Chapter V
A Very Old Problem
I
Drusus had at last finished the business which centred around thedeath of his uncle, old Publius Vibulanus. He had walked behind thebier, in company with the other relatives of the deceased--all verydistant, saving himself. On the day, too, of the funeral, he had beenobliged to make his first public oration--a eulogy delivered in theForum from the Rostra--in which Drusus tried to pay a graceful but notfulsome tribute to the old eques, who had never distinguished himselfin any way, except the making of money. The many clients of Vibulanus,who now looked upon the young man as their patron, had raised aprodigious din of applause during the oration, and Quintus wasflattered to feel that he had not studied rhetoric in vain. Finally,as next of kin, he had to apply the torch to the funeral pyre, andpreside over the funeral feast, held by custom nine days after theactual burning, and over the contests of gladiators which took placeat this festivity. Meanwhile Sextus Flaccus had been attending to thelegal business connected with the transfer of the dead man's estate tohis heir. All this took time--time which Drusus longed to be spendingwith Cornelia in shady and breezy Praeneste, miles from unhealthy,half-parched Rome.
Drusus had sent Agias ahead to Cornelia, as soon as the poor boy hadrecovered in the least from his brutal scourging. The lad had partedfrom his deliverer with the most extravagant demonstrations ofgratitude, which Quintus had said he could fully repay by implicitdevotion to Cornelia. How that young lady had been pleased with herpresent, Drusus could not tell; although he had sent along a letterexplaining the circumstances of the case. But Quintus had other thingson his mind than Agias and his fortunes, on the morning when at lasthe turned his face away from the sultry capital, and found hiscarriage whirling him once more over the Campagna.
Drusus had by personal experience learned the bitterness of thepolitical struggle in which he had elected to take part. The Caesariansat Rome (Balbus, Antonius, and Curio) had welcomed him to theirnumber, for young as he was, his wealth and the prestige of the Livianname were not to be despised. And Drusus saw how, as in his youngerdays he had not realized, the whole fabric of the state was in an evilway, and rapidly approaching its mending or ending. The Roman Republichad exported legions; she had imported slaves, who heaped up vastriches for their masters, while their competition reduced the freepeasantry to starvation. And now a splendid aristocracy claimed torule a subject world, while the "Roman people" that had conquered thatworld were a degenerate mob, whose suffrages in the elections werepurchasable--almost openly--by the highest bidder. The way was notclear before Drusus; he only saw, with his blind, Pagan vision, thatno real liberty existed under present conditions; that Pompeius andhis allies, the Senate party, were trying to perpetuate thearistocracy in power, and that Caesar, the absent proconsul of theGauls, stood, at least, for a sweeping reform. And so the young manmade his decision and waited the march of events.
But once at Praeneste all these forebodings were thrust into thebackground. The builders and frescoers had done their work well in hisvilla. A new colonnade was being erected. Coloured mosaic floors werebeing laid. The walls of the rooms were all a-dance with bright Cupidsand Bacchantes--cheerful apartments for their prospective mistress.But it was over to the country-house of the Lentuli that Drusus madesmall delay to hasten, there to be in bliss in company with Cornelia,
"And how," he asked, after the young lady had talked of a dozeninnocent nothings, "do you like Agias, the boy I sent you?"
"I can never thank you enough--at least if he is always as clever andwitty as he has been since I have had him," was the reply. "I wasvexed at first to have a servant with such dreadful scars all overhim; but he is more presentable now. And he has a very droll way ofsaying bright things. What fun he has made of Livia's dear mother, hisformer mistress! I shall have to give up reading any wise authors, ifit will make me grow like Valeria. Then, too, Agias has won my favour,if in no other way, by getting a thick grass stem out of the throat ofmy dear little pet sparrow, that was almost choking to death. I am sograteful to you for him!"
"I am very glad you are fond of him," said Drusus. "Has your unclecome back from Rome yet? I did not meet him while there. I was busy;and besides, to speak honestly, I have a little hesitation in seeinghim, since the political situation is so tense."
"He returns to-night, I believe," replied Cornelia. Then as if a bitapprehensive, "Tell me about the world, Drusus; I don't care to be oneof those fine ladies of the sort of Clodia,[71] who are all in thewhirl of politics, and do everything a man does except to speak in theSenate; but I like to know what is going on. There isn't going to be ariot, I hope, as there was two years ago, when no consuls wereelected, and Pompeius had to become sole magistrate?"
[71] She was a sister of Clodius, a famous demagogue, and was a brilliant though abandoned woman.
"There have been no tumults so far," said Drusus, who did not care tounfold all his fears and expectations.
"Yet things are in a very bad way, I hear," said Cornelia "Can't Caesarand my uncle's party agree?"
"I'm afraid not," replied Drusus, shaking his head. "Caesar wishes tobe consul a second time. Pompeius and he were friends when at Luccasix years ago this was agreed on. Caesar was then promised that heshould have his Gallic proconsulship up to the hour when he should beconsul, and besides Pompeius promised to have permission granted Caesarto be elected consul, without appearing as a candidate in Rome; so atno moment was Caesar to be without office,[72] and consequently he wasnot to be liable to prosecution from his enemies. All this was securedto Caesar by the laws,--laws which Pompeius aided to have enacted. Butnow Crassus the third triumvir is dead; Julia, Caesar's daughter andPompeius's wife, whom both dearly loved, is dead. And Pompeius hasbeen persuaded by your uncle and his friends to break with Caesar andrepudiate his promise. Caesar and Pompeius have long been so powerfultogether that none could shake their authority; but if one falls awayand combines with the common enemy, what but trouble is to beexpected?"
[72] Without the _imperium_--so long as a Roman official held this he was above prosecution.
"The enemy! the enemy!" repeated Cornelia, looking down, and sighing."Quintus, these feuds are a dreadful thing. Can't you," and here shethrew a bit of pathetic entreaty into her voice, "join with my uncle'sparty, and be his friend? I hate to think of having my husband atvariance with the man who stands in place of my father."
Drusus took her face between his hands, and looked straight at her.They were standing within the colonnade of the villa of the Lentuli,and the sunlight streaming between the pillars fell directly uponCornelia's troubled face, and made a sort of halo around her.
"My dearest, delectissima," said Quintus, earnestly, "I could nothonourably take your hand in marriage, if I had not done that which myconscience, if not my reason, tells me is the only right thing to do.It grieves me to hurt you; but we are not fickle Greeks, nor servileEasterns; but Romans born to rule, and because born to rule, born tocount nothing dear that will tend to advance the strength andprosperity not of self, but of the state. You would not love me if Isaid I cared more for keeping a pang from your dear heart, than forthe performance of that which our ancestors counted the one end oflife--duty to the commonwealth."
Cornelia threw her arms around him.
"You are the noblest man on the whole earth!" she cried with brightenthusiasm. "Of course I would not love you if you did what youbelieved to be wrong! My uncle may scold, may storm. I shan't care forall his anger, for you _must be_ right."
"Ah! delectissima," cried Drusus, feeling at the moment as if he werecapable of refuting senates and confounding kings, "we will not lookat too gloomy a side of the picture. Pompeius and Caesar will bereconciled. Your uncle's party will see that it is best to allow theproconsul an election as promised. We will have wise laws and moderatereforms. All will come out aright. And we--we two--will go alongthrough life as softly and as merrily as now we stroll up and down inthe cool shade of these columns; and I will turn philo
sopher andevolve a new system that will forever send Plato and Zeno, Epicurusand Timon, to the most remote and spider-spun cupboard of the mostold-fashioned library, and you shall be a poetess, a Sappho, anErinna, who shall tinkle in Latin metres sweeter than they ever singin Aiolic. And so we will fleet the time as though we were Zeus andHera on Olympus."
"Zeus and Hera!" repeated Cornelia, laughing. "You silly Graecule.[73]You may talk about that misbehaved pair, who were anything butharmonious and loving, if Homer tells truly. I prefer our own Juppiterand our Juno of the Aventine. _They_ are a staid and home-keepingcouple, worth imitating, if we are to imitate any celestials. Butnothing Greek for me."
[73] Contemptuous diminutive for Greek.
"Intolerant, intolerant," retorted Drusus, "we are all Greek, weRomans of to-day--what is left of old Latium but her half-discardedlanguage, her laws worse than discarded, perverted, her good pilum[74]which has not quite lost its cunning, and her--"
[74] The heavy short javelin carried by the Roman legionary, only about six feet long. In practised hands it was a terrible weapon, and won many a Roman victory.
"Men," interrupted Cornelia, "such as you!"
"And women," continued Drusus, "such as you! Ah! There is somethingleft of Rome after all. We are not altogether fallen, unworthy of ourancestors. Why shall we not be merry? A Greek would say that it wasalways darkest before Eos leaves the couch of Tithonus,[75] and whoknows that our Helios is not soon to dawn and be a long, long time erehis setting? I feel like throwing formality to the winds, crying'Iacchos evoe,' and dancing like a bacchanal, and singing in tipsydelight,--
[75] The "rosy-fingered Dawn" of Homer; Tithonos was her consort.
"'Oh, when through the long night, With fleet foot glancing white, Shall I go dancing in my revelry, My neck cast back, and bare Unto the dewy air, Like sportive faun in the green meadow's glee?'[76]
[76] Milman, translator.
as old Euripides sings in his 'Bacchae.' Yes, the Hellenes were rightwhen they put nymphs in the forest and in the deep. Only our blindpractical Latin eyes will not see them. We will forget that we areRomans; we will build for ourselves some cosey little Phaeacia up inthe Sabine hills beside some lake; and there my Sappho shall also bemy Nausicaa to shine fair as a goddess upon her distressed andshipwrecked Odysseus."
"Yes," said Cornelia, smiling, "a delightful idyl; but Odysseus wouldnot stay with Nausicaa."
"I was wrong," replied Drusus, as they walked arm in arm out from theportico, and down the broad avenue of stately shade trees. "You shallbe the faithful Penelope, who receives back her lord in happinessafter many trials. Your clever Agias can act as Telemachus for us."
"But the suitors whom Odysseus must slay?" asked Cornelia, enteringinto the fun.
"Oh, for them," said Drusus, lightly, "we need not search far. Whoother than Ahenobarbus?"
II
Rather late in the afternoon, a few days subsequently, the most nobleLucius Cornelius Lentulus Crus, consul-designate, and one of the mostprominent politicians of his time and nation, arrived at Praeneste;having hurried away from Rome to escape for a little while the summerheats which made the capital anything but a pleasant place forresidence. Drusus's travelling cortege would have seemed small enoughcompared with the hedge of outriders, footmen, and body-servants thatsurrounded the great man. But notwithstanding his prospectivedignities, and his present importance, Lentulus Crus was hardly animposing personality. He was a bald-pated, florid individual, withrough features, a low, flat forehead, and coarse lips. He was dressedvery fashionably, and was perfumed and beringed to an extent thatwould have been derided anywhere save in the most select circles ofRome. He was stout, and when he alighted from his carriage, he movedaway with a somewhat waddling gait, and lifted up a rasping,high-pitched voice in unsonorous complaint against a slave who letfall a parcel of baggage.
Clearly the master of the house had returned, and all the familia andfreedmen bustled about their various tasks with the unusualpromptitude and diligence which is the outcome of a healthy fear ofretribution for slackness. Lentulus went into the atrium, and therehad an angry conference with the local land-steward, over someaccounts which the latter presented. In fact, so ill was the humour ofthe noble lord, that Cornelia avoided going out from her room to meethim, and pretended to be so engrossed in her Ennius that she did nothear he had come.
This pretence, however, could not last long. Lentulus called out in asurly tone to know where his niece was, and the latter was fain topresent herself. It could not be said that the meeting betweenCornelia and her uncle was extremely affectionate. The interchange ofkisses was painfully formal, and then Lentulus demanded somewhatabruptly:--
"How have you been spending your time? With that young ne'er-do-weelson of Sextus Drusus?"
"Quintus was here this morning," said Cornelia, feeling a littlereproachful at the manner in which her uncle had spoken of her lover.
"Just back from Rome, I presume?" said Lentulus, icily, "and he mustfly over to the cote of his little dove and see that she hasn'tflitted away? He'd better have a care in his doings. He'll havesomething more serious on hand than lovemaking before long."
"I don't understand you, uncle," said Cornelia, turning rather red;"Quintus has never done anything for which he has cause to fear."
"Oh, he hasn't, eh?" retorted Lentulus. "_Mehercle!_ what donkeys youwomen are! You may go, I want to see your mother."
"She is in her own room," said Cornelia, turning her back; "I wish youwould not speak to me in that way again."
Lentulus wandered through the mazes of courts, colonnades, and themagnificently decorated and finished rooms of the villa, until he cameto the chamber of Claudia, his sister-in-law. Claudia was a woman ofthe same fashionable type as Valeria, good-looking, ostentatious,proud, selfish, devoid of any aim in life save the securing of themost vapid pleasure. At the moment, she was stretched out on a thicklycushioned couch. She had thrown on a loose dress of silken texture. Anegress was waving over her head a huge fan of long white feathers. Asecond negress was busy mixing in an _Authepsa_,--a sort of silverurn, heated by charcoal,--a quantity of spices, herbs, and water,which the lady was to take as soon as it was sufficiently steeped.Claudia had been enjoying an unusually gay round of excitement whileat Baiae, and she had but just come up to Praeneste, to recover herselfafter the exertions of a score of fashionable suppers, excursions onthe Lucrine Lake, and the attendant exhausting amusements. When herbrother-in-law entered the room, she raised her carefully tintedeyebrows, and observed with great languor:--
"So you have gotten away from Rome, at last, my Lucius?"
"For a few days," replied Lentulus, in no very affable tone; "the heatand din of the city will drive me mad! And I have had no end oftroublesome business. The senators are all fools or slaves of Caesar.That treacherous rascal, Curio, is blocking all our efforts. EvenPompeius is half-hearted in the cause. It wouldn't take much to makehim go back to Caesar, and then where would we be?"
"Where would we be?" said Claudia, half conscious of what she said,turning over wearily. "Don't talk politics, my dear brother. They aredistressingly dull. My head aches at the very word." And she held outher hand and took the golden cup of hot drink which the negressoffered her.
"Aye," replied Lentulus, not in the least subdued, "where _will_ webe, if Pompeius and Caesar become friends? If there is no war, noproscription, no chance to make a sesterce in a hurry!"
"My dear brother," said Claudia, still more languidly, and yawning atlength, as she handed back the cup, "have I not said that the meremention of politics makes my head ache?"
"Then let it," said the other, brutally; "I must have some plain wordswith you." And he pointed toward the door. The two serving-maids tookthe hint, and retired.
Claudia settled her head back on the pillows, and folded her hands asif to resign herself to a very dull tete-a-tete.
"Have you any new debts?" demanded Lentulus.
"What a tiresome question,
" murmured the lady. "No--no--yes; I owePomponius the fancier--I don't quite know how much--for my lastMaltese lap dog."
"Thank the gods that is all," went on her brother-in-law. "Now listento me. I have been living beyond my means. Last year the canvass toget on the board of guardians of the Sibylline Books--in which thatgraceless son-in-law of Cicero's, Publius Dolabella, defeated me--costa deal of money. This year I have the consulship. But it has takenevery denarius I own, and more too. All my estates are involved, sothat it will require years to redeem them, in the ordinary way."
"How extremely unfortunate!" sighed Claudia, looking dreadfully bored.
"If that was all I had to tell you," snapped back Lentulus, "I wouldnot have disturbed your ladyship's repose. But you must be soindulgent as to listen."
"Well?" said Claudia, yawning again and settling herself.
"Your late husband left some little property," began the other.
"Yes, to be sure; oh! my poor Caius!" and Claudia began to sob andwipe away the tears.
"And this property I have involved," continued Lentulus, drivingstraight ahead and never heeding the widow's display of emotions. "Itwill be impossible for me to clear away the encumbrances for somelittle time."
Claudia was excited now. She sprang up from her cushions and cried, orrather screamed:--
"Brute! Robber of orphans and widows! Heartless wretch! Have youpledged the slender fortune Caius left me, and the dowry of my poordear Cornelia?" And her voice sank into hoarseness, and she began tosob once more.
Lentulus regarded her with vexation and contempt. "_Mehercle!_ what afuss you are making! The deed is done, and there's no helping it. Icame here, not to offer excuses, but to state the facts. You may callme what you please; I _had to do it_, or lose the consulship. Now lookthe matter in the face. You must contract no more debts; I can'tdischarge the old ones. Live as reasonably as you can."
"And no more nice dinners? No more visits to Baiae?" groaned the lady,rocking to and fro.
"Yes, yes," broke in her brother-in-law, sharply, "I can still raiseenough to meet all ordinary expenses. If I let down in my household,my creditors would see I was pinched, and begin to pluck me. I canweather the storm. But look here: Cornelia must have an end with thatyoung Drusus. I can never pay her dowry, and would not have him for anephew-in-law if I could."
"Cornelia break off with Drusus?" and Claudia stopped whimpering, andsat staring at Lentulus with astonished eyes. To tell the truth shehad always liked the young Livian, and thought her daughter wasdestined for a most advantageous match.
"Certainly, my dear Claudia," said the consul-elect, half relieved tochange what had been a very awkward subject; "I can assure you thatQuintus is far from being a proper and worthy man for a husband foryour daughter. I have heard very evil reports of him while in thecity. He has cast in his lot with that gang of knavish Caesarianscentring around Marcus Antonius, Caelius, and that Caius Sallustius[77]whom our excellent censors have just ejected from the Senate, becauseof his evil living and Caesarian tendencies. Do I need to say more ofhim? A worthless, abandoned, shameless profligate!"
[77] Sallust, the well-known historian.
Claudia had a little sense of humour; and when Lentulus was workinghimself up into a righteous rage over the alleged misdoings of Drusus,she interrupted:--
"You do well to say so, my dear Lucius; for all men know that yourlife is as morally severe as your good friend Cato's."
Lentulus was silent for a moment, and bit his lip; then recommenced:--
"What I meant to say was this. Quintus Drusus and I are enemies; and Iwill not give him my niece in marriage. If we were friends, I wouldnot be able to pay the dowry. You can complain if you please; but youcan't alter my inclinations or my inability to carry out the marriageagreement."
Though Claudia in many respects was an empty woman of the world, shehad in a way a desire to promote her daughter's happiness, and, as hasbeen said, she had been extremely fond of Drusus. So she replieddiplomatically that Quintus was probably willing to wait a reasonabletime for the dowry; and that even if he had held communication withthe Caesarians, he was little more than a boy and could be shaken outof any unfortunate political opinions.
"I will be reasonable," said Lentulus, after pacing up and down for afew minutes. "I was told of his folly by Caius Calvus.[78] Calvus isas a rule accurate in his information. He said he met Drusus incompany with Balbus and Curio. But there may have been some mistake.And the lad, as you declare, may be willing to cut loose from a badcourse. If he really cares for Cornelia, he will be moderate in hisdemands for the dowry. Your suggestion is worth taking, Claudia. Letus send for him, and let him know the only terms on which he can havemy niece."
[78] A distinguished poet and orator--a friend of Catullus.
Lentulus clapped his hands, and a serving-boy came in for orders.
"Go to the villa of Quintus Drusus," commanded the master, "and tellhim that I would see him at once on business of weight."
Claudia arose, and let her maids throw over her a long white_stola_,[79] with deep flounces and an elaborate embroidery ofsea-nymphs and marine monsters. Lentulus went out into the atrium andwalked up and down, biting his nails, and trying to think out thearguments by which he would confute the political heresies of Drusus.Lentulus was too good a politician not to know that the young manwould be a valuable catch for the party that secured him; and theconsul-elect was determined, not so much to spare breaking the heartof his niece, but to rob the enemy of a valuable adherent. Corneliahad gone back to her book; but when she saw the boy go down the path,evidently on an errand to the villa of the Drusi, she rolled up thevolume, and went into the atrium.
[79] A long tunic worn by Roman ladies.
"You have sent after Quintus, uncle?" she asked.
"I have," was the reply; "I expect him shortly."
"What is the matter?" continued Cornelia, growing apprehensive.
"I wish to make the arrangements for your wedding," replied Lentulus,continuing his pacing to and fro.
"Oh, I am so glad!" cried Cornelia, cheerily. "I am so pleased youwish to make everything agreeable for Quintus and for me!"
"I hope so," was the rather gloomy response.
Presently Drusus was seen coming up the shaded path at a very briskstride. He had been playing at fencing with old Mamercus, and his facewas all aglow with a healthy colour; there was a bright light in hiseye. When he saw Cornelia in the doorway he gave a laugh and brokeinto a run, which brought him up to her panting and merry.
Then as he saw Lentulus he paused, half ashamed of his display ofboyish ardour, and yet, with a smile and a gracious salutation, askedthe older man if he was enjoying good health, and congratulated him onhis election.
The consul-designate was a little disarmed by this straightforwardmode of procedure. He dropped unuttered the elaborate exordium he hadbeen preparing on the tendency of young men to be led astray byspeciously pleading schemers, and found himself replying mildly toquestions about himself and various old friends of his, whom Drusushad known as a boy before he went to Athens. But finally the young maninterrupted this pacific discourse with the query:--
"And, most noble Lentulus, what is the business on which you sent forme? So far as I am able, the uncle of Cornelia has but to command."
Lentulus glanced at Claudia, as if expecting her to open a delicatesubject; but that excellent lady only fingered her _palla_,[80] andgave vent to a slight cough. Cornelia, whose fears had all passedaway, stood beside Drusus, with one arm resting on his shoulder,glancing pertly from one man to the other. Lentulus began:--
[80] A shawl worn over the stola.
"I am very sorry to tell you, Quintus, that I fear your wedding withCornelia cannot be celebrated as soon as you hoped."
"Must be postponed!" exclaimed the young man, in alarm; and Corneliadropped her arm, and stared at her uncle in dismay.
"I fear so," said Lentulus, dryly. "I have done my best to husband thefortune Caius left his
daughter; but, as perhaps you know, I investeda very large part of it in the tax farming syndicate for fartherSpain. The speculation seemed safe, but local wars have so reduced theprofits that they amount to nothing, and it will be some time beforethe principal is set free. Of course, in ordinary times I would makeup the sum from my own means, but I have had very heavy expenseslately; consequently, I fear you cannot marry Cornelia until I am in aposition to pay over her dowry."
Drusus burst out into a hearty, boyish laugh.
"My dear uncle," cried he, "for do let me call you so, I would haveyou know that when I take Cornelia I have dowry sufficient. Thanks toold Vibulanus's will, I may call myself passing wealthy. As far as Iam concerned, you may pay over the marriage portion to my heirs, if soyou wish."
Lentulus seemed considerably relieved. Claudia broke out with loudejaculations to the effect that Drusus, she always knew, was agenerous, affectionate fellow, and she loved him dearly. Cornelia,however, looked disturbed, and presently exclaimed:--
"It isn't right, Quintus, that I should come into your house with nota sesterce in my own name, as if you had married some low farmer'sdaughter."
"_Phy!_ pish!" replied Drusus. "You always scold the Greeks, my goodmistress, and yet, like them, you hold that a marriage between peopleof unequal means is unhappy. A penny for your scruples! I have moremoney to-day than I know what to do with. Besides, if it will make youhappier, your uncle can doubtless pay over the dowry before a greatwhile."
"It's certainly very kind of you, Quintus," said Lentulus (who hadquite made up his mind that if the young man could wait for what was avery tidy fortune, through sheer affection for Cornelia, he would bepliable enough in the political matter), "not to press me in thisaffair. Rest assured, neither you nor my niece will be the losers inthe end. But there's one other thing I would like to ask you about.From what Calvus told me in Rome, Curio and certain other still worse_Populares_[81] were trying to induce you to join their abominablefaction. I trust you gave those men no encouragement?"
[81] The party in opposition, since the time of Tiberius Gracchus, to the Senate party--Optimates; at this time the _Populares_ were practically all Caesarians.
Drusus was evidently confused. He was wishing strongly that Corneliawas away, and he could talk to her uncle with less constraint. He feltthat he was treading on very dangerous ground.
"It is true," said he, trying painfully to answer as if the words costhim no thought. "Antonius had met many of my father's old comrades inGaul, and they had sent a number of kind messages to me. Then, too,Balbus invited me to a dinner-party and there I met Curio, and a verypleasant time we had. I cannot recall that they made any specialefforts to enlist me as a partisan."
In this last, Drusus spoke truly; for he had already thrown in his lotwith the Caesarian cause. But Lentulus knew enough of the case torealize that he was receiving not the whole truth but only a half; andbeing a man of a sharp temper that was under very imperfect control,threw diplomacy to the winds, and replied vehemently: "Don't attemptto cover up your folly! I know how you have put yourself in the powerof those conspirators. Are you planning to turn out another Catilina?"
"My dear sir," expostulated Drusus, doing his best to retain hisoutward calm, "I cannot understand of what fault I have become guilty.Is it wrong in Rome to accept a kindly invitation from an old familyfriend to a dinner? Am I responsible for the persons the host summonedto meet me there?"
Drusus had been simply sparring to ward off the real point at issue;like many persons he would not assert his convictions and motives tillfairly brought to bay. But that moment came almost instantly.
"Don't equivocate! _Mehercle!_" cried Lentulus, getting thoroughlyangry. "Can't you speak, except to lie and quibble before my face?Have you joined the gang Curio is rallying for Caesar?"
Drusus was losing his own patience now.
"Yes! And we shall shortly see whether the Republic is to be longerruined by incompetence and corruption!"
"Uncle! Quintus!" implored Cornelia, forcing herself between them, andcasting out of her wide-open eyes on each a look full of distress."Don't contend! For my sake be friends!"
"For your sake!" raged Lentulus, his florid face growing redder andredder. "I will take care to keep you out of the clutches of a man whodeliberately chooses to associate with all that is base and villanous.Until your handsome lover throws over connections with Caesar and hisfellow-conspirators, let him never ask for your hand!"
"Sir," burst in Drusus, flushing with passion, "do you dare to set atnaught the will of your brother and its express commands? Dare youwithhold from me what is legally my own?"
"Legally?" replied Lentulus, with sharp scorn. "Don't use that word toa consul-elect, who has the whole Senate and Pompeius behind him. Lawsare very dangerous tools for a young man to meddle with in a case likethis. You will be wise not to resort to the courts."
"You defy the law!" thundered Drusus, all the blood of his fightingancestors tingling in his veins. "Do you say that to a Livian; to theheir of eight consuls, two censors, a master of the horse, a dictator,and three triumphators? Shall not _he_ obtain justice?"
"And perhaps," said Lentulus, sinking into an attitude of irritatingcoldness, "you will further press your claim on the ground that yourmother was a Fabian, and the Fabii claim the sole right to sacrificeto Hercules on the Great Altar[82] in the Cattle-market by theFlaminian Circus, because they are descended from Hercules andEvander. I think the Cornelian gens can show quite as many death-masksin its atria, and your mock heroics will only stamp you as a very badtragedian."
[82] _Ara Maxima_.
"Uncle! Quintus!" implored Cornelia again, the tears beginning tostart from her eyes. "Cease this dreadful quarrel. Go away until youcan talk calmly."
"Quintus Livius," shouted Lentulus, dropping the "Drusus," a part ofthe name which was omitted in formal address, "you can choose here andnow. Forswear your Caesarian connections, or consider my niece'sbetrothal at an end!"
Drusus stood looking in blank dismay from one to the other of thelittle company. Claudia had started to speak, but closed, her lipswithout uttering a word. Lentulus faced him, hot, flushed, and with acynical smile of delight, at the infliction of mental torture, playingover his face. Cornelia had dropped down upon a chair, buried herpretty face in her hands, and was sobbing as if her heart would break.It was a moment Drusus would not soon forget. The whole scene in theatrium was stamped upon his memory; the drops of the fountain seemedfrozen in mid-air; the rioting satyr on the fresco appeared to bestruggling against the limitations of paint and plaster to completehis bound; he saw Cornelia lift her head and begin to address him, butwhat she said was drowned by the buzzing and swirl which unsteadiedthe young man's entire faculties. Drusus felt himself turning hot andcold, and in semi-faintness he caught at a pillar, and leaned upon it.He felt numbed mentally and physically. Then, by a mental reaction,his strong, well-balanced nature reasserted itself. His head cleared,his muscles relaxed their feverish tension, he straightened himselfand met the cool leer of Lentulus with a glance stern and high; such aglance as many a Livian before him had darted on foe in Senate orfield of battle.
"Lucius Cornelius," said he, his voice perfectly under command, "doyou propose to defy law and right and refuse me the hand of yourniece, unless I do your will?"
Lentulus thought that in this unimpassioned speech he detected thepremonitions of a capitulation on the part of Drusus, and with a voiceof ill-timed persuasion, replied, "Be reasonable, Drusus; you haveeverything to gain and nothing to lose by not thwarting my wishes."
"Your wishes!" retorted Drusus, with a menacing step forward. "Yourwishes! You are consul-designate. You have the Senate, you have yourtool, Pompeius, you have the gangs of gladiators and street ruffiansand all the machinery of your political clubs to invoke to defy thelaw! I grant it; but though you deny me Cornelia, though by yourmachinations you bring me any other loss or shame, the grandson of themurdered Marcus Drusus will do that which is right in his
own eyes,and accept no mandate from you or any man, against his will!"
"Cornelia," cried Claudia, infinitely distressed, "speak to Quintus,reason with him, implore him, pray him not to resist the requests ofyour uncle."
"Yes, girl!" said Lentulus, savagely, turning livid with sheer rage,"use all your arts on that graceless would-be conspirator now, or seehis face no more!"
But Cornelia interposed in a most summary and unexpected manner. Herface was very white; her nails pressed into her smooth arms, herbreath came thick and spasmodically, and her eyes flamed with theintense passion of a strong spirit thoroughly aroused.
"Go, Quintus," she cried, with a strained, loud voice, "go, and neversee my face again, until my uncle repents of his cruel madness! He ismaster here; only woe will come from defying him. Do not anger himfurther; depart."
"Depart?" burst from Drusus.
"Depart!" replied Cornelia, desperately; "if you stay I shall go mad.I shall beg you to yield,--which would be base of me; and if you heardmy prayers, it would be more base in you."
"Fool," shouted Lentulus, "don't you know you will be the first I'llmark for slaughter in the next proscription? You, mistress, go to yourroom, if you cannot keep a civil tongue! And you, sir, get you gone,unless you wish the slaves to cast you out."
"Farewell, Cornelia!" gasped the young man; and he turned his back,and started out into the colonnade.
"Oh, Quintus, return!" shrieked Claudia, wringing her hands. "All thegods blast you!" muttered Lentulus, quivering with fury; then heshouted at the top of his shrill, harsh voice: "My enemies are myenemies. You are warned. Take care!"
"And do you take warning! A Livian never forgets! _Mars regat!_ LetWar rule!" cried Drusus, turning at the vestibule, and brandishing aknotted fist. Lentulus stared after him, half furious, halfintimidated. But Claudia glanced back into the room from the justemptied doorway, and gave a scream.
"The servants! Help! Water! Cornelia has fainted!"
III
Drusus strode down the long avenue of shade trees. The gardener staredafter him, as the young man went by, his face knitted with a scowl ofcombined pain and fury, with never a word in reply to the rustic'skindly salutation.
"_Papae!_"[83] muttered the man, "what has befallen Master Quintus? Hashe fallen out with her ladyship?"
[83] "Strange! Marvellous!"
Drusus kept on, looking neither to the right hand nor to the left,until he found himself past the boundary stone between his own estateand that of the Lentuli. Then he stopped and passed his hand over hisforehead. It was damp with an unhealthy sweat. His hands and framewere quivering as if in an ague. He seated himself on a stone bench bythe roadway, and tried to collect his faculties.
"Bear up, Drusus; be a Livian, as you boast yourself," he declaimedfrantically to himself. "Cornelia shall still be yours! All things arepossible to one who is young and strong, with a clear conscience!"
If this self-debate did not actually stimulate cheerfulness, it atleast revived the embers of hope; and Drusus found himself trying tolook the situation fairly in the face.
"You have thrown away your right to marry the dearest, loveliest, andnoblest girl in the world," he reflected bitterly. "You have made animplacable enemy of one of the most powerful men of the state. Inshort, your happiness is gone, and perhaps your life is in danger--andfor what? A dream of reform which can never be realized? A madconspiracy to overthrow the commonwealth? Is Caesar to be saviour ordespot? For what have you sacrificed yourself?"
Lentulus, he knew perfectly well, was really above law. No jury wouldever convict the leader of the Senate party. Drusus could nevercontract lawful marriage with Cornelia, so long as her guardianwithheld consent. And for one moment he regretted of hisdetermination, of his defiance. Then came reaction. Drusus called upall his innate pride, all the strength of his nobler inspirations.
"I have set my face toward that which is honourable and right," criedDrusus to his own soul; "I will not doubt. Whether there be gods, Icannot tell. But this I know, the wise and good have counted naughtdear but virtues; and toward this end I will strive."
And by a strong effort at self-command, he forced himself to arisefrom the bench and walk back to his own estate, and soon he waspouring the whole story into the sympathetic ears of Mamercus,Pausanias, and other worthy retainers.
The scene that had taken place at the villa of the Lentuli, soon wasreported through all the adjacent farms; for several slaves had beenthe mute witnesses of the angry colloquy, and had not been slow topublish the report. The familia of Drusus was in a tumult ofindignation. All the brawny Germans and Africans whom the young masterhad released from the slave-prison, and had since treated withkindness, listened with no unfavourable ear to the proposal whichTitus Mamercus--more valorous than discreet--was laying before them:to arm and attack Lentulus in his own villa, and so avenge their lordin a summary fashion.
But the elder Mamercus dashed the martial ambitions of his son.
"Fool," cried the veteran, emphatically, when the project came to hisears, "do you wish to undo yourself and Quintus too? No power short ofJove could protect you and him, if aught were to befall Lentulus, inthe way you propose."
"But what can we do, father?" replied Titus, sorry to see his schemefor vengeance blocked; "shall that despicable tyrant defy law andjustice, and refuse to give Mistress Cornelia to Quintus?"
"Silence your folly!" thundered the other, who was himself quitenonplussed over the situation, and felt Titus's bold chatter wouldgoad him into something desperate.
The truth was, neither Pausanias nor any other of Quintus's friendscould see any means of coercing the consul-elect into receding fromhis position. He was practically above law, and could not with safetybe attacked in any way. Pausanias could only counsel moderation andpatience; perhaps some fortunate chance would alter matters. Drususspent the evening in a pathetically forced attempt to read hisCallimachus. He was weary physically, and intended to retire early.AEmilia, who felt sorry enough for the plight of her rather distantcousin, had tried to console him and divert him with guitar[84] music,and had called in an itinerant piper,[85] but these well-meant effortsat amusement had been dreary failures. Drusus had just bidden hisbody-servants undress him, when he was informed that Agias had comefrom the Lentulan villa, and wished to see him.
[84] _Cithara_.
[85] Itinerant pipers have existed in Italy from earliest times; they still survive, albeit in alien lands and with less tuneful instruments.
Agias was full of protestations of delight at beholding hisintercessor and ransomer. Drusus could hardly recognize in thesupple-limbed, fair-complexioned, vivacious lad before him, thewretched creature whom Alfidius had driven through the streets.Agias's message was short, but quite long enough to make Drusus's palecheeks flush with new life, his sunken eyes rekindle, and his languorvanish into energy. Cornelia would be waiting for him by the greatcypress in the gardens of the Lentulan villa, as soon as the moonrose.
Drusus prepared himself hurriedly, and refused all the entreaties ofTitus to take him along as a body-guard. Time coursed on winged feet,as the young man hastened out into the night, and half ran down thefamiliar pathway. The day had been only moderately warm for theseason, and the night was cool, though not cold. A soft east wind wasblowing down from the distant Apennines, and all the trees wererustling gently. Up to the giant arm of a gnarled oak, fluttered anowl, which hooted noisily as the young man hurried beneath. Thecrickets were chirping. A little way off was a small stream plungingover a dam; from it came a liquid roar; and the little wall of whitespray was just visible in the darkness. Out from the orchards driftedthe fragrant scent of apple, pear, plum, and quince. Still more sweetwas the breeze, as it swept over the wide-stretching rose-beds.Overhead Orion and Arcturus were glittering in that hazy splendourwhich belongs to the heavens on a summer's night.
Drusus kept on, only half noting the beauty of the darkness. When heentered the groves of the Lentulan villa, almost all light failed h
im,and but for his intimate knowledge--from boyhood--of the wholelocality, he could never have kept the path. Then the moonlight beganto stream up in the east, and between the trees and thickets lay thelong, yellow bars of brightness, while all else was still in gloom.Drusus pushed on with confidence, and soon the gurgle of the tinycataract told him that he was near the old cypress. A few steps more,and a figure rose from out the fern thicket. It was Cornelia. Her hairwas tumbling loosely over her shoulders; she wore a soft, light-bluedress that covered her arms and her feet. In the moonlight her faceand hands appeared as bloodless as white marble.
"I knew you would come, Quintus," she cried. "I couldn't say farewellto you, in the presence of my uncle!"
"My beautiful!" cried Drusus; and he caught her in his arms.
The moments that followed were as bitter-sweet as may be conceivable.Each knew that they had small hope of an honourable realization oftheir love one for another; that the moment of parting would sooncome. But for the instant they were in Elysium, caught out of mortalcare and mortal sorrow, and knowing nothing but the pure delight ofthe other's presence. Then, at last, their talk became lessenraptured; the vision of Olympus faded little by little; the sternreality confronted them in all its seriousness.
"Cornelia," said Quintus, at length, "you are still a very youngwoman. This day's heart-breakings may, perhaps, be long painful toyou; but the pangs will grow faint in time. You and I may stillcherish fondness in our hearts for each other, but how dare wereasonably hope for more? Evil times are at hand. If your uncle'sparty prevail in the struggle, my ruin is assured. But not yours.There are many worthy men who would be proud to take in marriage theniece of the next consul; and with one of these you can live happily.Do not try to forget me. I don't ask that. But do not let mymisfortune cast a shadow over your dear life. Marry some honourableman. Only think kindly of me sometimes."
They had been sitting beside the brooklet, on the soft green-sward.Cornelia had been resting both her hands in Drusus's, but now she drewthem back, and sprang to her feet, as if swept away by a gust ofanger.
"How dare you!" she cried, "how dare you bid me throw away all that myheart has turned on, and my hopes depended on, and my imaginationdreamed of, since our fathers were slain side by side; and moreespecially since you came back from Athens? Why might not I bid yourenounce your adherence to Caesar's cause, and say, 'There is no needof blasting your career by such a sacrifice; remember Caesar and hisparty kindly, wish them well, but do not dwell too much thereon;submit cheerfully to what is inevitable'? Shall I argue thus? Have Iargued thus? If you will, abandon me, and wed some other maiden, andmany there are, fair, wealthy, noble, who will be glad to be given inmarriage to a Livius Drusus. But till you thus repudiate your father'swill, no power of gods or of men shall drive me to violate that ofmine."
"Cornelia," said Drusus, in a husky voice, "do you know what you aresaying? What resistance to threats and unkind treatment your resolvewill mean?"
"I both know the future and accept it," answered the maiden firmly,looking fairly into his face.
"Then by all the powers of earth, sky, and Hades!" cried the youngman, lifting one arm toward heaven, and throwing the other about hissweetheart, "I will defy Lentulus, defy Pompeius, defy Senate, army,mob, or any other human might. Hitherto I have thought to play thepatriot in espousing Caesar's cause. Now let love and fury fire myardour. When the party of violence and tyranny falls, then too willfall the power of Lentulus to outrage your right and mine! Ours shallbe a triumph of Venus as well as of Mars, and until that time, may youand I endure faithful unto our fathers, ourselves, and one another!"
Hardly had he spoken ere loud voices were heard calling through thegrove. Torches were glaring among the trees, and the harsh tones ofLentulus burst out:--
"Take the wretched girl into the house when you find her; but as forher lover, let him not escape!"
"My uncle!" groaned Cornelia, quivering with terror; "one of my maidshas betrayed me! Flee! run! He has called out all his slaves; theywill kill you!"
"Kill me?" gasped Drusus, incredulously; "commit deliberate murder?"
"Yes," moaned Cornelia; "he dares anything. He is all fury andviolence. Escape! Do not throw yourself away in vain!"
The lights flashed nearer; the slaves were shouting and blunderingthrough the bushes.
"Two philippi to the man who strikes Drusus down!" bawled Lentulus.
It was no time for delay and affectionate leave-taking. The young manthrew his arms around Cornelia, kissed her once, twice, and thenbounded into the thicket. A moment later several of the servants camesplashing over the little stream, and found Cornelia alone beside thegreat cypress, pale and trembling and sobbing. Drusus caught one lastsight of her, surrounded by the torches of the pursuers. Then hestruck off into the grove, and thanks to his perfect local knowledgeeasily avoided meeting Lentulus or his slaves. Lentulus he wouldgladly have confronted alone. What would have followed, the athleticyoung man could only surmise grimly; but he was unarmed, and forCornelia's sake he must take no risks.
Close to the confines of his own land he met the Mamerci, father andson, and several slaves and freedmen, all armed and anxious to knowwhether the din that had been raised over at the Lentulan villabetokened any danger to their young master.
Drusus satisfied them that he had suffered no injury. The personalperil through which he had passed brought a reaction of excitementwhich raised his spirits, and he went to bed in a mood at leasttolerably cheerful. If he could not enjoy his love, he had at leastsomething else to live for--vengeance; and he told himself that he hada whole mature lifetime left in which to make Lentulus repent of hisfolly and tyrannical cruelty. He awoke late the next morn in a calmframe of mind, and was able to receive with outward equanimity thenews that early in the morning Lentulus had taken his sister-in-lawand niece, and a large part of his household, back to Rome. This wasonly to have been expected, and Drusus listened to the informationwithout useless comment.
A Friend of Cæsar: A Tale of the Fall of the Roman Republic. Time, 50-47 B.C. Page 6