Chapter VIII
JULIA SEEKS ARBACES. THE RESULT OF THAT INTERVIEW.
ARBACES was seated in a chamber which opened on a kind of balcony orportico that fronted his garden. His cheek was pale and worn with thesufferings he had endured, but his iron frame had already recovered fromthe severest effects of that accident which had frustrated his felldesigns in the moment of victory. The air that came fragrantly to hisbrow revived his languid senses, and the blood circulated more freelythan it had done for days through his shrunken veins.
'So, then,' thought he, 'the storm of fate has broken and blownover--the evil which my lore predicted, threatening life itself, haschanced--and yet I live! It came as the stars foretold; and now thelong, bright, and prosperous career which was to succeed that evil, if Isurvived it, smiles beyond: I have passed--I have subdued the latestdanger of my destiny. Now I have but to lay out the gardens of myfuture fate--unterrified and secure. First, then, of all my pleasures,even before that of love, shall come revenge! This boy Greek--who hascrossed my passion--thwarted my designs--baffled me even when the bladewas about to drink his accursed blood--shall not a second time escapeme! But for the method of my vengeance? Of that let me ponder well!Oh! Ate, if thou art indeed a goddess, fill me with thy direstInspiration!' The Egyptian sank into an intent reverie, which did notseem to present to him any clear or satisfactory suggestions. Hechanged his position restlessly, as he revolved scheme after scheme,which no sooner occurred than it was dismissed: several times he struckhis breast and groaned aloud, with the desire of vengeance, and a senseof his impotence to accomplish it. While thus absorbed, a boy slavetimidly entered the chamber.
A female, evidently of rank from her dress, and that of the single slavewho attended her, waited below and sought an audience with Arbaces.
'A female!' his heart beat quick. 'Is she young?'
'Her face is concealed by her veil; but her form is slight, yet round,as that of youth.'
'Admit her,' said the Egyptian: for a moment his vain heart dreamed thestranger might be Ione.
The first glance of the visitor now entering the apartment sufficed toundeceive so erring a fancy. True, she was about the same height asIone, and perhaps the same age--true, she was finely and richlyformed--but where was that undulating and ineffable grace whichaccompanied every motion of the peerless Neapolitan--the chaste anddecorous garb, so simple even in the care of its arrangement--thedignified yet bashful step--the majesty of womanhood and its modesty?
'Pardon me that I rise with pain,' said Arbaces, gazing on the stranger:'I am still suffering from recent illness.'
'Do not disturb thyself, O great Egyptian!' returned Julia, seeking todisguise the fear she already experienced beneath the ready resort offlattery; 'and forgive an unfortunate female, who seeks consolation fromthy wisdom.'
'Draw near, fair stranger,' said Arbaces; 'and speak withoutapprehension or reserve.'
Julia placed herself on a seat beside the Egyptian, and wonderinglygazed around an apartment whose elaborate and costly luxuries shamedeven the ornate enrichment of her father's mansion; fearfully, too, sheregarded the hieroglyphical inscriptions on the walls--the faces of themysterious images, which at every corner gazed upon her--the tripod at alittle distance--and, above all, the grave and remarkable countenance ofArbaces himself: a long white robe like a veil half covered his ravenlocks, and flowed to his feet: his face was made even more impressive byits present paleness; and his dark and penetrating eyes seemed to piercethe shelter of her veil, and explore the secrets of her vain andunfeminine soul.
'And what,' said his low, deep voice, 'brings thee, O maiden! to thehouse of the Eastern stranger?'
'His fame,' replied Julia.
'In what?' said he, with a strange and slight smile.
'Canst thou ask, O wise Arbaces? Is not thy knowledge the very gossiptheme of Pompeii?'
'Some little lore have I indeed, treasured up,' replied Arbaces: 'but inwhat can such serious and sterile secrets benefit the ear of beauty?'
'Alas!' said Julia, a little cheered by the accustomed accents ofadulation; 'does not sorrow fly to wisdom for relief, and they who loveunrequitedly, are not they the chosen victims of grief?'
'Ha!' said Arbaces, 'can unrequited love be the lot of so fair a form,whose modelled proportions are visible even beneath the folds of thygraceful robe? Deign, O maiden! to lift thy veil, that I may see atleast if the face correspond in loveliness with the form.'
Not unwilling, perhaps, to exhibit her charms, and thinking they werelikely to interest the magician in her fate, Julia, after some slighthesitation, raised her veil, and revealed a beauty which, but for art,had been indeed attractive to the fixed gaze of the Egyptian.
'Thou comest to me for advice in unhappy love,' said he; 'well, turnthat face on the ungrateful one: what other love-charm can I give thee?'
'Oh, cease these courtesies!' said Julia; 'it is a love-charm, indeed,that I would ask from thy skill!'
'Fair stranger!' replied Arbaces, somewhat scornfully, 'love-spells arenot among the secrets I have wasted the midnight oil to attain.'
'Is it indeed so? Then pardon me, great Arbaces, and farewell!'
'Stay,' said Arbaces, who, despite his passion for Ione, was not unmovedby the beauty of his visitor; and had he been in the flush of a moreassured health, might have attempted to console the fair Julia by othermeans than those of supernatural wisdom.
'Stay; although I confess that I have left the witchery of philtres andpotions to those whose trade is in such knowledge, yet am I myself notso dull to beauty but that in earlier youth I may have employed them inmy own behalf. I may give thee advice, at least, if thou wilt be candidwith me. Tell me then, first, art thou unmarried, as thy dressbetokens?'
'Yes,' said Julia.
'And, being unblest with fortune, wouldst thou allure some wealthysuitor?'
'I am richer than he who disdains me.'
'Strange and more strange! And thou lovest him who loves not thee?'
'I know not if I love him,' answered Julia, haughtily; 'but I know thatI would see myself triumph over a rival--I would see him who rejected memy suitor--I would see her whom he has preferred in her turn despised.'
'A natural ambition and a womanly,' said the Egyptian, in a tone toograve for irony. 'Yet more, fair maiden; wilt thou confide to me thename of thy lover? Can he be Pompeian, and despise wealth, even ifblind to beauty?'
'He is of Athens,' answered Julia, looking down.
'Ha!' cried the Egyptian, impetuously, as the blood rushed to his cheek;'there is but one Athenian, young and noble, in Pompeii. Can it beGlaucus of whom thou speakest!'
'Ah! betray me not--so indeed they call him.'
The Egyptian sank back, gazing vacantly on the averted face of themerchant's daughter, and muttering inly to himself: this conference,with which he had hitherto only trifled, amusing himself with thecredulity and vanity of his visitor--might it not minister to hisrevenge?'
'I see thou canst assist me not,' said Julia, offended by his continuedsilence; 'guard at least my secret. Once more, farewell!'
'Maiden,' said the Egyptian, in an earnest and serious tone, 'thy suithath touched me--I will minister to thy will. Listen to me; I have notmyself dabbled in these lesser mysteries, but I know one who hath. Atthe base of Vesuvius, less than a league from the city, there dwells apowerful witch; beneath the rank dews of the new moon, she has gatheredthe herbs which possess the virtue to chain Love in eternal fetters.Her art can bring thy lover to thy feet. Seek her, and mention to herthe name of Arbaces: she fears that name, and will give thee her mostpotent philtres.'
'Alas!' answered Julia, I know not the road to the home of her whom thouspeakest of: the way, short though it be, is long to traverse for a girlwho leaves, unknown, the house of her father. The country is entangledwith wild vines, and dangerous with precipitous caverns. I dare nottrust to mere strangers to guide me; the reputation of women of my rankis easily tarnished--and though I
care not who knows that I loveGlaucus, I would not have it imagined that I obtained his love by aspell.'
'Were I but three days advanced in health,' said the Egyptian, risingand walking (as if to try his strength) across the chamber, but withirregular and feeble steps, 'I myself would accompany thee. Well, thoumust wait.'
'But Glaucus is soon to wed that hated Neapolitan.'
'Wed!'
'Yes; in the early part of next month.'
'So soon! Art thou well advised of this?'
'From the lips of her own slave.'
'It shall not be!' said the Egyptian, impetuously. 'Fear nothing,Glaucus shall be thine. Yet how, when thou obtainest it, canst thouadminister to him this potion?'
'My father has invited him, and, I believe, the Neapolitan also, to abanquet, on the day following to-morrow: I shall then have theopportunity to administer it.'
'So be it!' said the Egyptian, with eyes flashing such fierce joy, thatJulia's gaze sank trembling beneath them. 'To-morrow eve, then, orderthy litter--thou hast one at thy command?'
'Surely--yes,' returned the purse-proud Julia.
'Order thy litter--at two miles' distance from the city is a house ofentertainment, frequented by the wealthier Pompeians, from theexcellence of its baths, and the beauty of its gardens. There canstthou pretend only to shape thy course--there, ill or dying, I will meetthee by the statue of Silenus, in the copse that skirts the garden; andI myself will guide thee to the witch. Let us wait till, with theevening star, the goats of the herdsmen are gone to rest; when the darktwilight conceals us, and none shall cross our steps. Go home and fearnot. By Hades, swears Arbaces, the sorcerer of Egypt, that Ione shallnever wed with Glaucus.'
'And that Glaucus shall be mine,' added Julia, filling up theincompleted sentence.
'Thou hast said it!' replied Arbaces; and Julia, half frightened at thisunhallowed appointment, but urged on by jealousy and the pique ofrivalship, even more than love, resolved to fulfill it.
Left alone, Arbaces burst forth:
'Bright stars that never lie, ye already begin the execution of yourpromises--success in love, and victory over foes, for the rest of mysmooth existence. In the very hour when my mind could devise no clue tothe goal of vengeance, have ye sent this fair fool for my guide?' Hepaused in deep thought. 'Yes,' said he again, but in a calmer voice; 'Icould not myself have given to her the poison, that shall be indeed aphiltre!--his death might be thus tracked to my door. But thewitch--ay, there is the fit, the natural agent of my designs!'
He summoned one of his slaves, bade him hasten to track the steps ofJulia, and acquaint himself with her name and condition. This done, hestepped forth into the portico. The skies were serene and clear; buthe, deeply read in the signs of their various change, beheld in one massof cloud, far on the horizon, which the wind began slowly to agitate,that a storm was brooding above.
'It is like my vengeance,' said he, as he gazed; 'the sky is clear, butthe cloud moves on.'
The Last Days of Pompeii Page 24