CHAPTER II
ATTACK AND DEFENCE
Such beauty as the Jewess's, although she seldom went abroad, and led assequestered a life as was compatible with the domestic duties she had toperform, could not pass unnoticed in a place like Rome. Notwithstandingthe utter contempt in which her nation was held by its proud conquerors,she had been observed going to market in the morning for the fewnecessaries of her household, or filling her pitcher from the Tiber atsunset; and amongst other evil eyes that had rested on her fair young facewere those of Damasippus, freedman to Julius Placidus the tribune. He hadlost no time in reporting to his patron the jewel he had discovered, so tospeak, in its humble setting; for, like the jackal, Damasippus never daredto hunt for himself, and followed after evil, not for its own sake, butfor the lust of gold.
His patron, too, though he had only seen the girl once, and then closelyveiled, was so inflamed by the description of her charms, on which theclient dwelt at great length, that he resolved to possess himself of her,in the sheer insolence of a great man's whim, promising the freedman thatafter the lion was served he should have the jackal's reward. It was inconsequence of this agreement that a plot was laid of which Esca overheardbut half a dozen syllables, and yet enough to render him very uneasy whenhe reflected on the recklessness and cruelty of him with whom itoriginated, and the slavish obedience with which it was sure to be carriedout. It would have broken the spirit of a brave man to be chained to apillar, fasting and wounded, with only twenty-four hours to live; and akeen suspicion that the woman he loved was even then all unconsciouslywalking into the toils, added a pang to bodily suffering which might haveturned the stoutest heart to water, but Esca never lost hope altogether.Something he could not analyse seemed to give him comfort and support, norwas he aware that the blind vague trust he was beginning to entertain insome power above and beyond himself, yet on which he felt he couldimplicitly rely, was the first glimmer of the true faith dawning on hissoul.
Perhaps the slave in his chain, under sentence of death, bore a lighterheart than his luxurious master, washed, perfumed, and tricked out in allthe glitter of dress and ornament, rolling in his gilded chariot to dohomage to the woman who had really mastered his selfish heart. Automedon,whose eyes were of the sharpest, remarked that his lord was nervous andrestless, that his cheek paled, and his lip shook more and more as theyproceeded on their well-known way, and that when they neared the portalsof Valeria's house the tribune's hand trembled so that he could scarcelyfasten the brooch upon his shoulder. How white against the crimson mantle,dyed twice and thrice till it had deepened almost into purple, lookedthose uncertain fingers, quivering about the clasp of gold!
However reckless, unprincipled, and cunning a man may be, he is inevitablydisarmed by the woman he really loves. This is even the case when hisaffection is returned; but when he has fallen into the hands of one who,disliking him personally, has resolved to make him her tool, his situationis pitiable indeed. These hopeless passions, too, have in all ages been ofthe fiercest and the most enduring. Ill-usage on the one side or the otherhas not produced the effect that might be expected, and the figurativeshirt of Nessus, instead of being torn off in shreds and cast away, hasbeen far oftener hugged closer and closer to the skin, burning andblistering into the very marrow. It generally happens, too, that thesuitor, whose whole existence seems to hang upon his success, blundersinto the course that leads him in a direction exactly contrary to hisgoal. He is pretty sure to say and do the wrong thing at the wrong time.He offers his attentions with a pertinacity that wearies and offends, orwithdraws them with a precipitation so transparent as to compel remark.When he should be firm, he is plaintive; when he is expected to becheerful, he turns sulky. To enhance his own value he becomes boastful tothe extreme verge, and sometimes beyond it, of the truth; or in order toprove his devotion, he makes himself ridiculous, and thereby deals thefinal and suicidal blow, if such indeed be necessary, that is to shatterlike glass the fabric of his hopes.
The tribune knew women thoroughly. He could plead no lack of experience,for ignorance of that intricate and puzzling labyrinth, a woman's heart.He had, indeed, broken more than one in the process of examination, andyet the boy Automedon, sitting by his side in the chariot, with the windlifting his golden curls, would hardly have been guilty of so many falsemovements, such mistakes both of tactics and strategy, as disgraced hislord's conduct of the unequal warfare he waged with Valeria. Yet thisengrossing affection, stained and selfish as it was, constituted perhapsthe one redeeming quality of the tribune's character; afforded the onlyincentive by which his better and manlier feelings could be aroused.
Possibly Valeria expected him. Women have strange instincts on suchmatters, which seldom deceive. She was dressed with the utmostmagnificence, as though conscious that simplicity could have no charms forPlacidus, and sat in a splendour nearly regal, keeping Myrrhina and therest of her maidens within call. Lovers are acute observers; as he walkedup the cool spacious court to greet her, he saw that she was gentler, andmore languid than her wont; she looked wearied and unhappy, as though she,too, acknowledged the sorrows and the weaknesses of her sex. Lover-like,he thought this unusual shade of softness became her well.
For days she had been fighting with her own heart, and she had suffered assuch undisciplined natures must. The strife had left its traces on herpale proud face, and she felt a vague unacknowledged yearning for repose.The wild-bird had beat her wings and ruffled her plumage till she wastired, and a skilful fowler would have taken advantage of the reaction tolure her into his net. Perhaps she had been thinking what happiness itmust be to have one in the world in whom she could confide, on whom shecould rely; one loyal manly nature on which to rest her woman's heart,with all its caprices, and weaknesses, and capacity for love; perhaps shemay have been even touched by the tribune's unshaken devotion to herself,by the constancy which could withstand the allurements of vice, and eventhe distractions of political intrigue; perhaps to-day she disliked himless than on any former occasion, though it could hardly have been for_his_ sake that her eye was heavy, and her bosom heaved. If so, whateverfavour he had unconsciously gained, was as unconsciously destroyed by hisown hand. He approached her with an air of assumed confidence, that maskedonly too well the agitation of his real feelings.
"Fair Valeria," said he, "I have obeyed your commands, and I come like afaithful servant to claim my reward."
Now a woman's commands are not always intended to be literally obeyed.Under any circumstances she seldom likes to be reminded of them; and asfor _claiming_ anything from Valeria, why the very word roused all therebellion that was dormant in her nature. At that instant rose on hermind's eye the scene in the amphitheatre, the level sand, the tossing seaof faces, the hoarse roar of the crowd, the strong white limbs and theyellow locks lying helpless beneath a dark vindictive face, and a glitterof uplifted steel. How she hated the conqueror then! How she hated himnow! She was clasping a bracelet carelessly on her arm, the fair round armhe admired so much, and that never looked so fair and round as in thisgesture. It was part of his torture to make herself as attractive as shecould. Her cold eyes chilled him at once.
"I had forgotten all about it," said she. "I am obliged to you forreminding me that I am in your debt."
Though somewhat hurt, he answered courteously, "There can be no debt froma mistress to her slave. You know, Valeria, that all of mine, even to mylife, is at your disposal."
"Well?" she asked, with a provoking persistency of misapprehension.
He began to lose his head; he, ordinarily so calm, and cunning, and self-reliant.
"You bade me enter on a difficult and dangerous undertaking. It wasperhaps a lady's caprice, the merest possible whim. But you expressed awish, and I never rested till I had accomplished it."
"You mean about that wretched slave?" said she, and the colour rosefaintly to her cheek. "But you never killed him after all."
How little he knew her! T
his, then, he thought, was the cause of hercoldness, of her displeasure. Esca had in some way incurred her ill-will,and she was angry with the conqueror who had spared him so foolishly whenin his power. What a heart must this be of hers that could only quench itsresentment in blood! Yet he loved her none the less. How the fair roundarm, and the stately head, and the turn of the white shoulder maddened himwith a longing that was almost akin to rage. He caught her hand, andpressed it fervently to his lips.
"How can I please you?" he exclaimed, and his voice trembled with the only_real_ emotion he perhaps had ever felt. "Oh! Valeria, you know that Ilove the very ground you tread on."
She bade Myrrhina bring her some embroidery on which the girl was busied,and thus effectually checked any further outpouring of sentiments whichare not conveniently expressed within earshot of a third person. Thewaiting-maid took her seat at her mistress's elbow, her black eyes dancingin malicious mirth.
"Is that all you have to tell me?" resumed Valeria, with a smile in whichcoquetry, indifference, and conscious power were admirably blended. "Wordsare but empty air. My favour is reserved for those who win it by deeds."
"He shall die! I pledge you my word he shall die!" exclaimed the tribune,still misunderstanding the beautiful enigma on which he had set his heart."I have but spared him till I should know your pleasure, and now his fateis sealed. Ere this time to-morrow he will have crossed the Styx, andValeria will repay me with one of her brightest smiles."
A shudder she could not suppress swept over the smooth white skin, but shesuffered no trace of emotion to appear upon her countenance. She had agame to play now, and it must be played steadily and craftily to ensuresuccess. She bade Myrrhina fetch wine and fruit to place before her guest,and while the waiting-maid crossed the hall on her errand, she sufferedthe tribune to take her hand once more--nay, even returned its caressingclasp, with an almost imperceptible pressure. He was intoxicated with hissuccess, he felt he was winning at last; and the jewelled cup thatMyrrhina brought him, as he thought all too soon, remained for a whilesuspended in his hand, while he uttered fervent protestations of love,which were received with an equanimity that ought to have convinced himthey were hopelessly wasted on his idol.
"You profess much," said she, "but it costs men little to promise. We havebut one faithful lover in the empire, and he is enslaved by a barbarianprincess and another man's wife. Would _you_ have turned back from all thepleasures of Rome, to fight one more campaign against those dreadful Jews,for the sake of Berenice's sunburnt face?"
"Titus had consulted the oracle of Venus," replied the tribune, with ameaning smile; "and doubtless the goddess had promised him a doublevictory. Valeria, you know there is nothing a man will not dare to win thewoman he loves."
"Could you be as true?" she asked, throwing all the sweetness of hermellow voice, all the power of her winning eyes, into the question.
"Try me," answered he, and for one moment the man's nature was changed,and he felt capable of devotion, self-sacrifice, fidelity, all thatconstitutes the heroism of love. The next, nature reasserted her sway, andhe was counting the cost.
"I have a fancy for your barbarian," said Valeria carelessly, after apause. "Myrrhina loves him, and--and if you will give him to me I will takehim into my household."
Placidus shot a piercing glance at the waiting-maid, and that well-tutoreddamsel cast down her eyes and tried to blush. There was something, too, inValeria's manner that did not satisfy him, and yet he was willing tobelieve more than he hoped, and nearly all he wished.
"I seldom _ask_ for anything," resumed Valeria, raising her head with aproud petulant gesture of which she knew the full effect. "It is fareasier for me to grant a favour than to implore one. And yet, I know notwhy, but I do not feel it painful to beg anything to-day from you!"
A soft smile broke over the haughty face while she spoke, and she raisedher eyes and looked full into his for an instant, ere she lowered them totoy with the bracelet once more. It was the deadliest thrust she had inall her cunning of fence, the antagonist could seldom parry or withstandit; would it foil him in their present encounter? He loved her as much assuch a nature can love, but the question was one of life and death, and itwas no time for child's play now, as Esca was in possession of a secretthat might annihilate his lord in an hour. The tribune was not a man tosacrifice his very existence for a woman, even though that woman wasValeria. He hesitated, and she, marking his hesitation, turned pale, andshook with rage.
"You refuse me!" said she, in accents that trembled either with suppressedfury or lacerated feelings. "You refuse me. _You_, the only man living forwhom I would have so lowered myself. The only man I ever stooped toentreat. Oh! it is too much, too much."
She bowed her head in her hands, and as the wealth of brown hair showeredover her white shoulders, they heaved as if she wept. Myrrhina lookedreproachfully at the tribune, and muttered, "Oh! if he knew, if he only_knew_!"
In his dealings with the other sex Placidus had always been of opinionthat it is better to untie a knot than to cut it.
"Fair Valeria," said he, "ask me anything but this. I am pledged to slaythis man within twenty-four hours; will not that content you?"
The exigency of the situation, the danger of him for whom she hadconceived so wild and foolish a passion, sharpened her powers ofdeception, and made her reckless of her own feelings, her own degradation.Shaking the hair back from her temples, beautiful in her disorder and hertears, she looked with wet eyes in the tribune's face, while she replied--
"Do you think I care for the barbarian? What difference can it make toValeria if such as this Briton were slain by hecatombs? It is forMyrrhina's sake I grieve; and more, far more than this, to think that youcan refuse me anything in the whole world!"
Duplicity was no new effort for the tribune. He had often, ere now,betaken himself to this mode of defence when driven to his last ward. Heraised her hands respectfully to his lips.
"Be it as you will," said he; "I make him over to you to do with him whatyou please. Esca is your property, beautiful Valeria, from this hour."
A dark thought had flitted through his brain, that it would be no suchdifficult matter to destroy an inconvenient witness, and retain the favourof an exacting mistress at the same time. It was but a grain or two ofpoison in the slave's last meal, and he might depart in peace, a doomedman, to Valeria's mansion. He would take the chance of his silence for thefew hours that intervened, and after all, the ravings of one whose browwas already stamped with death would arouse little suspicion. Afterwardsit would be easy to pacify Valeria, and shift the blame on some over-zealous freedman, or officious client. He did not calculate on the hastewith which women jump to conclusions. Valeria clapped her hands withunusual glee. "Quick! Myrrhina," said she, "my tablets to the tribune. Heshall write the order here, and my people can go for the slave and bringhim back, before Placidus departs."
"Nay," interposed the latter in some confusion, "it is indispensable thatI go home at once. I have already lingered here too long. Farewell,Valeria. Ere the sun goes down you shall see that Placidus is proud andhappy to obey your lightest whim."
With these words, he made a low obeisance, and, ere his hostess could stophim, had traversed the outer hall, and mounted in his chariot. Valeriaseemed half stupefied by this sudden departure, but ere the rolls of hiswheels had died away, a light gleamed in her eyes, and summoning thelittle negro, who had lain unnoticed and coiled up within call during theinterview, she bade him run out and see which direction the chariot took,then she stared wildly in Myrrhina's face, and burst into a strange, half-choking laugh.
The Gladiators. A Tale of Rome and Judæa Page 24