by Mór Jókai
CHAPTER IX.
As Glyceria had learned through her spies, Manlius was summoned by thelictors to Carinus' presence that very day. But instead of waiting forthe command, he went to the palace before he received it.
Instead of his plain military costume he had donned the ample floweredsilk toga worn by the fashionable dandies of the time, rubbed his hairwith perfumed ointments, loaded his fingers with gems, adorned hisankles with circlets, and even ornamented his toes with rings whichglittered between the thongs of his sandals, while he had scatteredlittle red spots over his face till it looked as freckled as theCaesar's. So, with an indolent, loitering step and a coquettishcarriage of the head, he entered the vestibule of the imperialpalace, which was already swarming with courtiers similarly attired,who gazed enviously at the youth's unusually magnificent costume--onlythey could not understand why he had painted freckles on his face.Manlius bowed to the floor before Carinus--a form of salutation whichhad been transplanted to Rome from the Persian court. Even Aevius wasforced to admit that no one understood how to bow with so muchhumility as Manlius. Then, seizing a corner of the imperial mantle, hekissed it with the devout fervour which only the most pious Jews showin kissing the thora.
Carinus wished to appear stern.
"You have already been in Rome four days, and this is the first timeyou have come to me," he said reproachfully.
"O glorious Augustus," replied Manlius in an inimitably sweet tone; "Ihave already been ten times in your atrium to deliver the news Ibring from Asia, but I learned as often that you were enjoying thedelights envied by the gods, and I am not one of those rude soldierswho recklessly force their way in with their messages of supposedimportance, and rob you of hours of bliss which can never beregained."
"Good. You are a man of worth; but what tidings do you bring fromPersia?"
"There is no life anywhere in the world, O Augustus, except where youare. All the lands of the earth exist only to make the contrastbetween them and Rome the sharper. I will not weary you with tiresometales of war and battles. Wars merely serve to lessen the number ofdissatisfied people, so why should I disturb your repose with mydescriptions?"
"You are right, Manlius. Speak of other things."
"My experiences are at your command. I saw the marvels of Barbarianlands, and always thought of you. In Africa I saw horses whose shiningskins were streaked with stripes, animals whose like no Imperator hasever shown in our circus games. I left orders with the commandant ofAlexandria to send several of them to you. In the Indian seas a kindof snail was discovered, which fastened itself to the rocks by meansof threads as fine as a cobweb. From these threads the people theremanufacture a fabric even more brilliant than _sericum_, and I broughta _velamen_ of it for you, such as only the princes of that countrywear."
As he spoke, Manlius gave the Imperator a superb textile which he hadbrought with him from India in the hope that it would be Sophronia'sbridal veil.
The Caesar was filled with admiration at the sight of the unusuallybrilliant, delicate texture.
"Manlius, I appoint you Senator."
The courtiers began to stare enviously at Manlius. As the barber, whowas the most jealous of any sign of favour from the Caesar, could findno fault with the _velamen_, he vented his anger upon Manlius' face.
"Where did you get those freckles, Manlius? You look as if the flieshad played an evil trick with your features."
"You are a barber, Marcius. I painted these freckles. It is a veryaristocratic fashion which I learned at the court of Persia."
"Is it the fashion there to wear freckles?" asked Carinus, whosecheeks Marcius was in the habit of painting white and pink.
"Only among the aristocrats. It is the distinguishing mark between thedignitaries of the kingdom and the common people. True, it requires amore refined taste than yours, Marcius, to appreciate this; one mustunderstand, too, why and in what degree these freckles embellish theface. The empty, smooth face, like yours, for instance, which, whenone looks at it, shows only white and pink, is the beauty of theplebeian; Apollo's countenance is freckled."
Manlius knew that Carinus liked to be called Apollo.
The courtiers were horrified at this bold assertion.
"I repeat that Apollo's face is adorned with freckles. For Apollo'simage is the sun, and is not the sun itself full of spots? Is not thesky strewn with stars, and are not the stars the freckles of the sky,as freckles are the stars of the human face? Therefore, O Marcius, donot censure this magnificent taste of mine."
Carinus motioned to his barber to remove the paint from his face.
"Divine countenance!" cried Manlius rapturously. "O you profaners ofthe sanctuary, who conceal the freckles which the graces havescattered with lavish generosity over these features. Come, friends,let this face be the model of ours."
And the courtiers instantly sat down in turn before Marcius and hadfreckles painted on their faces that they might resemble Carinus.
From that moment it was the fashion in Rome to have freckles paintedon the face.
"Manlius," said the Caesar, "I appoint you Prefect of Rome."
All the imperial favourites were supplanted by the young Tribune.
Aevius was in despair.
"To what shall I henceforth compare the Caesar in my poems, since rosesand lilies are no longer beautiful?" he wailed.
"Compare him to the royal panther," Manlius advised. And the poet wascontent.
At this moment Mesembrius arrived, and hearing in the atrium thatManlius had already entered, hastened after him.
On the threshold he caught a glimpse of the young soldier and startedback.
"Is that actor Manlius?" he asked himself, gazing at his silk toga andfreckled face. "Have you seen Glyceria?" he whispered.
"Yes," replied Manlius.
"Have you killed her?"
"No."
"Then I understand the change. Hitherto only caterpillars becamebutterflies; in you a lion has undergone the change. I pity you."
The old Senator, as he spoke, moved forward with dignified bearingand, leaning on his crutches, stood before the Augustus.
"Augustus Carinus, I have come to bring a charge, or, if it pleasesyou better, to beseech a favour. I had an only daughter----"
"You have another," interrupted Aevius.
"I say I had an only daughter. She was the joy of my life, the prop ofmy old age. Allured by a new religion, this girl and her companionswere captured at the meeting place of the Christians. I will not arguewith you over matters of belief, Carinus, but I entreat you to listento the petition of a man who has grown grey in the service of Rome,and restore my only child."
Carinus raised himself indolently from his _lectisternium_ andwhispered a few words to his eunuch. Then he turned to Mesembrius.
"Senator, we do not know whether your daughter is among the capturedChristians; had we been aware of it we should have delivered her up toyou long ago. She was beautiful, you said?"
"I did not say so, O Lord."
"I have so understood. But unfortunately I must inform you that abeautiful girl in this band of Christians killed herself last nightin prison."
"That was not my daughter. Sophronia could not forget her grey-hairedfather, whom her loss would drive to despair."
"Look at the corpse, Senator, and if it is not your daughter, whichfrom my heart I hope, I will have her brought here at once and she canthen return with you."
Mesembrius was so startled by this unexpected favour that he forgot toexpress his thanks for it.
The eunuch returned, followed by two slaves, who bore on a bier acorpse covered with a large pall.
Aevius drew it from the body.
Mesembrius pressed his hand upon his heart; the blood rushed to histemples; his breath failed; he could not move; he stood motionless fora time, then, with a wild cry of anguish, flung himself upon thelifeless form.
"My child! My dear, dear child!"
"So I have him to fear, too," murmured Carinus.
&nbs
p; Sobbing aloud, Mesembrius embraced the beautiful, beloved body. Deathhad restored to the face the repose, the supernatural loveliness whichhad been peculiar to it in life. It seemed as though she were sleepingand at a call would wake.
"Oh, my dear, sweet child," sobbed the old man; "why must you leave mehere? If you were resolved to die, why did you not appear to me in adream, that I might have followed you? What have I to love in thisworld now that you are no more? What is to become of me, an oldwithered tree, whose only blossoming branch has been cut off? Have youno longer one word, one smile for me? Once you were so gay, so full ofcheerful converse--oh, why must I endure this?"
The father turned neither to the Caesar nor to the courtiers; he gavefree course to his tears, burying his face in his dead daughter'swinding-sheet.
But gradually he seemed to realise that he was weeping alone, and hisdim eyes wandered around the apartment with a vague consciousness thatthere must be some one else here who owed to Sophronia's manes thetribute of tears.
There stood Manlius, with a cold, unsympathising face, talking toCarinus. Not a feature betrayed the slightest sorrow.
Mesembrius indignantly grasped the youth's arm.
"And have _your_ eyes no tears, when your bride lies murdered beforeyou?"
Seized with suspicion Carinus suddenly looked at Manlius; thecourtiers, with malicious pleasure, turned toward him.
"My bride?" asked Manlius, in a tone of astonishment. "Your mind iswandering, old Mesembrius."
"Have the Furies robbed you of your reason that you no longer rememberthat, but three days ago, you asked for my daughter's hand and I gaveit to you?"
"Your daughter's hand, certainly," replied Manlius, with unshakencalmness. "Not this daughter's here, however, but Glyceria's."
"May you be accursed!" shouted Mesembrius, with savage fury, andwithout heeding the Caesar, his dead daughter, or the dangerthreatening him, he rushed out of the hall like a madman.
This very thing saved him.
"Follow him, Galga!" shouted Carinus. "Seize him. This man's head mustbe laid at my feet."
Meanwhile Mesembrius rushed through the palace. The throng of slavesshrank back in terror at the sight of his agitated face, and allowedhim to reach the open air. His frantic words instantly gathered acrowd around him, and by the time Galga, at the head of a troop ofmounted praetorians, went in pursuit of him, the mob had attainedthreatening proportions. But the Thracian giant dashed recklesslythrough the masses of people. As he stretched his arm from the saddleto seize the old man's head and sever it from the trunk with a singlestroke of his sword, the Roman, with strength wholly unexpected in aman of his age, dealt the brown-skinned colossus such a blow with hisheavy crutch that he fell from his horse with a shattered skull.Mesembrius swung himself into the saddle at a bound, and led theinfuriated populace against the armed cohort, which was scattered in amoment, and before reinforcements arrived to quell the tumult, the oldpatrician had disappeared and was never found.