominent chin still farther forward, she said to her daughter, loud enough for els to hear, "this into the bargain?" all these things returned to the young girl's memory as she gazed at the cold, statuesque face of her lover's father. it seemed as if he held his tall, noble figure more haughtily erect than usual, and that his plain dark garments were of richer material and more faultless cut than ever; nay, she even fancied that, like the lion, which crouches and strains every muscle ere it springs upon its victim, he was summoning all his pride and sternness to crush her. els was innocent; nay, the motive which had brought her here to defend her sister could not fail to be approved by every well-disposed person, and certainly not last by her father, and it would have suited her truthful nature to contradict openly countess cordula's friendly falsehood had not her dread of fatally exposing eva imposed silence. how her father's cheeks glowed already! with increasing anxiety, she attributed it to the indignation which overpowered him, yet he was only heated by the haste with which, accompanied by his future son-in-law's father, he had rushed here from the frauenthor as fast as his feet would carry him. casper eysvogel had also attended the vorchtel entertainment and accompanied ernst ortlieb into the street to discuss some business matters. he intended to persuade him to advance the capital for which he had just vainly asked herr vorchtel. he stood in most urgent need for the next few days of this great sum, of which his son and business partner must have no knowledge, and at first wolff eysvogel's future father-in-law saw no reason to refuse. but herr ernst was a cautious man, and when his companion imposed the condition that his son should be kept in ignorance of the loan, he was puzzled. he wished to learn why the business partner should not know what must be recorded in the books of the house; but casper eysvogel needed this capital to silence the jew pfefferkorn, from whom he had secretly borrowed large sums to conceal the heavy losses sustained in venice the year before at the gaming table. at first courteously, then with rising anger, he evaded the questions of the business man, and his manner of doing so, with the little contradictions in which the arrogant man, unaccustomed to falsehood, involved himself, showed herr ernst that all was not as it should be. by the time they reached the frauenthor, he had told casper eysvogel positively that he would not fulfil the request until wolff was informed of the matter. then the sorely pressed man perceived that nothing but a frank confession could lead him to his goal. but what an advantage it would give his companion, what a humiliation it would impose upon himself! he could not force his lips to utter it, but resolved to venture a last essay by appealing to the father, instead of to the business man; and therefore, with the haughty, condescending manner natural to him, he asked herr ernst, as if it were his final word, whether he had considered that his refusal of a request, which twenty other men would deem it an honour to fulfil, might give their relations a form very undesirable both to his daughter and himself? "no, i did not suppose that a necessity," replied his companion firmly, and then added in an irritated tone: "but if you need the loan so much that you require for your son a father-in-law who will advance it to you more readily, why, then, herr casper--" here he paused abruptly. a flood of light streamed into the street from the doorway of the ortlieb house. it must be a fire, and with the startled cry, "st. florian aid us! my entry is burning!" he rushed forward with his companion to the endangered house so quickly that the torchbearers, who even in this bright night did good service in the narrow streets, whose lofty houses barred out the moonlight, could scarcely follow. thus herr ernst, far more anxious about his invalid, helpless wife than his imperilled wares, soon reached his own door. his companion crossed the threshold close behind him, sullen, deeply incensed, and determined to order his son to choose between his love and favour and the daughter of this unfriendly man, whom only a sudden accident had prevented from breaking the betrothal. the sight of so many torches blazing here was an exasperating spectacle to ernst ortlieb, who with wise caution and love of order insisted that nothing but lanterns should be used to light his house, which contained inflammable wares of great value; but other things disturbed his composure, already wavering, to an even greater degree. what was his els doing at this hour among these gentlemen, all of whom were strangers? without heeding them or the countess, he was hastening towards her to obtain a solution of this enigma, but the young burgrave eitelfritz von zollern, the knight of altrosen, cordula von montfort, and others barred his way by greeting him and eagerly entreating him to pardon their intrusion at so late an hour. having no alternative, he curtly assented, and was somewhat soothed as he saw old count von montfort, who was still standing beside els, engaged in an animated conversation with her. his daughter's presence was probably due to that of the guests quartered in his home, especially cordula, whom, since she disturbed the peace of his quiet household night after night, he regarded as the personification of restlessness and reckless freedom. he would have preferred to pass her unnoticed, but she had clung to his arm and was trying, with coaxing graciousness, to soften his indignation by gaily relating how she had come here and what had detained her and her companions. but ernst ortlieb, who would usually have been very susceptible to such an advance from a young and aristocratic lady, could not now succeed in smoothing his brow. in his excitement he was not even able to grasp the meaning of the story she related merrily, though with well-feigned contrition. while listening to her with one ear, he was straining the other to catch what sir seitz siebenburg was saying to his father-in-law, casper eysvogel. he gathered from countess cordula's account that she had succeeded in playing some bold prank in connection with els and the swiss knight heinz schorlin, and the words "the mustache" was whispering to his father-inlaw-the direction of his glance betrayed it--also referred to els and the swiss. but the less herr ernst heard of this conversation the more painfully it excited his already perturbed spirit. suddenly his pleasant features, which, on account of the lady at his side, he had hitherto forced to wear a gracious aspect, assumed an expression which filled the reckless countess with grave anxiety, and urged the terrified els, who had not turned her eyes from him, to a hasty resolution. that was her father's look when on the point of an outbreak of fury, and at this hour, surrounded by these people, he must not allow himself to yield to rage; he must maintain a tolerable degree of composure. without heeding the young burgrave eitelfritz or sir boemund altrosen, who were just approaching her, she forced her way nearer to her father, he still maintained his self-control, but already the veins on his brow had swollen and his short figure was rigidly erect. the cause of his excitement--she had noticed it--was some word uttered by seitz siebenburg. her father was the only person who had understood it, but she was not mistaken in the conjecture that it referred to her and the swiss knight, and she believed it to be base and spiteful. in fact, after his father-in-law had told him that ernst ortlieb thought his house was on fire, "the mustache," in reply to herr casper's enquiry how his son's betrothed bride happened to be there, answered scornfully: "els? she did not hasten hither, like the old man, to put the fire out, but because one flame was not enough for her. wolff must know it tomorrow. by day the slender little flame of honourable betrothed love flickers for him; by night it blazes more brightly for yonder swiss scoundrel. and the young lady chooses for the scene of this toying with fire the easily ignited warehouse of her own father!" "i will secure mine against such risks," casper eysvogel answered; then, casting a contemptuous glance at els and a wrathful one at the swiss knight, he added with angry resolution: "it is not yet too late. so long as i am myself no one shall bring peril and disgrace upon my house and my son." then herr ernst had suddenly become aware of the suspicion with which his beautiful, brave, self-sacrificing child was regarded. pale as death, he struggled for composure, and when his eyes met the imploring gaze of the basely defamed girl, he said to himself that he must maintain his selfcontrol in order not to afford the frivolous revellers who surrounded him an entertaining spectacle. wolff was dear to him, but before he would have led his els to the house where the miserable "mustache" lived, and whose head was the coldhearted, gloomy man whose words had just struck him like a poisoned arrow, he, whom the lord had bereft of his beloved, gallant son, would have been ready to deprive himself of his daughters also and take both to the convent. eva longed to go, and els might find there a new and beautiful happiness, like his sister, the abbess kunigunde. in the eysvogel house, never! during these hasty reflections els extended her hand toward him, and the shining gold circlet which her lover had placed on her ring finger glittered in the torchlight. a thought darted through his brain with the speed of lightning, and without hesitation he drew the ring from the hand of his astonished daughter, whispering curtly, yet tenderly, in reply to her anxious cry, "what are you doing?" "trust me, child." then hastily approaching casper eysvogel, he beckoned to him to move a little aside from the group. the other followed, believing that herr ernst would now promise the sum requested, yet firmly resolved, much as he needed it, to refuse. ernst ortlieb, however, made no allusion to business matters, but with a swift gesture handed him the ring which united their two children. then, after a rapid glance around had assured him that no one had followed them, he whispered to herr casper: "tell your wolff that he was, and would have remained, dear to us; but my daughter seems to me too good for his father's house and for kindred who fear that she will bring injury and shame upon them. your wish is fulfilled. i hereby break the betrothal." "and, in so doing, you only anticipate the step which i intended to take with more cogent motives," replied casper eysvogel with cool composure, shrugging his shoulders contemptuously. "the city will judge to-morrow which of the two parties was compelled to sever a bond sacred in the sight of god and men. unfortunately, it is impossible for me to give your daughter the good opinion you cherish of my son." drawing his stately figure to its full height as he spoke, he gazed at his diminutive adversary with a look of haughty contempt and, without vouchsafing a word in farewell, turned his back upon him. repressed fury was seething in ernst ortlieb's breast, and he would scarcely have succeeded in controlling himself longer but for the consolation afforded by the thought that every tie was sundered between his daughter and this cold, arrogant, unjust man and his haughty, evil disposed kindred. but when he again looked for the daughter on whom his hasty act had doubtless inflicted a severe blow, she was no longer visible. directly after he took the ring she had glided silently, unnoticed by most of the company, up the stairs to the second story. cordula von montfort told him this in a low tone. els had made no answer to her questions, but her imploring, tearful eyes pierced the young countess to the heart. her quick ear had caught siebenburg's malicious words and casper eysvogel's harsh response and, with deep pity, she felt how keenly the poor girl must suffer. the happiness of a whole life destroyed without any fault of her own! from their first meeting els had seemed to her incapable of any careless error, and she had merely tried, by her bold, interference, to protect her from the gossip of evil tongues. but heinz schorlin had just approached and whispered that, by his knightly honour, els was a total stranger to him, and he only wished he might find his own dear sister at home as pure and free from any fault. poor child! but the countess knew who had frustrated her intervention in behalf of els. it was sir seitz siebenburg, "the mustache," whose officious homage, at first amusing, had long since become repulsive. her heart shrank from the thought that, merely from vain pleasure in having a throng of admirers, she had given this scoundrel more than one glance of encouragement. the riding whip fairly quivered in her right hand as, after informing ernst ortlieb where els had gone, she warned the gentlemen that it was time to depart, and seitz siebenburg submissively, yet as familiarly as if he had a right to her special favour, held out his hand in farewell. but countess cordula withdrew hers with visible dislike, saying in a tone of chilling repulse: "remember me to your wife, sir knight. tell her to take care that her twin sons resemble their father as little as possible." "then you want to have two ardent admirers the less?" asked siebenburg gaily, supposing that the countess's remark was a jest. but when she did not, as he expected, give these insulting words an interpretation favourable to him, but merely shrugged her shoulders scornfully, he added, glancing fiercely at the swiss knight: "true, you would doubtless be better pleased should the boys grow up to resemble the lucky sir heinz schorlin, for whose sake you proved yourself the inventor of tales more marvellous, if not more credible, than the most skilful travelling minstrel." "perhaps so," replied the countess with contemptuous brevity. "but i should be satisfied if the twins--and this agrees with my first wish should grow up honest men. if you should pay me the honour of a visit during the next few days, sir seitz, i could not receive it." with these words she turned away, paying no further heed to him, though he called her name aloud, as if half frantic. chapter xi. it was after midnight when the servants closed the heavy door of the ortlieb mansion. the late guests had left it, mounted their horses, and ridden away together through the frauenthor into the city. the moon no longer lighted their way. a sultry wind had swept from the southwest masses of grey clouds, which constantly grew denser and darker. heinz schorlin did not notice it, but his follower, biberli, called his attention to the rising storm and entreated him to choose the nearest road to the city. to remain outside the gate in such darkness would be uncomfortable, nay, perhaps not without peril, but the knight merely flung him the peevish answer, "so much the better," and, to biberli's surprise, turned into st. klarengasse, which brought him by no means nearer to his distant lodgings in the bindergasse. it was unfortunate to be warmly devoted to a master who had no fear, whom he was obliged to serve as a messenger of love, and who now probably scarcely knew himself whither this love would lead him. but true and steadfast biberli would really have followed sir heinz, not only in a dangerous nocturnal ramble, but through all the terrors of. hell. so he only glanced down at his long, lean legs, which would be exposed here to the bites of the dogs, with whom he stood on especially bad terms, raised his long robe higher, as the paths over which they must pass were of doubtful cleanliness, and deemed it a good omen when his foot struck against a stout stick, which his patron saint had perhaps thrown in his way as a weapon. its possession was somewhat soothing, it is true, yet he did not regain the pleasant consciousness of peace in which his soul had rejoiced a few short hours before. he knew what to expect from the irritable mood into which recent events appeared to have thrown his master. heinz usually soon forgot any such trivial disappointment, but the difficulty threatening himself and katterle was far worse--nay, might even assume terrible proportions. these alarming thoughts made him sigh so deeply that heinz turned towards him. he would gladly have relieved his own troubled breast in the same way. never before had the soul of this light-hearted child of good fortune served as the arena for so fierce a struggle of contending emotions. he loved eva, and the image of her white, supernaturally beautiful figure, flooded by the moonlight, still stood before him as distinctly as when, after her disappearance, he had resolved to plead his suit for her to her sister; but the usually reckless fellow asked himself, shuddering, what would have happened had he obeyed eva's summons and been found with her, as he had just been surprised with her sister. she was not wholly free from guilt, for her note had really contained an invitation to a meeting; yet she escaped. but his needless impetuosity and her sudden appearance before the house had placed her modest, charming sister, the betrothed bride of the gallant fellow who had fought with him in the marchfield, in danger of being misunderstood and despised. if the finger of scorn were pointed at her, if a stain rested on her fair fame, the austere wolff eysvogel would hardly desire to make her his wife, and then this also would be his fault. his kind, honest heart suffered keenly under these self-accusations, the first which he had ever heeded. hitherto the volatile young fellow, who had often gaily risked his life in battle and his last penny at the gaming table, had never thought of seriously examining his own soul, battling by his own strength of will against some secret longing and shunning its cause. on the contrary, from childhood he had accustomed himself to rely on the protection and aid of the virgin and the saints; and when they passed the image with the ever-burning lamp, where katterle had just sought and found consolation, he implored it not to let his bold intrusion into the home of the maiden he loved bring evil upon her and her sister. he also vowed to the convent and its saint--which, come what might, should also be his--a rich gift whenever the emperor or the gaming table again filled his purse. the thought of being burdened his whole life long with the reproach of having made two such charming, innocent creatures miserable seemed unendurable. he would gladly have given gold and blood to remove it. it was too late that day, but he resolved to go to the confessional on the morrow, for absolution had always relieved and lightened his heart. but how trivial his errors had been! true, the wrong he had now committed was not a mortal sin, and would hardly impose a severe penance upon him, yet it burdened him like the most infamous crime. he did not understand himself, and often wondered why he, reckless heinz, thus made a mountain out of a molehill. yet when, after this reflection, he uttered a sigh of relief, it seemed as if a voice within commanded him not to think lightly of what had passed, for on that evening he had ceased to bestow pleasure on every one, and instead of, as usual, being helpful and agreeable, he had plunged others who had done him no wrong-nay, perhaps a whole household, whose daughter had given him the first love of her young heart-into misery and disgrace. had he considered the consequences of his act, he would still be merry heinz. then he remembered how, when a boy, playing with other lads high up among the mountains just as it was beginning to thaw, he had hurled the work they had finished with so much toil, a snow man, down the slope, rejoicing with his playfellows over its swift descent towards the valley, until they noticed with what frightful speed its bulk increased as it sped over its snowy road, till at last, like a terrible avalanche, it swept away a herdsman's hut--fortunately an empty one. now, also, his heedlessness had set in motion a mass which constantly rolled onward, and how terrible might be the harm it would do! if hartmann, the emperor's son, were only there! he confided everything to him, for he was sure of his silence. both his duty as a knight and his conscience forbade him to relate his experiences and ask counsel from any one else. he was still absorbed in these gloomy thoughts when, just before reaching the walch, he heard biberli's deep sigh. here, behind and beside the frames of the cloth weavers, stood the tents before which the followers and soldiers of the princes and dignitaries who had come to the reichstag were still sitting around the camp fire, carousing and laughing. any interruption was welcome to him, and to biberli it seemed like a deliverance to be permitted to use his poor endangered tongue, for his master had asked what grief oppressed him. "if you desired to know what trouble did not burden my soul i could find a speedier answer," replied biberli piteously. "oh, this night, my lord! what has it not brought upon us and others! look at the black clouds rising in the south. they are like the dark days impending over us poor mortals." then he confided to heinz his fears for himself and katterle. the knight's assurance that he would intercede for him and, if necessary, even appeal to the emperor's favour, somewhat cheered his servitor's drooping spirits, it is true, but by no means restored his composure, and his tone was lugubrious enough as he went on: "and the poor innocent girl in the ortlieb house! your little lady, my lord, broke the bread she must now eat herself, but the other, the older e." "i know," interrupted the knight sorrowfully. "but if the gracious virgin aids us, they will continue to believe in the wager cordula von montfort----" "she! she!" biberli exclaimed, enthusiastically waving his stick aloft. "the lord created her in a good hour. such a heart! such friendly kindness! and to think that she interposed so graciously for you--you, sir heinz, to whom she showed the favour of combing your locks, as if you were already her promised husband, and who afterwards, for another's sake, left her at the ball as if she wore a fern cap and had become invisible. i saw the whole from the musician's gallery. true, the somnambulist is marvellously beautiful." but the knight interrupted him by exclaiming so vehemently: "silence!" that he paused. both walked on without speaking for some distance ere heinz began again: "even though i live to grow old and grey, never shall i behold aught more beautiful than the vision of that white-robed girlish figure on the stairs." true and steadfast biberli sighed faintly. love for eva ortlieb held his master as if in a vise; but a schorlin seemed to him far too good a match for a nuremberg maiden who had grown up among sacks of pepper and chests of goods and, moreover, was a somnambulist. he looked higher for his heinz, and had already found the right match for him. so, turning to him again, he said earnestly: "drive the bewitching vision from your mind, sir heinz. you don't know --but i could tell you some tales about women who walk in their sleep by moonlight." "well?" asked heinz eagerly. "as a maiden," biberli continued impressively, with the pious intention of guarding his master from injury, "the somnambulist merely runs the risk of falling from the roof, or whatever accident may happen to a sleepwalker; but if she enters the estate of holy matrimony, the evil power which has dominion over her sooner or later transforms her at midnight into a troll, which seizes her husband's throat in his sleep and strangles him." "nursery tales!" cried heinz angrily, but biberli answered calmly: "it can make no difference to you what occurs in the case of such possessed women, for henceforward the ortlieb house will be closed against you. and--begging your pardon--it is fortunate. for, my lord, the horse mounted by the first schorlin--the chaplain showed it to you in the picture--came from the ark in which noah saved it with the other animals from the deluge, and the first lady schorlin whom the family chronicles mention was a countess. your ancestresses came from citadels and castles; no schorlin ever yet brought his bride from a tradesman's house. you, the proudest of them all, will scarcely think of making such an error, though it is true--" "ernst ortlieb, spite of his trade, is a man of knightly lineage, to whom the king of arms opens the lists at every tournament!" exclaimed heinz indignantly. "in the combat with blunt weapons," replied biberli contemptuously. "nay, for the jousts and single combat," cried heinz excitedly. "the emperor frederick himself dubbed herr ernst a knight." "you know best," replied biberli modestly. but his coat of arms, like his entry, smells of cloves and pepper. here is another, however, who, like your first ancestress, has a countess's title, and who has a right-my name isn't biberli if your lady mother at home would not be more than happy were i to inform her that the countess von montfort and the darling of her heart, which you are: "the name of montfort and what goes with it," heinz interrupted, "would surely please those at home. but the rest! where could a girl be found who, setting aside cordula's kind heart, would be so great a contrast to my mother in every respect?" "stormy mornings merge into quiet days," said the servant. "everything depends, my lord, upon the heart of which you speak so slightingly--the heart and, even above that, upon the blood. 'help is needed there,' cried the kind heart just now, and then the blood did its 'devoir'. the act followed the desire as the sound follows the blow of the hammer, the thunder the flash of lightning. well for the castle that is ruled by such a mistress! i am only the servant, and respect commands me to curb my tongue; but to-day i had news from home through the provost werner, of lucerne, whom i knew at stansstadt. i meant to tell you of it over the wine at the thirsty troopers, but that accursed note and the misfortune which followed prevented. it will not make either of us more cheerful, but whoever is ordered by the leech to drink gall and wormwood does wisely to swallow the dose at one gulp. do you wish to empty the cup now?" the knight nodded assent, and biberli went on. "home affairs are not going as they ought. though your uncle's hair is already grey, the knightly blood in his veins makes him grasp the sword too quickly. the quarrel about the bridge-toll has broken out again more violently than ever. the townsfolk drove off our cattle as security and, by way of punishment, your uncle seized the goods of their merchants, and they came to blows. true, the schorlin retainers forced back the men from town with bloody heads, but if the feud lasts much longer we cannot hold out, for the others have the money, and since the war cry has sounded less frequently there has been no lack of men at arms who will serve any one who pays. besides, the townsfolk can appeal to the treaty of peace, and if your uncle continues to seize the merchant's wares they will apply to the imperial magistrate, and then: "then," cried heinz eagerly, "then the time will have come for me to leave the court and return home to look after my rights." "a single arm, no matter how strong it may be, can avail nothing there, my lord," biberli protested earnestly. "your uncle ramsweg has scarcely his peer as a leader, but even were it not so you could not bring yourself to send the old man home and put yourself in his place. besides, it would be as unwise as it is unjust. what is lacking at home is money to pay the town what it demands for the use of the bridge, or to increase the number of your men, and therefore: "well?" asked heinz eagerly. "therefore seek the countess von montfort, who favours you above every one else," was the reply; "for with her all you need will be yours without effort. her dowry will suffice to settle twenty such bridge dues, and if it should come to a fray, the brave huntress will ride to the field at your side with helmet and spear. which of the four fs did countess cordula von montfort ever lack?" "the four fs?" asked heinz, listening intently. "the fs," explained the ex-pedagogue, "are the four letters which marriageable knights should consider. they are: family, figure, favour, and fortune. but hold your cap on! what a hot blast this is, as if the storm were coming straight from the jaws of hell. and the dust! where did all these withered leaves come from in the month of june? they are whirling about as if the foliage had already fallen. there are big raindrops driving into my face too b-r-r! you need all four fs. no rain will wash a single one of them away, and i hope it won't efface the least word of my speech either. what, according to human foresight, could be lacking to secure the fairest happiness, if you and the countess--" "love," replied heinz schorlin curtly. "that will come of itself," cried biberli, as if sure of what he was saying, "if the bride is countess cordula." "possibly," answered the knight, "but the heart must not be filled by another's image." here he paused, for in the darkness he had stumbled into the ditch by the road. the whirlwind which preceded the bursting of the storm blew such clouds of dust and everything it contained into their faces that it was difficult to advance. but biberli was glad, for he had not yet found a fitting answer. he struggled silently on beside his master against the wind, until it suddenly subsided, and a violent storm of rain streamed in big warm drops on the thirsty earth and the belated pedestrians. then, spite of heinz's protestations, biberli hurriedly snatched the long robe embroidered with the st from his shoulders and threw it over his master, declaring that his shirt was as safe from injury as his skin, but the rain would ruin the knight's delicate embroidered doublet. then he drew over his head the hood which hung from his coat, and meanwhile must have decided upon an answer, for as soon as they moved on he began again: "you must drive your love for the beautiful sleepwalker out of your mind. try to do so, my dear, dear master, for the sake of your lady mother, your young sister who will soon be old enough to marry, our light-hearted maria, and the good old castle. for your own happiness, your lofty career, which began so gloriously, you must hear me! o master, my dear master, tear from your heart the image of the little nuremberg witch, tempting though it is, i admit. the wound will bleed for a brief time, but after so much mirthful pleasure a fleeting disappointment in love, i should think, would not be too hard to bear if it will be speedily followed by the fairest and most enduring happiness." here a flash of lightning, which illumined the hospital door close before them, and made every surrounding object as bright as day, interrupted the affectionate entreaty of the faithful fellow, and at the same time a tremendous peal of thunder crashed and rattled through the air. master and servant crossed themselves, but heinz exclaimed: "that struck the tower yonder. a little farther to the left, and all doubts and misgivings would have been ended." "you can say that!" exclaimed biberli reproachfully while passing with his master through the gate which had just been opened for an imperial messenger. "and you dare to make such a speech in the midst of this heavenly wrath! for the sake of a pair of lovely eyes you are ready to execrate a life which the saints have so blessed with every gift that thousands and tens of thousands would not give it up from sheer gratitude and joy, even if it were not a blasphemous crime!" again the lightning and thunder drowned his words. biberli's heart trembled, and muttering prayers beseeching protection from the avenging hand above, he walked swiftly onward till they reached the corn market. here they were again stopped, for, notwithstanding the late hour, a throng of people, shouting and wailing, was just pouring from the ledergasse into the square, headed by a night watchman provided with spear, horn, and lantern, a bailiff, torchbearers, and some police officers, who were vainly trying to silence the loudest outcries. again a brilliant flash of lightning pierced the black mass of clouds, and heinz, shuddering, pointed to the crowd and asked, "do you suppose the lightning killed the man whom they are carrying yonder?" "let me see," replied biberli, among whose small vices curiosity was by no means the least. he must have understood news gathering thoroughly, for he soon returned and informed heinz, who had sought shelter from the rain under the broad bow window of a lofty house, that the bearers were just carrying to his parents' home a young man whose thread of life had been suddenly severed by a stab through the breast in a duel. after the witnesses had taken the corpse to the leech otto, in the ledergasse, and the latter said that the youth was dead, they had quickly dispersed, fearing a severe punishment on account of the breach of the peace. the murdered man was ulrich vorchtel, the oldest son of the wealthy berthold vorchel, who collected the imperial taxes. again heinz shuddered. he had seen the unfortunate young man the day before yesterday at the fencing school, and yesterday, full of overflowing mirth, at the dance, and knew that he, too, had fought in the battle of marchfield. his foe must have been master of the art of wielding the sword, for the dead man had been a skilful fencer, and was tall and stalwart in figure. when the servant ended his story heinz stood still in the darkness for a time, silently listening. the bells had begun to ring, the blast of the watchman's horn blended with the wailing notes summoning aid, and in two places--near the thiergartenthor and the frauenthor--the sky was crimsoned by the reflection of a conflagration, probably kindled by some flash of lightning, which flickered over the clouds, alternately rising and falling, sometimes deeper and anon paler in hue. throngs of people, shouting "fire!" pressed from the cross streets into the square. the stillness of the night was over. when heinz again turned to biberli he said in a hollow tone: "if the earth should swallow up nuremberg tonight it would not surprise me. but over yonder--look, biber, the duke of pomerania's quarters in the green shield are still lighted. i'll wager that they are yet at the gaming table. a plague upon it! i would be there, too, if my purse allowed. i feel as if yonder dead man and his coffin were burdening my soul. if it was really good fortune in love that snatched the zecchins from my purse yesterday: "then," cried biberli eagerly, "to-night is the very time, ere countess cordula teaches you to forget what troubles you, to win them back. the gold for the first stake is at your disposal." "from the duke of pomerania, you think?" asked heinz; then, in a quick, resolute tone, added: "no! often as the duke has offered me his purse, i never borrow from my peers when the prospect of repayment looks so uncertain." "gently, my lord," returned biberli, slapping his belt importantly. "here is what you need for the stake as your own property. no miracles have been wrought for us, only i forgot but look! there are the black clouds rolling northward over the castle. that was a frightful storm! but a spendthrift doesn't keep house long-and the thunder has not yet followed that last flash of lightning. there is plenty of uproar without it. it's hard work to hear one's self speak amid all the ringing, trumpeting, yelling, and shrieking. it seems as if they expected to put out the fire with noise. the fathers of the city can attend to that. it doesn't appear to disturb the duke and his guests at their dice; and here, my lord, are fifty florins which, i think, will do for the beginning." biberli handed the knight a little bag containing this sum, and when heinz asked in perplexity where he obtained it, the ex-schoolmaster answered gaily: "they came just in the nick of time. i received them from suss, the jockey, while you were out riding this afternoon." "for the black?" heinz enquired. "certainly, my lord. it's a pity about the splendid stallion. but, as you know, he has the staggers, and when i struck him on the coronet he stood as if rooted to the earth, and the equerry, who was there, said that the disease was proved. so the jew silently submitted, let the horse be led away, and paid back what we gave him. fifty heavy florins! more than enough for a beginning. if i may advise you, count on the two and the five when fixed numbers are to be thrown or hit. why? because you must turn your ill luck in love to advantage: and those from whom it comes are the two beautiful ortlieb es, as nuremberg folk call the ladies els and eva. that makes the two. but e is the fifth letter in the alphabet, so i should choose the five. if biberli did not put things together shrewdly--" "he would be as oversharp as he has often been already," heinz interrupted, but he patted biberli's wet arm as he spoke, and added kindly "yet every day proves that my biberli is a true and steadfast fellow; but where in the wide world did you, a schoolmaster, gain instruction in the art of throwing the dice?" "while we were studying in paris, with my dead foster brother," replied the servant with evident emotion. "but now go up, my lord, before the fire alarm, and i know not what else, makes the people upstairs separate. the iron must be forged during this wild night. only a few drops of rain are falling. you can cross the street dry even without my long garment." while speaking he divested the knight of his robe, and continued eagerly: "now, my lord, from the coffin, or let us say rather the leaden weight, which oppresses your soul, let a bolt be melted that will strike misfortune to the heart. glittering gold has a cheering colour." "stop! stop!" heinz interrupted positively. "no good wishes on the eve of hunting or gaming. "but if i come bounding down the stairs of the green shield with a purse as heavy as my heart is just now--why, biberli, success puts a new face on many things, and yours shall again look at me without anxiety." chapter xii, the thunderclouds had gathered in the blackest masses above the frauenthor and the ortlieb mansion. ere the storm burst the oppressive atmosphere had burdened the hearts within as heavily as it weighed outside upon tree, bush, and all animated creation. in the servants' rooms under the roof the maids slept quietly and dreamlessly; and the men, with their mouths wide open, snored after the labour of the day, unconscious of what was passing outside in the sky or the events within which had destroyed the peace of their master and his family. the only bed unoccupied was the one in the little room next to the stairs leading to the garret, which was occupied by katterle. the swiss, kneeling before it with her face buried in the coarse linen pillow case, alternately sobbed, prayed, and cursed herself and her recklessness. when the gale, which preceded the thunderstorm, blew leaves and straws in through the open window she started violently, imagining that herr ortlieb had come to call her to account and her trial was to begin. the barber's widow, whom she had seen a few days before in the pillory, with a stone around her neck, because she had allowed a cloth weaver's heedless daughter to come to her lodging with a handsome trumpeter who belonged to the city musicians, rose before her mental vision. how the poor thing had trembled and moaned after the executioner's assistant hung the heavy stone around her neck! then, driven frantic by the jeers and insults of the people, the missiles flung by the street boys, and the unbearable burden, she could control herself no longer but, pouring forth a flood of curses, thrust out her tongue at her tormentors. what a spectacle! but ere she, katterle, would submit to such disgrace she would bid farewell to life with all its joys; and even to the countryman to whom her heart clung, and who, spite of his well-proven truth and steadfastness, had brought misery upon her. now the memory of the hateful word which she, too, had called to the barber's widow weighed heavily on her heart. never, never again would she be arrogant to a neighbour who had fallen into misfortune. this vow, and many others, she made to st. clare; then her thoughts wandered to the city moat, to the pegnitz, the fischbach, and all the other streams in and near nuremberg, where it was possible to drown and thus escape the terrible disgrace which threatened her. but in so doing she had doubtless committed a heavy sin; for while recalling the dutzen pond, from whose dark surface she had often gathered white water lilies after passing through the frauenthor into the open fields, and wondering in what part of its reedy shore her design could be most easily executed, a brilliant flash of lightning blazed through her room, and at the same time a peal of thunder shook the old mansion to its foundations. that was meant for her and her wicked thoughts. no! for the sake of escaping disgrace here on earth, she dared not trifle with eternal salvation and the hope of seeing her dead mother in the other world. the remembrance of that dear mother, who had laboured so earnestly to train her in every good path, soothed her. surely she was looking down upon her and knew that she had remained upright and honest, that she had not defrauded her employers of even a pin, and that the little fault which was to be so grievously punished had been committed solely out of love for her countryman, who in his truth and steadfastness meant honestly by her. what biberli requested her to do could be no heavy sin. but the powers above seemed to be of a different opinion; for again a dazzling glare of light illumined the room, and the crash and rattle of the thunder of the angry heavens accompanied it with a deafening din. katterle shrieked aloud; it seemed as if the gates of hell had opened before her, or the destruction of the world had begun. frantic with terror, she sprang back from the window, through which the raindrops were already sprinkling her face. they cooled her flushed cheeks and brought her back to reality. the offence she had just committed was no trivial one. she, whom herr ortlieb, with entire confidence, had placed in the service of the fair young girl whose invalid mother could not care for her, had permitted herself to be induced to persuade eva, who was scarcely beyond childhood, to a rendezvous with a man whom she represented to the inexperienced maiden as a godly, virtuous knight, though she knew from biberli how far the latter surpassed his master in fidelity and steadfastness. "lead us not into temptation!" how often she had repeated the words in the lord's prayer, and now she herself had become the serpent that tempted into sin the innocent child whom duty should have commanded her to guard. no, no! the guilt for which she was threatened with punishment was by no means small, and even if her earthly judge did not call her to account, she would go to confession to-morrow and honestly perform the penance imposed. moved by these thoughts, she gazed across the courtyard to the convent. just at that moment the lightning again flashed, the thunder pealed, and she covered her face with her hands. when she lowered her arms she saw on the roof of the nuns' granary, which adjoined the cow-stable, a slender column of smoke, followed by a narrow tongue of flame, which grew steadily brighter. the lightning had set it on fire. sympathy for the danger and losses of others forced her own grief and anxiety into the background and, without pausing to think, she slipped on her shoes, snatched her shawl from the chest, and ran downstairs, shouting: "the lightning has struck! the convent is burning!" just at that moment the door of the chamber occupied by the two sisters opened, and ernst ortlieb, with tangled hair and pallid cheeks, came toward her. within the room the dim light of the little lamp and the fiery glare of the lightning illumined tear-stained, agitated faces. after heinz schorlin had called to her, and els had hurried to her aid, eva, clad in her long, plain night robe, and barefooted, just as she had risen from her couch, followed the maid to her room. what must the knight, who but yesterday, she knew, had looked up to her as to a saint, think of her now? she felt as if she were disgraced, stained with shame. yet it was through no fault of her own, and overwhelmed by the terrible conviction that mysterious, supernatural powers, against which resistance was hopeless, were playing a cruel game with her, she had felt as if the stormy sea were tossing her in a rudderless boat on its angry surges. unable to seek consolation in prayer, as usual, she had given herself up to dull despair, but only for a short time. els had soon returned, and the firm, quiet manner with which her prudent, helpful friend and sister met her, and even tried to raise her drooping courage by a jest ere she sent her to their mother's sick room, had fallen on her soul like refreshing dew; not because els promised to act for her--on the contrary, what she intended to do roused her to resistance. she had been far too guilty and oppressed to oppose her, yet indignation concerning the sharp words which els had uttered about the knight, and her intention of forbidding him the house, perhaps forever, had stimulated her like strong acid wine. not until after her sister had left her did she become capable of clearly understanding what she had felt during her period of somnambulism. while her mother, thanks to a narcotic, slept soundly, breathing quietly, and in the entry below something, she knew not what, perhaps due to her father's return, was occurring, she sat thinking, pondering, while an impetuous throng of rebellious wishes raised their voices, alternately asking and denying, in her agitated breast. how she had happened to rise from her couch and go out had vanished utterly from her memory, but she was still perfectly conscious of her feelings during the night walk. if hitherto she had yearned to drain heavenly bliss from the chalice of faith, during her wanderings through the house she had longed for nothing save to drink her fill from the cup of earthly joy. ardent kisses, of which she had forbidden herself even to think, she awaited with blissful delight. her timorous heart, held in check by virgin modesty, accustomed to desire nothing save what she could have confessed to her sister and the abbess, seemed as if it had cast off every fetter and boldly resolved to risk the most daring deeds. the somnambulist had longed for the moment when, after heinz schorlin's confession that he loved her, she could throw her arms around his neck with rapturous gratitude. if, while awake, she had desired only to speak to him of her saint and of his duty to overthrow the foes of the church, she had wished while gazing at the moon from the stairs, and in front of the house door, to whisper sweet words of love, listen to his, and in so doing forget herself, the world, and everything which did not belong to him, to her, and their love. and she remembered this longing and yearning in a way very unlike a mere dream. it seemed rather as if, while the moon was attracting her by its magic power, something, which had long slumbered in the depths of her soul, had waked to life; something, from which formerly, ere her heart and mind had been able rightly to understand it, she had shrunk with pious horror, had assumed a tangible form. now she dreaded this newly recognised sinful part of her own nature, which she had imagined a pure vessel that had room only for what was noble, sacred, and innocent. she, too--she knew it now--was only a girl like those on whose desire for love she had looked down with arrogant contempt, no bride of heaven or saint. she had not yet taken the veil, and it was fortunate, for what would have become of her had she not discovered until after her profession this part of her nature, which she thought every true nun, if she possessed it, must discard, like the hair which was shorn from her head, before taking the vow of the order. during this self-inspection it became more and more evident that she was not one person, but two in one--a twofold nature with a single body and two distinct souls; and this conviction caused her as much pain as if the cut which had produced the separation were still bleeding. just at that moment her eyes fell upon the image of the virgin opposite, and the usual impulse to lift her soul in prayer took possession of her even more powerfully than a short time before. with fervent warmth she besought her to release her from this newly awakened nature, which surely could not be pleasing in the sight of heaven, and let her once more become what she was before the unfortunate ramble in the moonlight. but the composure she needed for prayer was soon destroyed, for the image of the knight rose before her again and again, and it seemed as if her own name, which he had called with such ardent longing, once more rang in her ears. whoever thus raises his voice in appeal to another loves that person. heinz schorlin's love was great and sincere and, instead of heeding the inner voice that warned her to return to prayer, she cried defiantly, "i will not!" she could not yet part from the man for whom her heart throbbed with such passionate yearning, who was so brave and godly, so ardently devoted to her. true, it had been peacefully beautiful to dream herself into the bright glory of heaven, yet the stormy rapture she had felt while thinking of him and his love seemed richer and greater. she could not, would not part from him. then she remembered her sister's intention of driving heinz--eva already called the knight by that name in her soliloquy--from her presence, and the thought that she might perhaps wound him so keenly that knightly honour would forbid his return alarmed and incensed her. what right had els to distrust him? a godly knight played no base game with the chosen lady of, his heart, and that, yes, that she certainly was, since she had named her colour to him. nothing should separate them. she needed him for her happiness as much as she did light and air. hitherto she had longed for bliss in another world, but she was so young she probably had a long life before her, and what could existence on earth offer if robbed of the hope of his possession? the newly awakened part of her nature demanded its rights. it would never again allow itself to be forced into the old slumber. if her sister came back and boasted of having driven away the dangerous animal forever, she would show her that she had a different opinion of the knight, and would permit no one to interpose between them. but, while still pondering over this plan, the door of the sick-room was softly opened and her father beckoned to her to follow him. silently leading the way through the dusky corridor, no longer illumined by the moonlight, he entered his daughter's room before her. the lamp, still burning there, revealed the agitated face of her sister who, resting her chin on her hand, sat on the stool beside the spinning wheel. eva's courage, which had blazed up so brightly, instantly fell again. "good heavens! what has happened?" she cried in terror; but her father answered in a hollow tone: "for the sake of your noble sister, to whom i pledged my word, i will force myself to remain calm. but look at her! her poor heart must be like a graveyard, for she was doomed to bury what she held dearest. and who," he continued furiously, so carried away by grief and indignation as to be unmindful of his promise to maintain his composure, "who is to blame for it all, save you and your boundless imprudence?" eva, with uplifted hands, tried to explain how, unconscious of her acts, she had walked in her sleep down the stairs and out of the house, but he imperiously cut her short with: "silence! i know all. my daughter gave a worthless tempter the right to expect the worst from her. you, whom we deemed the ornament of this house, whose purity hitherto was stainless, are to blame if people passing on the street point at it! alas! alas! our honour, our ancient, unsullied name!" groaning aloud, the father struck his brow with his clenched hand; but when els rose and passed her arm around his shoulders to speak words of consolation, eva, who hitherto had vainly struggled for words, could endure no more. "whoever says that of me, my father," she exclaimed with flashing eyes; scarcely able to control her voice, "has opened his ears to slander; and whoever terms heinz schorlin a worthless tempter, is blinded by a delusion, and i call him to his face, even were it my own father, to whom i owe gratitude and respect--" but here she stopped and extended her arms to keep off the deeply angered man, for he had started forward with quivering lips, and--she perceived it clearly--was already under the spell of one of the terrible fits of fury which might lead him to the most unprecedented deeds. els, however, had clung to him and, while holding him back with all her strength, cried out in a tone of keen reproach, "is this the way you keep your promise?" then, lowering her voice, she continued with loving entreaty: "my dear, dear father, can you doubt that she was asleep, unconscious of her acts, when she did what has brought so much misery upon us?" and, interrupting herself, she added eagerly in a tone of the firmest conviction: "no, no, neither shame nor misery has yet touched you, my father, nor the poor child yonder. the suspicion of evil rests on me, and me alone, and if any one here must be wretched it is i." then herr ernst, regaining his self-control, drew back from eva, but the latter, as if fairly frantic, exclaimed: "do you want to drive me out of my senses by your mysterious words and accusations? what, in the name of all the saints, has happened that can plunge my els into misery and shame?" "into misery and shame," repeated her father in a hollow tone, throwing himself into a chair, where he sat motionless, with his face buried in his hands, while els told her sister what had occurred when she went down into the entry to speak to the knight. eva listened to her story, fairly gasping for breath. for one brief moment she cherished the suspicion that cordula had not acted from pure sympathy, but to impose upon heinz schorlin a debt of gratitude which would bind him to her more firmly. yet when she heard that her father had given back his daughter's ring to herr casper eysvogel and broken his child's betrothal she thought of nothing save her sister's grief and, sobbing aloud, threw herself into els's arms. the girls held each other in a close embrace until the first flash of lightning and peal of thunder interrupted the conversation. the father and daughters had been so deeply agitated that they had not heard the storm rising outside, and the outbreak of the tempest surprised them. the peal of thunder, which so swiftly followed the lightning, also startled them and when, soon after, a second one shook the house with its crashing, rattling roar, herr ernst went out to wake the chief packer. but old endres was already keeping watch among the wares entrusted to him and when, after a brief absence, the master of the house returned, he found eva again clasped in her sister's arms, and saw the latter kissing her brow and eyes as she tenderly strove to comfort her. but eva seemed deaf to her soothing words. els, her faithful els, was no longer the betrothed bride of her wolff; her great, beautiful happiness was destroyed forever. on the morrow all nuremberg would learn that herr casper had broken his son's betrothal pledge, because his bride, for the sake of a tempter, sir heinz schorlin, had failed to keep her troth with him. how deeply all this pierced eva's heart! how terrible was the torture of the thought that she was the cause of this frightful misfortune! dissolved in an agony of tears, she entreated the poor girl to forgive her; and els did so willingly, and in a way that touched her father to the very depths of his heart. how good the girls must be who, spite of the sore suffering which one had brought upon the other, were still so loving and loyal! convinced that eva, too, had done nothing worthy of punishment, he went towards them to clasp both in his arms, but ere he could do so the clap of thunder which had frightened katterle so terribly shook the whole room. "st. clare, aid us!" cried eva, crossing herself and falling upon her knees; but els rushed to the window, opened it, and looked down the street. nothing was visible there save a faint red glow on the distant northern horizon, and two mailed soldiers who were riding into the city at a rapid trot. they had been sent from the stables in the marienthurm to keep order in case a fire should break out. several men with hooks and poles followed, also hurrying to the frauenthor. in reply to the question where the fire was and where they going, they answered: "to the fischbach, to help. flames have burst out apparently under the fortress at the thiergartenthor." the long-drawn call for help from the warder's horn, which came at the same moment, proved that the men were right. herr ernst hastened out of the room just as katterle's shriek, "the lightning struck! the convent is burning!" rung from the upper step of the stairs. he had already pronounced her sentence, and the sight of her roused his wrath again so vehemently that, spite of the urgent peril, he shouted to her that, whatever claimed his attention now, she certainly should not escape the most severe punishment for her shameful conduct. then he ordered old endres and two of the menservants to watch the sleeping-room of his invalid wife, that in case anything should happen the helpless woman might be instantly borne to a place of safety. ere he himself went to the scene of the conflagration he hurried back to his daughters. while the girls were giving him his hat and cloak he told them where the fire had broken out, and this caused another detention of the anxious master of the house, for eva seized her shoes and stockings and, kicking her little slippers from her feet, declared that she, too, would not remain absent from the place when her dear nuns were in danger. but her father commanded her to stay with her mother and sister, and went to the door, turning back once more on the threshold to his daughters with the anxious entreaty: "think of your mother!" another peal of thunder drowned the sound of his footsteps hurrying down the stairs. when els, who had watched her father from the window a short time, went back to her sister, eva dried her eyes and cheeks, saying: "perhaps he is right; but whenever my heart urges me to obey any warm impulse, obstacles are put in my way. what a weak nonentity is the daughter of an honourable nuremberg family!" els heard this complaint with astonishment. was this her eva, her "little saint," who yesterday had desired nothing more ardently than with humble obedience, far from the tumult of the world, to become worthy of her heavenly bridegroom, and in the quiet peace of the convent raise her soul to god? what had so changed the girl in these few hours? even the most worldly-minded of her friends would have taken such an impeachment ill. but she had no time now to appeal to the conscience of her misguided sister. love and duty summoned her to her mother's couch. and then! the child had become aware of her love, and was she, els, who had been parted from wolff by her own father, and yet did not mean to give him up, justified in advising her sister to cast aside her love and the hope of future happiness with and through the man to whom she had given her heart? what miracles love wrought! if in a single night it had transformed the devout future bride of heaven into an ardently loving woman, it could accomplish the impossible for her also. while eva was gazing out of the window els returned to her mother. she was still asleep and, without permitting either curiosity or longing to divert her from her duty, els kept her place beside the couch of the beloved invalid, spite of the fire alarm which, though somewhat subdued, was heard in the room. chapter xiii. eva was standing at the open window. the violence of the storm seemed exhausted. the clouds were rolling northward, and the thunder followed the flashes of lightning at longer and longer intervals. peace was restored to the heavens, but the crowd and noise in the city and the street constantly increased. the iron tongues of the alarm bells had never swung so violently, the warder's horn had never made the air quiver with such resonant appeals for aid. nor did the metallic voices above call for help in vain, for while a roseate glow tinged the linden in front of her window and the houses on the opposite side of the street with the hues of dawn, the crowds thronging from the frauenthor to st. klarengasse grew denser and denser. the convent was not visible from her chamber, but the acrid odor of the smoke and the loud voices which reached her ear from that direction proved that the fire was no trivial one. while she was seeking out the spot from which heinz must have looked up to her window, the ortlieb menservants, with some of the montfort retainers, came out of the house with pails and ladders. a female figure glided into the dark street after them. a black shawl concealed her head and the upper part of her figure, and she held a bundle in her hand. it must be katterle. where was she going at this hour? as she was carrying the package, she could scarcely intend to help in putting out the fire. was she stealing away from fear of punishment? poor thing! even the maid was hurled into misfortune through her guilt. it pierced her very heart. but while she called to katterle to stop her, something else, which engrossed her still more, diverted her attention-the loud voice of countess cordula reached her from the street door. with whom was she talking? did the girl, who ventured upon so many things which ill-beseemed a modest maiden, intend to join the men? eva forgot that she, too, would have hurried to the nuns had not her father prevented it. the countess was already standing in the courtyard. after eva had given her a hasty glance she again looked for the maid, but katterle had already vanished in the darkness. this grieved her; she had neglected something which might have saved the girl, to whom she was warmly attached, from some imprudent act. but while attracted by the strange appearance of the countess she had forgotten the other. cordula had probably just left her couch, for she wore only a plain dress tucked up very high, short boots, which she probably used in hunting, and a shawl crossed over her bosom; another was wound round her head in the fashion of the peasant women who brought their goods to market on cold winter days. no farmer's wife could be more simply clad, and yet--eva was forced to admit it--there was something aristocratic in her firm bearing. her companions were her father's chaplain and the equerry who had grown grey in his service. both were trying to dissuade her. the former pointed to a troop of women who were following the chief of police and some city constables, and said warningly: "those are all wanton queans, whom the law of this city compels to lend their aid in putting out fires. how would it beseem your rank to join these who shame their sex---no, no! it would be said to-morrow that the ornament of the house of montfort had----" "that countess cordula had used her hands in extinguishing the fire," she interrupted with gay self-confidence. "is there any disgrace in that? must my noble birth debar me from being numbered among those who help their neighbours so far as lies in their power? if any good is accomplished here, those poor women yonder will make it no worse by their aid. if people here believe that they do, it will give me double pleasure to ennoble it by working with them. putting out the flames will not degrade me, and will make the women better. so, forward! see how the fire is blazing yonder! help is needed there and, thank heaven, i am no weakling. besides, there are women who want assistance and, to women in peril, the most welcome aid is woman's." the old equerry, his eyes glittering with tears, nodded assent, and led the way into the street; but the countess, instead of following instantly, glanced back for the page who was to carry the bandages which she had learned to use among her retainers at home. the agile boy did not delay her long; but while his mistress was looking to see that he had forgotten nothing of importance, he perceived at the window eva, whose beauty had long since fired his young heart, and cast a languishing glance at her. then cordula also noticed her and called a pleasant greeting. eva was on the point of answering in the same tone, when she remembered that cordula had spoken of heinz schorlin in the presence of others as if he were awaiting her in all submission. anger surged hotly in her breast, and she drew back into the room as if she had not heard the salutation. the countess perceived it, and shrugged her shoulders pityingly. eva, dissatisfied with herself, continued to gaze down into the street long after the crowds of people flocking from the city had concealed cordula from her eyes. it seemed as though she would never again succeed in anything that would bring contentment. never had she felt so weak, so ill-tempered, so devoid of self-reliance. yet she could not, as usual, seek consolation with her saint. there was so much here below to divert her attention. the roseate glow on the linden had become a crimson glare, the flickering light on the opposite walls a dazzling illumination. the wind, now blowing from the west, bore from st. klarengasse burning objects which scattered sparks around them--bundles of hay caught by the flames--from the convent barn to the marienthurm opposite, and into the street. besides, the noise above and behind, before and below her, grew louder and louder. the ringing of the bells and the blare of trumpets from the steeples continued, and with this constant ringing, pealing, and crashing from above, mingled the high, clear voices of the choir of nuns in the convent, beseeching in fervent litanies the help of their patron saint. true, the singing was often drowned by the noise from the street, for the fire marshals and quartermasters had been informed in time, and watchmen, soldiers in the pay of the city, men from the hospital, and the abandoned women (required by law to help put out the fires) came in little groups, while bailiffs and servants of the council, barbers (who were obliged to lend their aid, but whose surgical skill could find little employment here), members of the council, priests and monks arrived singly. the street also echoed with the trampling of many steeds, for mounted troopers in coats of mail first dashed by to aid the bailiffs in maintaining order, then the inspector of water works, with his chief subordinate, trotted along to st. klarengasse on the clumsy horses placed at their disposal by the council in case of fire. he was followed by the millers, with brass fire engines. while their well-fed nags drew on sledges, with little noise, through the mire of the streets now softened by the rain, the heavy wooden water barrels needed in the work of extinguishing the flames, there was a loud rattling and clanking as the carts appeared on which the men from the public works building were bringing large and small ladders, hooks and levers, pails and torches, to the scene of the conflagration. besides those who were constrained by the law, many others desired to aid the popular sisters of st. clare and thereby earn a reward from god. a brewer had furnished his powerful stallions to convey to the scene of action, with their tools, the eight masons whose duty it was to use their skill in extinguishing the flames. all sorts of people--men and women-followed, yelling and shrieking, to seek their own profit during the work of rescue. but the bailiffs kept a sharp eye on them, and made way when the commander of the german knights, with several companions on whose black mantles the white cross gleamed, appeared on horseback, and at last old herr berthold vorchtel trotted up on his noble grey, which was known to the whole city. he still had a firm seat in the saddle, but his head was bowed, and whoever knew that only one hour before the corpse of his oldest son, slain in a duel, had been brought home, admired the aged magistrate's strength of will. as first losunger and commander in chief he was the head of the council, and therefore of the city also. duty had commanded him to mount his steed, but how pale and haggard was his shrewd face, usually so animated! just in front of the ortlieb mansion the commander of the german knights rode to his side, and eva saw how warmly he shook him by the hand, as if he desired to show the old man very cordially his deep sympathy in some sore trouble which had assailed him. ever since wolff's betrothal to els had been announced the vorchtels had ceased to be on terms of intimacy with the ortliebs; but old herr berthold, though he himself had probably regarded young eysvogel as his "ursel's" future husband, had always treated eva kindly, and she was not mistaken--tears were glittering on his cheeks in the torchlight. the sight touched the young girl's inmost heart. how eagerly she desired to know what had befallen the vorchtels, and to give the old man some token of sympathy! what could have caused him so much sorrow? only a few hours before her father had returned from a gay entertainment at his house. it could scarcely concern herr berthold's wife, his daughter ursula, or either of his two vigorous sons. perhaps death had only bereft him of some more distant, though beloved relative, yet surely she would have known that, for the ortliebs were connected by marriage both with the old gentleman and his wife. tortured by a presentiment of evil, eva gazed after him, and also watched for heinz schorlin among the people in the street. must not anxiety for her bring him hither, if he learned how near her house the fire was burning? whenever a helmet or knight's baret appeared above the crowd she thought that he was coming. once she believed that she had certainly recognised him, for a tall young man of knightly bearing appeared, not mounted, but on foot, and stopped opposite to the ortlieb house. that must be he! but when he looked up to her window, the reflection of the fire showed that the man who had made her heart beat so quickly was indeed a young and handsome knight, but by no means the person for whom she had mistaken him. it was boemund altrosen, famed as victor in many a tournament, who when a boy had often been at the house of her uncle, herr pfinzing. there was no mistaking his coal-black, waving locks. it was said that the dark-blue sleeve of a woman's robe which he wore on his helmet in the jousts belonged to the countess von montfort. she was his lady, for whom he had won so many victories. heinz schorlin had mentioned him at the ball as his friend, and told her that the gallant knight would vainly strive to win the reckless countess. perhaps he was now looking at the house so intently on cordula's account. or had heinz, his friend, sent him to watch over her while he was possibly detained by the emperor? but, no; he had just gone nearer to the house to question a man in the von montfort livery, and the reply now led him to move on towards the convent. were the tears which filled eva's eyes caused by the smoke that poured from the fire more and more densely into the street, or to disappointment and bitter anguish? the danger which threatened her aunt and her beloved nuns also increased her excitement. true, the sisters themselves seemed to feel safe, for snatches of their singing were still audible amid the ringing of the bells and the blare of the trumpets, but the fire must have been very hard to extinguish. this was proved by the bright glow on the linden tree and the shouts of command which, though unintelligible, rose above every other sound. the street below was becoming less crowded. most of those who had left their beds to render aid had already reached the scene of the conflagration. only a few stragglers still passed through the open gate towards the marienthurm. among them were horsemen, and eva's heart again throbbed more quickly, but only for a short time. heinz schorlin was far taller than the man who had again deceived her, and his way would hardly have been lighted by two mounted torch bearers. soon her rosy lips even parted in a smile, for the sturdy little man on the big, strong-boned vinzgau steed, whom she now saw distinctly, was her dearest relative, her godfather, the kind, shrewd, imperial magistrate, berthold pfinzing, the husband of her father's sister, good aunt christine. if he looked up he would tell her about old herr vorchtel. nor did he ride past his darling's house without a glance at her window, and when he saw eva beckon he ordered the servants to keep back, and stopped behind the chains. after he had briefly greeted his niece and she had enquired what had befallen the vorchtels, he asked anxiously: "then you know nothing yet? and els--has it been kept from her, too?" "what, in the name of all the saints?" asked eva, with increasing alarm. then herr pfinzing, who saw that the door of the house was open, asked her to come down. eva was soon standing beside her godfather's big bay, and while patting the smooth neck of the splendid animal he said hurriedly, in a low tone: "it's fortunate that it happened so. you can break it gradually to your sister, child. to-night summon up your courage, for there are things which even a man--to make the story short, then: tonight wolff eysvogel and young vorchtel quarreled, or rather ulrich irritated your wolff so cruelly that he drew his sword--" "wolff!" shrieked eva, whose hand had already dropped from the horse. "wolff! he is so terribly strong, and if he drew his sword in anger----" "he dealt his foe one powerful thrust," replied the imperial magistrate with an expressive gesture. "the sword pierced him through. but i must go on only this one thing more: ulrich was borne back to his parents as a corpse. and wolff where is he hiding? may the saints long be the only ones who know! a quarrel with such a result under the emperor's eyes, now when peace has just been declared throughout the land! who knows what sentence will be pronounced if the bailiffs show themselves shrewder this time than usual! my office compelled me to set the pack upon him. that is the reason i am so late. tell els as cautiously as possible." he bowed gallantly and trotted on, but eva, as if hunted by enemies, rushed up the staircase, threw herself on her knees before the prie dieu, and sobbed aloud. young vorchtel had undoubtedly heard of the events in the entry, taunted wolff with his betrothed bride's nocturnal interview with a knight, and thus roused the strong man to fury. how terrible it all was! how could she bear it! her thoughtlessness had cost a human life, robbed parents of their son! through her fault her sister's betrothed husband, whom she also loved, was in danger of being placed under ban, perhaps even of being led to the executioner's block! she had no thought of any other motive which might have induced the hotblooded young men to cross swords and, firmly convinced that her luckless letter had drawn heinz schorlin to the house and thus led to all these terrible things, she vainly struggled for composure. sometimes she beheld in imagination the despairing els; sometimes the aged vorchtels, grieving themselves to death; sometimes wolff, outlawed, hiding like a hunted deer in the recesses of the forest; sometimes the maid, fleeing with her little bundle into the darkness of the night; sometimes the burning convent; and at intervals also heinz schorlin, as he knelt before her and raised his clasped hands with passionate entreaty. but she repelled every thought of him as a sin, and even repressed the impulse to look out into the street to seek him. her sole duty now was to pray to her patron saint and the mother of god in behalf of her sister, whom she had hurled into misfortune, and her poor heart bleeding from such deep wounds; but the consolation which usually followed the mere uplifting of her soul in prayer did not come, and it could not be otherwise, for amid her continual looking into her own heart and listening to what went on around her no real devotion was possible. although she constantly made fresh efforts to collect her thoughts, and continued to kneel with clasped hands before the prie dieu, not a hoofbeat, not a single loud voice, escaped her ear. even the alternate deepening and paling of the reflection of the fire, which streamed through the window, attracted her attention, and the ringing of bells and braying of trumpets, which still continued, maintained the agitation in her soul. yet prayer was the sole atonement she could make for the wrong she had done her sister; so she did not cease her endeavours to plead for her to the great helper above, but her efforts were futile. yet even when she heard voices close by the house, among which she distinguished countess cordula's and--if she was not mistaken--her father's, she resisted the impulse to rise from her knees. at last the vain struggle was ended by an interruption from without. after unusually loud voices exclaiming and questioning had reached her from the entry, the door of her chamber suddenly opened and old martsche looked in. the housekeeper was seeking something; but when she found the devout child on her knees she did not wish to disturb her, and contented herself with the evidence of her eyes. but eva stopped her, and learned that she was searching for katterle, who could neither be found in her room, or anywhere else. herr ortlieb had brought countess von montfort home severely burned, and there were all sorts of things for the maid to do. eva clung shuddering to the back of the prie dieu, for the certainty that the unfortunate girl had really fled was like strewing salt on her wounds. when martsche left her and els entered, her excitement had risen to such a pitch that she flung herself before her, as if frantic and, clinging to her knees, heaping self-accusations upon herself with passionate impetuosity, she pleaded, amid her sobs, for pardon and mercy. meanwhile els had been informed by her father of her lover's fatal deed, and as soon as she perceived what tortured her sister she relieved her, with loving words of explanation, from the reproach of being the cause of this misfortune also, for the quarrel had taken place so early that no tidings of the meeting in the entry could have reached young vorchtel when he became involved in the fray with wolff. nor was it solely to soothe eva that she assured her that, deeply as she mourned the death of the hapless ulrich and his parents' grief, wolff's deed could not diminish either her love or her hope of becoming his. eva listened to this statement with sparkling eyes. the love in her sister's heart was as immovably firm as the ancient stones of her native stronghold, which defied every storm, and on which even the destroying, kindling lightning could inflict no injury. this made her doubly dear, and from the depths of dull despair her soul, ever prone to soar upwards, rose swiftly to the heights of hopeful exaltation. when els at last entreated her to go to rest without her, she willingly consented, for her mother was comfortable, and sister renata was watching at her bedside. eva kept her promise, after els, who wanted to see the countess von montfort, had satisfied her concerning the welfare of the nuns and promised to go to rest herself as soon as possible. the stopping of the alarm bells proved that the fire was under control. even its reflection had disappeared, but the eastern sky was beginning to be suffused with a faint tinge of rose colour. when her sister left her eva herself drew the curtains before the window, and sleep soon ended her thoughts and yearnings, her grief and her hope. chapter xiv. countess cordula von montfort's room faced the east and looked out into the garden. the sun of the june morning had just risen, filling it with cheerful light. the invalid's maid had wished to deny els admittance, but the countess called eagerly to her, and then ordered the windows to be opened, because she never felt comfortable unless it was light around her and she could breathe god's pure air. the morning breeze bore the smoke which still rose from the fire in another direction, and thus a refreshing air really entered the room from the garden, for the thunderstorm had refreshed all nature, and flower beds and grass, bush and tree, exhaled a fresh odour of earth and leafage which it was a delight to breathe. the leech otto, to whom the severely wounded ulrich vorchtel had been carried, had just left the countess. the burns on her hands and arms had been bandaged--nay, the old gentleman had cut out the scorched portions of her tresses with his own hand. cordula's energetic action had made the famous surgeon deem her worthy of such care. he had also advised her to seek the nursing of the oldest daughter of her host, whose invalid wife he was attending, and she had gladly assented; for els had attracted her from their first meeting, and she was accustomed to begin the day at sunrise. "how does it happen that you neither weep nor even hang your head after all the sorrow which last night brought you?" asked cordula, as the nuremberg maiden sat down beside her bed. "you are a stranger to the swiss knight, and when we surprised you with him you had not come to a meeting--i know that full well. but if so true and warm a love unites you to young eysvogel, how does it happen that your joyous courage is so little damped by his father's denial and his own unhappy deed, which at this time could scarcely escape punishment? you do not seem frivolous, and yet--" "yet," replied els with a pleasant smile, "many things have made a deeper impression. we are not all alike, countess, yet there is much in your nature which must render it easy for you to understand me; for, countess----" "call me cordula," interrupted the girl in a tone of friendly entreaty. "why should i deny that i am fond of you? and at the risk of making you vain, i will betray----" "well?" asked els eagerly. "that the splendid old leech described you to me exactly as i had imagined you," was the reply. you were one of those, he said, whose mere presence beside a sick-bed was as good as medicine, and so you are; and, dear jungfrau els, this salutary medicine benefits me." "if i am to dispense with the 'countess,'" replied the other, "you must spare me the 'jungfrau.' nursing you will give me all the more pleasure on account of the warm gratitude----" "never mind that," interrupted cordula. "but please look at the bandage, beneath which the flesh burns and aches more than is necessary, and then go on with your explanation." els examined the countess's arm, and then applied a household remedy whose use she had learned from the wife of herr pfinzing, her aunt christine, who was familiar with the healing art. it relieved the pain, and when cordula told her so, els went on with her explanation. "when all these blows fell upon me, they at first seemed, indeed, unprecedented and scarcely possible to endure. when afterwards my wolff's unhappy deed was added, i felt as though i were standing in a dense, dark mist, where each step forwards must lead me into a stifling morass or over a precipice. then i began to reflect upon what had happened, as is my custom; i separated, in my thoughts, the evil menacing in the future from the good, and had scarcely made a little progress in this way when morass and abyss lost their terrors; both, i found, could be left to take care of themselves, since neither wolff nor i lack love and good will, and we possess some degree of prudence and caution." "yes, this thinking and considering!" cried the countess, with a faint sigh. "it succeeds in my case, too, only, unluckily, i usually don't begin until it is too late and the folly has been committed." "then, henceforth, you must reverse the process," answered els cheerily. but directly after she changed her tone, which sounded serious enough as she added: "the sorrow of the poor vorchtels and the grief my betrothed husband must endure, because the dead man was once a dear friend, certainly casts a dark shadow upon many things; but you, who love the chase, must surely be familiar with the misty autumn mornings to which i allude. everything, far and near, is covered by a thick veil, yet one feels that there is bright sunshine behind it. suddenly the mist scatters----" "and mountain and forest, land and water, lie before us in the radiant sunlight!" cried the countess. "how well i know such scenes! and how i should rejoice if a favourable wind would sweep the grey mist away for you right speedily! only--indeed, i am not disposed to look on the dark side--only, perhaps you do not know how resolute the emperor is that the peace of the country shall be maintained. if your lover allowed himself to be carried away----" "this was not the first time," els eagerly interrupted, "that young vorchtel tried to anger him in the presence of others; and he believed that he was justified in bearing a grudge against his former friend--it was considered a settled thing that wolff and his sister ursula were to marry." "until," cordula broke in, "he gazed into your bright eyes." "how could you know that?" asked els in confusion. "because, in love and hate, as well as in reckoning, two and three follow one," laughed the countess. "as for your wolff, in particular, i will gladly believe, with you, that he can succeed in clearing himself before the judges. but with regard to old eysvogel, who looks as though, if he met our dear lord himself, he would think first which of the two was the richer, your future brother-in-law siebenburg, that disagreeable 'mustache,' and his poor wife, who sits at home grieving over her dissolute husband--what gratitude you can expect from such kindred--" "none," replied els sadly. yet a mischievous smile hovered around her lips as, bending over the invalid, she added in a whisper: "but the good i expect from all the evil is, that we and the eysvogels will be separated as if by wall and moat. they will never cross them, but wolff would find the way back to me, though we were parted by an ocean, and mountains towering to the sky divided----" "this confidence, indeed, maintains the courage," said the countess, and with a faint sigh she added: "whatever evil may befall you, many might envy you." "then love has conquered you also?" els began; but cordula answered evasively: "let that pass, dear jungfrau. perhaps love treats me as a mother deals with a froward child, because i asked too much of her. my life has become an endless battue. much game of all kinds is thus driven out to be shot, but the sportsman finds true pleasure only in tracking the single heathcock, the solitary chamois. yet, no," and in her eagerness she flung her bandaged hand so high into the air that she groaned with pain and was forced to keep silence. when able to speak once more, still tortured by severe suffering, she exclaimed angrily: "no, i want neither driving nor stalking. what do i care for the prey? i am a woman, too. i would fain be the poor persecuted game, which the hunter pursues at the risk of breaking his bones and neck. it must be delightful; one would willingly bear the pain of a wound for its sake. i don't mean these pitiful burns, but a deep and deadly one." "you ought to have spared yourself these," said els in a tone of affectionate warning. "consider what you are to your father, and how your suffering pains him! to risk a precious human life for the sake of a stupid brute--" "they call it a sin, i know," cordula burst forth. "and yet i would commit the same tomorrow at the risk of again--oh, you cautious city people, you maidens with snow-white hands! what do you know of a girl like me? you cannot even imagine what my child life was; and yet it is told in a single word--motherless! i was never permitted to see her, to hear her dear, warning voice. she paid with her own life for giving me mine. my father? how kind he is! he meant to supply his dead wife's place by anticipating my every wish. had i desired to feast my eyes on the castle in flames, it would, perhaps, now lie in ashes. so i became what i am. true--and this is something--i grew to be at least one person's joy--his. no, no, at home there are others also, though they dwell in wretched hovels, who would gladly welcome me back. but except these, who will ask about the reckless countess? i myself do not care to linger long when the mirror shows me my image. do you wish to know what this has to do with the fire? much; for otherwise i should scarcely have been wounded. the lightning had struck only the convent barn; the cow stable, when we arrived, was still safe, but the flames soon reached it also. neither the nuns nor the men had thought of driving the cattle out. poor city cattle! in the country the animals have more friendly care. when the work of rescue was at last commenced the cows naturally refused to leave their old home. some prudent person had torn the door off the hinges that they might not stifle. just in front of it stood a pretty red cow with a white star on her face. a calf was by her side, and the mother had already sunk on her knees and was licking it in mortal terror. i pitied the poor thing, and as boemund altrosen, the blackhaired knight who entered your house with the rest after the ride to kadolzburg, had just come there, i told him to save the calf. of course he obeyed my wish, and as it struggled he dragged it out of the stable with his strong arms. the building was already blazing, and the thatched roof threatened to fall in. just at that moment the old cow looked at me so piteously and uttered such a mournful bellow that it touched me to the heart. my eyes rested on the calf, and a voice within whispered that it would be motherless, like me, and miss during the first part of its life god's best gift. but since, as you have heard, i act before i think, i went myself--i no longer know how--into the burning stable. it was hard to breathe in the dense smoke, and fiery sparks scorched my shawl and my hair, but i was conscious of one thought: you must save the helpless little creature's mother! so i called and lured her, as i do at home, where all the cows are fond of me, but it was useless; and just as i perceived this the thatched roof fell in, and i should probably have perished had not altrosen this time carried my own by no means light figure out of the stable instead of the calf." "and you?" asked els eagerly. "i submitted," replied the countess. "no, no," urged els. "your heart throbbed faster with grateful joy, for you saw the desire of your soul fulfilled. a hunter, and one of the noblest of them all, risked his life in the pursuit of your love. o countess cordula, i remember that knight well, and if the dark-blue sleeve which he wore on his helm in the tournament was yours--" "i believe it was," cordula interrupted indifferently. "but, what was of more importance, when i opened my eyes again the cow was standing outside, licking her recovered calf." "and the knight?" asked els. "whoever so heroically risks his life for his lady's wish should be sure of her gratitude." "boemund can rely on that," said cordula positively. "at least, what he did this time for my sake weighs more heavily in the scale than the lances he has broken, his love songs, or the mute language of his longing eyes. those are shafts which do not pierce my heart. how reproachfully you look at me! let him take lessons from his friend heinz schorlin, and he may improve. yes, the swiss knight! he would be the man for me, spite of your involuntary meeting with him and your devout sister, for whom he forgot every one else, and me also, in the dancing hall. o jungfrau els, i have the hunter's eyes, which are keen-sighted! for his sake your beautiful eva, with her saintly gaze, might easily forget to pray. it was not you, but she, who drew him to-night to your house. had this thought entered my head downstairs in the entry i should probably, to be honest, have omitted my little fairy tale and let matters take their course. st. clare ought to have protected her future votary. besides, it pleases the arrogant little lady to show me as plainly as possible, on every occasion, that i am a horror to her. let those who will accept such insults. my christianity does not go far enough to offer her the right cheek too. and shall i tell you something? to spoil her game, i should be capable, in spite of all the life preservers in the world, of binding schorlin to me in good earnest." "do not!" pleaded els, raising her clasped hands beseechingly, and added, as if in explanation: "for the noble boemund altrosen's sake, do not." "to promise that, my darling, is beyond my power," replied cordula coolly, "because i myself do not know what i may do or leave undone tomorrow or the day after. i am like a beech leaf on the stream. let us see where the current will carry it. it is certain," and she looked at her bandaged hands, "that my greatest beauty, my round arms, are disfigured. scars adorn a man; on a woman they are ugly and repulsive. at a dance they can be hidden under tight sleeves, but how hot that would be in the 'schwabeln' and 'rai'! so i had better keep away from these foolish gaieties in future. a calf turns a countess out of a ballroom! what do you think of that? new things often happen." here she was interrupted; the housekeeper called els. sir seitz siebenburg, spite of the untimely hour, had come to speak to her about an important matter. her father had gone to rest and sleep. the knight also enquired sympathisingly about countess von montfort and presented his respects. "of which i can make no use!" cried cordula angrily. "tell him so, martsche." as the housekeeper withdrew she exclaimed impatiently: "how it burns! the heat would be enough to convert the rescued calf into an appetising roast. i wish i could sleep off the pain of my foolish prank! the sunlight is beginning to be troublesome. i cannot bear it; it is blinding. draw the curtain over the window." cordula's own maid hastened to obey the order. els helped the countess turn on her pillows, and as in doing so she touched her arm, the sufferer cried angrily: "who cares what hurts me? not even you!" here she paused. the pleading glance which els had cast at her must have pierced her soft heart, for her bosom suddenly heaved violently and, struggling to repress her sobs, she gasped, "i know you mean kindly, but i am not made of stone or iron either. i want to be alone and go to sleep." she closed her eyes as she spoke and, when els bent to kiss her, tears bedewed her cheeks. soon after els went down into the entry to meet her lover's brother-inlaw. he had refused to enter the empty sitting-room. the countess von montfort's unfriendly dismissal had vexed him sorely, yet it made no lasting impression. other events had forced into the background the bitter attack of cordula, for whom he had never felt any genuine regard. the experiences of the last few hours had converted the carefully bedizened gallant into a coarse fellow, whose outward appearance bore visible tokens of his mental depravity. the faultlessly cut garment was pushed awry on his powerful limbs and soiled on the breast with wine stains. the closely fitting steel chain armour, in which he had ridden out, now hung in large folds upon his powerful frame. the long mustache, which usually curled so arrogantly upwards, now drooped damp and limp over his mouth and chin, and his long reddish hair fell in dishevelled locks around his bloated face. his blue eyes, which usually sparkled so brightly, now looked dull and bleared, and there were white spots on his copper-coloured cheeks. since countess cordula gave him the insulting message to his wife he had undergone more than he usually experienced in the course of years. "an accursed night!" he had exclaimed, in reply to the housekeeper's question concerning the cause of his disordered appearance. els, too, was startled by his looks and the hoarse sound of his voice. nay, she even drew back from him, for his wandering glance made her fear that he was intoxicated. only a short time before, it is true, he had scarcely been able to stand erect, but the terrible news which had assailed him had quickly sobered him. he had come at this unwontedly early hour to enquire whether the ortliebs had heard anything of his brother-in-law wolff. there was not a word of allusion to the broken betrothal. in return for the promise that she would let the eysvogels know as soon as she received any tidings of her lover, which els gave unasked, siebenburg, who had always treated her repellently or indifferently, thanked her so humbly that she was surprised. she did not know how to interpret it; nay, she anticipated nothing good when, with urgent cordiality, he entreated her to forget the unpleasant events of the preceding night, which she must attribute to a sudden fit of anger on herr casper's part. she was far too dear to all the members of the family for them to give her up so easily. what had occurred--she must admit that herself--might have induced even her best friend to misunderstand it. for one brief moment he, too, had been tempted to doubt her innocence. if she knew old eysvogel's terrible situation she would certainly do everything in her power to persuade her father to receive him that morning, or--which would be still better--go to his office. the weal and woe of many persons were at stake, her own above all, since, as wolff's betrothed bride, she belonged to him inseparably. "even without the ring?" interrupted els bitterly; and when siebenburg eagerly lamented that he had not brought it back, she answered proudly "don't trouble yourself, sir seitz! i need this sacred pledge as little as the man who still wears mine. tell your kinsfolk so. i will inform my father of herr casper's wish; he is asleep now. shall i guess aright in believing that the other disasters which have overtaken you are connected with the waggon trains wolff so anxiously expected?" siebenburg, twirling his cap in confusion, assented to her question, adding that he knew nothing except that they were lost and, after repeating his entreaty that she would accomplish a meeting between the two old gentlemen, left her. it would indeed have been painful for him to talk with els, for a messenger had brought tidings that the waggons had been attacked and robbed, and the perpetrators of the deed were his own brothers and their cousin and accomplice absbach. true, seitz himself had had no share in the assault, yet he did not feel wholly blameless for what had occurred, since over the wine and cards he had boasted, in the presence of the robbers, of the costly wares which his father-in-law was expecting, and mentioned the road they would take. seitz siebenburg's conscience was also burdened with something quite different. vexed and irritated by the countess's insulting rebuff, he had gone to the green shield to forget his annoyance at the gaming table in the duke of pomerania's quarters. he had fared ill. there was no lack of fiery rhine wine supplied by the generous host; the sultry atmosphere caused by the rising thunderstorm increased his thirst and, half intoxicated, and incensed by the luck of heinz schorlin, in whom he saw the preferred lover of the lady who had so suddenly withdrawn her favour, he had been led on to stakes of unprecedented amount. at last he risked the lands, castle, and village which he possessed in hersbruck as his wife's dower. moreover, he was aware of having said things which, though he could not recall them to memory in detail, had roused the indignation of many of those who were present. the remarks referred principally to the ortlieb sisters. amid the wild uproar prevailing around the gaming table that night the duel which had cost young vorchtel his life was not mentioned until the last dice had been thrown. in the discussion the victor's betrothed bride had been named, and siebenburg clearly remembered that he had spoken of the breaking of his brother-in-law's engagement, and connected it with accusations which involved him in a quarrel with several of the guests, among them heinz schorlin. similar occurrences were frequent, and he was brave, strong, and skilful enough to cope with any one, even the dreaded swiss; only he was vexed and troubled because he had disputed with the man to whom he had lost his property. besides, his father-in-law had so earnestly enjoined it upon him to put no obstacle in the way of his desire to make peace with the ortliebs that he was obliged to bow his stiff neck to them. the arrogant knight's position was critical, and real inward dignity was unknown to him. yet he would rather have been dragged with his brothers to the executioner's block than humbled himself before the swiss. but he must talk with him for the sake of his twin sons, whose heritage he had so shamefully gambled away. true, the utmost he intended was the confession that, while intoxicated, he had staked his property at the gaming table and said things which he regretted. heinz schorlin's generosity was well known. perhaps he might offer some acceptable arrangement ere the notary conveyed his estate to him. he did not yet feel that he could stoop so low as to receive a gift from this young upstart. if his father-in-law, who supported him, was really ruined, as he had just asserted, he would indeed be plunged into beggary, with his wife, whose stately figure constantly rose before him, with a look of mute reproach, his beautiful twin boys, and his load of debt. the gigantic man felt physically crushed by the terrible blows of fate which had fallen upon him during this last wakeful night. he would fain have gone to the nearest tavern and there left it to the wine to bring forgetfulness. to drink, drink constantly, and in the intervals sleep with his head resting on his arms, seemed the most tempting prospect. but he was obliged to return to the eysvogels. there was too much at stake. besides, he longed to see the twins who resembled him so closely, and of whom countess cordula had said that she hoped they would not be like their father. etext editor's bookmarks: abandoned women (required by law to help put out the fires) the heart must not be filled by another's image this ebook was produced by david widger <widger@cecomet.net> [note: there is a short list of bookmarks, or pointers, at the end of the file for those who may wish to sample the author's ideas before making an entire meal of them. d.w.] an egyptian princess, part 2. by georg ebers volume 6. chapter i. the principal steward of the banquet went forward to meet the guests as they entered, and, assisted by other noble staff-bearers (chamberlains and masters of the ceremonies), led them to their appointed places. when they were all seated, a flourish of trumpets announced that the king was near. as he entered the hall every one rose, and the multitude received him with a thundering shout of "victory to the king!" again and again repeated. the way to his seat was marked by a purple sardian carpet, only to be trodden by himself and kassandane. his blind mother, led by croesus, went first and took her seat at the head of the table, on a throne somewhat higher than the golden chair for cambyses, which stood by it. the king's lawful wives sat on his left hand; nitetis next to him, then atossa, and by her side the pale, plainly-dressed phaedime; next to this last wife of cambyses sat boges, the eunuch. then came the high-priest oropastes, some of the principal magi, the satraps of various provinces (among them the jew belteshazzar), and a number of persians, medes and eunuchs, all holding high offices under the crown. bartja sat at the king's right hand, and after him croesus, hystaspes, gobryas, araspes, and others of the achaemenidae, according to their rank and age. of the concubines, the greater number sat at the foot of the table; some stood opposite to cambyses, and enlivened the banquet by songs and music. a number of eunuchs stood behind them, whose duty it was to see that they did not raise their eyes towards the men. cambyses' first glance was bestowed on nitetis; she sat by him in all the splendor and dignity of a queen, but looking very, very pale in her new purple robes. their eyes met, and cambyses felt that such a look could only come from one who loved him very dearly. but his own love told him that something had troubled her. there was a sad seriousness about her mouth, and a slight cloud, which only he could see, seemed to veil the usually calm, clear and cheerful expression of her eyes. "i will ask her afterwards what has happened," thought he, "but it will not do to let my subjects see how much i love this girl." he kissed his mother, sister, brother and his nearest relations on the forehead--said a short prayer thanking the gods for their mercies and entreating a happy new year for himself and the persians--named the immense sum he intended to present to his countrymen on this day, and then called on the staff bearers to bring the petitioners before his face, who hoped to obtain some reasonable request from the king on this day of grace. as every petitioner had been obliged to lay his request before the principal staff bearer the day before, in order to ascertain whether it was admissible, they all received satisfactory answers. the petitions of the women had been enquired into by the eunuchs in the same manner, and they too were now conducted before their lord and master by boges, kassandane alone remaining seated. the long procession was opened by nitetis and atossa, and the two princesses were immediately followed by phaedime and another beauty. the latter was magnificently dressed and had been paired with phaedime by boges, in order to make the almost poverty-stricken simplicity of the fallen favorite more apparent. intaphernes and otanes looked as annoyed as boges had expected, on seeing their grandchild and daughter so pale, and in such miserable array, in the midst of all this splendor and magnificence. cambyses had had experience of phaedime's former extravagance in matters of dress, and, when he saw her standing before him so plainly dressed and so pale, looked both angry and astonished. his brow darkened, and as she bent low before him, he asked her in an angry and tyrannical tone: "what is the meaning of this beggarly dress at my table, on the day set apart in my honor? have you forgotten, that in our country it is the custom never to appear unadorned before the king? verily, if it were not my birthday, and if i did not owe you some consideration as the daughter of our dearest kinsman, i should order the eunuchs to take you back to the harem, that you might have time to think over your conduct in solitude." these words rendered the mortified woman's task much easier.... she began to weep loud and bitterly, raising her hands and eyes to her angry lord in such a beseeching manner that his anger was changed into compassion, and he raised her from the ground with the question: "have you a petition to ask of me?" "what can i find to wish for, now that the sun of my life has withdrawn his light?" was her faltering answer, hindered by sobs. cambyses shrugged his shoulders, and asked again "is there nothing then that you wish for? i used to be able to dry your tears with presents; ask me for some golden comfort to-day." "phaedime has nothing left to wish for now. for whom can she put on jewels when her king, her husband, withdraws the light of his countenance?" "then i can do nothing for you," exclaimed cambyses, turning away angrily from the kneeling woman. boges had been quite right in advising phaedime to paint herself with white, for underneath the pale color her cheeks were burning with shame and anger. but, in spite of all, she controlled her passionate feelings, made the same deep obeisance to nitetis as to the queen-mother, and allowed her tears to flow fast and freely in sight of all the achaemenidae. otanes and intaphernes could scarcely suppress their indignation at seeing their daughter and grandchild thus humbled, and many an achaemenidae looked on, feeling deep sympathy with the unhappy phaedime and a hidden grudge against the favored, beautiful stranger. the formalities were at last at an end and the feast began. just before the king, in a golden basket, and gracefully bordered round with other fruits, lay a gigantic pomegranate, as large as a child's head. cambyses noticed it now for the first time, examined its enormous size and rare beauty with the eye of a connoisseur, and said: "who grew this wonderful pomegranate?" "thy servant oropastes," answered the chief of the magi, with a low obeisance. "for many years i have studied the art of gardening, and have ventured to lay this, the most beautiful fruit of my labors, at the feet of my king." "i owe you thanks," cried the king: "my friends, this pomegranate will assist me in the choice of a governor at home when we go out to war, for, by mithras, the man who can cherish and foster a little tree so carefully will do greater things than these. what a splendid fruit! surely it's like was never seen before. i thank you again, oropastes, and as the thanks of a king must never consist of empty words alone, i name you at once vicegerent of my entire kingdom, in case of war. for we shall not dream away our time much longer in this idle rest, my friends. a persian gets low-spirited without the joys of war." a murmur of applause ran through the ranks of the achaemenidae and fresh shouts of "victory to the king" resounded through the hall. their anger on account of the humiliation of a woman was quickly forgotten; thoughts of coming battles, undying renown and conqueror's laurels to be won by deeds of arms, and recollections of their former mighty deeds raised the spirits of the revellers. the king himself was more moderate than usual to-day, but he encouraged his guests to drink, enjoying their noisy merriment and overflowing mirth; taking, however, far more pleasure still in the fascinating beauty of the egyptian princess, who sat at his side, paler than usual, and thoroughly exhausted by the exertions of the morning and the unaccustomed weight of the high tiara. he had never felt so happy as on this day. what indeed could he wish for more than he already possessed? had not the gods given him every thing that a man could desire? and, over and above all this, had not they flung into his lap the precious gift of love? his usual inflexibility seemed to have changed into benevolence, and his stern severity into good-nature, as he turned to his brother bartja with the words: "come brother, have you forgotten my promise? don't you know that to-day you are sure of gaining the dearest wish of your heart from me? that's right, drain the goblet, and take courage! but do not ask anything small, for i am in the mood to give largely today. ah, it is a secret! come nearer then. i am really curious to know what the most fortunate youth in my entire kingdom can long for so much, that he blushes like a girl when his wish is spoken of." bartja, whose cheeks were really glowing from agitation, bent his head close to his brother's ear, and whispered shortly the story of his love. sappho's father had helped to defend his native town phocaea against the hosts of cyrus, and this fact the boy cleverly brought forward, speaking of the girl he loved as the daughter of a greek warrior of noble birth. in so saying he spoke the truth, but at the same time he suppressed the facts that this very father had acquired great riches by mercantile undertakings. [the persians were forbidden by law to contract debts, because debtors were necessarily led to say much that was untrue. herod. i. for this reason they held all money transactions m contempt, such occupations being also very uncongenial to their military tastes. they despised commerce and abandoned it to the conquered nations.] he then told his brother how charming, cultivated and loving his sappho was, and was just going to call on croesus for a confirmation of his words, when cambyses interrupted him by kissing his forehead and saying: "you need say no more, brother; do what your heart bids you. i know the power of love too, and i will help you to gain our mother's consent." bartja threw himself at his brother's feet, overcome with gratitude and joy, but cambyses raised him kindly and, looking especially at nitetis and kassandane, exclaimed: "listen, my dear ones, the stem of cyrus is going to blossom afresh, for our brother bartja has resolved to put an end to his single life, so displeasing to the gods. [the persians were commanded by their religion to marry, and the unmarried were held up to ridicule. vendid. iv. fargard. 130. the highest duty of man was to create and promote life, and to have many children was therefore considered praiseworthy. herod. i. 136.] in a few days the young lover will leave us for your country, nitetis, and will bring back another jewel from the shores of the nile to our mountain home." "what is the matter, sister?" cried atossa, before her brother had finished speaking. nitetis had fainted, and atossa was sprinkling her forehead with wine as she lay in her arms. "what was it?" asked the blind kassandane, when nitetis had awakened to consciousness a few moments later. "the joy--the happiness--tachot," faltered nitetis. cambyses, as well as his sister, had sprung to the fainting girl's help. when she had recovered consciousness, he asked her to take some wine to revive her completely, gave her the cup with his own hand, and then went on at the point at which he had left off in his account: "bartja is going to your own country, my wife--to naukratis on the nile--to fetch thence the granddaughter of a certain rhodopis, and daughter of a noble warrior, a native of the brave town of phocaea, as his wife." "what was that?" cried the blind queen-mother. "what is the matter with you?" exclaimed atossa again, in an anxious, almost reproachful tone. "nitetis!" cried croesus admonishingly. but the warning came too late; the cup which her royal lover had given her slipped from her hands and fell ringing on the floor. all eyes were fixed on the king's features in anxious suspense. he had sprung from his seat pale as death; his lips trembled and his fist was clenched. nitetis looked up at her lover imploringly, but he was afraid of meeting those wonderful, fascinating eyes, and turned his head away, saying in a hoarse voice: "take the women back to their apartments, boges. i have seen enough of them--let us begin our drinking-bout--good-night, my mother; take care how you nourish vipers with your heart's blood. sleep well, egyptian, and pray to the gods to give you a more equal power of dissembling your feelings. tomorrow, my friends, we will go out hunting. here, cup-bearer, give me some wine! fill the large goblet, but taste it well--yes, well--for today i am afraid of poison; to-day for the first time. do you hear, egyptian? i am afraid of poison! and every child knows--ah-ha--that all the poison, as well as the medicine comes from egypt." nitetis left the hall,--she hardly knew how,--more staggering than walking. boges accompanied her, telling the bearers to make haste. when they reached the hanging-gardens he gave her up to the care of the eunuch in attendance, and took his leave, not respectfully as usual, but chuckling, rubbing his hands, and speaking in an intimate and confidential tone: "dream about the handsome bartja and his egyptian lady-love, my white nile-kitten! haven't you any message for the beautiful boy, whose love-story frightened you so terribly? think a little. poor boges will very gladly play the go-between; the poor despised boges wishes you so well--the humble boges will be so sorry when he sees the proud palm-tree from sais cut down. boges is a prophet; he foretells you a speedy return home to egypt, or a quiet bed in the black earth in babylon, and the kind boges wishes you a peaceful sleep. farewell, my broken flower, my gay, bright viper, wounded by its own sting, my pretty fir-cone, fallen from the tall pine-tree!" "how dare you speak in this impudent manner?" said the indignant princess. "thank you," answered the wretch, smiling. "i shall complain of your conduct," threatened nitetis. "you are very amiable," answered boges. "go out of my sight," she cried. "i will obey your kind and gentle hints;" he answered softly, as if whispering words of love into her ear. she started back in disgust and fear at these scornful words; she saw how full of terror they were for her, turned her back on him and went quickly into the house, but his voice rang after her: "don't forget my lovely queen, think of me now and then; for everything that happens in the next few days will be a keepsake from the poor despised boges." as soon as she had disappeared he changed his tone, and commanded the sentries in the severest and most tyrannical manner, to keep a strict watch over the hanging-gardens. "certain death," said he, "to whichever of you allows any one but myself to enter these gardens. no one, remember--no one--and least of all messengers from the queen-mother, atossa or any of the great people, may venture to set foot on these steps. if croesus or oropastes should wish to speak to the egyptian princess, refuse them decidedly. do you understand? i repeat it, whoever is begged or bribed into disobedience will not see the light of to-morrow's sun. nobody may enter these gardens without express permission from my own mouth. i think you know me. here, take these gold staters, your work will be heavier now; but remember, i swear by plithras not to spare one of you who is careless or disobedient." the men made a due obeisance and determined to obey; they knew that boges' threats were never meant in joke, and fancied something great must be coming to pass, as the stingy eunuch never spent his staters without good reason. boges was carried back to the banqueting-hall in the same litter, which had brought nitetis away. the king's wives had left, but the concubines were all standing in their appointed place, singing their monotonous songs, though quite unheard by the uproarious men. the drinkers had already long forgotten the fainting woman. the uproar and confusion rose with every fresh wine-cup. they forgot the dignity of the place where they were assembled, and the presence of their mighty ruler. they shouted in their drunken joy; warriors embraced one another with a tenderness only excited by wine, here and there a novice was carried away in the arms of a pair of sturdy attendants, while an old hand at the work would seize a wine-jug instead of a goblet, and drain it at a draught amid the cheers of the lookers-on. the king sat on at the head of the table, pale as death, staring into the wine-cup as if unconscious of what was going on around hint. but at the sight of his brother his fist clenched. he would neither speak to him, nor answer his questions. the longer he sat there gazing into vacancy, the firmer became his conviction that nitetis had deceived him,--that she had pretended to love him while her heart really belonged to bartja. how shamefully they had made sport of him! how deeply rooted must have been the faithlessness of this clever hypocrite, if the mere news that his brother loved some one else could not only destroy all her powers of dissimulation, but actually deprive her of consciousness! when nitetis left the hall, otanes, the father of phaedime had called out: "the egyptian women seem to take great interest in the love-affairs of their brothers-in-law. the persian women are not so generous with their feelings; they keep them for their husbands." cambyses was too proud to let it be seen that he had heard these words; like the ostrich, he feigned deafness and blindness in order not to seem aware of the looks and murmurs of his guests, which all went to prove that he had been deceived. bartja could have had no share in her perfidy; she had loved this handsome youth, and perhaps all the more because she had not been able to hope for a return of her love. if he had had the slightest suspicion of his brother, he would have killed him on the spot. bartja was certainly innocent of any share in the deception and in his brother's misery, but still he was the cause of all; so the old grudge, which had only just been allowed to slumber, woke again; and, as a relapse is always more dangerous than the original illness, the newly-roused anger was more violent than what he had formerly felt. he thought and thought, but he could not devise a fitting punishment for this false woman. her death would not content his vengeance, she must suffer something worse than mere death! should he send her back to egypt, disgraced and shamed? oh, no! she loved her country, and she would be received by her parents with open arms. should he, after she had confessed her guilt, (for he was determined to force a confession from her) shut her up in a solitary dungeon? or should he deliver her over to boges, to be the servant of his concubines? yes! now he had hit upon the right punishment. thus the faithless creature should be disciplined, and the hypocrite, who had dared to make sport of him--the all-powerful--forced to atone for her crimes. then he said to himself: "bartja must not stay here; fire and water have more in common than we two--he always fortunate and happy, and i so miserable. some day or other his descendants will divide my treasures, and wear my crown; but as yet i am king, and i will show that i am." the thought of his proud, powerful position flashed through him like lightning. he woke from his dreams into new life, flung his golden goblet far into the hall, so that the wine flew round like rain, and cried: "we have had enough of this idle talk and useless noise. let us hold a council of war, drunken as we are, and consider what answer we ought to give the massagetae. hystaspes, you are the eldest, give us your opinion first." [herod. i. 134. the persians deliberated and resolved when they were intoxicated, and when they were sober reconsidered their determinations. tacitus tells the same of the old germans. germ, c. 22.] hystaspes, the father of darius, was an old man. he answered: "it seems to me, that the messengers of this wandering tribe have left us no choice. we cannot go to war against desert wastes; but as our host is already under arms and our swords have lain long in their scabbards, war we must have. we only want a few good enemies, and i know no easier work than to make them." at these words the persians broke into loud shouts of delight; but croesus only waited till the noise had ceased to say: "hystaspes, you and i are both old men; but you are a thorough persian and fancy you can only be happy in battle and bloodshed. you are now obliged to lean for support on the staff, which used to be the badge of your rank as commander, and yet you speak like a hot-blooded boy. i agree with you that enemies are easy enough to find, but only fools go out to look for them. the man who tries to make enemies is like a wretch who mutilates his own body. if the enemies are there, let us go out to meet them like wise men who wish to look misfortune boldly in the face; but let us never try to begin an unjust war, hateful to the gods. we will wait until wrong has been done us, and then go to victory or death, conscious that we have right on our side." the old man was interrupted by a low murmur of applause, drowned however quickly by cries of "hystaspes is right! let us look for an enemy!" it was now the turn of the envoy prexaspes to speak, and he answered laughing: "let us follow the advice of both these noble old men. we will do as croesus bids us and not go out to seek an enemy, but at the same time we will follow hystaspes' advice by raising our claims and pronouncing every one our enemy, who does not cheerfully consent to become a member of the kingdom founded by our great father cyrus. for instance, we will ask the indians if they would feel proud to obey your sceptre, cambyses. if they answer no, it is a sign that they do not love us, and whoever does not love us, must be our enemy." "that won't do," cried zopyrus. "we must have war at any price." "i vote for croesus," said gobryas. "and i too," said the noble artabazus. "we are for hystaspes," shouted the warrior araspes, the old intaphernes, and some more of cyrus's old companions-in-arms. "war we must have at any price," roared the general megabyzus, the father of zopyrus, striking the table so sharply with his heavy fist, that the golden vessels rang again, and some goblets even fell; "but not with the massagetac--not with a flying foe." "there must be no war with the massagetae," said the high-priest oropastes. "the gods themselves have avenged cyrus's death upon them." cambyses sat for some moments, quietly and coldly watching the unrestrained enthusiasm of his warriors, and then, rising from his seat, thundered out the words: "silence, and listen to your king!" the words worked like magic on this multitude of drunken men. even those who were most under the influence of wine, listened to their king in a kind of unconscious obedience. he lowered his voice and went on: "i did not ask whether you wished for peace or war--i know that every persian prefers the labor of war to an inglorious idleness--but i wished to know what answer you would give the massagetan warriors. do you consider that the soul of my father--of the man to whom you owe all your greatness--has been sufficiently avenged?" a dull murmur in the affirmative, interrupted by some violent voices in the negative, was the answer. the king then asked a second question: "shall we accept the conditions proposed by their envoys, and grant peace to this nation, already so scourged and desolated by the gods?" to this they all agreed eagerly. "that is what i wished to know," continued cambyses. "to-morrow, when we are sober, we will follow the old custom and reconsider what has been resolved on during our intoxication. drink on, all of you, as long as the night lasts. to-morrow, at the last crow of the sacred bird parodar, i shall expect you to meet me for the chase, at the gate of the temple of bel." so saying, the king left the hall, followed by a thundering "victory to the king!" boges had slipped out quietly before him. in the forecourt he found one of the gardener's boys from the hanging-gardens. "what do you want here?" asked boges. "i have something for the prince bartja." "for bartja? has he asked your master to send him some seeds or slips?" the boy shook his sunburnt head and smiled roguishly. "some one else sent you then?" said boges becoming more attentive. "yes, some one else." "ah! the egyptian has sent a message to her brother-in-law?" "who told you that?" "nitetis spoke to me about it. here, give me what you have; i will give it to bartja at once." "i was not to give it to any one but the prince himself." "give it to me; it will be safer in my hands than in yours." "i dare not." "obey me at once, or--" at this moment the king came up. boges thought a moment, and then called in a loud voice to the whip-bearers on duty at the palace-gate, to take the astonished boy up. "what is the matter here?" asked cambyses. "this fellow," answered the eunuch, "has had the audacity to make his way into the palace with a message from your consort nitetis to bartja." at sight of the king, the boy had fallen on his knees, touching the ground with his forehead. cambyses looked at him and turned deadly pale. then, turning to the eunuch, he asked: "what does the egyptian princess wish from my brother?" "the boy declares that he has orders to give up what has been entrusted to him to no one but bartja." on hearing this the boy looked imploringly up at the king, and held out a little papyrus roll. cambyses snatched it out of his hand, but the next moment stamped furiously on the ground at seeing that the letter was written in greek, which he could not read. he collected himself, however, and, with an awful look, asked the boy who had given him the letter. "the egyptian lady's waiting-woman mandane," he answered; "the magian's daughter." "for my brother bartja?" "she said i was to give the letter to the handsome prince, before the banquet, with a greeting from her mistress nitetis, and i was to tell him . . ." here the king stamped so furiously, that the boy was frightened and could only stammer: "before the banquet the prince was walking with you, so i could not speak to him, and now i am waiting for him here, for mandane promised to give me a piece of gold if i did what she told me cleverly." "and that you have not done," thundered the king, fancying himself shamefully deceived. "no, indeed you have not. here, guards, seize this fellow!" the boy begged and prayed, but all in vain; the whip-bearers seized him quick as thought, and cambyses, who went off at once to his own apartments, was soon out of reach of his whining entreaties for mercy. boges followed his master, rubbing his fat hands, and laughing quietly to himself. the king's attendants began their work of disrobing him, but he told them angrily to leave him at once. as soon as they were gone, he called boges and said in a low voice: "from this time forward the hanging-gardens and the egyptian are under your control. watch her carefully! if a single human being or a message reaches her without my knowledge, your life will be the forfeit." "but if kassandane or atossa should send to her?" "turn the messengers away, and send word that every attempt to see or communicate with nitetis will be regarded by me as a personal offence." "may i ask a favor for myself, o king?" "the time is not well chosen for asking favors." "i feel ill. permit some one else to take charge of the hanging-gardens for to-morrow only." "no!--now leave me." "i am in a burning fever and have lost consciousness three times during the day--if when i am in that state any one should . . ." but who could take your place?" "the lydian captain of the eunuchs, kandaules. he is true as gold, and inflexibly severe. one day of rest would restore me to health. have mercy, o king!" "no one is so badly served as the king himself. kandaules may take your place to-morrow, but give hum the strictest orders, and say that the slightest neglect will put his life in danger.--now depart." "yet one word, my king: to-morrow night the rare blue lily in the hanging-gardens will open. hystaspes, intaphernes, gobyras, croesus and oropastes, the greatest horticulturists at your court, would very much like to see it. may they be allowed to visit the gardens for a few minutes? kandaules shall see that they enter into no communication with the egyptian." "kandaules must keep his eyes open, if he cares for his own life.--go!" boges made a deep obeisance and left the king's apartment. he threw a few gold pieces to the slaves who bore the torches before him. he was so very happy. every thing had succeeded beyond his expectations:--the fate of nitetis was as good as decided, and he held the life of kandaules, his hated colleague, in his own hands. cambyses spent the night in pacing up and down his apartment. by cockcrow he had decided that nitetis should be forced to confess her guilt, and then be sent into the great harem to wait on the concubines. bartja, the destroyer of his happiness, should set off at once for egypt, and on his return become the satrap of some distant provinces. he did not wish to incur the guilt of a brother's murder, but he knew his own temper too well not to fear that in a moment of sudden anger, he might kill one he hated so much, and therefore wished to remove him out of the reach of his passion. two hours after the sun had risen, cambyses was riding on his fiery steed, far in front of a countless train of followers armed with shields, swords, lances, bows and lassos, in pursuit of the game which was to be found in the immense preserves near babylon, and was to be started from its lair by more than a thousand dogs. [the same immense trains of followers of course accompanied the kings on their hunting expeditions, as on their journeys. as the persian nobility were very fond of hunting, their boys were taught this sport at an early age. according to strabo, kings themselves boasted of having been mighty hunters in the inscriptions on their tombs. a relief has been found m the ruins of persepolis, on which the king is strangling a lion with his right arm, but this is supposed to have a historical, not a symbolical meaning. similar representations occur on assyrian monuments. izdubar strangling a lion and fighting with a lion (relief at khorsabad) is admirably copied in delitzsch's edition of g. smith's chaldean genesis. layard discovered some representations of hunting-scenes during his excavations; as, for instance, stags and wild boars among the reeds; and the greeks often mention the immense troops of followers on horse and foot who attended the kings of persia when they went hunting. according to xenophon, cyrop. i. 2. ii. 4. every hunter was obliged to be armed with a bow and arrows, two lances, sword and shield. in firdusi's book of kings we read that the lasso was also a favorite weapon. hawking was well known to the persians more than 900 years ago. book of kabus xviii. p. 495. the boomerang was used in catching birds as well by the persians as by the ancient egyptians and the present savage tribes of new holland.] chapter ii. the hunt was over. waggons full of game, amongst which were several enormous wild boars killed by the king's own hand, were driven home behind the sports men. at the palace-gates the latter dispersed to their several abodes, in order to exchange the simple persian leather huntingcostume for the splendid median court-dress. in the course of the day's sport cambyses had (with difficulty restraining his agitation) given his brother the seemingly kind order to start the next day for egypt in order to fetch sappho and accompany her to persia. at the same time he assigned him the revenues of bactra, rhagae and sinope for the maintenance of his new household, and to his young wife, all the duties levied from her native town phocaea, as pinmoney. bartja thanked his generous brother with undisguised warmth, but cambyses remained cold as ice, uttered a few farewell words, and then, riding off in pursuit of a wild ass, turned his back upon him. on the way home from the chase the prince invited his bosom-friends croesus, darius, zopyrus and gyges to drink a parting-cup with him. croesus promised to join them later, as he had promised to visit the blue lily at the rising of the tistarstar. he had been to the hanging-gardens that morning early to visit nitetis, but had been refused entrance by the guards, and the blue lily seemed now to offer him another chance of seeing and speaking to his beloved pupil. he wished for this very much, as he could not thoroughly understand her behavior the day before, and was uneasy at the strict watch set over her. the young achaemenidae sat cheerfully talking together in the twilight in a shady bower in the royal gardens, cool fountains plashing round them. araspes, a persian of high rank, who had been one of cyrus's friends, had joined them, and did full justice to the prince's excellent wine. "fortunate bartja!" cried the old bachelor, "going out to a golden country to fetch the woman you love; while i, miserable old fellow, am blamed by everybody, and totter to my grave without wife or children to weep for me and pray the gods to be merciful to my poor soul." "why think of such things?" cried zopyrus, flourishing the wine-cup. "there's no woman so perfect that her husband does not, at least once a day, repent that he ever took a wife. be merry, old friend, and remember that it's all your own fault. if you thought a wife would make you happy, why did not you do as i have done? i am only twenty-two years old and have five stately wives and a troop of the most beautiful slaves in my house." araspes smiled bitterly. "and what hinders you from marrying now?" said gyges. "you are a match for many a younger man in appearance, strength, courage and perseverance. you are one of the king's nearest relations too--i tell you, araspes, you might have twenty young and beautiful wives." "look after your own affairs," answered araspes. "in your place, i certainly should not have waited to marry till i was thirty." "an oracle has forbidden my marrying." "folly? how can a sensible man care for what an oracle says? it is only by dreams, that the gods announce the future to men. i should have thought that your own father was example enough of the shameful way in which those lying priests deceive their best friends." "that is a matter which you do not understand, araspes." "and never wish to, boy, for you only believe in oracles because you don't understand them, and in your short-sightedness call everything that is beyond your comprehension a miracle. and you place more confidence in anything that seems to you miraculous, than in the plain simple truth that lies before your face. an oracle deceived your father and plunged him into ruin, but the oracle is miraculous, and so you too, in perfect confidence, allow it to rob you of happiness!" "that is blasphemy, araspes. are the gods to be blamed because we misunderstand their words?" "certainly: for if they wished to benefit us they would give us, with the words, the necessary penetration for discovering their meaning. what good does a beautiful speech do me, if it is in a foreign language that i do not understand?" "leave off this useless discussion," said darius, "and tell us instead, araspes, how it is that, though you congratulate every man on becoming a bridegroom, you yourself have so long submitted to be blamed by the priests, slighted at all entertainments and festivals, and abused by the women, only because you choose to live and die a bachelor?" araspes looked down thoughtfully, then shook himself, took a long draught from the wine-cup, and said, "i have my reasons, friends, but i cannot tell them now." "tell them, tell them," was the answer. "no, children, i cannot, indeed i cannot. this cup i drain to the health of the charming sappho, and this second to your good fortune, my favorite, darius." "thanks, araspes!" exclaimed bartja, joyfully raising his goblet to his lips. "you mean well, i know," muttered darius, looking down gloomily. "what's this, you son of hystaspes?" cried the old man, looking more narrowly at the serious face of the youth. "dark looks like these don't sit well on a betrothed lover, who is to drink to the health of his dearest one. is not gobryas' little daughter the noblest of all the young persian girls after atossa? and isn't she beautiful?" "artystone has every talent and quality that a daughter of the achaemenidae ought to possess," was darius's answer, but his brow did not clear as he said the words. "well, if you want more than that, you must be very hard to please." darius raised his goblet and looked down into the wine. "the boy is in love, as sure as my name is araspes!" exclaimed the elder man. "what a set of foolish fellows you are," broke in zopyrus at this exclamation. "one of you has remained a bachelor in defiance of all persian customs; another has been frightened out of marrying by an oracle; bartja has determined to be content with only one wife; and darius looks like a destur chanting the funeral-service, because his father has told him to make himself happy with the most beautiful and aristocratic girl in persia!" "zopyrus is right," cried araspes. "darius is ungrateful to fortune." bartja meanwhile kept his eyes fixed on the friend, who was thus blamed by the others. he saw that their jests annoyed him, and feeling his own great happiness doubly in that moment, pressed darius's hand, saying: "i am so sorry that i cannot be present at your wedding. by the time i come back, i hope you will be reconciled to your father's choice." "perhaps," said darius, "i may be able to show a second and even a third wife by that time." "anahita" grant it!" exclaimed zopyrus. "the achaemenidae would soon become extinct, if every one were to follow such examples as gyges and araspes have set us. and your one wife, bartja, is really not worth talking about. it is your duty to marry three wives at once, in order to keep up your father's family--the race of cyrus." "i hate our custom of marrying many wives," answered bartja. "through doing this, we make ourselves inferior to the women, for we expect them to remain faithful to us all our lives, and we, who are bound to respect truth and faithfulness above every thing else, swear inviolable love to one woman to-day, and to another to-morrow." "nonsense!" cried zopyrus. "i'd rather lose my tongue than tell a he to a man, but our wives are so awfully deceitful, that one has no choice but to pay them back in their own coin." "the greek women are different," said bartja, "because they are differently treated. sappho told me of one, i think her name was penelope, who waited twenty years faithfully and lovingly for her husband, though every one believed he was dead, and she had fifty lovers a day at her house." "my wives would not wait so long for me," said zopyrus laughing. "to tell the truth, i don't think i should be sorry to find an empty house, if i came back after twenty years. for then i could take some new wives into my harem, young and beautiful, instead of the unfaithful ones, who, besides, would have grown old. but alas! every woman does not find some one to run away with her, and our women would rather have an absent husband than none at all." "if your wives could hear what you are saying!" said araspes. "they would declare war with me at once, or, what is still worse, conclude a peace with one another." "how would that be worse?" "how? it is easy to see, that you have had no experience." "then let us into the secrets of your married life." "with pleasure. you can easily fancy, that five wives in one house do not live quite so peacefully as five doves in a cage; mine at least carry on an uninterrupted, mortal warfare. but i have accustomed myself to that, and their sprightliness even amuses me. a year ago, however, they came to terms with one another, and this day of peace was the most miserable in my life." "you are jesting." "no, indeed, i am quite in earnest. the wretched eunuch who had to keep watch over the five, allowed them to see an old jewel-merchant from tyre. each of them chose a separate and expensive set of jewels. when i came home sudabe came up and begged for money to pay for these ornaments. the things were too dear, and i refused. every one of the five then came and begged me separately for the money; i refused each of them point blank and went off to court. when i came back, there were all my wives weeping side by side, embracing one another and calling each other fellowsufferers. these former enemies rose up against me with the most touching unanimity, and so overwhelmed me with revilings and threats that i left the room. they closed their doors against me. the next morning the lamentations of the evening before were continued. i fled once more and went hunting with the king, and when i came back, tired, hungry and half-frozen--for it was in spring, we were already at ecbatana, and the snow was lying an ell deep on the orontes--there was no fire on the hearth and nothing to eat. these noble creatures had entered into an alliance in order to punish me, had put out the fire, forbidden the cooks to do their duty and, which was worse than all--had kept the jewels! no sooner had i ordered the slaves to make a fire and prepare food, than the impudent jewel-dealer appeared and demanded his money. i refused again, passed another solitary night, and in the morning sacrificed ten talents for the sake of peace. since that time harmony and peace among my beloved wives seems to me as much to be feared as the evil divs themselves, and i see their little quarrels with the greatest pleasure." "poor zopyrus!" cried bartja. "why poor?" asked this five-fold husband. "i tell you i am much happier than you are. my wives are young and charming, and when they grow old, what is to hinder me from taking others, still handsomer, and who, by the side of the faded beauties, will be doubly charming. ho! slave--bring some lamps. the sun has gone down, and the wine loses all its flavor when the table is not brightly lighted." at this moment the voice of darius, who had left the arbor and gone out into the garden, was heard calling: "come and hear how beautifully the nightingale is singing." "by mithras, you son of hystaspes, you must be in love," interrupted araspes. "the flowery darts of love must have entered the heart of him, who leaves his wine to listen to the nightingale." "you are right there, father," cried bartja. "philomel, as the greeks call our gulgul, is the lovers' bird among all nations, for love has given her her beautiful song. what beauty were you dreaming of, darius, when you went out to listen to the nightingale?" "i was not dreaming of any," answered he. "you know how fond i am of watching the stars, and the tistar-star rose so splendidly to-night, that i left the wine to watch it. the nightingales were singing so loudly to one another, that if i had not wished to hear them i must have stopped my ears." "you kept them wide open, however," said araspes laughing. "your enraptured exclamation proved that." "enough of this," cried darius, to whom these jokes were getting wearisome. "i really must beg you to leave off making allusions to matters, which i do not care to hear spoken of." "imprudent fellow!" whispered the older man; "now you really have betrayed yourself. if you were not in love, you would have laughed instead of getting angry. still i won't go on provoking you--tell me what you have just been reading in the stars." at these words darius looked up again into the starry sky and fixed his eyes on a bright constellation hanging over the horizon. zopyrus watched him and called out to his friends, "something important must be happening up there. darius, tell us what's going on in the heavens just now." "nothing good," answered the other. "bartja, i have something to say to you alone." "why to me alone? araspes always keeps his own counsel, and from the rest of you i never have any secrets." "still--" "speak out." "no, i wish you would come into the garden with me." bartja nodded to the others, who were still sitting over their wine, laid his hand on darius' shoulder and went out with him into the bright moonlight. as soon as they were alone, darius seized both his friend's hands, and said: "to-day is the third time that things have happened in the heavens, which bode no good for you. your evil star has approached your favorable constellation so nearly, that a mere novice in astrology could see some serious danger was at hand. be on your guard, bartja, and start for egypt to-day; the stars tell me that the danger is here on the euphrates, not abroad." "do you believe implicitly in the stars?" "implicitly. they never lie." "then it would be folly to try and avoid what they have foretold." "yes, no man can run away from his destiny; but that very destiny is like a fencing-master--his favorite pupils are those who have the courage and skill to parry his own blows. start for egypt to-day, bartja." "i cannot--i haven't taken leave of my mother and atossa." "send them a farewell message, and tell croesus to explain the reason of your starting so quickly." "they would call me a coward." "it is cowardly to yield to any mortal, but to go out of the way of one's fate is wisdom." "you contradict yourself, darius. what would the fencing-master say to a runaway-pupil?" "he would rejoice in the stratagem, by which an isolated individual tried to escape a superior force." "but the superior force must conquer at last.--what would be the use of my trying to put off a danger which, you say yourself, cannot be averted? if my tooth aches, i have it drawn at once, instead of tormenting and making myself miserable for weeks by putting off the painful operation as a coward or a woman would, till the last moment. i can await this coming danger bravely, and the sooner it comes the better, for then i shall have it behind me." "you do not know how serious it is." "are you afraid for my life?" "no." "then tell me, what you are afraid of." "that egyptian priest with whom i used to study the stars, once cast your horoscope with me. he knew more about the heavens, than any man i ever saw. i learnt a great deal from him, and i will not hide from you that even then he drew my attention to dangers that threaten you now." "and you did not tell me?" "why should i have made you uneasy beforehand? now that your destiny is drawing near, i warn you." "thank you,--i will be careful. in former times i should not have listened to such a warning, but now that i love sappho, i feel as if my life were not so much my own to do what i like with, as it used to be." "i understand this feeling . . ." "you understand it? then araspes was right? you don't deny?" "a mere dream without any hope of fulfilment." "but what woman could refuse you?" "refuse!" "i don't understand you. do you mean to say that you--the boldest sportsman, the strongest wrestler--the wisest of all the young persians --that you, darius, are afraid of a woman?" "bartja, may i tell you more, than i would tell even to my own father?" "yes." "i love the daughter of cyrus, your sister and the king's, atossa." "have i understood you rightly? you love atossa? be praised for this, o ye pure amescha cpenta! now i shall never believe in your stars again, for instead of the danger with which they threatened me, here comes an unexpected happiness. embrace me, my brother, and tell me the whole story, that i may see whether i can help you to turn this hopeless dream, as you call it, into a reality." "you will remember that before our journey to egypt, we went with the entire court from ecbatana to susa. i was in command of the division of the "immortals" appointed to escort the carriages containing the king's mother and sister, and his wives. in going through the narrow pass which leads over the orontes, the horses of your mother's carriage slipped. the yoke to which the horses were harnessed broke from the pole, and the heavy, four-wheeled carriage fell over the precipice without obstruction. [there was a yoke at the end of the shaft of a persian carriage, which was fastened on to the backs of the horses and took the place of our horse-collar and pole-chain.] on seeing it disappear, we were horrified and spurred our horses to the place as quickly as possible. we expected of course to see only fragments of the carriages and the dead bodies of its inmates, but the gods had taken them into their almighty protection, and there lay the carriage, with bro