The Last Days of Pompeii

by Baron Edward Bulwer Lytton Lytton

  Chapter X

  THE LORD OF THE BURNING BELT AND HIS MINION. FATE WRITES HER PROPHECYIN RED LETTERS, BUT WHO SHALL READ THEM?

  ARBACES had tarried only till the cessation of the tempest allowed him,under cover of night, to seek the Saga of Vesuvius. Borne by those ofhis trustier slaves in whom in all more secret expeditions he wasaccustomed to confide, he lay extended along his litter, and resigninghis sanguine heart to the contemplation of vengeance gratified and lovepossessed. The slaves in so short a journey moved very little slowerthan the ordinary pace of mules; and Arbaces soon arrived at thecommencement of a narrow path, which the lovers had not been fortunateenough to discover; but which, skirting the thick vines, led at once tothe habitation of the witch. Here he rested the litter; and bidding hisslaves conceal themselves and the vehicle among the vines from theobservation of any chance passenger, he mounted alone, with steps stillfeeble but supported by a long staff, the drear and sharp ascent.

  Not a drop of rain fell from the tranquil heaven; but the moisturedripped mournfully from the laden boughs of the vine, and now and thencollected in tiny pools in the crevices and hollows of the rocky way.

  'Strange passions these for a philosopher,' thought Arbaces, 'that leadone like me just new from the bed of death, and lapped even in healthamidst the roses of luxury, across such nocturnal paths as this; butPassion and Vengeance treading to their goal can make an Elysium of aTartarus.' High, clear, and melancholy shone the moon above the road ofthat dark wayfarer, glossing herself in every pool that lay before him,and sleeping in shadow along the sloping mount. He saw before him thesame light that had guided the steps of his intended victims, but, nolonger contrasted by the blackened clouds, it shone less redly clear.

  He paused, as at length he approached the mouth of the cavern, torecover breath; and then, with his wonted collected and stately mien, hecrossed the unhallowed threshold.

  The fox sprang up at the ingress of this newcomer, and by a long howlannounced another visitor to his mistress.

  The witch had resumed her seat, and her aspect of gravelike and grimrepose. By her feet, upon a bed of dry weeds which half covered it, laythe wounded snake; but the quick eye of the Egyptian caught its scalesglittering in the reflected light of the opposite fire, as itwrithed--now contracting, now lengthening, its folds, in pain andunsated anger.

  'Down, slave!' said the witch, as before, to the fox; and, as before,the animal dropped to the ground--mute, but vigilant.

  'Rise, servant of Nox and Erebus!' said Arbaces, commandingly; 'asuperior in thine art salutes thee! rise, and welcome him.'

  At these words the hag turned her gaze upon the Egyptian's towering formand dark features. She looked long and fixedly upon him, as he stoodbefore her in his Oriental robe, and folded arms, and steadfast andhaughty brow. 'Who art thou,' she said at last, 'that callest thyselfgreater in art than the Saga of the Burning Fields, and the daughter ofthe perished Etrurian race?'

  'I am he,' answered Arbaces, 'from whom all cultivators of magic, fromnorth to south, from east to west, from the Ganges and the Nile to thevales of Thessaly and the shores of the yellow Tiber, have stooped tolearn.'

  'There is but one such man in these places,' answered the witch, 'whomthe men of the outer world, unknowing his loftier attributes and moresecret fame, call Arbaces the Egyptian: to us of a higher nature anddeeper knowledge, his rightful appellation is Hermes of the BurningGirdle.'

  'Look again, returned Arbaces: 'I am he.'

  As he spoke he drew aside his robe, and revealed a cincture seemingly offire, that burned around his waist, clasped in the centre by a platewhereon was engraven some sign apparently vague and unintelligible butwhich was evidently not unknown to the Saga. She rose hastily, andthrew herself at the feet of Arbaces. 'I have seen, then,' said she, ina voice of deep humility, 'the Lord of the Mighty Girdle--vouchsafe myhomage.'

  'Rise,' said the Egyptian; 'I have need of thee.'

  So saying, he placed himself on the same log of wood on which Ione hadrested before, and motioned to the witch to resume her seat.

  'Thou sayest,' said he, as she obeyed, 'that thou art a daughter of theancient Etrurian tribes; the mighty walls of whose rock-built cities yetfrown above the robber race that hath seized upon their ancient reign.Partly came those tribes from Greece, partly were they exiles from amore burning and primeval soil. In either case art thou of Egyptianlineage, for the Grecian masters of the aboriginal helot were among therestless sons whom the Nile banished from her bosom. Equally, then, OSaga! thy descent is from ancestors that swore allegiance to mine own.By birth as by knowledge, art thou the subject of Arbaces. Hear me,then, and obey!'

  The witch bowed her head.

  'Whatever art we possess in sorcery,' continued Arbaces, 'we aresometimes driven to natural means to attain our object. The ring andthe crystal, and the ashes and the herbs, do not give unerringdivinations; neither do the higher mysteries of the moon yield even thepossessor of the girdle a dispensation from the necessity of employingever and anon human measures for a human object. Mark me, then: thouart deeply skilled, methinks, in the secrets of the more deadly herbs;thou knowest those which arrest life, which burn and scorch the soulfrom out her citadel, or freeze the channels of young blood into thatice which no sun can melt. Do I overrate thy skill? Speak, and truly!'

  'Mighty Hermes, such lore is, indeed, mine own. Deign to look at theseghostly and corpse-like features; they have waned from the hues of lifemerely by watching over the rank herbs which simmer night and day in yoncauldron.'

  The Egyptian moved his seat from so unblessed or so unhealthful avicinity as the witch spoke.

  'It is well,' said he; 'thou hast learned that maxim of all the deeperknowledge which saith, "Despise the body to make wise the mind." But tothy task. There cometh to thee by to-morrow's starlight a vain maiden,seeking of thine art a love-charm to fascinate from another the eyesthat should utter but soft tales to her own: instead of thy philtres,give the maiden one of thy most powerful poisons. Let the lover breathehis vows to the Shades.'

  The witch trembled from head to foot.

  'Oh pardon! pardon! dread master,' said she, falteringly, 'but this Idare not. The law in these cities is sharp and vigilant; they willseize, they will slay me.'

  'For what purpose, then, thy herbs and thy potions, vain Saga?' saidArbaces, sneeringly.

  The witch hid her loathsome face with her hands.

  'Oh! years ago,' said she, in a voice unlike her usual tones, soplaintive was it, and so soft, 'I was not the thing that I am now. Iloved, I fancied myself beloved.'

  'And what connection hath thy love, witch, with my commands?' saidArbaces, impetuously.

  'Patience,' resumed the witch; 'patience, I implore. I loved! anotherand less fair than I--yes, by Nemesis! less fair--allured from me mychosen. I was of that dark Etrurian tribe to whom most of all wereknown the secrets of the gloomier magic. My mother was herself a saga:she shared the resentment of her child; from her hands I received thepotion that was to restore me his love; and from her, also, the poisonthat was to destroy my rival. Oh, crush me, dread walls! my tremblinghands mistook the phials, my lover fell indeed at my feet; but dead!dead! dead! Since then, what has been life to me I became suddenly old,I devoted myself to the sorceries of my race; still by an irresistibleimpulse I curse myself with an awful penance; still I seek the mostnoxious herbs; still I concoct the poisons; still I imagine that I am togive them to my hated rival; still I pour them into the phial; still Ifancy that they shall blast her beauty to the dust; still I wake and seethe quivering body, the foaming lips, the glazing eyes of myAulus--murdered, and by me!'

  The skeleton frame of the witch shook beneath strong convulsions.

  Arbaces gazed upon her with a curious though contemptuous eye.

  'And this foul thing has yet human emotions!' thought he; 'still shecowers over the ashes of the same fire that consumes Arbaces!--Such arewe all! Mystic is the tie of those mortal passions that unite th
egreatest and the least.'

  He did not reply till she had somewhat recovered herself, and now satrocking to and fro in her seat, with glassy eyes fixed on the oppositeflame, and large tears rolling down her livid cheeks.

  'A grievous tale is thine, in truth,' said Arbaces. 'But these emotionsare fit only for our youth--age should harden our hearts to all thingsbut ourselves; as every year adds a scale to the shell-fish, so shouldeach year wall and incrust the heart. Think of those frenzies no more!And now, listen to me again! By the revenge that was dear to thee, Icommand thee to obey me! it is for vengeance that I seek thee! Thisyouth whom I would sweep from my path has crossed me, despite myspells:--this thing of purple and broidery, of smiles and glances,soulless and mindless, with no charm but that of beauty--accursed beit!--this insect--this Glaucus--I tell thee, by Orcus and by Nemesis, hemust die.'

  And working himself up at every word, the Egyptian, forgetful of hisdebility--of his strange companion--of everything but his own vindictiverage, strode, with large and rapid steps, the gloomy cavern.

  'Glaucus! saidst thou, mighty master!' said the witch, abruptly; and herdim eye glared at the name with all that fierce resentment at the memoryof small affronts so common amongst the solitary and the shunned.

  'Ay, so he is called; but what matters the name? Let it not be heard asthat of a living man three days from this date!'

  'Hear me!' said the witch, breaking from a short reverie into which shewas plunged after this last sentence of the Egyptian. 'Hear me! I am thything and thy slave! spare me! If I give to the maiden thou speakest ofthat which would destroy the life of Glaucus, I shall be surelydetected--the dead ever find avengers. Nay, dread man! if thy visit tome be tracked, if thy hatred to Glaucus be known, thou mayest have needof thy archest magic to protect thyself!'

  'Ha!' said Arbaces, stopping suddenly short; and as a proof of thatblindness with which passion darkens the eyes even of the most acute,this was the first time when the risk that he himself ran by this methodof vengeance had occurred to a mind ordinarily wary and circumspect.

  'But,' continued the witch, 'if instead of that which shall arrest theheart, I give that which shall sear and blast the brain--which shallmake him who quaffs it unfit for the uses and career of life--an abject,raving, benighted thing--smiting sense to drivelling youth todotage--will not thy vengeance be equally sated--thy object equallyattained?'

  'Oh, witch! no longer the servant, but the sister--the equal ofArbaces--how much brighter is woman's wit, even in vengeance, than ours!how much more exquisite than death is such a doom!'

  'And,' continued the hag, gloating over her fell scheme, 'in this is butlittle danger; for by ten thousand methods, which men forbear to seek,can our victim become mad. He may have been among the vines and seen anymph--or the vine itself may have had the same effect--ha, ha! theynever inquire too scrupulously into these matters in which the gods maybe agents. And let the worst arrive--let it be known that it is alove-charm--why, madness is a common effect of philtres; and even thefair she that gave it finds indulgence in the excuse. Mighty Hermes,have I ministered to thee cunningly?'

  'Thou shalt have twenty years' longer date for this,' returned Arbaces.'I will write anew the epoch of thy fate on the face of the palestars--thou shalt not serve in vain the Master of the Flaming Belt. Andhere, Saga, carve thee out, by these golden tools, a warmer cell in thisdreary cavern--one service to me shall countervail a thousanddivinations by sieve and shears to the gaping rustics.' So saying, hecast upon the floor a heavy purse, which clinked not unmusically to theear of the hag, who loved the consciousness of possessing the means topurchase comforts she disdained. 'Farewell,' said Arbaces, 'failnot--outwatch the stars in concocting thy beverage--thou shalt lord itover thy sisters at the Walnut-tree,' when thou tellest them that thypatron and thy friend is Hermes the Egyptian. To-morrow night we meetagain.'

  He stayed not to hear the valediction or the thanks of the witch; with aquick step he passed into the moonlit air, and hastened down themountain.

  The witch, who followed his steps to the threshold, stood at theentrance of the cavern, gazing fixedly on his receding form; and as thesad moonlight streamed over her shadowy form and deathlike face,emerging from the dismal rocks, it seemed as if one gifted, indeed, bysupernatural magic had escaped from the dreary Orcus; and, the foremostof its ghostly throng, stood at its black portals--vainly summoning hisreturn, or vainly sighing to rejoin him. The hag, then slowlyre-entering the cave, groaningly picked up the heavy purse, took thelamp from its stand, and, passing to the remotest depth of her cell, ablack and abrupt passage, which was not visible, save at a nearapproach, closed round as it was with jutting and sharp crags, yawnedbefore her: she went several yards along this gloomy path, which slopedgradually downwards, as if towards the bowels of the earth, and, liftinga stone, deposited her treasure in a hole beneath, which, as the lamppierced its secrets, seemed already to contain coins of various value,wrung from the credulity or gratitude of her visitors.

  'I love to look at you,' said she, apostrophising the moneys; 'for whenI see you I feel that I am indeed of power. And I am to have twentyyears' longer life to increase your store! O thou great Hermes!'

  She replaced the stone, and continued her path onward for some paces,when she stopped before a deep irregular fissure in the earth. Here, asshe bent--strange, rumbling, hoarse, and distant sounds might be heard,while ever and anon, with a loud and grating noise which, to use ahomely but faithful simile, seemed to resemble the grinding of steelupon wheels, volumes of streaming and dark smoke issued forth, andrushed spirally along the cavern.

  'The Shades are noisier than their wont,' said the hag, shaking her greylocks; and, looking into the cavity, she beheld, far down, glimpses of along streak of light, intensely but darkly red. 'Strange!' she said,shrinking back; 'it is only within the last two days that dull, deeplight hath been visible--what can it portend?'

  The fox, who had attended the steps of his fell mistress, uttered adismal howl, and ran cowering back to the inner cave; a cold shudderingseized the hag herself at the cry of the animal, which, causeless as itseemed, the superstitions of the time considered deeply ominous. Shemuttered her placatory charm, and tottered back into her cavern, where,amidst her herbs and incantations, she prepared to execute the orders ofthe Egyptian.

  'He called me dotard,' said she, as the smoke curled from the hissingcauldron: 'when the jaws drop, and the grinders fall, and the heartscarce beats, it is a pitiable thing to dote; but when,' she added, witha savage and exulting grin, 'the young, and the beautiful, and thestrong, are suddenly smitten into idiocy--ah, that is terrible! Burn,flame--simmer herb--swelter toad--I cursed him, and he shall be cursed!'

  On that night, and at the same hour which witnessed the dark and unholyinterview between Arbaces and the Saga, Apaecides was baptized.

  Chapter XI

  PROGRESS OF EVENTS. THE PLOT THICKENS. THE WEB IS WOVEN, BUT THE NETCHANGES HANDS.

  'AND you have the courage then, Julia, to seek the Witch of Vesuviusthis evening; in company, too, with that fearful man?'

  'Why, Nydia?' replied Julia, timidly; 'dost thou really think there isanything to dread? These old hags, with their enchanted mirrors, theirtrembling sieves, and their moon-gathered herbs, are, I imagine, butcrafty impostors, who have learned, perhaps, nothing but the very charmfor which I apply to their skill, and which is drawn but from theknowledge of the field's herbs and simples. Wherefore should I dread?'

  'Dost thou not fear thy companion?'

  'What, Arbaces? By Dian, I never saw lover more courteous than thatsame magician! And were he not so dark, he would be even handsome.'

  Blind as she was, Nydia had the penetration to perceive that Julia'smind was not one that the gallantries of Arbaces were likely to terrify.She therefore dissuaded her no more: but nursed in her excited heart thewild and increasing desire to know if sorcery had indeed a spell tofascinate love to love.

  'Let me go with thee, noble Julia,' sa
id she at length; 'my presence isno protection, but I should like to be beside thee to the last.'

  'Thine offer pleases me much,' replied the daughter of Diomed. 'Yet howcanst thou contrive it? we may not return until late, they will missthee.'

  'Ione is indulgent,' replied Nydia. 'If thou wilt permit me to sleepbeneath thy roof, I will say that thou, an early patroness and friend,hast invited me to pass the day with thee, and sing thee my Thessaliansongs; her courtesy will readily grant to thee so light a boon.'

  'Nay, ask for thyself!' said the haughty Julia. 'I stoop to request nofavor from the Neapolitan!'

  'Well, be it so. I will take my leave now; make my request, which Iknow will be readily granted, and return shortly.'

  'Do so; and thy bed shall be prepared in my own chamber.' With that,Nydia left the fair Pompeian.

  On her way back to Ione she was met by the chariot of Glaucus, on whosefiery and curveting steeds was riveted the gaze of the crowded street.

  He kindly stopped for a moment to speak to the flower-girl.

  'Blooming as thine own roses, my gentle Nydia! and how is thy fairmistress?--recovered, I trust, from the effects of the storm?'

  'I have not seen her this morning,' answered Nydia, 'but...'

  'But what? draw back--the horses are too near thee.'

  'But think you Ione will permit me to pass the day with Julia, thedaughter of Diomed?--She wishes it, and was kind to me when I had fewfriends.'

  'The gods bless thy grateful heart! I will answer for Ione'spermission.'

  'Then I may stay over the night, and return to-morrow?' said Nydia,shrinking from the praise she so little merited.

  'As thou and fair Julia please. Commend me to her; and hark ye, Nydia,when thou hearest her speak, note the contrast of her voice with that ofthe silver-toned Ione. Vale!'

  His spirits entirely recovered from the effect of the past night, hislocks waving in the wind, his joyous and elastic heart bounding withevery spring of his Parthian steeds, a very prototype of his country'sgod, full of youth and of love--Glaucus was borne rapidly to hismistress.

  Enjoy while ye may the present--who can read the future?

  As the evening darkened, Julia, reclined within her litter, which wascapacious enough also to admit her blind companion, took her way to therural baths indicated by Arbaces. To her natural levity of disposition,her enterprise brought less of terror than of pleasurable excitement;above all, she glowed at the thought of her coming triumph over thehated Neapolitan.

  A small but gay group was collected round the door of the villa, as herlitter passed by it to the private entrance of the baths appropriated tothe women.

  'Methinks, by this dim light,' said one of the bystanders, 'I recognizethe slaves of Diomed.'

  'True, Clodius,' said Sallust: 'it is probably the litter of hisdaughter Julia. She is rich, my friend; why dost thou not proffer thysuit to her?'

  'Why, I had once hoped that Glaucus would have married her. She doesnot disguise her attachment; and then, as he gambles freely and withill-success...'

  'The sesterces would have passed to thee, wise Clodius. A wife is agood thing--when it belongs to another man!'

  'But,' continued Clodius, 'as Glaucus is, I understand, to wed theNeapolitan, I think I must even try my chance with the dejected maid.After all, the lamp of Hymen will be gilt, and the vessel will reconcileone to the odor of the flame. I shall only protest, my Sallust, againstDiomed's making thee trustee to his daughter's fortune.'

  'Ha! ha! let us within, my comissator; the wine and the garlands waitus.'

  Dismissing her slaves to that part of the house set apart for theirentertainment, Julia entered the baths with Nydia, and declining theoffers of the attendants, passed by a private door into the gardenbehind.

  'She comes by appointment, be sure,' said one of the slaves.

  'What is that to thee?' said a superintendent, sourly; 'she pays for thebaths, and does not waste the saffron. Such appointments are the bestpart of the trade. Hark! do you not hear the widow Fulvia clapping herhands? Run, fool--run!'

  Julia and Nydia, avoiding the more public part of the garden, arrived atthe place specified by the Egyptian. In a small circular plot of grassthe stars gleamed upon the statue of Silenus--the merry god reclinedupon a fragment of rock--the lynx of Bacchus at his feet--and over hismouth he held, with extended arm, a bunch of grapes, which he seeminglylaughed to welcome ere he devoured.

  'I see not the magician,' said Julia, looking round: when, as she spoke,the Egyptian slowly emerged from the neighboring foliage, and the lightfell palely over his sweeping robes.

  'Salve, sweet maiden!--But ha! whom hast thou here? we must have nocompanions!'

  'It is but the blind flower-girl, wise magician,' replied Julia:'herself a Thessalian.'

  'Oh! Nydia!' said the Egyptian. 'I know her well.'

  Nydia drew back and shuddered.

  'Thou hast been at my house, methinks!' said he, approaching his voiceto Nydia's ear; 'thou knowest the oath!--Silence and secrecy, now asthen, or beware!'

  'Yet,' he added, musingly to himself, 'why confide more than isnecessary, even in the blind--Julia, canst thou trust thyself alone withme? Believe me, the magician is less formidable than he seems.'

  As he spoke, he gently drew Julia aside.

  'The witch loves not many visitors at once,' said he: 'leave Nydia heretill your return; she can be of no assistance to us: and, forprotection--your own beauty suffices--your own beauty and your own rank;yes, Julia, I know thy name and birth. Come, trust thyself with me,fair rival of the youngest of the Naiads!'

  The vain Julia was not, as we have seen, easily affrighted; she wasmoved by the flattery of Arbaces, and she readily consented to sufferNydia to await her return; nor did Nydia press her presence. At thesound of the Egyptian's voice all her terror of him returned: she felt asentiment of pleasure at learning she was not to travel in hiscompanionship.

  She returned to the Bath-house, and in one of the private chamberswaited their return. Many and bitter were the thoughts of this wildgirl as she sat there in her eternal darkness. She thought of her owndesolate fate, far from her native land, far from the bland cares thatonce assuaged the April sorrows of childhood--deprived of the light ofday, with none but strangers to guide her steps, accursed by the onesoft feeling of her heart, loving and without hope, save the dim andunholy ray which shot across her mind, as her Thessalian fanciesquestioned of the force of spells and the gifts of magic.

  Nature had sown in the heart of this poor girl the seeds of virtuenever destined to ripen. The lessons of adversity are not alwayssalutary--sometimes they soften and amend, but as often they indurateand pervert. If we consider ourselves more harshly treated by fate thanthose around us, and do not acknowledge in our own deeds the justice ofthe severity, we become too apt to deem the world our enemy, to caseourselves in defiance, to wrestle against our softer self, and toindulge the darker passions which are so easily fermented by the senseof injustice. Sold early into slavery, sentenced to a sordidtaskmaster, exchanging her situation, only yet more to embitter herlot--the kindlier feelings, naturally profuse in the breast of Nydia,were nipped and blighted. Her sense of right and wrong was confused bya passion to which she had so madly surrendered herself; and the sameintense and tragic emotions which we read of in the women of the classicage--a Myrrha, a Medea--and which hurried and swept away the whole soulwhen once delivered to love--ruled, and rioted in, her breast.

  Time passed: a light step entered the chamber where Nydia yet indulgedher gloomy meditations.

  'Oh, thanked be the immortal gods!' said Julia, 'I have returned, I haveleft that terrible cavern! Come, Nydia! let us away forthwith!'

  It was not till they were seated in the litter that Julia again spoke.

  'Oh!' said she, tremblingly, 'such a scene! such fearful incantations!and the dead face of the hag!--But, let us talk not of it. I haveobtained the potion--she pledges its effect. My rival shall be suddenlyindiffere
nt to his eye, and I, I alone, the idol of Glaucus!'

  'Glaucus!' exclaimed Nydia.

  'Ay! I told thee, girl, at first, that it was not the Athenian whom Iloved: but I see now that I may trust thee wholly--it is the beautifulGreek!'

  What then were Nydia's emotions! she had connived, she had assisted, intearing Glaucus from Ione; but only to transfer, by all the power ofmagic, his affections yet more hopelessly to another. Her heart swelledalmost to suffocation--she gasped for breath--in the darkness of thevehicle, Julia did not perceive the agitation of her companion; she wenton rapidly dilating on the promised effect of her acquisition, and onher approaching triumph over Ione, every now and then abruptlydigressing to the horror of the scene she had quitted--the unmoved mienof Arbaces, and his authority over the dreadful Saga.

  Meanwhile Nydia recovered her self-possession: a thought flashed acrossher: she slept in the chamber of Julia--she might possess herself of thepotion.

  They arrived at the house of Diomed, and descended to Julia's apartment,where the night's repast awaited them.

  'Drink, Nydia, thou must be cold, the air was chill to-night; as for me,my veins are yet ice.'

  And Julia unhesitatingly quaffed deep draughts of the spiced wine.

  'Thou hast the potion,' said Nydia; 'let me hold it in my hands. Howsmall the phial is! of what color is the draught?'

  'Clear as crystal,' replied Julia, as she retook the philtre; 'thoucouldst not tell it from this water. The witch assures me it istasteless. Small though the phial, it suffices for a life's fidelity:it is to be poured into any liquid; and Glaucus will only know what hehas quaffed by the effect.'

  'Exactly like this water in appearance?'

  'Yes, sparkling and colorless as this. How bright it seems! it is asthe very essence of moonlit dews. Bright thing! how thou shinest on myhopes through thy crystal vase!'

  'And how is it sealed?'

  'But by one little stopper--I withdraw it now--the draught gives noodor. Strange, that that which speaks to neither sense should thuscommand all!'

  'Is the effect instantaneous?'

  'Usually--but sometimes it remains dormant for a few hours.'

  'Oh, how sweet is this perfume!' said Nydia, suddenly, as she took up asmall bottle on the table, and bent over its fragrant contents.

  'Thinkest thou so? the bottle is set with gems of some value. Thouwouldst not have the bracelet yestermorn--wilt thou take the bottle?'

  'It ought to be such perfumes as these that should remind one who cannotsee of the generous Julia. If the bottle be not too costly...'

  'Oh! I have a thousand costlier ones: take it, child!'

  Nydia bowed her gratitude, and placed the bottle in her vest.

  'And the draught would be equally efficacious, whoever administers it?'

  'If the most hideous hag beneath the sun bestowed it, such is itsasserted virtue that Glaucus would deem her beautiful, and none buther!'

  Julia, warmed by wine, and the reaction of her spirits, was now allanimation and delight; she laughed loud, and talked on a hundredmatters--nor was it till the night had advanced far towards morning thatshe summoned her slaves and undressed.

  When they were dismissed, she said to Nydia, 'I will not suffer thisholy draught to quit my presence till the hour comes for its use. Lieunder my pillow, bright spirit, and give me happy dreams!'

  So saying, she placed the potion under her pillow. Nydia's heart beatviolently.

  'Why dost thou drink that unmixed water, Nydia? Take the wine by itsside.'

  'I am fevered,' replied the blind girl, 'and the water cools me. I willplace this bottle by my bedside, it refreshes in these summer nights,when the dews of sleep fall not on our lips. Fair Julia, I must leavethee very early--so Ione bids--perhaps before thou art awake; accept,therefore, now my congratulations.'

  'Thanks: when next we meet you may find Glaucus at my feet.'

  They had retired to their couches, and Julia, worn out by the excitementof the day, soon slept. But anxious and burning thoughts rolled overthe mind of the wakeful Thessalian. She listened to the calm breathingof Julia; and her ear, accustomed to the finest distinctions of sound,speedily assured her of the deep slumber of her companion.

  'Now befriend me, Venus!' said she, softly.

  She rose gently, and poured the perfume from the gift of Julia upon themarble floor--she rinsed it several times carefully with the water thatwas beside her, and then easily finding the bed of Julia (for night toher was as day), she pressed her trembling hand under the pillow andseized the potion. Julia stirred not, her breath regularly fanned theburning cheek of the blind girl. Nydia, then, opening the phial, pouredits contents into the bottle, which easily contained them; and thenrefilling the former reservoir of the potion with that limpid waterwhich Julia had assured her it so resembled, she once more placed thephial in its former place. She then stole again to her couch, andwaited--with what thoughts!--the dawning day.

  The sun had risen--Julia slept still--Nydia noiselessly dressed herself,placed her treasure carefully in her vest, took up her staff, andhastened to quit the house.

  The porter, Medon, saluted her kindly as she descended the steps thatled to the street: she heard him not; her mind was confused and lost inthe whirl of tumultuous thoughts, each thought a passion. She felt thepure morning air upon her cheek, but it cooled not her scorching veins.

  'Glaucus,' she murmured, 'all the love-charms of the wildest magic couldnot make thee love me as I love thee. Ione!--ah; away hesitation! awayremorse! Glaucus, my fate is in thy smile; and thine! hope! O joy! Otransport, thy fate is in these hands!'