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diff --git a/6070-h/6070-h.htm b/6070-h/6070-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..869bf3f --- /dev/null +++ b/6070-h/6070-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,12212 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> + <head> + <title> + The Unwilling Vestal, by Edward Lucas White + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal; + margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; + text-align: right;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Unwilling Vestal, by Edward Lucas White + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Unwilling Vestal + +Author: Edward Lucas White + +Release Date: July, 2004 [EBook #6070] +Last Updated: November 20, 2016 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE UNWILLING VESTAL *** + + + + +Produced by An Anonymous Volunteer and David Widger + + + + + +</pre> + <div style="height: 8em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h1> + THE UNWILLING VESTAL + </h1> + <h3> + A Tale of Rome under the Caesars + </h3> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + By Edward Lucas White + </h2> + <h4> + Author of “El Supremo” + </h4> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <blockquote> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Original Project Gutenberg editor’s note: First published in + 1918, this book went through sixteen printings before it + ceased to be a money-maker for its publishers. It provides a + fascinating glimpse into a world most of us know nothing + about. + + It has been slightly re-edited for ease in reading as an + E-text. The author’s spellings have been left alone even when + they are incorrect in English English, American English, and + Latin. +</pre> + </blockquote> + <p class="toc"> + <big><b>CONTENTS</b></big> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0002"> PUBLISHERS’ NOTE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_PREF"> PREFACE BY AUTHOR </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0005"> <b>BOOK I—THE RAGE OF DISAPPOINTMENT</b> + </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER I - PRECOCITY </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER II - SIEVES </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER III - STUTTERING </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER IV - PESTILENCE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER V - ESCAPADES </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0006"> CHAPTER VI - NOTORIETY </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0007"> CHAPTER VII - AUDIENCE </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0013"> <b>BOOK II—THE REVOLT OF DESPONDENCY</b> + </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0008"> CHAPTER VIII - SCOURGING </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0009"> CHAPTER IX - ALARMS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0010"> CHAPTER X - CONFERENCE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0011"> CHAPTER XI - FAREWELL </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0012"> CHAPTER XII -OBSERVANCES </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0013"> CHAPTER XIII - PERVERSITY </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0014"> CHAPTER XIV - AMAZEMENT </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0021"> <b>BOOK III—THE REBELLION OF DESPERATION</b> + </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0015"> CHAPTER XV - REHABILITATION </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0016"> CHAPTER XVI - VAGARY </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0017"> CHAPTER XVII - RECKLESSNESS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0018"> CHAPTER XVIII - FURY </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0019"> CHAPTER XIX - COMFORT </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0027"> <b>BOOK IV—THE REVULSION OF DELIGHT</b> + </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0020"> CHAPTER XX - ACCUSATION </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0021"> CHAPTER XXI - ORDEAL </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0022"> CHAPTER XXII - TRIUMPH </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0023"> CHAPTER XXIII - SALVAGE </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + JACKET BLURB: + </h2> + <h3> + EDWARD LUCAS WHITE Author of “El Supremo” + </h3> + <p> + This book presents, for the first time in fiction, a correct and adequate + account of the Vestal Virgins, their powers and privileges, as well as of + many strange Roman customs and beliefs. + </p> + <p> + The author combines the power of writing a rattling good story with a + sound and full knowledge of conditions of the life which he is depicting. + Mr. White brings to the history of Rome all the picturesqueness and power + which made his South American novel, “El Supremo,” so remarkable. The + result is a vivid pageant of imperial Rome and Roman life at the height of + its power and splendor. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + PUBLISHERS’ NOTE + </h2> + <p> + Readers of <i>The Unwilling Vestal</i> who are not acquainted at first + hand with the lighter and more intimate literature of the Romans may be + surprised to discover that the lights of Roman high society talked slang + and were interested in horseracing. Most writers who have tried to draw + Roman society for us have been either ignorant or afraid of these facts. + The author of <i>The Unwilling Vestal</i> is neither. He presents to us + the upper class Romans exactly as they reveal themselves in the literature + of their day; excitable, slangy, sophisticated and yet strangely + credulous, enthusiastic sportsmen, hearty eaters and drinkers, and + unblushingly keen on the trail of the almighty denarius. In a word, very + much like the most up-to-date American society of to-day. + </p> + <p> + The Publishers feel that it is only fair that it should be made plain that + the great difference between the Roman society folk of <i>The Unwilling + Vestal</i> and those appearing in other novels is due to the author’s + thorough acquaintance with the people and the period about which he is + writing. + </p> + <p> + Incidentally, the Publishers wish to thank Mr. C. Powell Minnegerode, the + Curator of the Corcoran Gallery of Art of Washington, D. C., for his + permission to reproduce Leroux’ beautiful painting “The Vestal Tuccia” for + use on the wrapper of the volume. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_PREF" id="link2H_PREF"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + PREFACE BY AUTHOR + </h2> + <p> + The title of this romance is likely to prejudice any reader against it. + There exists a popular delusion that fiction with a classical setting is + bound to be dull and lumbering, that it is impossible for it to possess + that quality of bravura slangily denominated “punch.” Anybody will be + disabused of that notion upon reading this story. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + PG EDITOR’S NOTE: The slang is now, alas, over ninety years + old. It now sounds even more stilted than the classical + language does. +</pre> + <p> + On the other hand, after having read it, almost any one will be likely to + imagine that a novel with so startling a heroine and with incidents so + bizarre cannot possibly be based on any sound and genuine knowledge of its + background; that the author has conjured out of his fantasy not only his + plot and chief characters, but also their world; that he has created out + and out not merely his Vestal, but his Vestals, their circumstances and + the life which they are represented as leading: that he has manufactured + his local color to suit as he went along. + </p> + <p> + Nothing could be further from the actuality. The details of rule and + ritual, of dress and duties, of privileges and punishments are set forth + in accordance with a full first-hand and intimate acquaintance with all + available evidence touching the Vestals; including all known inscriptions + relating to them, every passage in Roman or Greek literature in any way + concerning them, the inferences drawn from all existing or recorded + sculptures and coins which add to our knowledge of them, and every + treatise written since the revival of learning in Europe in which the + Vestals are discussed. The story contains no preposterous anachronisms or + fatuous absurdities. Throughout, it either embodies the known facts or is + invented in conformity with the known facts. + </p> + <p> + Any one to whom chapter twenty-one seems incredible should consult an + adequate encyclopedia article or an authoritative treatise on physics and + read up on the surface tension of liquids. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_4_0005" id="link2H_4_0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + BOOK I—THE RAGE OF DISAPPOINTMENT + </h2> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER I - PRECOCITY + </h2> + <p> + “Brinnaria!” he said severely, “you will marry any man I designate.” + </p> + <p> + “I never shall marry any man,” she retorted positively, “except the man I + want to marry.” + </p> + <p> + She gazed unflinchingly into her father’s imperious eyes, wide-set on + either side of a formidable Roman nose. His return gaze was less incensed + than puzzled. All his life he had been habituated to subserviency, had + never met opposition, and to find it from his youngest daughter, and she a + mere child, amazed him. As she faced him she appeared both resolute and + tremulous. He looked her up and down from the bright blue velvety leather + of her little shoes on which the gilt sole-edges and gilt laces glittered + to the red flower in her brown hair. Inside her clinging red robe the soft + outlines of her young shape swelled plump and healthy, yet altogether she + seemed to him but a fragile creature. Resistance from her was incredible. + </p> + <p> + Perhaps this was one more of her countless whims. While he considered her + meditatively he did not move his mighty arms or legs; the broad crimson + stripe down his tunic rose and fell slowly above his ample paunch and + vaster chest as his breath came evenly; on his short bull neck his great + bullet head was as moveless as if he had been one of the painted statues + that lined the walls all about. As the two regarded each other they could + hear the faint splash of the fountain in the tank midway of the courtyard. + </p> + <p> + Her father, a true Roman to his marrow, with all a Roman’s arbitrary + instincts, reverted to the direct attack. + </p> + <p> + “You will marry Pulfennius Calvaster,” he commanded. + </p> + <p> + “I will not!” she declared. + </p> + <p> + He temporized. + </p> + <p> + “Why not?” he queried. + </p> + <p> + The obstinacy faded from Brinnaria’s handsome, regular face. She looked + merely reflective. + </p> + <p> + “In the first place,” she said, “because I despise him and hate him worse + than any young man I ever knew; I would not marry Calvaster if he were the + only man left alive. In the second place, because, if all the men on earth + were courting me at once, all rich and all fascinating and Caius were poor + and anything and everything else that he isn’t, I’d marry nobody ever + except Caius. You hear me, Father. Caius Segontius Almo is the only, only + man I’ll ever marry. Nothing can shake my resolution, never.” + </p> + <p> + She was breathing eagerly, her cheeks flushed a warm red through her olive + complexion, her eyes shining till tiny specks sparkled green and yellow in + the wide brown of her big irises. + </p> + <p> + Her father’s jaw set. + </p> + <p> + “I’ve listened to you, daughter,” he said. “Now you listen to me. I have + no objections to Almo; I rather like him. I have thought of marrying you + to him; if Segontius and I had not quarreled, we might have arranged it. + There is no possibility of it now. And just now, for some reason or other, + Pulfennius is keen on arranging a marriage between you and Calvaster. His + offers are too tempting to be rejected and the chance is to good to be + missed. Our properties adjoin not only here and at Baiae, but also at + Praeneste, at Grumentum and at Ceneta. With our estates so marvellously + paired the marriage seems divinely ordained when one comes to think it + over. Don’t be a fool. Anyhow, if you insist on making trouble for + yourself, it will do you no good. My mind is made up. You are to marry + Calvaster.” + </p> + <p> + “I won’t!” Brinnaria maintained + </p> + <p> + Her father smiled, a menacing smile + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps not,” he said, “but there will be only one alternative. Unless + you agree to obey me I shall go at once to the Pontifex and offer you for + a Vestal.” + </p> + <p> + Every trace of apprehension vanished from Brinnaria’s expression. She + grinned saucily, almost impudently, at her father, and snapped her fingers + in his face. + </p> + <p> + “You can’t scare me that way, Daddy!” she mocked him. “I know better than + that. There can be only six Vestals. You can offer, if you like, but the + Emperors themselves can’t take me for a Vestal while the six are alive.” + </p> + <p> + The laugh muffled in her throat; she was fairly daunted. Never had she + seen her father’s face so dark, so threatening. Not in all her life had he + so much as spoken harshly to her; she had been his pet since she had begun + to remember. But now, for one twinkling, she feared a blow from him. She + almost shrank back from him. + </p> + <p> + He did not move and he spoke softly. + </p> + <p> + “Rabulla died this morning before dawn,” was all he said. + </p> + <p> + Instantly Brinnaria was fluttering with panic. + </p> + <p> + “You aren’t in earnest, Daddy!” she protested. “You can’t be in earnest. + You’re only fooling; you’re only trying to frighten me. You don’t really + mean it; oh, please, Daddy, say you don’t really mean it!” + </p> + <p> + “I really mean it,” her father answered heavily. “I never meant anything + more genuinely in my life. You know my influence with the Emperors and + with the Pontifex of Vesta. You know that if I made the proposal they + would disregard any rival petitioners, would override all unnecessary + formalities, would have the matter despatched at once. Unless you obey me + you will be a Vestal before sunset to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + Brinnaria was now fairly quivering with terror. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Daddy!” she quivered, “you couldn’t be so cruel. I’d rather die than + have to be a Vestal. I couldn’t imagine any life so terrible. Oh, Daddy, + please say you are not in earnest.” + </p> + <p> + He frowned. + </p> + <p> + “I swear,” he said, “that I was never more in earnest. I say it solemnly, + as sure as my name is Marcus Brinnarius Epulo, I’ll have you made a Vestal + unless you agree this moment to give up all thoughts of Almo, to obey me + about marrying Calvaster, and to be properly polite to him and + Pulfennius.” + </p> + <p> + “Daddy!” Brinnaria cried. “Only don’t have me made a Vestal and I’ll do + anything. I’ll forget there ever was an Almo. I’ll be sweet as honey to + Pulfennius till he loves me better than Secunda, and I’ll marry Calvaster; + I’ll marry anybody. Why, Daddy, I’d marry a boar pig rather than be a + Vestal.” + </p> + <p> + Her father smiled. + </p> + <p> + “I thought my little daughter would behave properly,” he soothed her, “and + you are just in time. That may be your future husband and father-in-law + coming now.” + </p> + <p> + In fact they were in a moment ushered in. Pulfennius was a tall man, lean + and loose-jointed, with straggling, greenish-gray hair; a long, uneven + head, broad at the skull and narrow at the chin; puffy, white bags of + flabby flesh under his eyes; irregular yellow teeth and sagging cheeks + that made his face look squarish. Calvaster was a mere boy, with a leaden + complexion, shifty gray eyes, thin lips, and an expression at once sly and + conceited. + </p> + <p> + “You come opportunely,” said their host after the greetings had been + exchanged, “for you happen to find me alone with the very daughter of whom + you and I were talking. This is Brinnaria.” + </p> + <p> + “This!” Pulfennius exclaimed. “This the girl we were talking about? + Impossible! Incredible! There must be some mistake.” + </p> + <p> + “There is no mistake,” his host assured him. “This is the girl we were + talking about, this is Brinnaria.” + </p> + <p> + The visitor regarded her, respectfully standing now, her brown eyes + down-cast, the flush faded from her olive-skinned cheeks, her arms hanging + limply at her sides. She was tall for a girl and while slenderly built was + well muscled, a fine handsome figure in her red robe. + </p> + <p> + “This!” he exclaimed again. “Indeed. So this is Brinnaria. I am very glad + to have seen her. And now having seen her, do you not think that our + business would be better transacted by us three males together?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly, if you prefer,” Brinnarius asserted. + </p> + <p> + He patted Brinnaria and kissed her. + </p> + <p> + “Run away now, little girl,” he said, “and wait in the peristyle until I + want you.” + </p> + <p> + Brinnaria, once in the rear courtyard, instantly called: + </p> + <p> + “Guntello!” + </p> + <p> + Her call was answered by a great brute of a slave, bigger even than her + father, a gigantic Goth, pink-skinned, blue-eyed and yellow-haired. + </p> + <p> + “Now listen to me, Guntello,” his little mistress said, “for if you make + any mistake about my errand you’ll get me into no end of trouble.” + </p> + <p> + The Goth, manifestly devoted to her, leaned his ear close and grinned + amiably. She repeated her directions twice and made him repeat them after + her in his broken Latin. When she was sure that he understood, she + despatched him with a whispered injunction: + </p> + <p> + “Hurry! Hurry!” + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile, in the gorgeous atrium, the fathers’ conference had continued. + The moment she had gone Pulfennius said: + </p> + <p> + “I do not believe in discussing misunderstandings before females; + evidently there is some misunderstanding here. I want for my son a bride + younger than he is, even if he has to wait two or even four years to claim + her. You assured me that your daughter Brinnaria was not yet ten years of + age and you show me a grown woman and tell me that she is Brinnaria. What + is the explanation?” + </p> + <p> + “A very simple explanation,” he was answered. “Merely that Brinnaria is + unusually well grown and well developed for her age. I have seen other + cases of early ripening in children and so must you.” + </p> + <p> + “I’ve seen girls grown beyond their years,” Pulfennius admitted, “but no + case comparable to this. Why, man, that girl who has just left us would be + taken for over eighteen years old by any stranger at first sight of her, + and no one on earth could look at her carefully and hazard the conjecture + that she might possibly be under sixteen.” + </p> + <p> + “Quite so,” his host agreed, “and the better you know Brinnaria the more + you wonder at her. She not only looks sixteen or eighteen and acts as if + she were that age, but she talks as if she were that old and thinks as if + she were even older, and she is actually three full months, more than + three months, to be precise three months and twelve days, under ten years + of age.” + </p> + <p> + “Amazing!” spluttered Pulfennius, “astounding! inexplicable!” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t you believe me?” Brinnarius queried sharply. + </p> + <p> + “Certainly I believe you,” his guest disclaimed, “but I cannot realize + that it can be true; I am bewildered; I am dazed.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps,” the other suggested, “you would realize it better if Quartilla + added her assurances to mine.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh,” the other deprecated, “I do not require anybody’s corroboration to + your statement. But if her mother is at home, perhaps her presence would + be as well for other reasons.” + </p> + <p> + When summoned his host’s wife appeared as a medium-sized woman, neither + plump nor slender, with a complexion neither brown nor white, with + yellow-brown hair, gray-brown eyes, and in every outline, hue, and feature + as neutral and inconspicuous a creature as could be conceived of. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” Quartilla said, “everybody is surprised at Brinnaria’s growth. I + was scared, when she first began to grow so fast, and had special prayers + offered and sacrifices made at the temples of Youth and Health. Also I had + a Babylonian seer consult the stars concerning her birth-signs. Everybody + said she was born to long life, good health and great luck. But I can’t + fancy what ever made her grow so. She was fed like her brothers and + sisters and she never seems to eat any heartier or any oftener. Till she + was two and a half she was just like any other child. But she has grown + more in seven years than any other child I ever knew of ever grew in + fourteen and she’s so old for her years too. Not but that she plays with + dolls and toys and jacks; and she runs about just like any other child of + her age, in spite of her size; but she says such grown-up things and she + has such a womanly mind. She understands the family accounts better than I + do, is keen on economy and could oversee the providing for the entire + household. She astonishes me over and over. But there is no doubt about + her age. Both my sisters were with me when she was born and Nemestronia + too. Ask any of the three. Or I can tell you a dozen other ladies who know + just as well. Brinnaria will not be ten years old until the Ides of + September.” + </p> + <p> + “Wonderful! marvellous!” Pulfennius exclaimed. “Madam, you amaze me. But + if this is true so much the better. I had thought my boy must wait two + years or more for a wife, as I am determined that no more of my sons shall + marry wives of their own age, let alone older. If your daughter is so + young, she will just suit me, and since she is already grown up we shall + not have to wait for her to grow up. We can arrange for the wedding for + this month.” + </p> + <p> + They chaffered a long time about the marriage settlement, Calvaster + sitting silent, biting his lips, staring about him and fidgetting; + Quartilla equally silent, but entirely placid, without the twitch of a + muscle or any shift of gaze; the two men doing all the talking. Some of + the talking was almost vehement, Pulfennius disclaiming promises which his + host declared he had made. Once they came to a deadlock and then + Brinnarius, his voice suddenly mild and soft, mentioned Rabulla’s death + and his notion of offering Brinnaria for her successor. At once Pulfennius + became manageable and supple and all eagerness for the happiness of the + young couple. + </p> + <p> + When it seemed that they had reached an agreement on every point Quartilla + had her say. + </p> + <p> + “I think you will find Brinnaria everything you could wish as a + daughter-in-law. The most uncanny thing about her precocious habits of + thought is her tenacity of any resolve and her grave and earnest attitude + towards all questions of duty and propriety. She takes clan traditions + very seriously and is determined to comport herself according to ancestral + precedents. You will have no fault to find with her respectfulness towards + you and Herrania or with her behavior as a wife. She will be circumspect + in her deportment towards all men and is sure to turn out an excellent + housewife. She has lofty inherited standards to live up to and she is + deeply devoted to them. + </p> + <p> + “This is the more to be wondered at since she is strangely undignified in + many ways. I trust this will wear off as she grows up. It is only in this + respect that Brinnaria has ever given me any cause for concern. She is + more like a boy than a girl in many ways. She not only plays with boys and + plays boys’ games and plays them as well as boys or better, not only + climbs trees when she is in the country, and rides bareback and goes + fishing and swimming in any stream or pool, and ranges the woods and + cannot be restrained; but also she will indulge in the wildest pranks, the + most unthinkable freaks, play rough practical jokes on anybody and + everybody, laugh out loud, shout and yell, gesticulate and contort herself + into undignified postures and act generally in an uproarious and uncurbed + fashion. She keeps up that sort of thing even in town, and is boisterous + and unexpected beyond anything I ever heard of in any young girl She is + most docile in all really important things, but in respect to her jokings + and shriekings and carryings-on she is really beyond my control. She is + never openly disobedient, yet she is most ingenious at devising methods + for avoiding obedience. Sometimes I lose patience with Brinnaria. But, + when I really think it all over, there is no harm in any of it. Strangers, + however, would think her a very terrible girl; she belies herself so. Any + one becoming cognizant of some of her vagaries would form a very + unfavorable judgment of her and most unjustly. In her heart she is + anything but the wild creature she makes herself appear. Her squawks of + merriment, her rude interruptions of her elders, her pert remarks, her + sarcastic jokes, are all the manifestations of mere overflowing animal + spirits, of warm-blooded youth and hearty health. She will tone down. She + is the most startling and incalculable child I ever heard of. No one could + anticipate her eccentricities. There is an originality of invention about + her pranks which amazes me. But I am sure she will turn out all that I + could wish.” + </p> + <p> + “I trust so, indeed,” said Pulfennius dryly. “I am grateful to you for + warning me; I promise not to misjudge her because of any childish + freakishness. And now it seems to me that we should make the young lady + herself a party of this conference and bring the matter to a final + settlement.” + </p> + <p> + Brinnarius called a slave and bade him fetch Brinnaria. + </p> + <p> + Almost at once the fellow, a dark-skinned, obsequious Lydian, returned + looking scared and yet on the verge of laughter. He could barely control + his merriment, yet was plainly afraid to utter what he had to say. His + master ordered him to speak. + </p> + <p> + “Instead of coming with me,” he said, “the young lady sent a message. But + I am afraid to give it to you. I am afraid of a thrashing if I give the + message as she gave it to me.” + </p> + <p> + “Another of her jokes,” her father growled. “You shan’t suffer for any of + her impudence. Repeat her exact words; I’ll hold you excused, Dastor.” + </p> + <p> + Dastor, reassured, grinned with anticipated enjoyment and said: + </p> + <p> + “She says she is sitting down and very comfortable where she is, that she + will not stand up till she feels inclined, and that if you want to see her + you can come to her, for she will not come to you.” + </p> + <p> + For a moment there was a tense silence. + </p> + <p> + Pulfennius spoke first. + </p> + <p> + “If this is a sample of the sort of deportment which my future + daughter-in-law is expected to outgrow I might as well be shown just what + this kind of behavior is like. Let us acquiesce and go to the little + witch, if you do not object.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t object at all to going,” his host replied, “but I object to her + behavior; I’ll make her smart for it. Come, let us have it over with; I’ll + show you a submissive Brinnaria or I’ll know the reason why.” + </p> + <p> + They stood up and from the open atrium passed into a narrow passage + lighted only from the two ends and so into the larger courtyard with + gleaming marble columns at each end and long rows of them down each side. + The tank under the open sky was much larger than that in the atrium and + had two fountains in it. Pigeons cooed on the tiles of the roofs, and two + or three of them strutted on the mosaic pavement among the columns. + </p> + <p> + The party, dumbfounded and stunned, stood without voice or movement, + gazing at the picture before them. + </p> + <p> + The pavement was a cool grayish white in effect, for its mosaic work was + all of pale neutral tints. Above it the background was all white,—white + marble walls, the white marble polished pillars of the peristyle, white + marble entablature above them, the general whiteness emphasized by the + mere streak of red tiled roof visible against the intense blue of the sky. + </p> + <p> + The only color in the picture was to the left of the tank and close to it, + where there had been set a big armchair upholstered in blue tapestry. In + it sat a tall, fair-haired, curly-headed lad, with merry blue eyes. He + wore a robe of pale green, the green of young onion tops. Against that + green the red of Brinnaria’s gown showed strident and glary, for Brinnaria + was sitting on his lap. His arms were round her waist, hers about his + neck. She was slowly swinging her blue-shod feet rhythmically and was + kissing the lad audibly and repeatedly. As her elders stood still, + petrified, mute and motionless with amazement, she imprinted a loud smack + on the lad’s lips, laid her cheek roguishly to his and peered archly at + them, saying: + </p> + <p> + “Glad to see you again, Pulfennius; what do you think of me for a + daughter-in-law?” + </p> + <p> + “I do not think of you for a daughter-in-law,” Pulfennius snarled + furiously. + </p> + <p> + He turned angrily to Brinnarius. + </p> + <p> + “What does this mean?” he queried. + </p> + <p> + His host echoed him. + </p> + <p> + “Brinnaria!” he called, imperatively. “What does this mean?” + </p> + <p> + “Mean?” she repeated. “It means that I am making the most of Almo while I + can. I love Almo; I’ve promised to forget him, to be a good wife to + Calvaster, and of course I’m going to keep my word. From the moment I’m + married to Calvaster I’ll never so much as look at Almo, let alone touch + him. So I’m touching him all I can while I have the chance.” + </p> + <p> + She paused, kissed Almo twice, lingeringly and loudly, and looked up + again. + </p> + <p> + “How’s that for kissing, Calvaster?” she chirped. “Don’t you wish it was + you?” + </p> + <p> + “Come, son!” Pulfennius spluttered, “let us be gone! This is no place for + us. We are being mocked and insulted.” + </p> + <p> + “Nonsense, Pulfennius!” his host exclaimed. “Can’t you see that I had no + part in this, that the minx devised it all by herself expressly to thwart + me? Don’t let her have the satisfaction of outmanoeuvering both of us. + Don’t let a mere prank of a child spoil all our arrangements. She’ll be a + good wife as she says.” + </p> + <p> + “A good wife!” Pulfennius snorted. “I much doubt whether she can now ever + be a good wife to any man. I’m sure she’ll never be a wife to my son. + You’d never convince me that she’s fit to be my son’s wife. Make her a + Vestal, indeed! She a Vestal? She’s much more likely to be something very + different!” + </p> + <p> + “Do you mean to insinuate—” his host began. + </p> + <p> + “I mean to insinuate anything and everything appropriate to her wanton + behavior,” Pulfennius raged. + </p> + <p> + The two men glared at each other in a silence through which could be heard + the cooing of the doves, the trickle of the two fountains, Brinnaria’s low + chuckle and the faint lisping sound of three distinct kisses. + </p> + <p> + “I beg your pardon!” spoke a voice behind them. + </p> + <p> + The four looked around. + </p> + <p> + “What brings you here, Segontius?” Brinnarius asked. + </p> + <p> + “One of my slaves brought me word,” the intruder explained, “that my son + had entered this house. I knew you had not changed your mind since you + forbade him to cross your threshold, so I came here at once to disclaim + any share in his intrusion and to take him home. I feared he might get + into mischief.” + </p> + <p> + “He has,” Brinnarius replied, sententiously, “as you may see.” + </p> + <p> + Brinnaria, entirely at her ease, hugged Almo rapturously and kissed him + repeatedly. + </p> + <p> + “And I thought,” Segontius pursued, “that you would probably smash every + bone in his body if you caught him.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know why I haven’t,” spoke the big man reflectively. + </p> + <p> + “I know,” shouted Pulfennius, “I can tell you. It is because this whole + comedy has been rehearsed between you just to make me ridiculous. I know + your way, your malignity, your tenacity of a grudge, your pretence of + reconciliation, your ingenuity, your well-laid traps. I’ll be revenged for + this yet!” + </p> + <p> + “You won’t live to be revenged,” Brinnarius told him, “unless you get out + of here quick. I’ll break every bone in your body, for certain, if you + address another word to me.” + </p> + <p> + “Come, son, said Pulfennius, and shambled away. + </p> + <p> + “And now,” spoke Segontius, “don’t you think, Marcus, that you and I had + best forget our quarrels and be friends again? These young folks were + plainly meant for each other by all the gods who favor lovers. Let us not + stand in the way.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed, Lucius,” spoke the big man, holding out his huge hand. “I am of + the same mind. But both of them deserve some punishment for their + presumption. They should wait four years at least before they marry. My + girl is too young.” + </p> + <p> + “I agree,” said Segontius, “and I’ll send my boy to Falerii for the + present. That will keep them apart and ensure propriety of behavior.” + </p> + <p> + “That is well,” growled Brinnarius, “and I’ll send my girl to her aunt + Septima’s.” + </p> + <p> + Brinnaria sprang up. + </p> + <p> + “Aunt Septima’s?” she cried. “Spinach and mallows and a tiny roast lark + for dinner every day. I’ll starve to death And prim! I’d almost as lief be + a Vestal!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER II - SIEVES + </h2> + <p> + To her luxurious but austerely managed villa, Aunt Septima welcomed + Brinnaria with heartfelt, if repressed affection. Until the second sunrise + Brinnaria controlled herself. Then the good lady endured her overgrown + niece for some strenuous days, suffered impatiently for a few more, but + finally packed off to Rome “that unspeakable child.” At home again + Brinnaria demanded pork and cabbage. + </p> + <p> + “My insides are as empty as the sky,” she wailed. “Asparagus is all very + well, but it’s none too filling, even if you can eat all you want, and + aunty says ten stalks is enough for any one meal. Chicken-breast is good, + hot or cold, but aunty would never let me have a second helping. She + wouldn’t even let me have as much bread as I wanted and only one little + dish of strawberries. I filled up on raw eggs, all I could find in the + nests. But, my six days of raw eggs was five days too many for me. I’m + wild for cabbage, all I want, and pork, big hunks of it.” + </p> + <p> + She got it and slept a sound night’s sleep. + </p> + <p> + The next day she craved an outing on foot. Her mother, prone to the + shortest cut to peace on all occasions, acquiesced at once and let her go + out with her one-eyed maid, Utta. + </p> + <p> + Utta, born somewhere beyond the Rhine, had been brought to Rome when a + small child and had no memories except memories of Italy. She was the most + placid and acquiescent creature imaginable. Her little mistress led her + first of all to the nearest pastry-cook’s shop where the two ate till they + could not swallow another crumb. + </p> + <p> + Brinnaria, like many eccentric children born to wealth and position, had + special favorites, almost cronies, among the lowly. Chief among them was + the old sieve-maker of the Via Sacra. To his shop she made Utta lead her. + Utta interposed no objection. Utta never objected to anything. But in this + case she was especially complaisant, since opposite the sieve-maker’s was + a fascinating embroidery shop, the keeper of which was entirely willing, + when he had no customers, to let Utta lounge on one of his sofas and + inspect embroideries to her heart’s content. So lounging, rapt in the + contemplation of Egyptian appliques, Syrian gold-thread borders, Spanish + linen-work, silk flower patterns from Cos, Parthian animal designs and + Celtic cord-labyrinths after originals in leather thongs, Utta could + glance up from time to time and make sure that her charge was safe with + the sieve-maker. + </p> + <p> + Safe she would have been without any maid to watch her, for old Truttidius + adored her. He was a small, hale, merry, wizened man, his seamed and + wrinkled face brown as berry in spite of his lifelong habit of indoor + labor and comparative inertia. He had more than a little tact and was an + excellent listener. Brinnaria was entirely at ease with him. + </p> + <p> + His shop was rather large for those days, nearly fifteen feet wide and + fully twenty deep. It faced directly on the street, from which it was + separated only by the stone counter which occupied all the front except a + narrow entrance at one side. Above the counter projected the heavy + shutters which closed the shop at night and which, being hinged at the + top, were by day pushed upward and outward so as to form a sort of pent + like a wooden substitute for an awning. The entrance by the end of the + counter was closed by a solid little gate. Behind the counter was the low + stool from which Truttidius rose to chaffer with customers, and on which, + when not occupied in trading, he sat at work, his bench and brazier by his + side, his tools hanging on the wall by his hand, orderly in their neat + racks or on their neat rows of hooks. Except for the trifling wall-space + which they occupied, the walls were hidden under sieves hanging close + together; bronze sieves, copper sieves, rush sieves with rims of white + willow wood, white horse-hair sieves whose hoops were stout ash, sieves of + black horse-hair stretched in rims of clean steamed oak and linen sieves + hooped about with birch. Sieves were piled on the counter, mostly fancy + sieves with hoops of carved wood strung with black and white horse-hair + interlaced in bold patterns, or copper sieves, polished till they shone, + they being most likely to catch the eyes of the passing throng. + </p> + <p> + Brinnaria, sprawled on the sofa against the wall behind the work-bench, + surveyed her surroundings and sighed happily, entirely at home. Truttidius + was beating copper wire, a process always fascinating to watch. + </p> + <p> + “I’ve had an awful time in the country with Aunt Septima,” Brinnaria + chatted, “and I had an awful scare before they sent me to the country. + Daddy threatened to make me a Vestal.” + </p> + <p> + “In place of Rabulla?” Truttidius queried, glancing up. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” Brinnaria answered, “but I got off; my, but I was scared though.” + </p> + <p> + “You didn’t want to be a Vestal?” Truttidius asked, eyeing her over his + work. + </p> + <p> + “Not I!” Brinnaria declared. “I can’t think of anything worse except being + killed.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” mused Truttidius, “there is no accounting for tastes. Most girls + would be wild with delight at the idea. But there would be no sense in + being a Vestal unless you wanted to be one.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t,” Brinnaria proclaimed emphatically, “but I have been thinking + about Vestals ever since Daddy threatened me and scared me so; I’ve been + thinking about Vestals and sieves. Did anybody ever really carry water in + a sieve, Truttidius?” + </p> + <p> + “Water in a sieve?” the old man exclaimed. “Not anybody that ever I saw. + What do you mean?” + </p> + <p> + “You must have heard the story of Tuccia, the Vestal,” Brinnaria wondered, + wide-eyed. “She lived ages ago, before Hannibal invaded Italy, when + everything was different. They said she was bad and she said it was a lie + and they said she could not prove it was a lie and she said she could. She + said if she was all she ought to be the Goddess would show it by answering + her prayer. And she took a sieve and walked down to the river, right by + the end of the Sublician bridge, where the stairs are on the right-hand + side. And the five other Vestals, and the flamens, and all the priests, + and the Pontifex, and the consuls went with her. And she stood on the + lowest step with her toes in the water and prayed out loud to the Goddess + to help her and show that she had told the truth and then she stooped over + and dipped up water with her sacrificing ladle and poured it into the + sieve and it didn’t run through, and she dipped up more and more until the + sieve was half full of water, as if it had been a pan. And then she hung + her ladle at her girdle-hook and took the sieve in both hands and carried + the water all the way to the temple. And everybody said that that proved + that she had told the truth. + </p> + <p> + “That’s the story. Had you ever heard it?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, little lady,” Truttidius said, “I have heard it.” + </p> + <p> + “What I want to know,” Brinnaria pursued, “is this: Is it a made-up story + or is it a true story?” + </p> + <p> + “Little lady,” spoke Truttidius, “it is impious to doubt the truth of + pious stories handed down from days of old.” + </p> + <p> + “That isn’t answering my question,” said the practical Brinnaria. “What I + want you to tell me is to say right out plain do you believe it. Did + anybody really ever carry water in a sieve?” + </p> + <p> + “You must remember, dear little lady,” the sieve-maker said, “that she was + a most holy priestess, most pleasing in the eyes of her Goddess, that she + was in dire straits and that she prayed to the Goddess to aid her. The + Goddess helped her votary; the gods can do all things.” + </p> + <p> + “The gods can do all things,” Brinnaria echoed, her eyes flashing, “but + the gods don’t do all things, not even for their favorites. There are lots + and lots of things no god ever did for any votary or ever will. What I + want to know is this: Is carrying water in a sieve one of the things the + gods not only can do but do do? Did anybody ever carry water in a sieve + truly?” + </p> + <p> + Truttidius smiled, his wrinkles doubling and quadrupling till his face was + all a network of tiny folds of hard, dry skin. He put down his work and + regarded his guest, his face serious after the fading of his brief smile. + The soft-footed sandalled throng that packed the narrow street shuffled + and padded by unnoticed. No customer interrupted them. They might have + been alone in a Sibyl’s cell on a mountain side. + </p> + <p> + “Little lady,” spoke the sieve-maker, “you are, indeed, very old for your + age, not only in height and build, but in heart and mind. What other child + would bother her head about so subtle a problem? What other child would + perceive the verity at the heart of the puzzle and put it so neatly in so + few words? To you an old man cannot help talking as to an experienced + matron, because to you an old man can talk as to a woman of sense. You + deserve to be answered in the spirit of the question.” + </p> + <p> + He reflected. Brinnaria, fascinated and curious, hardly breathed in her + intentness, watching his face and waiting for his answer. + </p> + <p> + “Little lady,” he said, after a long silence, “the gods can, indeed, do + all things. But as you have yourself perceived the gods do not do all + things, even for their favorites. The gods work miracles to vindicate + their votaries, but as you divine, each miracle is the happening by the + special ordinance of the gods of what might happen even without their + mandate, but which does not happen because it is only once in countless + ages that all the circumstances necessary to bring about that sort of + happening concur to produce so unusual an effect. What folks call a + miracle is the occurrence, by the beneficent will of heaven, at just the + right time and place, of what might happen anywhere to any one, but almost + never does happen anywhere to any one, because it is so unlikely that all + things should conspire to bring about so unlikely a result. + </p> + <p> + “So of carrying water in a sieve. + </p> + <p> + “Anybody might carry water in a sieve any day. But very seldom, oh, very, + very seldom can it come to pass that the kind of person capable of + carrying water in a sieve can be just in the condition of muscle and mood + to do so and can at just that moment be in possession of just the kind of + sieve that will hold water and not let it through. For an actual breathing + woman of flesh and blood to carry water in a real ordinary sieve of + rush-fibres, or linen thread or horsehair or metal wire, in such a sieve + as pastry-cooks use to sift their finest flour; for that to happen in + broad daylight under the open sky before a crowd of onlookers, that + requires the special intervention of the blessed gods, or of the most + powerful of them. And not even all of them together could make that happen + to a woman of ordinary quality of hand and eye, with a usual sieve, as + most sieves are.” + </p> + <p> + “Explain!” Brinnaria half whispered, “what kind of woman could actually + carry water in a sieve and in what kind of a sieve, and under what + circumstances?” + </p> + <p> + “That’s three questions,” Truttidius counted, “and one at a time is + enough. + </p> + <p> + “In the first place, no god, not all the gods together, could give any + votary power to carry water in a sieve, be it rush or linen or horse-hair + or metal, of which the meshes had been first scrubbed with natron or + embalmers’ salt or wood-ashes or fullers’ earth. Water would run through + such a sieve, did even all the gods will that it be retained. No one ever + dipped a sieve into water and brought it up with water in it and saw that + water retained by the meshes. Once wet the under side of a sieve and water + will run through to the last drop. + </p> + <p> + “But if a sieve were ever so little greasy or oily, not dripping with oil + or clogged with grease, but greasy as a working slave’s finger is greasy + on a hot day; if such a sieve were free of any drop of water on the + underside, if into such a sieve water were slowly and carefully poured, as + you say that Tuccia in the story ladled water into her sieve with her + libation-dipper, then that water might spread evenly over the meshes to + the rim all around, might deepen till it was as deep as the width of two + fingers or of three, and might be retained by the meshes even for an hour, + even while the sieve was carried over a rough road, up hill and down, + through crowded streets. + </p> + <p> + “But few are the women who could so carry a sieve of water or could even + so hold it that the water would not run through at once.” + </p> + <p> + “How could the water be retained at all?” queried Brinnaria the practical. + “What is the explanation?” + </p> + <p> + Truttidius wrinkled up his face in deep thought. + </p> + <p> + “You have seen wine spilled at dinner,” he illustrated. “You have seen a + drop of it or a splash of it fall on a sofa-cover, and you have seen it + soak in and leave an ugly stain?” + </p> + <p> + “Of course,” Brinnaria agreed, “often and often.” + </p> + <p> + “And then again, not very often,” the sieve-maker went on, “you see a + patch of spilt wine stand up on a perfectly dry fabric and remain there + awhile without soaking in, its surface shining wet and its edges gleaming + round and smooth and curved, bright as a star. Well, the retaining of + water in a sieve by the open meshes is like the momentary holding up of + spilt wine on a woven fabric. I can’t explain any better, but the two + happenings are similar, only the not soaking in of the splashed liquid is + far, oh, far more frequent, countless, uncountable times more frequent, + than the sustaining of fluid in a sieve. But as the one can happen and + does, so the other could happen and might.” + </p> + <p> + “I see,” Brinnaria breathed. “You have made me see that. Now, next point: + How must the sieve be held?” + </p> + <p> + The old man smiled again. + </p> + <p> + “You keep close to the subject,” he chuckled. “You talk like a grandmother + of consuls. You have a head on your shoulders.” + </p> + <p> + “That does not answer my question,” Brinnaria persisted. + </p> + <p> + “Your question is easily answered,” he said. “For the miracle to happen, + in fact, the sieve must be held as level as the top rail of a mason’s + T-shaped plumb-line frame, and as steady as if clamped in a vise. For a + woman to carry water in a sieve the weather must be dry, for in damp + weather the water would run through the meshes, even if the threads or + wires were just oily enough and not too oily, even if the meshes were just + the right size to favor the forming in each mesh of a little pocket of + water underneath, like the edges of the upstanding drop of wine on a + sofa-cushion. I don’t know how it comes to pass, but somehow, if all the + conditions are right, little bags of water form on the underside of a + sieve, one to each mesh, like drops after a rain hanging from the edge of + my shop-shutters, or from the mutules on the cornice of a temple. They are + capable of sustaining one or even two finger-thicknesses of water on the + upper side of the sieve-web. But if the sieve-web is unevenly woven or + unevenly stretched, it will not retain water an instant, and if the + sieve-web bags anywhere the water, even if the rest of the sieve-web + promises to retain it, will run through at that point. And even if the + sieve is perfect, the slightest tilt, the very slightest tilt, will cause + the little bags of water to break at the lowest point, and so start all + the water to running through. I know; I have tried; I have seen the sieve + hold up the water for some breaths. But for the marvel to last any length + of time, that would require the intervention of the gods; that would be a + miracle. For a woman to hold a sieve so that it would retain water would + mean that her hand was as steady as the hand of a sleep-walker or of the + priestess of Isis in her trance in the great yearly mystery-festival. That + could happen seldom to any woman; such a woman would be rare.” + </p> + <p> + “I see,” Brinnaria barely whispered, so intent was she on the old man’s + words. “Now, what kind of woman could do such a wonder?” + </p> + <p> + “A very exceptional and unusual kind of woman,” the old man declared. + “Women, the run of them, are not steady-handed. Even steady-handed women + are easily distracted, their attention is readily called away from any + definite task. Even a woman usually steady-handed would find her hand + tremble if she were conscious of guilt, even a woman high-hearted with her + sense of her own worthiness might glance aside at some one in a great + crowd of people about her, might let her thoughts wander. + </p> + <p> + “That is where the miracle would come in. Only a woman directly favored by + the mighty gods could so ignore the throng about her, could so forget + herself, could so concentrate all her faculties on the receptacle she + held, could so perfectly control her muscles or could so completely let + her muscles act undisturbed by her will, could possess muscles capable of + so long tension at so perfect an adjustment.” + </p> + <p> + “I see,” Brinnaria sighed. “The thing may have happened in fact, may + happen again, but it could happen only once out of ten times ten thousand + times ten thousand chances. I understand. It is a possibility in the + ordinary course of events. It was a miracle if it ever took place; it will + be a miracle if it ever comes to pass again. It is not impossible, but + it’s too improbable for anybody to believe it could be, in fact.” + </p> + <p> + “You have it,” the sieve-maker assured her. + </p> + <p> + “I’m glad I have,” she said. “Now it’ll go out of my head and quit + bothering me. I’ve thought about it day and night ever since Daddy + threatened me. Now I’ll forget it and sleep sound.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER III - STUTTERING + </h2> + <p> + When Brinnaria returned from her outing she found waiting for her her best + friend, chum and crony, Flexinna, a girl four years older, not so tall, + decidedly more slender and much prettier. Brinnaria was robustly handsome; + Flexinna was delicately lovely, yet they did not differ much in tints of + hair, eyes or skin and might have been sisters. In fact, they were not + infrequently taken for sisters. + </p> + <p> + They chatted of their girlish interests and of local gossip and family + news, like any pair of girls, until Brinnaria described the escapade that + led to her rustication. + </p> + <p> + Flexinna’s eyes were wide and wider as she listened. + </p> + <p> + “D-d-do-you really m-m-mean,” she stuttered, “that you had a c-c-chance to + be a V-V-Vestal and d-d-didn’t jump at it?” + </p> + <p> + “Jump at it!” exclaimed Brinnaria. “I jumped away from it! I can’t think + of anything, except death, that would fill me with more horror than the + very idea of being made a Vestal. It makes me shiver now just to speak of + it.” + </p> + <p> + “You’re a f-f-fool,” Flexinna declared, “the f-f-foolest kind of a + f-f-fool. This is the f-f-first f-f-foolish thing I ever knew you to + d-d-do. I always th-th-thought you s-s-so s-s-sensible, t-t-too. And + you’ve m-m-missed a ch-ch-chance to be a V-V-Vestal. I’ve n-n-no + p-p-patience with you. Any other g-g-girl would j-j-jump at the + ch-ch-chance.” + </p> + <p> + “Jump at it!” cried Brinnaria. “Why?” + </p> + <p> + “Why?” sneered Flexinna, blazing with excitement. “Why, just think what + you’ve m-m-missed! You’re as wild as I am to see g-g-gladiators fight, + k-k-keener than I am to see a real horse-race in the circus, and you’ll + have to wait until you’re g-g-grown up, as I’ll have to, before you + s-s-see either. And you’d have g-g-gone to every spectacle, from the very + day you were t-t-taken, and not have m-m-missed one. Think of it! + F-F-Front seats in the circus, front seats in the amphitheatre, all your + life, or for thirty years at least, for certain! And you’ve m-m-missed it. + And that’s not half. Your lictor to c-c-clear the way for you whenever you + g-g-go out and your choice to g-g-go out in your litter with eight + b-b-bearers or in your c-c-carriage, your own c-c-carriage, all your own, + and the right to d-d-drive any where in the city any d-d-day in the year. + Oh, you f-f-fool, you s-s-silly f-f-fool! A ch-ch-chance to be one of the + s-s-seven m-m-most imp-p-portant women in Rome, one of the s-s-six who are + on a level with the Empress, and you m-m-missed it! Fancy it; to b-b-be + mistress of an income so large that it m-m-makes you d-d-dizzy to think of + it, and you throw away the ch-ch-chance! To be able the m-m-moment you + were taken, to m-m-make your own w-w-will! To have every legacy c-c-cadger + in Rome running after you and m-m-making you p-p-presents and d-d-doing + you favors and angling for your n-n-notice all your 1-l-life 1-1-long, and + you m-m-miss the ch-ch-chance!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” Brinnaria admitted, reflectively, “I have missed all that, that’s + so. But that’s not all there is to think of, when you think about being a + Vestal. I’ve missed a lot of fine privileges, mighty valuable to any girl + that would care for that sort of thing; but I’ve escaped a lot of things + that would go with those privileges. I love bright colors, I always did + and I look ghastly in white—I look like a ghost. And I’d have had to + wear white and nothing else, even white flowers, like a corpse. And a + Vestal has to keep her eyes on the ground and walk slow and stately and + stand straight and dignified, and talk soft and low. I’d suffer, even if I + could learn all the tricks they teach them as well as Gargilia has. And I + don’t believe I ever could. I’d keep my eyes cast down for a month or a + year and then, right in the middle of a sacrifice, I’d see something + funny, like the gander squawking under the feet of the pall-bearers at + poor old Gibba’s funeral at the farm last summer, and I’d wink at the head + Vestal or roll my eyes at the whole congregation and spoil the prayers; + or, after keeping meek and mum for a year or so I’d be so wild to laugh + that I’d roar right out and break up the whole service. I think I’m the + last girl alive to be a Vestal. A Vestal mustn’t answer back or make a + pun, no matter how good a chance she gets. I just can’t help cutting in, + if I see a chance; the words come out of my mouth before I know it, and, + if I trained myself to keep still and look as mild as a lamb, I’d be + boiling inside and sometime I’d burst out with a yell just to relieve my + feelings or I’d jab a shawl-pin into the Pontifex to see him jump, or put + out my toe and trip up somebody just to see him sprawl. I couldn’t help + it. The more I’d bottle myself up the farther the naughtiness in me would + spurt when it burst through the skin. I know. No Vestaling for me! I + wasn’t born for that trade!” + </p> + <p> + “Nonsense!” Flexinna disclaimed vigorously. “You’d g-g-get used to the + whole thing in a m-m-month and be the most s-s-statuesque of the six in + t-t-ten years. Think of it! I’m just raging inside at your f-f-folly. To + have the right to an interview with the Emperor whenever you d-d-demand + it, to see the m-m-magistrates’ lictors lower their fasces to you and + s-s-stand aside at the s-s-salute and let you p-p-pass whenever you + m-m-meet them in p-p-public. To live in one of the finest p-p-palaces in + Rome, one of the most m-m-magnificent residences on earth, to have the + ch-ch-chance at all that and m-m-miss it; I’ve no p-p-patience with you!” + </p> + <p> + “That’s all very fine,” Brinnaria countered, “but there’s much to be said + on the other side. I’ve been in the Atrium. Aunt Septima took me there to + call on Causidiena. It’s big, it’s gorgeous, it’s luxurious, that’s all + true. But I love sunlight. I’d loathe living in that hole in the ground; + why, the shadow of the Palace falls across the courtyard before noon and + for all the rest of the day it’s gloomy as the bottom of a well. I heard + Causidiena tell Aunt Septima how shoes mould and embroideries mildew and + what a time they have with the inlays popping off the furniture on account + of the dampness and about the walls and lamp-standards sweating moisture. + I’d hate the dark, poky, cold place.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh,” Flexinna admitted, “there are d-d-drawbacks to any s-s-situation in + life, but, really the higher the s-s-station the fewer the drawbacks. The + p-p-plain truth is that being a Vestal is the highest s-s-station in Rome + except being an Empress. No g-g-girl dare aspire to be an Empress; it + would be treason. If any g-g-girl d-d-dreams of it she k-k-keeps her + d-d-dreams to herself. But any g-g-girl has a right to aspire to be a + Vestal, if she is made perfect and is under ten and has her f-f-father and + m-m-mother noble and alive. You’ve got all that and you are offered what + any g-g-girl would envy you and you throw it away! I’ve no patience with + you.” + </p> + <p> + “You forget,” Brinnaria argued, “that I’m in love with Almo and I’d have + to give up Almo.” + </p> + <p> + “Not f-f-forever,” Flexinna retorted. “He’s enough in love with you to + wait for you, to wait for you! You could have pledged him to wait till + your term of service was up and then you two could have married just the + same.” + </p> + <p> + “Just the same!” Brinnaria echoed. “A lot of good it’d do me to marry + after I’d be an old wrinkled, gray-haired woman of forty, dried up and + withered.” + </p> + <p> + “Nemestronia,” Flexinna cited, “has married twice since she was forty, and + she’s not withered yet, not by a great deal, even if she is gray-haired + and has a wrinkle or two.” + </p> + <p> + “What’s the use of arguing,” Brinnaria summed up. “I hate the very idea of + being a Vestal. I’d hate the fact a million times more. I’d hate it even + if I were not in love with Almo, furiously in love with Almo. Daddy says + I’ve got to wait four years to marry him. I roll around in bed and bite + the pillows with rage to think of it, night after night. A fine figure I’d + cut trying to wait thirty years for him. I’d swoon with longing for him + and write him a note or peep out of the temple to see him go by and then + I’d get accused of misbehavior, and accused is convicted for a Vestal; + well, you know it. I’d look fine being buried alive in a seven-by-five + underground stone cell, with half a pint of milk and a gill of wine to + keep me alive long enough to suffer before I starved to death and a + thimbleful of oil in a lamp to make me more scared of the dark when the + lamp burned out. No burial alive for me. I’m in love. I’m too much in love + to balance arguments. I’m not sorry I missed my chance, as you call it. + I’m glad I escaped; the chance isn’t missed for that matter. Rabulla’s + place hasn’t been filled yet.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you know who is g-g-going to be ch-ch-chosen to fill it?” Flexinna + asked. “You d-d-don’t? The choice has about narrowed d-d-down to that + execrable, weasel-faced little M-M-Meffia.” + </p> + <p> + “Meffia!” Brinnaria cried. “There’s no one alive I despise as much as that + detestable ninny. I’ve a mind to chuck Almo and ask Daddy to offer me, + just to spite Meffia.” + </p> + <p> + “Why d-d-don’t you?” Flexinna stuttered. “D-d-do it n-n-now, right + n-n-now. You might be t-t-too late.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh bosh,” Brinnaria groaned. “What’s the use of talking nonsense? What + would be the sense in my spoiling my life to spite Meffia? I hate her. + I’ll hate to see her putting on airs as a Vestal, but I’d hate worse to be + a Vestal myself, and worst of all to lose Almo. I just couldn’t give up + Almo.” + </p> + <p> + “I wish I were you,” Flexinna raged. “If I were only under ten and + d-d-didn’t s-s-stutter, I’d d-d-do all I c-c-could to g-g-get D-D-Daddy to + offer m-m-me.” + </p> + <p> + “Bosh!” Brinnaria sneered. “You’re in love with Vocco and you know you + wouldn’t even think of giving him up if you had the chance.” + </p> + <p> + “Just wouldn’t I!” Flexinna retorted. “I love Quintus dearly. But if I had + a ch-ch-chance to be a V-V-Vestal, I’d fling poor Quintus hard and never + regret him. Not I. Think of the influence a V-V-Vestal has! Every man who + wants p-p-promotion in the army or in the fleet, or who wants an + appointment to any office would set his sisters and all his women + relations to besieging me to use my influence for him. Every temple-carver + and shrine-painter in Rome would have his wife showing me attentions. I + know; I’ve heard the talk. + </p> + <p> + “And b-b-besides, in all the Empire a Vestal is the nearest thing to a + p-p-princess we have. We read a lot about Egyptian princesses, and Asiatic + princesses and we hear about P-P-Parthian p-p-princesses, but the only + p-p-princesses we ever see are the Vestals. They are the only + p-p-princesses in the Empire, in Italy, in Rome, the six of them. And you + had a chance to be one of the only six p-p-princesses in our world and you + didn’t take it. Oh, you f-f-fool, you f-f-fool!” + </p> + <p> + They wrangled about their conflicting views for a long time. + </p> + <p> + It was only as Flexinna was leaving that she inquired casually: + </p> + <p> + “Have you heard what Rabulla d-d-died of?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Brinnaria, “what was it?” + </p> + <p> + “Hadn’t you heard?” Flexinna wondered. “It was the p-p-pestilence.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IV - PESTILENCE + </h2> + <p> + Pestilence! + </p> + <p> + Brinnaria heard the word often during the next few days. Rome talked of + little else. It had begun with a few deaths along the river front in the + sailors’ quarters, and among the stevedores and porters of the + grain-warehouses, southwest of the Aventine Hill in the thirteenth ward. + Next it came to notice when there were many deaths along the Subura in the + very centre of the city. From there the infection had spread to every + wind. Panic seized the people. There was an exodus of all who could afford + it, to their country estates, to the mountains, to the seaside. Brinnarius + and Quartilla discussed arrangements for their departure to his mountain + farm in the Sabine hills above Carsioli. Their difficulty was to decide to + whom to commit their great house in Rome. They had no slave whom they + implicitly trusted, and no one certainly who would be willing to stay in + the city. To close the house was to invite burglary, for in the general + panic watchmen were unreliable and house-breakings were frequent. Into + their consultation Brinnaria thrust herself uninvited. + </p> + <p> + “Why don’t you leave me in town?” she suggested. “I hate the country and I + hate it near Carsioli worse than any neighborhood I ever saw. I want to + stay right here. I love Rome. And I’m not afraid of pestilence. Nobody can + die more than once and nobody dies till the gods will it. There’s more + danger of dying of fright and worry than of pestilence. Anyhow a + pestilence never kills all the people in a city, most of the towns- folk + stay right at home and keep alive all right. Half the people that die + scare or fret themselves to death. I won’t fret or worry and I’ll keep + well here; but if you take me with you I’ll be miserable and chafe myself + ill. I can run the house as well as mother can. Most of the slaves worship + me and will obey me for love, the rest are deadly afraid of me and will + not dare to disobey me. I’ll keep order and I will not waste a sesterce. + Can’t I stay, Father?” + </p> + <p> + Brinnarius knit his brows and looked at his wife. Her eyes answered his. + </p> + <p> + “It would save a deal of trouble,” he said, reflectively. + </p> + <p> + “It would make a deal of gossip,” Quartilla declared. “All my enemies + would say that I am an unnatural mother, that I do not love my youngest + child, that I hate her, that I am exposing her to certain death, that I am + as bad as a murderess.” + </p> + <p> + “Nonsense!” her husband retorted. “We can’t bother about all the malice of + all the slanderers in Rome. Other people’s daughters are remaining. + Lucconius means to stay here in Rome with his family. If he ventures to + keep Flexinna here we might venture to leave Brinnaria behind.” + </p> + <p> + “You might,” that self-assertive child cut in, “and you know there is + really no use in taking me if I do not want to go. You know how much + trouble it will make for both of you.” + </p> + <p> + Quartilla sighed. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps we had best leave her,” she said. “Certainly the house will be + safe and the slaves kept in order. I shan’t have an instant’s anxiety + about that. Then Brinnaria is so genuinely brave that she will really not + dread the pestilence, and all the doctors say that there is nothing like + that feeling to protect any one from the danger. She makes me feel that + she will be safe. I don’t believe I’ll worry about that either.” + </p> + <p> + “Fine!” Brinnaria squealed. “I’m to stay.” + </p> + <p> + “Not so fast,” her father rebuked her. “I haven’t said yet that you may + stay. But if I say so, then you must stay. I’ll not have you changing your + mind and deciding to leave Rome after we have arranged to put you in + charge here. It would make trouble indeed to have you shutting up this + house in a hurry and chasing after us to Carsioli.” + </p> + <p> + “Epulo!” his wife reproached him, “the child has her faults, but + changeableness is not one of them. She is the most resolute child I ever + knew. If you leave her, she will not fail us. If she gives her word she + will keep it. I never knew Brinnaria to break an earnestly made promise.” + </p> + <p> + “Will you promise?” her father asked her. + </p> + <p> + “I promise,” Brinnaria shouted, “I pledge myself. I take oath. I swear by + my love of both of you, by my respect for our clan, by my hopes of + marrying Almo, that I’ll stick it out here in Rome, going out only when + necessary, unless you send for me to come away. If anything happens that + makes me think I ought to leave the city I shall send a message to you, + but I shall not cross the city boundaries nor relax my watch on this house + without your permission. I swear.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s enough, dearie,” her father said, “enough and too much. If your + judgment tells you that you ought to flee from Rome, you have my + permission to send me a messenger; I know you will not resort to that + without real need. I rely on your judgment. The gods be with you, child. + You have taken a load of my shoulders, two loads, in fact.” + </p> + <p> + Thereupon preparations for departure were pushed and soon after sunrise on + the next day Brinnaria found herself left to her own resources, + responsible for the welfare of a large retinue of obsequious slaves, + autocrat over them, and mistress of one of the largest private houses in + Rome. She acquitted herself well of her duties. She had been right in + claiming that she was loved by most and feared by the rest. Certainly she + was trusted and respected by all as if she had been five times her age. + She made them as comfortable as town-slaves could be and they knew it. To + her they accorded instant and implicit obedience. The life of the + household went on as smoothly as if the master had been at home. And its + life was not gloomy. Although the main subject of conversation was the + pestilence, open forebodings were not indulged in and the house was + outwardly cheerful. + </p> + <p> + Equally cheerful was Flexinna, whom Brinnaria saw daily. Neither of them + had the slightest fear of the pestilence and no member of either household + had shown the slightest symptoms of any kind of illness. Of the daily + deaths among their large acquaintance or among the nobilities of the city, + they talked calmly, without any feeling of gloom or of dread, secure in + the confidence of youth and health. + </p> + <p> + On the tenth day after Brinnaria had been left to her own devices Flexinna + visited her as usual. Early in their talk she said: + </p> + <p> + “D-D-Dossonia died last night.” + </p> + <p> + “The Chief Vestal?” Brinnaria queried. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” Flexinna replied, a bright tear in each eye. + </p> + <p> + “She couldn’t live forever,” Brinnaria said. “She was ninety-four, wasn’t + she?” + </p> + <p> + “Ninety-four years and eight months yesterday,” Flexinna replied. “She had + been Chief Vestal ever since C-C-Calpurnia P-P-Praetextata died, and + that’s fifty- six years ago. She had been Chief Vestal longer than any + ever and she had lived longer than any Vestal ever.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Brinnaria, the practical, “she ought to have been glad to go, + and she stone blind for twenty years.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I know,” Flexinna rejoined, “but she was such an old d-d-dear, she + looked so much younger than her age, her face so healthy and pink, and + b-b-beautiful even with all its wrinkles, so calm and placid and holy I + loved to look at her sitting in her big chair like a great white + b-b-butterfly, so plump and handsome and soft-looking. She always put out + her hand to my face and recognized me at the first t-t-touch, almost, and + gave me her blessing so b-b-beautifully. Sometimes Manlia let me read to + the old dear, and she always seemed to enjoy it so much. I’m real shaken + at her d-d-death. I really loved her.” + </p> + <p> + “Everybody loved her,” Brinnaria declared. “But everybody loves Causidiena + too, and she’s Chief Vestal now. She’s not fat and placid like Dossonia, + but she is wonderfully dignified. My, I admire that woman!” + </p> + <p> + “I wonder,” Flexinna reflected, “who will be chosen in her p-p-place.” + </p> + <p> + “Poor wretch!” Brinnaria commented. “I’m sorry for her, whoever she is. + Just think, she’ll have to pair with that unspeakable little muff of a + Meffia. I hate that girl.” + </p> + <p> + “Whoever she is,” Flexinna continued, “she is sure to be chosen and taken + mighty quick. For with this p-p-pestilence in the city, and all the + trouble the P-P-Parthians are making in the East, of the Marcomanni on the + Rhine colonies, and the thunder-storms that have raged about lately, + there’ll be need felt for all the p-p-prayers all the offer. They’ll not + leave the vacancy open long. I’ll bet they have it filled by d-d-day after + to-morrow. Old B-B-Bambilio is a stickler for pious precision an + observance of all ritual matters and the Emperors are with him.” + </p> + <p> + “Marcus is,” Brinnaria agreed, pertly, “but Lucius doesn’t care what + happens so long as he has his fun.” + </p> + <p> + “You mustn’t t-t-t-talk that way about the Emperors,” Flexinna cautioned + her. “If you were overheard you’d get into no end of trouble. Anyhow, + Verus defers to Aurelius in everything, so that whatever Aurelius wishes + is as if both wished it. And there never was a more p-p-pious Emperor than + Aurelius. So the place is certain to be filled p-p-promptly.” + </p> + <p> + “At once, for sure,” Brinnaria agreed. “I wonder who the victim will be? + Do you suppose it will be Occurnea?” + </p> + <p> + “It would have been Occurnea, I think,” Flexinna said. “You know it was a + chance for a while whether she’d get it instead of Meffia. But she’s not + eligible now. Her mother d-d-died yesterday.” + </p> + <p> + “Tallentia, perhaps,” Brinnaria hazarded. + </p> + <p> + “Impossible,” Flexinna declared. “You remember how recklessly she rode and + how her horse f-f-fell on her. She has limped ever since and always will.” + </p> + <p> + “Cuppiena?” suggested Brinnaria. + </p> + <p> + “Not she,” said Flexinna; “she has some k-k-kind of skin rash and has lost + almost all her hair.” + </p> + <p> + “Sabbia,” Brinnaria proposed. + </p> + <p> + “Her mother’s d-d-dead too,” Flexinna reminded her; “has been for months.” + </p> + <p> + “Fremnia,” came the next suggestion. + </p> + <p> + “She’s off to Aquileia with her family,” said Flexinna; “they all left the + d-d-day your folks went.” + </p> + <p> + “Eppia,” ventured Brinnaria. + </p> + <p> + “She’s ten years old now,” Flexinna demurred. “She celebrated her + b-b-birthday three days before the Kalends. I was at the party.” + </p> + <p> + “Pennasia, perhaps,” Brinnaria suggested. + </p> + <p> + “D-d-deaf in one ear like her mother and grandmother,” said Flexinna, “and + you know it.” + </p> + <p> + “Licinia,” Brinnaria ventured. + </p> + <p> + “She’d be the last they’d choose on account of the b-b-bad luck Vestals of + her family have had;” Flexinna reminded her. “The very name suggests + disgrace. Anyhow, she’s in Baiae with her p-p-people.” + </p> + <p> + “Rentulana,” came the next conjecture. + </p> + <p> + “Has a b-b-big wen on the side of her head,” Flexinna proclaimed. + </p> + <p> + “Numledia?” came next. + </p> + <p> + “You’ve lost your memory, Brinnaria,” said Flexinna, severely. “She’s got + a b-b-big purple birthmark on her neck.” + </p> + <p> + “Magnonia,” Brinnaria proposed. + </p> + <p> + “She’s far away, in Britain, with her father and mother; might as well be + out of the world.” + </p> + <p> + Brinnaria was at a loss. She meditated. “Gavinna!” she said at last. + </p> + <p> + “She has a bad squint and you know it,” laughed Flexinna. “Why don’t you + think of an eligible c-c-candidate?” + </p> + <p> + They tried a dozen more names, all of girls out of the city or defective + in some way, or with one parent dead. + </p> + <p> + “But who will it be?” Brinnaria wondered. “It’s bound to be somebody and + quick.” + </p> + <p> + She jumped to her feet. + </p> + <p> + She screamed. + </p> + <p> + “They’ll take me! They’ll take me! Oh, what am I to do, what am I to do? + I’m the only possible candidate in the city. And they’ll be after me the + moment they run over the lists and find no one else is in town.” + </p> + <p> + She stood a moment, considering, then she called Guntello, and a lean + Caledonian slave called Intinco. She gave them each a written + journey-order to show to any patrol that questioned them, told Guntello to + take the best horse in the stable and to give the next best to Intinco, + bade Intinco ride to Carsioli and Guntello to Falerii, gave Guntello a + letter for Almo and Intinco a letter to her father and told them verbally, + in case the letter was lost, to make it plain that she was in danger of + being taken for a Vestal and bid her father come quickly to interfere and + her lover to ride fast to claim her in time. She enjoined both slaves to + spur their horses, gave them money in case they needed to hire fresh + mounts and wound up: + </p> + <p> + “Kill Rhaebus, kill Xanthus, kill as many hired horses as need be, ride + without halt or mercy. Get there and get father and Almo here. Be quick. + You can’t be too quick.” + </p> + <p> + She watched them ride off at a sedate walk, for no man was allowed to trot + a horse in the streets of Rome. Both had assured her that they would ride + at full gallop from the moment they passed the gates. + </p> + <p> + Then began for Brinnaria a tense and anxious period of waiting. Flexinna + obtained her parents’ permission and remained with her friend. The entire + household continued in good health and there was nothing to distract t he + two from their dread on the one hand that the Pontifex might come to claim + Brinnaria before Almo and her father arrived, and their hope on the other + hand of seeing them come in time. + </p> + <p> + On the whole the strain told on Flexinna more than on Brinnaria, who never + once shed a tear, attended to her housewifely duties calmly and steadily + and talked little. Flexinna fidgeted constantly and talked a good deal. + </p> + <p> + “If I were in your place,” she said, “I shouldn’t be waiting here inertly + for Faltonius to come and claim me. Instead of dispatching messengers for + your father and Almo, you ought to have left the city at once and made + your best speed for Carsioli yourself.” + </p> + <p> + “I couldn’t,” Brinnaria declared, “and you know why. I passed my word to + stay in this house and not so much as to go out unless some compelling + necessity arose. I pledged myself not to leave here unless I sent a + messenger saying I needed to leave and received permission before I + started. I took my oath not to cross the city limits without Father’s + consent. I can’t break my oath and I shouldn’t break my word, even if I + hadn’t sworn in addition to promising.” + </p> + <p> + “You f-f-fool!” Flexinna declared. + </p> + <p> + “All members of our clan keep their word,” said Brinnaria proudly. “We do + not ask whether it is advantageous to keep our word or pleasant; when we + have passed our word we keep it. I’ve given my word and there’s nothing to + do but to wait for Almo and Daddy and hope that both, or at least a + message from Daddy will get here before Faltonius.” + </p> + <p> + “There is something else you might do,” Flexinna suggested. “You might + easily arrange to be ineligible before Bambilio comes for you.” + </p> + <p> + “I shall,” spoke the matter-of-fact Brinnaria. “The moment Daddy and Almo + come, I’ll be Alma’s wife in less time than it takes to tell it and will + be able to snap my fingers at Bambilio.” + </p> + <p> + “Suppose he comes before your father,” Flexinna suggested. + </p> + <p> + “I’d be a Vestal and all hope gone,” said Brinnaria, + </p> + <p> + “I mean,” said Flexinna, “suppose Almo comes before your father.” + </p> + <p> + “I’ve thought of that,” Brinnaria admitted. “But I’d hate to break the + record of which our family is so proud. None of our women ever were so + much as accused of any misbehavior before marriage.” + </p> + <p> + “I’ve no p-p-patience with you,” Flexinna raged. “You’ll throw away your + life for a mere scruple. You risk being made a Vestal every moment. + Faltonius may be on the way here now. If I were in your place I’d make + sure. I’d not wait for Almo. Any lad would do for me. You c-c-could make + sure, if you had sense. Almo would forgive you and marry you anyway. Your + father would forgive you; he’d never approve, I know.” + </p> + <p> + “Not he!” Brinnaria proclaimed, “and he’ll never have any such dishonor to + forgive. No man of our clan ever had reason to be ashamed of his daughter + or of his sister. I’ll not be the first to disgrace the clan. If Faltonius + comes he’ll find me as eligible as the hour I was born, unless Daddy and + Almo come in time for me to be married first.” + </p> + <p> + “At least,” Flexinna persisted, “you might say no when he asks you. That + would stall the whole ceremony and give you t-t-time.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you suppose,” Brinnaria sneered, “that I haven’t thought of that? I’m + tempted, of course. But that would be to advertise myself a disgrace to + the Pontifex during a solemn interrogatory.” + </p> + <p> + “At least,” Flexinna pleaded, “you might say you are over age. You look + sixteen to anybody, and no one would imagine you are under fourteen. You + could halt the proceedings, at least, and gain t-t-time.” + </p> + <p> + “Faltonius has the lists,” said Brinnaria wearily, “with all the birthdays + sworn to by both parents for every girl on them and attested by four + excellent witnesses, besides. He’d know I was lying and it would do me no + good.” + </p> + <p> + Flexinna changed the subject. + </p> + <p> + But when the next day dawned and neither Brinnarius nor Almo appeared, she + returned to the attack. Brinnaria was very pale, very tense, but obdurate. + She controlled herself, did not forget, did not express her feelings, but + she posted a slave at each street corner, right and left of the + house-door, and had them look out for what she hoped and what she feared. + </p> + <p> + Dastor brought word that the Pontifex and his retinue were approaching; + three litters, each with eight bearers, preceded by the lictor of the + Chief Vestal. + </p> + <p> + Brinnaria, pale and tense, did her best to look collected and controlled. + She succeeded well, heard calmly the announcement of her august visitors, + ordered them shown into the atrium, and received them with proper dignity. + Her self-possession did not desert her when she recognized in the train of + the Pontifex her rejected suitor Calvaster, sly, malignant and with an air + of suppressed elation. + </p> + <p> + Faltonius Bambilio, the Pontifex of Vesta, was a pursy, pudgy, pompous old + man, immensely self-important, almost ridiculous in his fussiness, but + clothed with a certain impressiveness by the mere fact of his religious + office. He gazed about him, stared at Brinnaria, hemmed and hawed and + threw himself into poses intended to be stately. + </p> + <p> + With him was Causidiena, now Chief Vestal, a tall, spare woman of about + forty-five, her austere face kindly and reassuring, her dark hair barely + showing under her official head-dress, a statuesque figure in her white + robes of office. + </p> + <p> + “My daughter,” spoke Faltonius to Brinnaria, “Rome has but five Vestals. I + have come to take you into the vacant place. You have been chosen, as best + suited to this high dignity, from among those whose names were on the + lists of those fit for the office. Was it proper that your name should be + on the lists?” + </p> + <p> + “I believe so,” spoke Brinnaria, weakly, almost in a whisper. + </p> + <p> + “Are you fit to be taken as a Vestal, my daughter?” + </p> + <p> + “I believe so,” came the answer. + </p> + <p> + “Have you any blemish or defect of body, any impediment of speech, any + difficulty of hearing?” + </p> + <p> + Brinnaria’s awe was wearing off, and the irritating pomposity of Faltonius + was producing its usual effect of arousing antagonism, as it generally did + in those he talked to. Brinnaria felt all her wild self surge up in her. + </p> + <p> + “I’m sound as a two-year-old racing filly,” she replied. “I’m clean as + fresh curd; I hear you perfectly and you can hear me perfectly.” + </p> + <p> + Bambilio bristled like a bantam rooster. + </p> + <p> + “That is not the way for a Vestal to speak,” he rebuked. + </p> + <p> + “I’m not a Vestal yet,” Brinnaria retorted, “and that was my answer to + those questions. If you don’t like it I don’t care a shred of bran.” + </p> + <p> + “Come! come!” fussed Bambilio, “answer the interrogatories properly.” + </p> + <p> + “I have and I shall,” Brinnaria maintained mutinously. + </p> + <p> + “Are you fit in mind and in faculties to be a Vestal?” he continued. + </p> + <p> + “Fit to be Flaminica or Empress,” Brinnaria responded. + </p> + <p> + “Are you pure?” came the next query. + </p> + <p> + “As when I was born,” said Brinnaria emphatically. + </p> + <p> + “What is your age?” the Pontifex queried his victim. + </p> + <p> + “I’ll be ten on the Ides of next September,” quoth his victim. + </p> + <p> + “Are your parents both alive?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “They were the last time I heard of them,” spoke Brinnaria flippantly. + </p> + <p> + “When was that?” he insisted. + </p> + <p> + “This is the twelfth day since they left Rome,” said Brinnaria, “and I’ve + not heard from them since they sent a messenger back from the ninth + milestone on the road to Tibur.” + </p> + <p> + Faltonius was irritating her more and more, and she added: + </p> + <p> + “They may both be dead by this time, for all I know.” + </p> + <p> + “This will not do,” spoke Faltonius. “We must be sure that they are both + alive.” + </p> + <p> + “Find out,” snapped Brinnaria. + </p> + <p> + Up spoke young Calvaster, his pasty face alight with a sort of malicious + glee. + </p> + <p> + “I passed Quartilla’s travelling carriage at Varia last night. Quartilla + was alive and well. I passed Brinnarius this morning at dawn, this side of + Tibur. He was alive then and puffing.” + </p> + <p> + “How did you get here ahead of him?” Brinnaria interjected. + </p> + <p> + “I am light built,” Calvaster explained with obvious relish, “and I rode + the best horse in Italy. His mount labored heavily under his load.” + </p> + <p> + “Both parents are then alive,” spoke Faltonius. “I hereupon and hereby + pronounce you in all respects fit to be taken as a Vestal. Are you + willing?” + </p> + <p> + “Not I!” Brinnaria fairly shouted. + </p> + <p> + “Not willing!” Faltonius cried, incredulous. + </p> + <p> + “Not a fibre of me!” she proclaimed emphatically. + </p> + <p> + “Wretched girl!” expostulated the Pontiff. “Have you no sense of + patriotism? Do you not realize your duty to your country, to the Roman + people, to Rome, to the Emperor, to all of us, to the commonwealth? Do you + not realize Rome’s need of you? Shall it be said that Rome has need of one + of her daughters and that her unnatural child refuses?” + </p> + <p> + “I have not refused,” said Brinnaria. “I only said I was unwilling.” + </p> + <p> + “It is the same thing,” declared the bewildered ecclesiastic. + </p> + <p> + “Not a bit the same thing,” Brinnaria disclaimed. “I know my duty in this + matter perfectly. Castor be good to me, I know it too well. I know that a + refusal would avail me nothing, if I did refuse. I have not refused. I + would not, even if I could escape by refusal I realize my duty. If I am + taken I shall be all that a Vestal is expected to be, all that she must be + to ensure the glory and prosperity and safety of the city and the Empire. + I shall not fail the Emperor nor the Roman people, nor Rome. But I am + unwilling, and I said so. Little good it will do me. But I am no liar, not + even in the tightest place.” + </p> + <p> + “Stand up, my daughter,” said Faltonius, rising himself, suddenly clothed + in dignity, a really impressive figure, in spite of his globular + proportions. + </p> + <p> + Brinnaria stood, her eyes on the door to the vestibule, her face very + pale, trembling a little, but controlled. + </p> + <p> + The Pontifex took her hand and spoke: + </p> + <p> + “As priestess of Vesta, to perform those rites which it is fitting that a + priestess of Vesta perform for the Roman People and the citizens, as a + girl who has been chosen properly, so I take you, Beloved.” + </p> + <p> + At the word “Beloved,” which made her irretrievably a Vestal, Brinnaria + could not repress a little gasp. Her eyes no longer watched the vestibule + door. She looked at the Pontiff. He let go her hand. + </p> + <p> + “You will now go with your servitor to be clothed as befits your calling.” + </p> + <p> + He indicated one of Causidiena’s attendants, a solidly built woman, like a + Tuscan villager, who carried over her arm a mass of fresh white garments + and robes. + </p> + <p> + With her and Causidiena Brinnaria left the atrium; with them she presently + returned, a slim white figure, her hair braided and the six braids wound + round her forehead like a coronet, above them the folds of the plain + square headdress of the Vestals. + </p> + <p> + “I thought,” she said, “that my hair would be cut off.” + </p> + <p> + “That will be after you are made at home in the Atrium of Vesta,” spoke + the Pontiff. + </p> + <p> + “And remember,” he continued sternly, “that you are now a Vestal and that + young Vestals may not speak unless spoken to.” + </p> + <p> + Brinnaria bit her lip. + </p> + <p> + At that moment they heard hoofs and voices outside, the door burst open + and Brinnarius entered. + </p> + <p> + “Too late, Daddy!” cried Brinnaria. “You can’t help me now. I’m not your + little girl any more; I don’t count as your daughter; you don’t count as + my father; I’m daughter to the Pontifex from now on. I’m a Vestal.” + </p> + <p> + She was trembling, but she kept her countenance. Brinnarius uttered no + sound, the whole gathering was still and mute, the noises of the street + outside were plainly audible. They heard horse-hoofs again, again the door + flew open wide. In burst Almo, wide-eyed and panting. + </p> + <p> + At him Brinnaria launched a sort of shriek of expostulation. + </p> + <p> + “Why couldn’t you ride! You call yourself a horseman! And you’ve come too + late! I mustn’t even kiss you good-bye. And I mustn’t speak to you, I + mustn’t see you, I mustn’t so much as think of you for thirty years, for + thirty years, <i>for thirty years</i>!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER V - ESCAPADES + </h2> + <p> + WHEN Brinnaria found herself actually domiciled in the House of the + Vestals she experienced an odd mingling of awe and elation. The mere size + of it was impressive, for it was nearly two hundred feet wide and almost + four hundred feet long. Also it stood alone, bounded by four streets. + Besides, it gained much dignity from its location, near the southeast + corner of the great Forum of Rome, that most famous of all city squares, + and under the very shadow of the Imperial Palace, the walls of which + towered nearly three hundred feet above it, where it crouched as it were, + on a site scooped out of the huge flank of the Palatine Hill. + </p> + <p> + Completely as it was dominated by the enormous bulk of the Palace it yet + looked very large, having three lofty stories. Inside it was both spacious + and stately. Brinnaria was habituated to space and stateliness, for her + father’s house had both, yet the Atrium of Vesta, as the House of the + Vestals was officially denominated, impressed her as vast and splendid. + That this immense and magnificent building was to be her home gave her + sense of her own importance that thrilled her through and through. Its + numerous retinue of deft and obsequious maid-servants added to this + impression. Brinnaria’s personal attendants, entirely at her beck and call + and serving her alone, made up a considerable retinue by themselves. She + found herself, like each of the other Vestals, served by a special + waitress at table, by a waitress who had nothing to do but look after her + wants. Then she had a sort of maid-of-honor, who had no duties except to + act as companion, make herself agreeable, read aloud, if requested, + accompany her on her outings and help to pass her leisure pleasantly. As + she was a mere child in years she had a sort of governess to instruct her + in all those subjects in which a Roman girl of good family was generally + given lessons: correct reading; a smattering of mathematics, about + equivalent to the simple arithmetic of our days; some knowledge of + literature; a steady and efficient drill in reading and talking Greek; + instrumental music, similar to the guitar-playing of modern times, and + embroidery. She had a personal maid to bathe her, arrange her hair and + otherwise make her comfortable; also a special maid to attend to her + private apartment, which included what we would call a sitting-room, a + tiny bedroom, and a large bath-room. The largest room was used mostly as a + school-room for lessons with her instructress. Outside the Atrium + Brinnaria had her private stable, her carriages, her coachman and ostlers, + and her lictor, the red-cloaked runner, who preceded her carriage, + announced its coming and cleared the way for it through the crowds of + foot-passengers who thronged the streets of Rome. Life in the Atrium was + austere and formal, but in no respect ascetic. The austerities extended + only to attire and behavior. The decorations of the courtyard, of the + corridors and stairs, of the two hundred rooms, were bewilderingly varied + and overpoweringly gorgeous. Every appointment of the Atrium was luxurious + to the last degree; the furnishings were beautiful and precious, every + object a work of art; the bathrooms cunningly devised for comfort, the + beds deep and soft, scarcely less so the sofas on which the Vestals + reclined at their meals, the table service of exquisite glass-ware and + elaborately chased silver, the food abundant and including every delicacy + and rarity most appetizing and enjoyable. + </p> + <p> + Except Meffia her co-Vestals were immediately liked and speedily loved by + Brinnaria. Meffia, a month older than herself and looking six years + younger, was a small, awkward, ungainly girl, with pale blue eyes, pale + yellow hair and babyish pink complexion. She had never had an ill hour in + her life, yet she always appeared ailing, shrank from any effort, hated + exercise and exertion and at every necessity for movement asserted that + she was tired, often that she felt weak. Brinnaria thought her merely + innately lazy and a natural shirk. The more she saw of her the more her + loathing for her and her hatred of her intensified. Quite the reverse with + the others. Manlia was a large young woman of about twenty-two, a typical + Roman aristocrat, her hair between dark brown and black, her complexion + swarthy, her figure abundant. Gargilia was older than Manlia; a tall, + slender creature with intensely black hair and piercing black eyes that + looked straight at you out of a face healthfully tinted indeed, but of a + whiteness which was the envy of half the beauties in Rome. Numisia + Maximilla was much like an older Manlia, but sparer and of markedly + haughty bearing and carriage. Causidiena, newly become Chief Vestal, was a + woman of about forty-five years of age, mild, gentle, and charming, with + cool gray eyes and glossy brown hair, a being who aroused affection, + inspired admiration and compelled love from all her household. + </p> + <p> + She won Brinnaria’s heart at once by telling her that she herself, when + she had first entered the Atrium of Vesta, had found it difficult to learn + the etiquette of the order, had wanted to shout and sing and laugh out + loud, to run up and down stairs instead of walking, to skip and jump. + </p> + <p> + That Causidiena had triumphed over similar tendencies comforted Brinnaria + and helped her to try to overcome her own. Most difficult to curb was her + tendency to be rude to Meffia. This Causidiena noticed at once and set + herself to obliterate. Brinnaria unbosomed herself and Causidiena listened + so sympathetically that Brinnaria sat silent through the long lecture that + followed and was very submissive during a searching interrogatory. She + promised to comport herself as a Vestal should. + </p> + <p> + “But,” she said, “I shall suffer. That girl is unpleasant in ten thousand + ways, but the smell of her is the most unpleasant thing about her. She’s + been tubbed and scrubbed and massaged and perfumed twice a day ever since + I came here and she smells worse than a polecat, anyhow, all day long, + even the moment after her maid has finished her toilet. A whiff of Meffia + sets me frantic. I’d be capable of any crime to get rid of her.” + </p> + <p> + More lecturing followed. + </p> + <p> + “But it’s true!” Brinnaria maintained. “You can’t help smelling her + yourself; she smells like nothing else on earth. It isn’t the smell of a + dirty girl or of an ill girl, nor the smell of a girl at all or of any + kind of a human being. I can’t describe it, but it’s a thin sour smell, + sharp and shrill like the note of a cricket, if a sound and a smell can be + compared. It’s horrible; it’s not human.” + </p> + <p> + More lecturing, a long session of lecturing, followed this outburst. At + the end of it the victim was meek and pliable, or so professed herself. + For at least five days Brinnaria kept up her effort to be comradely with + Meffia. By the sixth day she was completely exhausted and the two avoided + each other as before. + </p> + <p> + Agonies indeed Brinnaria suffered in her efforts to live up to + Causidiena’s ideas of what she should be. On the whole she succeeded + pretty well and committed few errors of deportment. Outwardly she + controlled herself from the first; for, before her first cowed sensations + had worn off, her adoration of Causidiena had gained full sway over her. + Yet inwardly she suffered more and more acutely as time went on, partly + feeling that she must burst out in spite of herself, partly dreading that + she would. + </p> + <p> + At last, after many days, she perpetrated her first and most undignified + prank. It was a terrific occurrence, judged by the standards of the + Atrium. + </p> + <p> + The great peristyle of the House of the Vestals, including nearly + three-fourths of the whole courtyard, was beautified with a splendid + double colonnade, two tiers of pillars, one above the other, the lower of + delicately mottled Carystian marble wavily veined with green streaks + varying its whiteness, the upper of coral-red brecchia. Midway of the + court was a tank lined with marbles and always filled with clear water. + </p> + <p> + One morning Meffia, walking about the court, in her irritatingly aimless + fashion, passed between Brinnaria and the edge of the tank. There was no + earthly reason for her so doing, as Brinnaria was barely a yard from the + margin of the pool, and on the other side of Brinnaria was the ample + expanse of the pavement of the spacious court. + </p> + <p> + Brinnaria was exasperated by Meffia’s proximity, by her lackadaisical + manner, by her shambling gait, by her sleep-walking attitude, most of all + by the peculiar thin, sour odor which Meffia exhaled. At the sight of + Meffia’s elaborately disagreeable demeanor of isolation, all Brinnaria’s + natural self began to boil in her; at the whiff which assailed her + nostrils she boiled over, all her uncurbed instincts surging up at once. + She put out one foot and gave Meffia a push. + </p> + <p> + Meffia, with a squall and a great splash, fell into the tank. + </p> + <p> + She not only fell in, but she went under the water. + </p> + <p> + She went under and did not come up. + </p> + <p> + For an instant Brinnaria thought she was shamming to scare her; but, in a + twinkling she realized that Meffia had fainted. + </p> + <p> + Promptly she plunged in and rescued her victim. + </p> + <p> + Numisia, hurrying to the sound of Meffia’s squawk, was horrified at the + sight of a dripping Vestal toiling up the steps of the tank carrying over + her shoulder another Vestal, equally dripping and limp as a meal-sack, her + arms and legs trailing horribly. + </p> + <p> + Agitation at Meffia’s prolonged insensibility postponed inquiry as to how + she came to fall into the tank. It so happened that Causidiena first + questioned some of the maid-servants, who all hated Meffia and liked + Brinnaria. Therefore the ones interrogated told a story as much at + variance with the facts as they saw fit. + </p> + <p> + Brinnaria, after she was again dry-clad, quaked inwardly in anticipation + of Causidiena’s wrath and suffered a good deal more at the thought of her + pained, silent displeasure. Hours passed, long hours passed and nothing + was said on the subject. From none of her sister Vestals did she hear a + word of reproach, not one of them behaved towards her any differently from + what was usual. + </p> + <p> + Finally one of the maids enlightened Brinnaria. Promptly she sought a + private audience with Causidiena. First she made sure that none of the + maids would suffer for their duplicity and partiality; then she confessed. + </p> + <p> + The Chief Vestal was not wrathful, not even stern. She talked mildly and + gently, yet made Brinnaria feel very much ashamed of herself and acutely + penitent. + </p> + <p> + The end of the interview was that Causidiena said: + </p> + <p> + “You are such a robust child that you do not realize how frail Meffia is. + She is perfectly healthy, but is very easily unnerved or exhausted. You + have given her such a shock that she is unfit for duty. Any Vestal is + allowed to be ill for two nights and one day, if the trouble seems + trifling. But, if any Vestal is ill for a longer time, she is promptly + removed from the Atrium for nursing. I fear that Meffia may not recover + within the permitted time. I am most anxious that there should be as few + as possible cases of recorded illness in the Atrium under my management. + As you have caused the situation you must help me to avoid what I fear. Go + to Meffia and nurse her out of this and get her about to-morrow morning.” + </p> + <p> + “Castor be good to me!” Brinnaria cried. “Smell that girl for a day and a + night! Whew! Pretty severe punishment! But I deserve that and worse. And + I’ll do anything for you, Causidiena.” + </p> + <p> + Meffia hated Brinnaria cordially, yet she found her a deft, tactful and + silent nurse. But the very sight of Brinnaria was to her an irritant + tonic. She was entirely fit for duty the next day, not a trace of + slackness, unwillingness or sullenness. + </p> + <p> + Causidiena early made up her mind that Brinnaria’s intentions were good + and that she was far from planning her outbursts. She had herself no + prevision of what was coming, not an inkling of what was about to happen, + she blurted out her shocking remarks without herself knowing what she was + going to say and was overwhelmed with confusion when her own ears heard + the totally unexpected words which she had uttered; she contemplated + aghast the havoc she had wrought. Generally she made a pretty fair attempt + at demeaning herself as a Vestal should; but, every once in a while, + without warning, something of her old wild self surged up in her and the + speech was spoken or the action completed before she realized she was + about to speak or act at all. + </p> + <p> + One such freak gave her a sort of notoriety, brought her name to the lips + of every gossip in Rome. + </p> + <p> + She was as pleased with her privileges as a normal child of her age with a + set of new toys, as warily insistent on them as any aristocrat of her + build and appearance. + </p> + <p> + She learned the precise nature and extent of her prerogatives and did her + utmost to enjoy them all. Being an adept at accounts she ascertained the + character of the various estates and investments that went to make up the + great property which was her jointure as a Vestal, made sure of the exact + income from each of its components, also the total amount; both how far + she was allowed to have her way in spending it and how soon she would be + free of supervision in that respect. She made her will before she had been + a Vestal for a month, leaving all her property to Almo, should she die + before him; but the whole to the order of Vestals if he died before her. + </p> + <p> + Of all her privileges the one she enjoyed most was the right to drive + where she pleased through the city in her private carriage, with her + lictor running ahead and clearing the way for it. Carriage-driving within + the city limits was restricted in Rome by severe regulations rigorously + enforced.* Ordinary travelling carriages might use only the great main + thoroughfares leading to the city gates. The owner of one, unless he + happened to live on one of those chief arteries of the traffic, might not + step from his house door into his carriage but must have it halted at some + point on the permitted avenues and must reach it on foot or by litter. But + there was no street or alley in Rome wide enough for a carriage which a + Vestal might not drive through; a. Vestal might drive anywhere. Brinnaria + was first taken out driving by Causidiena and Numisia, then by the others + in succession. Driving with Meffia was no pleasure to her, but it was the + etiquette of the order that each Vestal in turn should offer the courtesy + of her carriage to a new member of the sisterhood. + </p> + <p> + *In fact, wheeled vehicles except for those of the Emperor and the Vestals + were forbidden in the city during the daytime. + </p> + <p> + After that formality had been complied with Brinnaria was permitted to + drive where she pleased, with what guest she chose, or accompanied only by + her official companion or by her maid. Systematically she drove + everywhere, once alone with her maid, once with each of the other Vestals, + often with her mother, often with Flexinna. It gave her great pleasure to + drive up the long zigzag approach to the Capitol, where no human being + save the Vestals and the Empress might be driven, and where few Empresses + had ever ventured to drive, to have her carriage halted before the great + Temple of Jupiter, Juno and Minerva, where no carriage except the + carriages of the Vestals had been seen for more than a hundred years, to + enter the temple and say her prayers. It gave her even more pleasure to + take her mother or Flexinna with her, as was her privilege; to make them + sharers in her right to be driven to Rome’s chief temple, to which all + other Romans, even the Emperors, must walk or be carried by + litter-bearers. + </p> + <p> + She discovered another privilege of her position. Roman women of the + better classes never went out of doors alone. On the streets a lady, if + not companioned by one or more equals, was always accompanied by a + maid-servant. This had been the custom from time immemorial and had come + to have the force of a moral law. The sight of a woman of wealth and + position entirely alone in her carriage would have been startling, to see + a lady in her litter without a maid walking behind the bearers would have + been shocking: the spectacle of a lady alone on foot would have given + scandal. + </p> + <p> + But, by some survival of the simplicity of the manners in those primitive + days in which the order originated, the Vestals were exceptions to this + mandatory fashion. A Vestal might never go abroad on foot, except in one + of the solemn processions. But, in her litter or her carriage, she might + go anywhere in Rome unaccompanied, protected only by her lictor and her + bearers or coachman. This privilege, like many others, marked the Vestals + as being apart from and exalted above the rest of woman-kind. + </p> + <p> + As soon as Brinnaria learned that she possessed this right she proceeded + to exercise it. Though she felt lonesome when driving alone and enjoyed + her outing far more when she had a companion, yet she drove alone day + after day, merely because it was her prerogative. So driving she had, in + one day, two thrilling experiences. She had told her coachman to drive + where he pleased and hardly noticed where she was being driven. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly turning from a side street into one of the main thoroughfares of + the city, she encountered the co-Emperor Lucius Verus with his official + escort. It was during the busy days preceding his departure for Antioch + and his great campaign against the Parthians. Verus, roused from his + devotion to sport and pleasure, was feverish with enthusiasm and full of + mercurial energy. He bustled in and out of Rome, inspecting camps, + presiding at ceremonials and keeping everything in a ferment. + </p> + <p> + That day he was returning from an inspection amid a large and gorgeous + retinue. Brinnaria had a blurred vision of splendid uniforms and dazzling + accoutrements. Her vision was blurred because her eyes filled with tears; + she turned hot and cold and almost fainted with emotion, when the + Emperor’s twenty-four lictors lowered their fasces, the whole procession + halted, the escort and the Emperor himself swerved their horses aside to + let her pass and remained at the salute until she had passed. The sudden + realization of the importance of her official position overwhelmed her. + </p> + <p> + As she drove on, when she recovered herself, she meditated on the + experience, and told herself that she must live up to her exalted station, + that she must never, never, never for such as one instant, forget herself + or behave otherwise than as became a Vestal. On the very same drive, + before she returned to the Atrium, she completely forgot herself. + </p> + <p> + It was a hot, sultry afternoon and it suited her coachman to drive + homeward along the Subura, that thronged and unsavory Bowery of ancient + Rome. Three street urchins were teasing and maltreating a rough coated, + muddy little cur. Brinnaria called imperiously to her lictor to interfere. + He was too far ahead to hear her. Her coachman had all he could do to + control her mettlesome span of Spanish mares. She spoke to the boys and + they laughed at her. Before she knew it she had flung open her carriage + door, had leapt out, had cuffed soundly the ears of the three dumbfounded + gamins, and was back among her cushions, the dog in her arms. + </p> + <p> + This escapade brought upon her a visit from the Pontifex of Vesta, the + semi-globular Faltonius Bambilio, diffusing pomposity. From him she had to + listen to a long lecture on deportment and to a reading of the minutes of + the meeting of the College of Pontiffs which had discussed her public + misbehavior. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VI - NOTORIETY + </h2> + <p> + WITHIN a month she did far worse. She perpetrated, in fact, a deed with + the fame of which not only the city, but the Empire rang; made herself + notorious everywhere. + </p> + <p> + It was on the occasion of her introductory visit to the Colosseum when, + for the first time, she was a spectator at an exhibition of fighting + gladiators. She was in a high-strung state of elation and anticipation. + Going to the Amphitheatre, in itself, was a soul-stirring experience. + Meffia, to Brinnaria’s joy, had been on duty that day, along with Numisia. + This alone was enough to put Brinnaria in a good humor. Meffia’s presence + spoiled for her any sort of pleasure. Then, besides, they drove to the + Colosseum, not in their light carriages, but two by two in their gorgeous + state coaches, huge vehicles, of which the woodwork was elaborately carved + and heavily gilded and whose cushions and curtains were all of that + splendid official color, the imperial purple. The name conveys to us a + false impression, for the hue known then as imperial purple was not what + we should call a purple, but a deep, dark crimson, like the tint of claret + in a goblet. Against a background of this magnificent color, the Vestals, + habited all in white, showed conspicuously. Their stately progress through + the streets, gazed at and pointed at by the admiring crowds, was conducive + to high spirits. Still more so was it to be ushered obsequiously through + cool corridors and up carpeted stairs to the Vestals’ private loge, a + roomy space immediately to the right of the imperial pavilion. To be + inside the Colosseum at last set her eyes dancing and her heart thumping; + the anticipation of actually viewing the countless fights of many hundreds + of gladiators increased her excitement; to be seated in front seats, with + nothing but the carved stone coping between her and the arena was most + exhilarating of all. She was delighted with her great, carved arm-chair, + deeply cushioned and so heavy that it was as firm on its solid oak legs as + if bolted to the stone floor. She settled herself in it luxuriously, gazed + across the smooth yellow sand, glanced up at the gay, parti-colored + awning, and then conned the vast audience, line after line of rose-crowned + heads rising tier above tier all about her. + </p> + <p> + She scanned the faces in the front row to left and right as far as she + could make them out clearly. She peered across the open space of the + arena, puckering her eyes to see better. When she caught sight of what she + was looking for she turned timidly, leaned past Manlia and asked + Causidiena: + </p> + <p> + “May I wave my hand to mother?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly, my child,” Causidiena assured her. + </p> + <p> + Brinnaria waved her little hand and was seen, and felt the thrill of a + general family handwaving in reply. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly she experienced a qualm of bashfulness, as if every one in the + enormous gathering were looking at her, watching her. She cast down her + eyes, wrapped her white robe close about her, hiding her hands under it, + and shrank into her arm-chair. For a while, for a long while, she fanned + herself nervously, very slowly, and striving to appear calm. Gradually she + became calm and laughed to herself at her own folly, realizing that nobody + was noticing her. + </p> + <p> + Nobody noticed her. Many spectators noticed the Vestals, but no one + noticed her individually. This she realized acutely before the day was + over. + </p> + <p> + At about the time when she began to feel herself at ease the entrance of + the Emperor and his suite distracted her attention from herself. When the + trumpet blew, announcing the approach of the Imperial party, a hush fell + on the vast audience and all eyes turned towards the grand pavilion. When + the trumpet blew the second time, just before the Emperor came in sight, + the hush deepened and the spectators watched intently. When his head + appeared as he mounted the stairs the audience burst into the short, + sharply staccato song of welcome, something like a tuneful, sing-song + college yell, with which Roman crowds greeted their master. This vocal + salute, a mere tag of eight or nine syllables, each with its distinctive + note, was repeated over and over until the Emperor was seated. + </p> + <p> + Then the audience settled themselves into their seats. Brinnaria had + instinctively started to rise when she caught sight of the Emperor. Manlia + had put out a restraining hand. The Vestals, alone of all Romans, remained + seated in the presence of the Emperor, not even rising when he appeared. + </p> + <p> + Marcus Aurelius was a tall, spare man of over forty years of age, with + abundant hair curling in long ringlets over his chest and shoulders, and a + full beard mingling with the carefully disposed curls. He was a + serious-faced man, careworn and solemn. + </p> + <p> + Brinnaria regarded him with interest. She had never seen him so close and + she felt a sudden fellow-feeling for him from the sense of semi-equality + with him that flooded through her at having remained seated. She recalled + vividly the half-dozen times she had watched from balconies the passage of + processions in which the Emperor took part, how her mother had made her + stand up the moment he came in sight and had kept her standing until he + was far away. Her sudden exaltation in social position was borne in upon + her with startling emphasis. Not even her carriage rides had impressed her + so tellingly with the sensation of her own importance in the great world + of Imperial Rome. + </p> + <p> + “How does he look to you?” Manlia asked. They were seated in the order of + their seniority, Causidiena on the right, then Gargilia, Manlia next + Brinnaria. + </p> + <p> + “He looks crushed under his responsibilities and anxieties,” Brinnaria + replied. “He looks depressed, even sad.” + </p> + <p> + “He is all that, poor man,” her neighbor agreed, “and no wonder in these + days. The Parthians are at us on the east, the Germans in the north, and + there have been more than twelve deaths in the palace each day for twenty + consecutive days now. This pestilence is enough to make anybody sad.” + </p> + <p> + “More than that,” Brinnaria countered. “He looks irritated and bored. + Everybody else is alert and keyed up with anticipation. His eyes are dull + and he looks as if he wished that the show was over and he could go home.” + </p> + <p> + “You have read him right,” Manlia told her. “He detests all kinds of + spectacles, takes no interest in races and hates beast-fights. Most of all + he loathes gladiatorial combats. Father has told me about it more than + once and Causidiena says the same thing. I can’t understand it. I never + get tired of sword-fighting, myself. What I like about it is its endless + variety. I never saw any two fights exactly alike, never saw two closely + alike. Each fight is a spectacle by itself, entirely different from any + other. I don’t mean the difference between the fighters in respect to + their equipment and appearance, though that contributes to the variety + also; I mean the difference in posture, method of defense and attack, + style of lunge and parry, and all that; and the countless variations in + form in the men, the subtle differences of character which makes them face + similar situations so very differently. You’ll get the feeling for it in a + half a dozen shows and be as keen on it as the rest of us. + </p> + <p> + “But the Emperor is different. Perhaps it’s because he is such a booky man + and spends so much time in reading and study. But I think not. There never + was anybody more of a bookworm than Numisia and she is as wild over the + shows as any street-boy in Rome. Anyhow, whatever the cause is, that is + the way he is. He was more than surfeited with shows before he was + Emperor. While he was nothing but a boy, soon after he was adopted and + made Caesar, he often had to preside in the Circus or here, when Hadrian + was away travelling and Antonius and Verus were on the frontiers. He used + to bring his tutors with him and have two of them sit on each side of him + a little behind him. Then, after the shows had started, he would put a + tablet on his knee and write a theme or work out a problem in geometry and + when he had finished it, would pass it to one of his tutors for comment, + or he would have them make out sets of questions on history or something + else and he would write out the answers the best he could. Sometimes he + would read. All this he did as calmly as if he were alone in a closed room + with nothing to call off his attention. Yet he was most careful to seem to + watch the shows and would look up every little while and gaze about the + arena. But nothing ever distracted him from his lessons. That is the kind + he is. He simply never cared for this sort of thing. He says that what + oppresses him is the maddening monotony of gladiatorial shows. Fancy + anybody thinking sword-fighting monotonous! But he does. He says every + combat is just like every other. All he sees in a fight is two men facing + each other and one being killed. He gets no thrills from the uncertainties + of the outcome, no pleasure from the dexterity and skill of the fighters. + To him it’s just butchery, and the same kind of butchery over and over. He + says he might get some enjoyment out of a show if something novel would + happen, something he never saw before, something unexpected. But nothing + ever does.” + </p> + <p> + Brinnaria regarded curiously this grave, earnest man, who derived so + little pleasure from the most coveted position on earth. She continued to + watch him until everybody turned to the procession around the arena of all + who were to fight that day, the invariable preliminary of a gladiatorial + show and always a splendid spectacle. When the fights began Brinnaria felt + at first an unexpected tightening of the chest, as if a band were being + drawn tight just under her armpits. Her breath came short and hard and her + heart thumped her ribs. + </p> + <p> + The first sight of blood made her feel faint and the horrible contortions + just below her of a dying man, who writhed in strong convulsions like a + fish out of water, made her qualmish and sick. But all that soon passed + off. She was a Roman and the Romans were professional killers, had been + professional killers for a thousand years. Success in hand to hand combat + with any individual foe was every male Roman’s ideal of the crowning glory + of human life; the thought of it was in every Roman’s mind from early + childhood, every act of life was a preparation for it. Their wives and + sisters shared their enthusiasm for fighting and their daughters inherited + the instinct. Combat on the field of battle was felt as the chief business + of a man, to which all other activities merely led up. By reflected light, + as it were, every kind of combat acquired a glamour in the thoughts of a + Roman. The idea of men killing men, of men being killed by men, was + familiar to all Romans, of whatever sex or age. Brinnaria was not affected + as a modern girl would be by the sight of blood or of death. The novelty + revolted her at first, but only briefly. Soon she was absorbed in the + interest of the fighting. + </p> + <p> + Almost at once her eye was caught by a young and handsome fighter who + reminded her strongly of Almo. + </p> + <p> + His adversary was that kind of gladiator known technically as a secutor, a + burly ruffian in complete armor, with huge shin-guards like jack-boots, a + kilt of broad leather straps hanging in two overlapping rows, the upper + set plated with bronze scales, a bronze corselet, and, fitting closely to + his shoulders, covering head and neck together, a great, heavy helmet. He + carried a large shield, squarish in shape, but curving to fit him as if he + were hiding behind a section of the outer bark of a big tree. He was armed + with a keen, straight bladed Spanish sword. + </p> + <p> + Facing this portentous tower of metal was a gladiator of the sort known as + a retiarius, equipped solely with a long-handled, slender-shafted trident, + like a fisherman’s eel-spear, and a voluminous, wide-meshed net of thin + cord. His only clothing was a scanty body-piece of bright blue. His feet + were small with high-arched insteps. Brinnaria particularly noticed his + perfectly shaped toes. His bare legs, body and arms were in every + proportion the perfection of form, the supple muscles rippling exquisitely + under his warm tanned skin. His face was almost beautiful, with a round + chin, thin curled lips, a straight nose, and a wide brow. Its expression + was lively, even merry, almost roguish, his lips parted in an alert smile, + his blue eyes sparkling. He seemed to enjoy the game in which he was + engaged, to be brimming over with self-confidence, to anticipate success, + to relish his foretaste of combat with a sort of impish delight. + </p> + <p> + Roman children heard as much talk of gladiators as modern children hear of + baseball or cricket. Brinnaria knew perfectly well that the betting on a + set-to between such a pair was customarily five to three against the + secutor and on the retiarius. Yet she felt the sensation usual with + onlookers in such a case, the sensation purposed by the device of pairing + men so differently equipped, the sensation that the mailed secutor was + invincible and the naked retiarius helpless against him. She was keyed up + with interest. + </p> + <p> + In fact the combat was interesting. The secutor, of course, could have + disposed of his antagonist in a trice, if he had only been able to reach + him. But a clumsy, heavy secutor never could reach a nimble, agile + retiarius. The one Brinnaria was watching was more than usually + light-footed and skipped about his adversary in a taunting, teasing way. + Again and again he cast his net intentionally too short, merely to show + how easily he could recover it and escape his opponent’s onset. He danced, + capered, pretended to be lame and that he could not avoid being overtaken, + led his pursuer on, out-manoeuvred him, derided him; twice he lunged + through the flapping straps of his kilt and grazed his thigh. The secutor + was barely scratched, but his blood trickled down his shin-guard and he + was limping. + </p> + <p> + Then, all in a flash, the retiarius pirouetted too rashly, slipped on ton + the sand, fell sprawling, failed to rise in time, and was slashed deeply + all down one calf. He rolled over in a last effort to escape, but the + secutor kicked him in the ribs and, before he could recover, sent the + trident spinning with a second kick and set his foot upon his victim’s + neck. So standing he rolled his eyes over that part of the audience + nearest him to discover whether it was the pleasure of the lookers-on that + the defeated man should be killed or spared. + </p> + <p> + Now it so happened that nearly all the spectators in that part of the + audience were watching a far more exciting contest farther out in the + arena, where two Indian elephants, each manned by a crew of five picked + men, were clashing in a terrific struggle No one, except Brinnaria, had + any eyes for the plight of the young retiarius below them The secutor + beheld indifferent faces gazing over his head The few thumbs he could see + pointed outward. Brinnaria, to be sure, was holding out her right arm, + thumb flat, and doing her best to attract the secutor’s attention. She + failed. He glanced, indeed, at the Vestals, but as three of them sat + impassive he missed Brinnaria’s imperious gesture. He prepared to put his + foe to death. First, however, he looked further along the front rows to + make sure that he had the permission of the general audience, since the + occupants of the Imperial box and of the Vestals loge seemed to ignore + him. + </p> + <p> + Brinnaria perceived that he would probably not look again in her + direction; that as soon as his roving eyes came back from their unhurried + survey of the audience, he would deliver the fatal blow. She quickly + knotted the corner of her robe to the arm of her chair, squirmed out of + it, and threw it over the parapet. The robe of a Roman lady was sleeveless + and seamless, rather like a very long pair of very thin blankets, all in + one piece. Tied, as she had tied it, by one corner, it made a sort of rope + as it hung. She had acted so quickly that no one noticed her, not even + Manlia, who sat next her, staring fascinatedly at the spectacle of the + wrestling elephants and their warring crews. + </p> + <p> + Grasping her robe firmly with both hands, escaping by a hair’s-breadth the + despairing clutch of the horrified Manlia, Brinnaria half vaulted, half + rolled over the parapet, swung sailor-fashion to the rope her robe formed, + went down it, hand over hand, raced across the sand and faced the + victorious secutor. + </p> + <p> + He, although a foreigner and a savage, had been long enough in Rome to + know perfectly what a Vestal was and he recoiled from her in a panic no + less than he would have felt had the goddess Vesta herself come down from + the sky to balk him of his prey. + </p> + <p> + The next instant no one was regarding the death-struggle of the elephants, + nor any other of the scores of fights ended, ending, under way or just + begun. Every human being in the audience was staring at the amazing + spectacle of a Vestal virgin, clad only in her thin, clinging tunic, + standing over a fallen retiarius and facing an appalled and dumbfounded + secutor. + </p> + <p> + The place fell very still. So still that the shrill voice of a + street-gamin, a boy from the Via Sacra, was audible throughout the vast + enclosure from gallery to gallery. He yelled in his cutting falsetto: + “Good for you, Sis!” + </p> + <p> + But his neighbors silenced him at once and not even any other ragamuffin + lifted his voice. The audience were startled mute. They were quite ready + to applaud the girl’s daring, but the shocking impropriety of her breach + of decorum struck them dumb. + </p> + <p> + The Emperor, roused from his meditations by the sudden hush, looked about + him for the cause of it and saw the situation. He leaned forward, arm out, + thumb flat against the extended fingers. The secutor sheathed his sword. + </p> + <p> + Manlia, with great presence of mind, untied the dangling robe and dropped + it over the parapet. One of the arena attendants carried it to Brinnaria + and she put it on. But she would not stir and stood straddling the fallen + lad until one of the Emperor’s aides came out of one of the low doors in + the arena-wall, crossed to her and assured her that the defeated retiarius + would be spared and cared for. Then she suffered herself to be led back to + her seat, by way of the door in the wall and passages and stairs never + meant for any Vestal to tread. + </p> + <p> + Not until they saw Brinnaria move off in charge of the staff-officer did + the audience let loose their pent-up feelings. The place pulsated with a + roar like that of a great waterfall in a deep gorge, salvo after salvo of + cheers swelling and merging. The deep boom of their applause pursued + Brinnaria and made her cower. The people would never forget her now. They + were in ecstasy. She was their darling. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VII - AUDIENCE + </h2> + <p> + ON the drive homeward from that unforgettable gladiatorial exhibition + Manlia and Gargilia shared the second state coach: in the first sat + Brinnaria by Causidiena. + </p> + <p> + “My child,” Causidiena queried, “what ever made you do it?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know,” Brinnaria replied. “I did it before I thought.” + </p> + <p> + “Well!” said her elder philosophically. “It is done now and cannot be + helped. But please try to remember that a Vestal is expected to control + herself at all times, never to act without forethought, to reflect long + before she acts, to do nothing unusual, to be very sure in each instance + that what she is about to do is wholly becoming to a Vestal.” + </p> + <p> + “I’ll keep on trying,” Brinnaria replied mutinously, “but I was not + constructed to be a Vestal. I always knew it; I know it now and I am + afraid I’ll continue my blundering through the conventions. I’m built that + way.” + </p> + <p> + She had to endure a second long lecture from Faltonius Bambilio. She + listened submissively enough, but vouchsafed not one word of self-defence, + rejoinder or comment; and, when urged to speak, she was obstinately + silent. + </p> + <p> + “My daughter,” Faltonius droned at her, “remember that, since your + entrance into the order of Vestals, I stand to you in the relation of + parent to his own child. You should confide in me as in your spiritual + father.” + </p> + <p> + “I should do nothing of the kind,” Brinnaria refuted him. “I know the + statutes of the order better than that. Up to the days of the Divine + Augustus, the Pontifex Maximus inhabited the house next to the house of + the Vestals and stood in the closest relation of fatherhood towards them. + But since he went to live on the Palatine and made us a present of his + house we have occupied all this Atrium which was built in the place of the + two houses. Since then no one has been in the same intimate relation of + control over us. The Emperors have always held the office of Pontifex + Maximus and as such each Emperor has been the spiritual father of the + Vestals. The Emperor is my spiritual father and you are not.” + </p> + <p> + “Your self-opinionated talk does you little credit,” Faltonius retorted. + “Since you know so much you must know also that for many years each + Emperor has designated some priest as Pontifex of Vesta to be his deputy + and to stand in the closest relation of parental oversight towards the + members of your consecrated order; I am that deputy.” + </p> + <p> + “I have no desire to confide in a deputy,” Brinnaria told him, “or to + consider the deputy as my real spiritual father. If I feel inclined to + confide I’ll make my confidences to my genuine spiritual father, not to + his understrapper.” + </p> + <p> + Bambilio was piqued and spoke sourly. + </p> + <p> + “The Emperor,” he said, “will be far from pleased with my report of you.” + </p> + <p> + “It will make no difference to me or to him what you report or whether you + make any report or not,” spoke Brinnaria. “I’m going to have a talk with + him myself.” + </p> + <p> + “Doubtless,” Bambilio meditated. “He has sent for you to rebuke you.” + </p> + <p> + “He has done nothing of the kind,” she retorted vigorously. “He has more + sense. And if he had sent for me I should not have gone. I know my rights. + If he wanted to talk to me, he’d have to come to me here. But as, in this + case, I wanted to talk to him, I have asked for an audience and the day + and the hour have been fixed. I am to have an audience to-morrow morning. + And now, as I am to talk to him myself, I see no reason why I should spend + more time being bored by his deputy. If you please, I should be obliged if + you would terminate this interview.” + </p> + <p> + Astounded and dumb, Faltonius bowed himself out. + </p> + <p> + Causidiena suggested that she accompany Brinnaria on her visit to the + Palace. + </p> + <p> + “It would be lovely to have you with me,” Brinnaria said, “and I am ever + so grateful for your offer. You are a dear and I love you. I shall want + you and wish for you all the way there, all the time I am there and all + the way back. I shall be scared to death. But I must go alone. In the + first place it is my right, if I were only six years old, to have audience + with the Emperor alone whenever I ask for it and as often as I ask for it. + I am not going to abate an iota of my rights merely for my own comfort. In + the second place, I must go through this unhelped and unsupported all by + myself. I know it; I must fight it out alone and come through alone. He’ll + be sympathetic, if I deserve it. If I don’t deserve sympathy from him I + don’t deserve it from you, nor your company and your countenance, either.” + </p> + <p> + Scared Brinnaria was, but even through her worst qualms of panic she was + uplifted by an elating sense of her own importance. Not her encounter with + Verus and his retinue, not her having remained seated when Aurelius + entered the Colosseum had so poignantly made her realize how exalted was a + Vestal. She drove to the Palace alone, not in her light carriage, but in + her huge state coach, feeling very small in her white robes amid all that + crimson upholstery, but also feeling herself a very great personage. + </p> + <p> + Her reception at the Palace made her feel even more so. The magnificence + of the courtyard in which her coach came to a standstill, the ceremonial + of turning out the guard in her honor, the formality with which she was + conducted from corridor to corridor and from hail to hail, the immensity + and gorgeousness of the vast audience hall in which she was finally left + alone with the Emperor; all these did not so much overwhelm her as exalt + her. She felt herself indeed a princess. + </p> + <p> + The Emperor greeted Brinnaria kindly, was as sympathetic as possible and + put her at her ease at once. He soothed her, made her seat herself + comfortably and said: + </p> + <p> + “Don’t worry about what you have done. You are certainly the most + startling Vestal since Gegania, but you have really done nothing actually + wrong. So do not agitate yourself about what cannot be altered. The + question which concerns me is, what will you do next?” + </p> + <p> + “I think,” said Brinnaria, “that the next thing I shall do will be to + procure a good strong rope and hang myself.” + </p> + <p> + “My child,” the shocked Emperor exclaimed, “you really should not speak so + flippantly of so dreadful an idea!” + </p> + <p> + “I’m not a particle flippant this time,” Brinnaria declared. “I know I am + often flippant, but not now, not a bit. I am just as serious as life and + death. I have thought of nothing but suicide since Trebellius conducted me + back to my seat. I can’t get the idea out of my head and that is why I + have come to you.” + </p> + <p> + “Tell me all about it from the beginning,” the Emperor said, comfortingly. + “What put the notion into your head?” + </p> + <p> + “In the beginning,” said Brinnaria, “you know that I didn’t want to be a + Vestal.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I know,” he assured her. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” she went on, “now I am a Vestal and must serve out my thirty + years, I’m really trying to do my best to be all I ought to be. I really + am. I’ve tried hard to be sedate and grave and collected and reticent and + slow-spoken, and all the rest of it. And I think I haven’t done badly most + of the time. But after all, I’m myself and I can’t be changed. Every once + in a while myself boils up in me under the scum of convention I’ve spread + on top of the cauldron, so to speak. I don’t mean to let go and be natural + and spontaneous. I’ve done the awful thing before I know I’m going to do + it. I didn’t mean to pour the pork gravy over old Gubba’s head; but she + looked so funny I just did it without knowing what I was going to do. I + didn’t mean to throw Manlia’s pet monkey out of the window on to Moccilo’s + head. But her shock of red curls looked to be just the place on which to + drop little Dito, and I dropped Dito before I thought. It’s just the same + way about all the other dreadful things I do. I don’t mean to do them, but + I do do them.” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t worry,” the Emperor said, “you’ll outgrow all that.” + </p> + <p> + “I trust I may,” Brinnaria sighed, “but how about the harm I’m doing as I + go along?” + </p> + <p> + “You haven’t done any harm, not any harm that matters,” the Emperor + soothed her. + </p> + <p> + “Are you perfectly sure of that?” she persisted. “If you could make me + perfectly sure of that, I should feel a great deal better. Are you sure?” + </p> + <p> + “I can’t see any real harm in your pranks,” the Emperor said. “I certainly + should not encourage you to continue or repeat such conduct or to revert + to it, but I see no real harm in it.” + </p> + <p> + “You think I have not unfitted myself for my duties?” + </p> + <p> + The Emperor meditated. + </p> + <p> + “To a certainty,” he said, “if your conduct was intentional, if you + thought up these pranks of yours and perpetrated them, with deliberate + consciousness of what you were about to do, I should hold you gravely + unfitted for your position. But you are manifestly sincere in your efforts + to be all you ought to be and are trying genuinely to overcome your + tendencies and to outgrow your coltishness. I am of the opinion that, if + you curb yourself from now on, you have done no harm.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you think,” Brinnaria insisted, “that if you called a meeting of all + the colleges of pontiffs and put the question to them, that they would + make the same answer you have made?” + </p> + <p> + “You amazing child!” Aurelius exclaimed. “Why should you assume the + attitude of advocate against yourself? Why suggest a synod to discuss your + conduct and express an official opinion on it? Is not my opinion enough? + Even if I saw fit to call a synod and all the members of it held the same + views and expressed them never so cogently, do you not realize that, if my + views were contrary to theirs, it would be my view that would prevail; + that it would not only be my privilege and my right but my imperative duty + to override any opposition and to enforce my decision? Are you not + satisfied with the opinions of the man who is at once Emperor and Chief + Pontifex of Rome?” + </p> + <p> + “But,” Brinnaria persisted, “I am not at all sure that you are speaking as + Emperor and Chief Pontifex. To me you seem to speak as a kindly husband + and father very sympathetic towards another man’s little daughter who + comes to you in deep trouble of spirit.” + </p> + <p> + “You amazing child!” the Emperor repeated. “You talk as if you were forty + years old. Tell me precisely what is troubling you, for I must have failed + to fathom it, and be sure I shall reply officially as Emperor and + Pontifex.” + </p> + <p> + “What troubles me,” said Brinnaria, “is the dread that my wild and + tomboyish behavior may be as displeasing to the Goddess as coquettishness + or wantonness. I am in terror for fear my ministrations may be unpleasant + to her, may be sacrilegious, may not only fail to win her blessing upon + Rome but may draw down her curse upon all of us. I never thought of that + until I stood there all alone out in the arena, astraddle of that + beautiful boy whom I just had to save, feeling all of a sudden horribly + naked in my one thin, clinging undergarment, with two hundred thousand + eyes staring at me. It came over me with a rush that I was not only never + going to be fit for a Vestal but that I wasn’t fit for a Vestal and I + hadn’t been fit for a Vestal; that I not only was going to do harm, not + only was doing harm, but had done harm. If the Parthians are devastating + the frontier along the Euphrates and the Marcommani and the Quadi are + storming the outposts along the Danube and the Rhine, perhaps that is + because my presence in the Atrium is an offence in the eyes of Vesta, my + prayers an affront to my Goddess, my care of her altar-fire an insult to + her. I tremble to think of it. And I cannot get it out of my head. I wake + up in the dark and think of it and it keeps me awake, sometimes, longer + than I ever lay awake in the dark in my life. It scares me. I am a Vestal + to bring prosperity and glory to the Empire, to pray prayers that will + surely be answered. Suppose the Goddess is deaf to my prayers because I am + unworthy to pray to her? Suppose that my prayers infuriate her because I + am vile in her sight? Suppose I am causing disaster to the Empire? I keep + thinking all that. Do you wonder that I think of suicide, of hanging + myself, like the two Oculatas?” + </p> + <p> + “My child!” Aurelius cut in. “You have not done anything that justifies + your comparing yourself to the Oculata sisters.” + </p> + <p> + “We’ll come back to that later,” Brinnaria replied. “Just now let us stick + to the point. Do you think my fears justified or not?” + </p> + <p> + “Decidedly not,” the Emperor rejoined, without an instant’s hesitation, + “and I speak not as a soft-hearted parent who sees the soul of his own + daughter looking at him out of the eyes of every little girl whose heart + troubles her, I speak as the guardian of the interests of the Empire, as + the warder of the destinies of Rome. + </p> + <p> + “Your misbehavior has certainly been grave, I admit; and, if done + maliciously, would entail all the harm you imagine. But the Goddess can + see not only your actions but your thoughts. Your scruples do you high + credit. I will not say you are as pleasing to the Goddess as would be a + grave and sedate ministrant, but I do solemnly decide and declare that you + need have no further dread of any past, present or future harm to the + Empire or to Rome from your past behavior, if you honestly try to err no + more. This is my official decision. Be at peace in your heart.” + </p> + <p> + Brinnaria drew a deep breath. + </p> + <p> + “You certainly comfort me,” she said, “but I just know I’ll boil over + again and not once, but many times.” + </p> + <p> + “Vesta will comprehend,” he said, “if your derelictions are less and less + frequent and less and less violent; if you succeed a little better from + month to month and from year to year. She will not be pleased with your + lapses, if you lapse again, but she will be pleased at your struggles with + yourself and with your good intentions. She will smile upon your + ministrations and hearken to your petitions. Be comforted.” + </p> + <p> + “I am,” said Brinnaria, “as far as that trifle goes, but now we come to my + real and chief concern. Suppose I am as detestable in the sight of my + Goddess as the Oculata sisters were, and for a similar reason; suppose I + ought to hang myself as dead as they hanged themselves. Oughtn’t I, then, + to hang myself?” + </p> + <p> + “You incredible creature!” Aurelius cried. “I’ve met women by the + thousand, by the tens of thousands, but never a girl like you. What do you + mean? What can you mean? You cannot mean what you seem to mean. Explain + yourself. Be explicit. Tell me all about what is troubling you. I’ll + understand and put your mind at ease.” + </p> + <p> + “I trust you may,” Brinnaria sighed, “but I dread that you cannot. I mean + just what I seem to mean.” + </p> + <p> + “Impossible!” the Emperor cried, “a child of ten, but a few months out of + her mother’s care and those few months in the care of Causidiena! And I + wouldn’t believe it of you if you were twice your age.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh,” said Brinnaria, “I haven’t acted like Caparronia and the two + Oculatas, and I shouldn’t if I were never so much left to myself. But you + said yourself that Vesta can read my thoughts and I knew that without your + telling me so. Suppose that my thoughts are as abominable in the sight of + my Goddess as was the behavior of those three unfortunates? Oughtn’t I to + hang myself and be done with myself?” + </p> + <p> + “Indubitably,” said the Emperor, “if the facts were as your words imply. + But you are just frightening yourself to death with vapors like a child + afraid of its own shadow. Be explicit, be definite, and I can put you at + peace with yourself at once and permanently.” + </p> + <p> + Brinnaria drew a deep breath. + </p> + <p> + “To begin with,” she said, “you know that, before I was taken for a + Vestal, I was plighted to Caius Segontius Almo.” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly, I knew that,” Aurelius replied. “All Rome knew of his ride + from Falerii and of his arriving just too late.” + </p> + <p> + “You knew I was in love with him?” + </p> + <p> + “I assumed that,” the Emperor told her. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” she said, a pathetic break in her voice, “I can’t make myself stop + loving Almo. I always have loved him, I always shall, I love him now.” + </p> + <p> + “I assumed that too,” the Emperor said. “All Rome knows of his resolve to + remain unmarried, to wait thirty years for you, to marry you the very day + you are free. I assumed that he would not be so constant unless he + believed you equally constant. No harm in that! You have a right to marry + at the end of your service and a right to look forward to it.” + </p> + <p> + “That is what troubles me,” Brinnaria said. “I cannot feel that I have a + right to look forward to it.” + </p> + <p> + “Now listen to me,” said the Emperor. “Few Vestals have left the Atrium at + the end of their thirty years. Not every one that has left has married, + the third Terentia withdrew at the end of her term and did not marry, nor + did the only Licinia who ever completed her service. But Appellasia + married and so did Quetonia and Seppia. Others have married after their + service, though it is thought unlucky. The right to leave the order + implies the right to marry after leaving. The right to leave implies the + right to mean to leave, to plan to leave, to look forward to leaving and + marrying. You have that right, like any other Vestal. Does that satisfy + you?” + </p> + <p> + “It does not,” Brinnaria asserted. “I know a Vestal has a right to leave + and marry and to plan to leave and marry. But, after thirty years of + service, or nearly thirty years of service, to plan to leave and marry and + to look forward to it for a few days or months appear to me very different + from looking forward to it from the first hour of my service, and knowing + not only that I mean to marry, but just the man I mean to marry, and + loving him all the time, and longing for him. I can’t help it; I feel that + way, and I dread that I am not an acceptable ministrant and I tremble for + fear of the consequences to you and to Rome. I think I ought to hang + myself and be done with it. You haven’t comforted me a bit.” + </p> + <p> + The Emperor stood up. + </p> + <p> + “Sit still!” he commanded, sharply. + </p> + <p> + He paced up and down the huge audience hail; paced its full length three + times each way. + </p> + <p> + Then he reseated himself. + </p> + <p> + “Do you sleep soundly?” he queried. + </p> + <p> + “Like a top, mostly,” said Brinnaria. “I go to sleep the instant I put my + head on the pillow. Generally I sleep all night long until my maid wakes + me up in the morning. Many nights, but not every night, nor most nights, I + wake up with a dreadful start, as if I had had a nightmare, and lie there + quaking for fear I am ruining Rome. But even then I generally go to sleep + again pretty quick.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you think of Almo when you wake up in the dark?” he pursued. + </p> + <p> + “Mighty little,” she declared. “In the dark all I can think of is Rome and + my duty. I often reflect how immediately and how greatly being taken for a + Vestal changes a girl and alters, not only her outlook on life and her + ways of thinking, but also her feelings. It has cooled and steadied me + more than I could have believed. When Daddy quarrelled with Segontius and + told me he would not let me marry Caius I used to feel as if I were going + to suffocate, used to feel that way sometimes for hours at a time, used to + suffer horribly, used to wake up in the dark and feel as if, if I could + not get to Almo right then, at once, I should die, as if I should be + choked to death by the thumping of my heart. I used to feel that way at + dinner, when out visiting any time of day, for hours. I never feel that + way now. And after Daddy and Segontius made up their quarrel and it was + arranged that I was to marry Almo, I used to feel as if it would kill me + to wait four years, I used to grit my teeth to think of it, of waiting + four years for him; used to think of it an day long, no matter what I was + doing. And I used to wake up in the dark and roll round in bed and bite + the bed-clothes with rage at the thought of the long waiting ahead of me. + I wanted Almo the way you want a drink, just before noon of a hot day, + when you have been travelling since before sunrise and the carriage creaks + and jolts and the road is all dusty and there is no wind and you feel as + if you would rather die than go any longer without a drink. I used to want + that way to be married to Almo. + </p> + <p> + “I never feel that way now. I want him and I want to be married to him, + but I look forward to it as I look forward to the next race-day at the + Circus or the next fight of gladiators at the Colosseum, as a desirable + and delightful time sure to come but by no means to be hurried, as + something I can very well do without until the time comes. The thought of + Almo is always somewhere back in my mind ready to come forward when I have + nothing else to think of. But I think of him placidly and calmly and never + when on duty nor when at my lessons nor when at meals. And at night, + never.” + </p> + <p> + “My daughter,” said Aurelius, smiling at her, “listen well to me. I speak + as Chief Pontifex and as Emperor of Rome. I command you to forget your + qualms and to banish your fears. Officially as Chief Pontifex I judge you + a ministrant most acceptable to your Goddess, as a most fit and suitable + Vestal. I judge that no girl naturally austere, frigid and self-contained + could be half so pleasing to Vesta as a tempestuous child like you who + curbs her temper and schools her outward behavior all she can in the + effort to be all she ought to be; whose feelings even tame themselves + without any effort of hers in the holy atmosphere of the Atrium. + </p> + <p> + “Manifestly you are telling the truth about your acts, your impulses and + your thoughts, I judge you a pure-minded, clean-hearted Vestal, most + suitable for her duties. Vesta understands and is glad of your good + intentions and pleased with your struggles to master yourself. You are + most acceptable to her. You will bring no curses on Rome, but your prayers + will be heard and you will bring many blessings on the Empire. Be + comforted!” + </p> + <p> + “I am,” said Brinnaria simply, “and I shall stay comforted.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0013" id="link2H_4_0013"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + BOOK II—THE REVOLT OF DESPONDENCY + </h2> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VIII - SCOURGING + </h2> + <p> + AFTER her audience with the Emperor, Brinnaria felt more at peace with + herself, succeeded better in curbing her native wildness, incurred less + and less disapprobation and won increasingly the respect and affection of + her elders. Her outbursts were less frequent and less violent; she learned + to hold her tongue, to appear calm, to stand with dignity, to move with + deliberation. Her admiration for Causidiena and Numisia and of their + statuesque attitudes and queenly movements helped her a great deal by both + conscious and unconscious imitation. It helped her more to find that she + was succeeding better than Meffia. At first Brinnaria had been notably + more prone than Meffia to assume gawky or ungainly postures, and, as she + was the bigger of the two, she was the more conspicuous. + </p> + <p> + Before long she began to improve in her bearing, but Meffia did not. + Brinnaria held herself erect, head up and shoulders back. Meffia slouched + and sagged along, a semi-boneless creature, her clothing hanging on her + baggily and unbecomingly. + </p> + <p> + The difference was particularly noticeable at meals. + </p> + <p> + In the Roman world all well-to-do people lay down to meals luxuriously + extended on broad sofas. Brinnaria had always had trouble about her + meal-time attitudes, and her mild easy-going mother had often had to speak + to her and bid her remember herself. In the Atrium she had found her legs + kept up their old habits of getting into strange postures, her feet seemed + distressingly in evidence, and her knees always in the wrong place. + </p> + <p> + Causidiena, tactful and sympathetic, solved the problem of how to + influence her by getting her to watch Meffia and to contrast her with + Manlia and Gargilia. + </p> + <p> + They were almost as statuesque as their two elders, who reclined at table + in attitudes scarcely less majestic than those of the Fates on the + Parthenon pediment. Meffia sprawled uncouthly and was forever spreading + her knees apart, generally with one up in the air. Her postures were so + disgusting that Brinnaria was hot all over with determination not to be + like Meffia. + </p> + <p> + She succeeded. + </p> + <p> + Great was her exultation when she perceived that it was no longer + Brinnaria and Meffia who gave cause for concern to Causidiena, but Meffia + and Brinnaria, great her triumph when she made sure that Causidiena had + ceased worrying about her, or worried only at long intervals, but was + perpetually solicitous concerning Meffia. + </p> + <p> + Meffia was indeed a cause of solicitude. She was stupid, slow and idle + about her lessons, tearful on the slightest provocation, inert at all + times and generally ailing, though never actually ill. She never looked + clean, no matter how faithfully her maid toiled over her; she could + somehow reduce, in an amazingly short time, the neatest attire to the + semblance of mussed and rumpled rags; she slouched and shambled rather + than walked, she lolled rather than sat. + </p> + <p> + Her hands were feeble and ineffective, her writing remained a childish + scrawl, no matter how much she was made to practice, she dropped things + continually and frequently spilt her food at meal-time. Most of all was + her awkwardness manifest in the temple. + </p> + <p> + The temple was circular, its roof supported by eighteen splendid marble + columns, the intervals between which were walled up to the height of not + much more than five feet, the space from the top of the low wall to the + roof being filled in with magnificent lattices of heavy cast bronze; so + that the temple was a pleasant, breezy place on warm days, but very + draughty in chilly weather and bitterly cold in winter. It contained no + statue, nor any other object of worship, except in the center of its floor + the circular altar on which burned the sacred fire, solemnly extinguished + and ceremonially rekindled on each first of March, the New Year’s day of + the primitive Roman Calendar, but which must never at any other time be + permitted to go out, upon whose continual burning depended the prosperity + of Rome, according to the belief implicitly held by all Romans from the + earliest days until Brinnaria’s time, and for centuries after. The + extinction of the perpetual fire, whether by accident or by neglect, was + looked upon as a presage of frightful disaster to the nation, as an omen + of impending horrors, almost as the probable cause of national + misfortunes. Without qualification or doubt the people of Brinnaria’s + world believed that, as long as Vesta’s holy fire burned steadily and + brightly, Rome was assured the favor and protection of her gods; that, + should it die out, their wrath was certain to be manifested in terrible + afflictions involving the entire population. + </p> + <p> + The care of the fire was the chief duty of Brinnaria and her five + associates, as it had been of their predecessors for more than nine + hundred years. As maple was the sacred wood in the Roman ritual, maple + only was used for the holy fire. The size of the pieces used and their + shape was also a matter of immemorial ordinance. Each piece was about a + cubit long, about the length of the forearm of an average adult, measured + from elbow to finger-tips. Each piece must be wedge-shaped, with the bark + on the rounded side and the other two sides meeting at a sharp edge where + had been the heart of the trunk or branch from which it had been cut. Each + piece must have been clean cleft with a strong sweep of the axe. The + pieces varied from sections of stout trunks to mere slivers from slender + boughs. All were of dry, well-seasoned wood, carefully prepared. + </p> + <p> + The placing of these on the fire was a matter of ritual and might be done + no otherwise than as prescribed. It was quite a delicate art to lay the + necessary piece in just the right place and at just the right angle; it + required more than a little good sense and discretion to know just when a + piece was required, for the fire must not burn violently nor must it + smoulder, it must be steady but not strong. This discretion, this good + sense, Meffia was slow to acquire. The art of laying the wood properly she + acquired very imperfectly. She did it well enough under direction; but, + even with Causidiena watching her, she was likely to drop the piece of + wood on the floor, or, what was worse, to drop it on the fire instead of + laying it on. The scattering of ashes on the floor of the temple was held + unseemly, that live coals should fall from the Altar was considered almost + sacrilegious. Meffia, more than once, perpetrated such appalling blunders. + Very tardily did she learn her duties; only after four years could she be + trusted to take her regular turn in care of the fire and to stand her + watch of half a night each time her turn came between sunset and sunrise. + </p> + <p> + During these four years she had grown into a not unpersonable young woman, + for Roman girls were generally young women at fourteen years of age. She + was never ruddy or robust, always pale, delicate-looking and + fragile-seeming, never actually ill, but usually ailing, peevish, limp and + querulous. Life in the Atrium largely consisted in the effort to keep + Meffia well, to make sure that she was not overtired, to foresee and + forestall opportunities for her to blunder, to repair the consequences of + her mistakes, generally to protect and guide her. + </p> + <p> + In the same four years Brinnaria had developed into a muscular girl, tall, + amply fleshed, robust, rosy, full of healthy vigor, lithe and strong. She + was radiantly handsome, knew it, and was proud of it. Her duties she knew + to the last, least detail, and Causidiena trusted her quite as much as + Manlia or Gargilia. + </p> + <p> + One spring night it was Mafia’s watch until midnight, at which time + Brinnaria was to relieve her. It was the custom that, at the end of her + watch, the Vestal on duty made sure that the fire was burning properly and + then left it and herself waked her relief, it being entirely inconceivable + that, under roof and protected all round by bronze lattices, a properly + burning fire could go out in the brief space of time required to leave the + temple, enter the court-yard, cross it, ascend the stairs and for the + relieving Vestal to reach the temple by the same path reversed. + </p> + <p> + Brinnaria was a sound sleeper. She woke in the pitch dark with the instant + conviction that she had slept long past midnight, with a sudden qualm of + apprehension, of boding, almost of terror. + </p> + <p> + She was a methodical creature for all her wildness, and very neat in her + habits. By touch, almost without groping, she dressed in the dark. + Silently she slipped out of her room, noiselessly she closed the door, + softly she groped her way to the stairs, down the stairs out into the + courtyard to the corner of the colonnade. + </p> + <p> + There, a pace or two beyond the pillars, under the open sky, she peered + up. + </p> + <p> + The gray light of dawn was faintly hinted in the blackish canopy of cloud + above her. + </p> + <p> + Swiftly she flitted the length of the court, whisking past the dimly-seen + columns; swiftly she traversed the three small rooms at its eastern end, + panting she plunged through the dark doorway into the dark temple. + </p> + <p> + There was no flicker of fire-light on the carved and gilded panels of the + lofty ceiling; the ceiling, in fact, was invisible, unguessable in the + gloom. + </p> + <p> + There was no glow upon the altar, not even a glimmer of redness through + the ashes. + </p> + <p> + Brinnaria held her hand over the ashes. Nowhere could she discern more + than the merest hint of warmth. + </p> + <p> + On the back of her hands, as on the back of her neck, she could feel the + chill of the faintly stirring dawn wind that breathed through the bronze + lattices and across the temple interior. + </p> + <p> + She felt among the wood piled ready, found a slender sliver of a cleft + branchlet, and methodically ploughed the ashes across and across. She did + bring to the surface a faint redness, but not even one coal which could + have been blown into sufficient heat to start a flame on her splinter of + dry maple. + </p> + <p> + A sound assailed her ears. + </p> + <p> + Meffia snoring! + </p> + <p> + Guided by the gurgling noise she found Meffia crumpled in a heap on the + mosaic floor against the base of one of the pillars. + </p> + <p> + Brinnaria kicked her once viciously and shook her repeatedly. + </p> + <p> + Slowly, dazedly, Meffia half awoke, whining: + </p> + <p> + “Where am I?” she gasped. + </p> + <p> + “In the temple!” Brinnaria replied. + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” Meffia exclaimed, “what has happened?” + </p> + <p> + “You went to sleep, you little fool,” Brinnaria raged at her, “and the + fire has gone out.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! what shall we do?” wailed Meffia, “what shall we do?” + </p> + <p> + “Do?” snarled Brinnaria. “It’s plain enough what you have to do. Go to + your room, go to bed and go’ to sleep, stay asleep, keep your mouth shut, + say nothing, pretend you woke me at midnight, pretend you had nothing to + do with the fire going out, pretend you know nothing about it, keep your + face straight, keep mum, leave the rest to me!” + </p> + <p> + “But,” wailed Meffia, “if they think you let the fire go out you’ll be + scourged for it.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” snapped Brinnaria, “what’s that to you? Go to bed.” + </p> + <p> + “But,” Meffia insisted, “I let it go out. I ought to take the blame, not + you. I ought to be scourged with you.” + </p> + <p> + “You insufferable little idiot,” Brinnaria hurled at her, “you never could + stand a flogging, you’d die of it most likely. To a certainty you’d be + ill, and have to be sent off to be nursed and kept away for a month or + more to recover. I won’t have Causidiena worried with any such + performances. And as sure as the fire is out, you’d behave like the poor + creature you are. You’d scream and howl and faint and shame us all. + </p> + <p> + “No flogging of you if I can help it! + </p> + <p> + “Now, go to bed!” + </p> + <p> + “But,” protested Meffia, “why need either of us be flogged? I have tinder + and flint and steel in my room. We could light the fire and no one ever + know it.” + </p> + <p> + “You imbecile child! You silly baby! You wicked, horrible, sacrilegious + girl!” Brinnaria stormed. “You irreligious, atheistical, blasphemous + wretch! To save your hide you’d desecrate the temple, pollute the Altar, + anger Vesta, make all our prayers in vain, bring down curses without count + on Rome and all of us. Be silent! Don’t you dare to speak another word! + Off to bed with you!” + </p> + <p> + “But,” Meffia trembled, “you hate me; why do you take my punishment?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t hate you,” hissed Brinnaria. “I despise you! And I’ve told you + why I’m going to take the licking. Off to bed with you!” + </p> + <p> + “But,” Meffia still persisted, “what will you do?” + </p> + <p> + “Do?” whispered Brinnaria. “Do? Why I’ll curl up where you’ve left a warm + spot on the floor and go to sleep and sleep till some one finds me. I can + sleep any time.” + </p> + <p> + “But think of the scourging!” Meffia insisted. + </p> + <p> + “I shan’t,” Brinnaria maintained. “I shan’t think of it a moment. I never + did mind a licking. It’s bad enough while it lasts, but soon over. No + licking will worry me. I’ll sleep like a top. Now to bed with you, or I’ll + break every bone in your worthless body!” Meffia started to speak again; + Brinnaria caught her gullet in one strong, young hand, clutched her neck + with the other, and craftily pressed one thumb behind one of Meffia’s + ears. + </p> + <p> + Meffia squeaked like a snared rabbit. + </p> + <p> + “There!” Brinnaria whispered fiercely. “Now you know how badly I can hurt + you when I try. If you let on that it was you and not I that let the fire + go out what I did to you then won’t amount to anything to what I’ll do to + you. I’ll kill you. Promise you’ll keep mum.” + </p> + <p> + “I promise,” gasped Meffia. + </p> + <p> + “Go to bed!” Brinnaria hissed. + </p> + <p> + Meffia went. + </p> + <p> + Brinnaria, left alone, did all she could to make the ashes on the Altar + look like the remains of a fire that had died out of itself, to efface all + signs of her efforts to find live coals under the ashes. She judged that + she had succeeded pretty well. + </p> + <p> + Then she composed herself on the floor and was asleep in ten breaths. + </p> + <p> + There Manlia found her when the daylight was already strong. + </p> + <p> + When wakened Brinnaria merely remarked: + </p> + <p> + “It can’t be helped. I always did sleep too sound.” That day was a gloomy + day in Rome. The report was noised abroad that the holy fire had gone out + and a chill of horror spread through all classes of the population, from + the richest to the poorest. + </p> + <p> + The Romans were very far from being what they are represented to have been + by unsympathetic modern writers on them. Practically all modern writers + have been unsympathetic with the Romans, for the Romans were Pagans and + all modern writers on them have been more or less Christians, chiefly + interested in Pagans because most Pagans were in the later centuries + converted to Christianity. With that fact in the foreground of their + thoughts and with the utterances of Roman skeptics and dilettantes well in + view, most modern writers assert what they sincerely believe, that the + Romans had only the vaguest and most lukewarm religious faith, and no + vivid devout convictions at all. + </p> + <p> + The facts were entirely the other way. There were agnostics among the + cultured leisure classes, there were unbelievers of various degrees + everywhere in the towns and cities. But the mass of the population, not + only universally, all over the countryside, but collectively in the urban + centers, believed in their gods as implicitly as they believed in heat and + cold, birth and death, fire and water, pleasure and pain. Government, from + the Roman point of view, was a partnership between the Roman people, as + represented by their senate, and the gods. Under the Republic every + election had appeared to the Romans who participated in it to be a rite + for ascertaining what man would be most pleasing to the gods to fill the + position in question. Under the Empire the selection of a new Emperor, + whether a confirmation by the senate of the previous Emperor’s accredited + heir, or an acclamation by the army of the soldiers’ favorite, appeared to + the Romans as the determination of the gods’ preference for a particular + individual as their chief partner. + </p> + <p> + The choice of war or peace, of battle or maneuvering for delay, seemed to + the Romans the taking of the advice of the gods, who manifested their + injunctions by various signs, by the appearance of the liver, heart, lungs + and kidneys of the cattle and sheep sacrificed, by the flight of birds, by + the shape of the flames of altar-fires, all regarded as definite answers + to explicit questions; who also made suggestions or gave warnings by means + of earthquakes, floods, conflagrations, pestilences, eclipses, by the + aurora borealis, by any sort of strange happening. + </p> + <p> + The extinction of the sacred fire in the Temple of Vesta was looked upon + as a categorical warning that the behavior of the Romans or of some part + of them or the conduct of the government was so displeasing to the gods + that the Empire would come to a sudden end unless matters were at once + corrected. All Romans believed that as implicitly as they believed that + food would keep them alive or that steel could kill them. + </p> + <p> + Therefore the days after Meffia let the fire go out were gloomy days in + Rome. The report of a great defeat for their army, with a terrible + slaughter of their best soldiers would not have depressed the crowds more. + </p> + <p> + The people were as dazed, numb and silent as after the first news of a + terrific disaster. Every kind of public amusement or diversion was + postponed, merry-making ceased everywhere, the wildest and most reckless + felt no inclination towards frivolity, even the games of children were + checked and repressed, gravity and solemnity enveloped the entire city and + its vast suburbs. The men talked soberly, as if at a funeral; while for + women of every degree, but especially for the matrons of the upper + classes, the three ensuing days were days of prayer and fasting. + </p> + <p> + For the Pontiffs they were anxious and busy days. + </p> + <p> + Both Emperors were away from Rome, Lucius Verus in Greece, on his way home + from Antioch and the great victories of his three years’ campaign against + the Parthians, Marcus Aurelius in Germany hastening from point to point + along the headwaters of the Rhine and Danube, desperately resisting the + pertinacious attacks of the Marcomanni. The Pontiffs were without their + chief and acted under the leadership of Faltonius Bambilio, Pontifex of + Vesta, the busiest and most anxious of them all. In consultation with the + august College of Pontiffs, hastily assembled at the Regia, a splendid + building occupying the site of Numa’s rustic palace, near the great Forum + and close to the Temple of Vesta, he arranged for the necessary ceremonial + of expiation and atonement. + </p> + <p> + Besides the fasting of the women all over the city, besides their day-long + and night-long prayers, besides the sacrifices which each matron must + personally offer in her own house, besides the sacrifices which must be + offered for the matrons in the Temple of Castor and in the less popular + women’s temples in every quarter of the city, there must he public + sacrifices of cattle, sheep and swine, there must be solemn and gorgeous + processions; every sort of ceremonial traditionally supposed to mitigate + the wrath of the gods, to placate them, to win their favor, must be + carried out with every detail of care, with the utmost magnificence. + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile, and above all, the negligent Vestal must be punished; and at + once the sacred fire must be ritually rekindled. + </p> + <p> + The ritual rekindling worried and exhausted Bambilio not a little. + </p> + <p> + The procedure was traditional and rigidly prescribed in every detail. The + sacred fire might not be rekindled by anything so modern as a flint and + steel, far less by anything so much more modern as a burning glass. + </p> + <p> + The primitive fire drill must be used and the fresh fire produced by the + friction of wood on wood. + </p> + <p> + The ritual prescribed that a plank of apple wood, about two inches thick, + about two feet wide and about three feet long, should be placed on a firm + support, upon which it would rest solidly without any tendency to joggle. + At its middle was bored a small circular depression, about the size of a + man’s thumb-nail and shallow. Into this was thrust the tapered end of a + round rod of maple wood about as thick as a large man’s thumb. The upper + end of the rod fitted freely into a socket in a ball of maple wood of + suitable size to be held in the left hand and pressed down so as to press + the lower end of the rod into the hole in the apple wood plank. Round the + middle of the rod was looped a bow-string kept taut by a strong bow. By + grasping the bow in his right hand and sawing it back and forth, the + operator caused the rod to whirl round, first one way and then the other, + with great velocity. The friction of its lower end soon heated up the hole + in the apple-wood plank, and round that were piled chips of dry + apple-wood, which, if the operator was strong and skilled, soon burst into + flame. + </p> + <p> + Bambilio was fat and clumsy. Before he had succeeded he was dripping with + perspiration, limp with weariness and ready to faint. But succeed he did. + The quart or more of apple-wood chips burst into flame at last; + Causidiena, standing ready with the prescribed copper sieve, caught the + blazing chips as they were tilted off the plank, conveyed them to the + Altar, placed maple splinters on them, and soon had the sacred fire + burning properly. + </p> + <p> + The punishment of the guilty Vestal was even more a matter of concern, of + trepidation. She must be scourged that very night, and, as in respect to + the rekindling of the fire, every detail of what must be done was + prescribed by immemorial tradition, long since committed to writing, among + the statutes of the order. + </p> + <p> + The scourging must be done by the Pontiff himself. + </p> + <p> + The scourge must be one with a maple-wood handle and three thongs of + leather made from the hide of a roan heifer. In each thong were knotted + the tiny, horny half-hoofs of a newborn white lamb, eight to a thong, + twenty-four in all. These bits of horny hoof tore and cut terribly the + bare back of the victim. It was prescribed that the scourge must be laid + on vigorously, not lightly. + </p> + <p> + The Vestal scourged must be entirely nude. As it would have been sacrilege + unspeakable for a man to see the ankle or shoulder of a Vestal, let alone + her entire body, it was enjoined that the scourging take place at + midnight, in a shut room, and that a woolen curtain should hang between + the Pontifex and his victim. + </p> + <p> + Bambilio was terribly wrought up at the prospect of the perplexing and + delicate duty before him. He was fat and short-winded and would suffer + from the effort of laying on the blows. He was as pious as possible and + quaked inwardly with the dread that, in spite of the dark room and the + curtain, he might catch a glimpse of his victim and bring down the wrath + of the gods on himself and on Rome. And, apart from all else, he was + shame-faced and hot and cold at the idea of being in the same room, even + in a darkened room screened by a curtain, with a naked Vestal. He blushed + and shuddered. To be sure, it was prescribed that one other Vestal was to + be in the room, on the same side of the curtain as the victim, to say when + the scourging had continued long enough and the negligent Vestal had been + sufficiently punished. But this comforted Bambilio very little. + </p> + <p> + He wished the ordeal over. + </p> + <p> + At midnight he stood in the dark, close to the curtain. The darkness was + not as dark as he should have liked. Some ghost of a glimmer of starshine + filtered into the room and he could make out the shape of the curtain. He + waited, scourge in hand. + </p> + <p> + Presently Numisia spoke, told him that Brinnaria was prepared for her + beating, took his left hand and guided it in the dark. He felt the + curtain’s edge against his wrist, felt a warm soft elbow, grasped it, and + at once gained a notion of the direction in which he was to lay on his + blows. + </p> + <p> + He struck round the other side of the curtain and felt that the scourge + met its mark, but slantingly and draggingly. He tried again and seemed to + do better. + </p> + <p> + For the third blow he made the scourge whistle through the air. + </p> + <p> + “Hit harder, you old fool,” spoke Brinnaria, “you’re barely tapping me!” + That made him angry and Brinnaria experienced as severe a scourging as any + fat old gentleman could have compassed. + </p> + <p> + She did not shriek, sob or whimper: not a sound escaped her. She suffered, + suffered acutely, particularly when one of the lamb hoofs struck a second + time on a bleeding gash in her back or on a swollen weal. But her physical + pain was drowned in a rising tide of anger and wrath. She felt the long + repressed, half-forgotten tomboy, hoyden Brinnaria surging up in her and + gaining mastery. She fairly boiled with rage, she blazed and flamed + inwardly with a conflagration of resentment. It was all she could do not + to tear down the curtain, spring on Bambilio, wrench his scourge from his + hand and lay it on him. She kept still and silent, but she felt her inward + tornado of emotion gaining strength. + </p> + <p> + When Numisia spoke Bambilio let go Brinnaria’s arm and stepped back a + pace. “My daughter,” he said, “you have been punished enough. Your + punishment is accomplished. This is sufficient.” + </p> + <p> + Then Brinnaria spoke, in a voice tense, not with pain, but with fury: + </p> + <p> + “You won’t hit me again?” + </p> + <p> + “No, my daughter,” said Bambilio, “no more.” + </p> + <p> + “You have quite done beating me?” she demanded. + </p> + <p> + “Quite done,” he replied. + </p> + <p> + Then, unexpectedly to herself, Brinnaria’s wrath boiled over. + </p> + <p> + “Then,” she fairly yelled at him, “I’m going to begin beating you. Shut + your eyes. I’m going to pull down the curtain!” + </p> + <p> + Numisia made a horrified grab at Brinnaria and missed her. Brinnaria gave + her a push; Numisia slipped, fell her length on the floor, struck her head + and either fainted or was stunned. + </p> + <p> + Bambilio, his eyes tight shut, the instant after Numisia’s head cracked + the floor, heard snap the string supporting the curtain. + </p> + <p> + He shut his eyes tighter. + </p> + <p> + He felt the scourge wrenched from his limp fingers, felt the back of his + neck grasped by a muscular young hand, felt the impact of the twenty-four + sheep-hoofs on his back. + </p> + <p> + Through his clothing they stung and smarted. + </p> + <p> + There came another blow and another. Bambilio tried to get away, but he + dreaded unseemly contact with a naked Vestal and did not succeed in his + efforts. + </p> + <p> + The blows fell thick and fast. He was an old man exhausted by a long day + of excitement and by his exertions while scourging Brinnaria. + </p> + <p> + His knees knocked together, he gasped, he snorted: the pain of the blows + made him feel faint; he collapsed on the floor. + </p> + <p> + Then Brinnaria did beat him, till the blood ran from his back almost as + from hers, beat him till the old man fainted dead away. + </p> + <p> + When her arm was tired she gave him a kick, threw the scourge on him and + groped for Numisia. + </p> + <p> + Numisia had sat up. + </p> + <p> + “My child,” she said, “why did you do it?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know,” snarled Brinnaria. “I was furious. I did it before I + thought. Are you hurt?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Numisia. “Don’t tell anyone you pushed me. I’ll never tell. I + don’t blame you, dear.” She fainted again. + </p> + <p> + Causidiena, waiting under the colonnade of the courtyard, was appalled to + descry in the gloom a totally naked Brinnaria, a mass of clothing hanging + over her arm. + </p> + <p> + “My child,” she protested, “why did you not put on your clothes?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t care who sees me!” Brinnaria retorted. “I’m boiling hot; I’m all + over sweat and blood and my back’s cut to ribbons.” + </p> + <p> + “What are you going to do?” Causidiena queried. + </p> + <p> + “I’m going to bed,” Brinnaria replied. “Please send Utta to me and tell + her to bring the turpentine jug and the salt box.” + </p> + <p> + “My dear,” Causidiena objected, “you’ll never endure the pain!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I shall,” Brinnaria maintained. “I’ll set my teeth and stand the + smart. I don’t mean to have a festered back. I’ll have Utta rub me with + salt and turpentine from neck to hips; I’ll be asleep before she’s done + rubbing.” + </p> + <p> + “I’ll come and see she does it properly,” Causidiena said. + </p> + <p> + “Better not,” said Brinnaria. “Numisia and Bambilio need you worse than I + do.” + </p> + <p> + “Why?” queried Causidiena. + </p> + <p> + “After Bambilio was done beating me,” Brinnaria explained calmly, “I beat + him. Numisia tried to stop me and somehow fell on the floor and was + stunned. She came to after I was done with Bambilio, but she fainted + again. I beat him till he is just a lump of raw meat, eleven-twelfths + dead, wallowing in his blood like a sausage in a plate of gravy.” + </p> + <p> + “My child!” Causidiena cried, “this is sacrilege!” + </p> + <p> + “Not a bit of it!” Brinnaria maintained, a tall, white shape in the + star-shine, waving her armful of clothing. + </p> + <p> + “I have pored over the statutes of the order. It was incumbent on me to + keep still and silent all through my licking. But I defy you or any other + Vestal or any Pontiff or Flamen or either of the Emperors to show me a + word on the statutes of the order or in any other sacred writing that + forbids a Vestal, after her thrashing, to beat the Pontifex to red pulp. I + have. You’d better go help him; he might die. And poor Numisia needs + reviving. I’m all right; send me Utta and the salt and turpentine, and + I’ll be fit for duty in a day or two.” + </p> + <p> + “You terrible child!” said Causidiena. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0009" id="link2HCH0009"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IX - ALARMS + </h2> + <p> + THE next year was the year of the great pestilence. Pestilence, indeed, + had ravaged Italy for five consecutive summers previous to that year. But + the great pestilence, for two centuries afterwards spoken of merely as + “the pestilence,” fell in the nine hundred and nineteenth year after the + founding of Rome, the year 166 of our era, when Marcus Aurelius and Lucius + Verus had been co-Emperors for a little more than five years and Brinnaria + had been almost five years a Vestal. It devastated the entire Empire from + Nisibis in upper Mesopotamia to Segontium, opposite the isle of Anglesea. + Every farm, hamlet and village suffered; in not one town did it leave more + than half the inhabitants alive; few cities escaped with so much as a + third of the population surviving. Famine accompanied the pestilence in + all the western portions of the Roman world, and from famine perished many + whom the plague had spared. + </p> + <p> + This disaster was, in fact, the real deathblow to Rome’s greatness and + from it dates the decline of the Roman power. It broke the tradition of + civilization and culture which had grown from the small beginnings of the + primitive Greeks and Etruscans more than two thousand years before. During + all those two thousand years there had been a more or less steady and a + scarcely interrupted development of the agriculture, manufactures, arts, + skill, knowledge and power of the mass of humanity about the Mediterranean + Sea; men who fought with shields and spears and swords, also with arrows + and slings, believed in approximately the same sort of gods; wore clothing + rather wrapped round them than upholstered on their bodies as with us; + reclined on sofas at meals; lived mostly out of doors all the year round; + built their houses about courtyards, and made rows of columns the chief + feature of their architecture, and sheltering themselves in colonnades, + sunny or shady according to the time of the year, the chief feature of + their personal comfort. Up to the year of the great pestilence that + civilization had prospered, had produced a long series of generals, + inventors, architects, sculptors, painters, musicians, poets, authors, and + orators. Everywhere men had shown self-confidence, capacity, originality, + power and competence and had achieved success for two thousand years. + </p> + <p> + The great pestilence of 166 so depleted the population that Rome never + again pushed forward the boundaries of her Empire. Some lucky armies won + occasional victories, but Rome never again put on the field an + overwhelming army for foreign conquest, never again could fully man, even + defensively, the long line of her frontiers. + </p> + <p> + All classes of the people suffered, but most of all the rich, the + well-to-do, the educated and the cultured classes of the towns and cities. + And the main point of difference between the great pestilence and the + others which had preceded it was the universality of its incidence. For + two thousand years pestilence had occurred at intervals, but previously + not everywhere at once. + </p> + <p> + If one country suffered others did not; if half the Mediterranean world, + even, was devastated, the other half escaped. From the immune regions + competence and capacity had flowed into the ruined areas and civilization + had gone on. But the great pestilence left no district unharmed. In six + months it killed off all the brains and skill, all the culture and + ingenuity in the Empire. There were so few capable men left in any line of + activity that the next generation grew up practically untaught. The + tradition of two thousand years was broken. In all the Mediterranean + world, until centuries later, descendants of the savage invaders developed + their new civilization on the ruins of the old; no man ever again made a + great speech, wrote a great book or play or poem, painted a good picture, + carved a good statue, or contrived a good campaign or battle. The brains + of the Roman world died that year, the originality of the whole nation was + killed at once, the tradition broke off. + </p> + <p> + Of course, the survivors did not realize the finality of the disaster, but + they did realize its magnitude. In Italy, fed almost wholly by imported + food, the famine was most severe. In Italy the pestilence was most + virulent. Men disputed as to whether the great army of Lucius Verus, + returned home from its splendid victories in Parthia, had brought with it + a form of pestilence worse than that of the five previous years, or + whether the returned soldiers had merely been a specially easy prey to the + pestilence already abroad in Rome. Whichever was true, the veterans died + like flies. So did the residents of Rome. Whole blocks of tenements were + emptied of their last occupier and stood wholly vacant; many palaces of + the wealthy were left without so much as a guardian, the last inmate dead; + the splendid furnishings, even the silver plate, untouched in every room; + for the plague had so ravaged Rome that there were not even robbers and + thieves left to steal To the survivors, since genuine piety as they knew + it was all but universal among the Romans, it was some small comfort, a + faint ray of hope, a sign that the gods were not inexorably wrathful, + that, after Rabulla’s death, there was no case of pestilence in the + Atrium, not even among the servitors, that no Vestal so much as sickened. + Through it all the six remained hale and sound. + </p> + <p> + But when the plague abated, only Manlia had any living relations left her. + The other five had lost every kinsman and kinswoman, to the ninth and + tenth degree. + </p> + <p> + Brinnaria’s parents, brothers, sisters, uncles, aunts and cousins were all + among the victims. This left her grave and sobered with grief, with no + trace of her girlish wildness apparent. + </p> + <p> + It also left her enormously rich, one of the wealthiest women in Rome. + </p> + <p> + Not a tenth so wealthy, but still very rich, it left Almo, Vocco and + Flexinna, all of whom survived. + </p> + <p> + As the plague had been rife, worse each year, for some seasons before the + year of the great pestilence, so, ebbing yearly, it continued for some + years after its acme. As soon as the worst was manifestly over the life of + Rome began to revive to some degree, the city dwellers plucked up heart, + the refugees began to return to their town houses, hunger and terror were + forgotten, industry and commerce rallied, bustle and activity increased + from day to day, and, slowly indeed, but steadily, Rome returned to its + normal activity and appearance. The survivors reconstructed their life on + the old lines, the streets and squares were again thronged, the public + baths, those vast casinos of ancient club-life, were daily crowded with + idlers. + </p> + <p> + The repopulation of the city brought into it many rich families from towns + all over the Roman world. + </p> + <p> + Their influx sent up the price of large residences and caused much + activity in the renting and selling of properties suitable for the homes + of people of ample means. + </p> + <p> + Brinnaria, without a male relation of even the remotest degree, came to + lean more and more on Vocco, the husband of her chum Flexinna. He was a + young man of not unpleasing appearance and of courtly manners, but very + haughty, reserved and silent by nature; and exceedingly spare, lean and + wiry, with black hair and brows, a complexion as if tanned and + weatherbeaten and an habitual frown. He was fond of Brinnaria and unbent + to her more than to most of his acquaintances. She treated him as a sort + of honorary cousin and turned over to him many details of the care of her + large and scattered property. He took upon himself in her interest the + sale or management of her distant estates, found for them capable + overseers or purchasers at advantageous prices, bought slaves where they + were needed, arranged for the marketing of the more important products and + accounted to her for the proceeds. + </p> + <p> + About her town properties he had more trouble and some exasperation, for + he found the apparently practical and unsentimental Brinnaria oddly + unwilling to disturb the contents of the palaces in which her kinsmen had + lived and died. She was naturally a good business woman and all her + instincts urged her to increase her capital and her income by every means + within her power and at every opportunity. Yet, when Vocco came to her + with offers of high prices for the various buildings which she had + inherited he could induce her to arrange for the sale only of the smaller + and less valuable houses, or of those tenements which had been owned + merely to rent, but had never been inhabited by any members of the + Brinnarian clan. At the suggestion of preparing for sale any of the + palaces of her near kinsfolk she balked; from the barest hint towards + moving the furniture in her father’s home she recoiled in horror. + </p> + <p> + Vocco found himself faced by invincible femininity, with the possession of + which he would not have credited Brinnaria. At first he was irritated. As + he missed sale after sale he became more and more aggravated. But he kept + his temper, held his tongue and waited for Brinnaria’s mood to alter. Her + sentimentality gradually waned as the prices offered steadily mounted. + After long hesitation she gave orders to sell at auction the furniture + from the house of a distant cousin, and to rent the house. That broke the + spell. One by one the late abodes of the Brinnarii were cleared and sold; + sold furniture and all, cleared and rented, or rented furnished. + </p> + <p> + The former dwellings of her aunts and uncles she was reluctant to disturb. + She felt a sort of sacredness about these splendid houses where she had + been merry as a child. When at last she made up her mind to part with one + she would not give the order to sell it until she had gone over it herself + and selected some pieces of furniture which she specially valued. Vocco + tried to dissuade her, but she would not listen to him. + </p> + <p> + Her visit to the vast, empty palace had a most depressing effect on her. + All her grief at her countless bereavements rushed back over her in a + flood and overwhelmed her. She would not allow a stick of furniture to be + moved and withdrew her consent to the sale. + </p> + <p> + Vocco was patient and silent. + </p> + <p> + After a time this mood, too, wore off. + </p> + <p> + She had that particular dwelling emptied and sold and, once that first + step taken, under the pressure of hugely profitable offers, sold all the + other properties. + </p> + <p> + In each case she insisted on inspecting the houses room by room before + anything was moved. After the first she had no hysterical qualms, did not + show any outward emotion, selected what she meant to keep for herself, + ordered the sale of the rest, remained calm through it all. + </p> + <p> + Finally Vocco came to her with a most tempting offer for her childhood + home. Brinnaria took a night to think it over. + </p> + <p> + She had not entered the place since her father’s funeral. He had been the + last of the family to die, three months after his wife, and some days + after his last surviving son. During the lengthy interval the palace had + stood shut fast, cared for only by a few slaves, and those not lifelong + family servants, but recent purchases; for the pestilence had carried off + with their masters nearly all the home-bred house slaves. + </p> + <p> + At the thought of going through the deserted halls and silent rooms + Brinnaria winced. But she nerved herself up to it. She named a day on + which she meant to face the ordeal, asked Vocco to order the palace swept + and dusted, and announced to Guntello, almost the sole survivor of her + father’s personal servitors, that he was to accompany her. + </p> + <p> + When the day came she set out, not in her carriage, but in her litter with + eight Cilician bearers, her lictor running ahead and Guntello and Utta + walking behind. + </p> + <p> + She began her survey accompanied by Guntello and Utta. But when she came + to the nursery and schoolroom she sent the two away, told them to wait for + her in the peristyle, shut herself in and had a long, hard cry; precisely + as if she had been, as of old, a little girl hurt or angry or vexed. After + she had wept till no more tears flowed she felt relieved and comforted. + </p> + <p> + She called Utta, had her bring water, bathed her face and sent the maid + away again. + </p> + <p> + Then she resolutely examined room after room. The second floor took a long + while, for there were many doors to open and close for the last time. + </p> + <p> + There was a third floor, a feature possessed by few dwellings in Rome in + ancient times. The Imperial Palace, which later towered to even seven + stories, was unique in Brinnaria’s time, in the possession of five + superposed floors. The great palace of Sallust, near the Salarian Gate, + had but three. + </p> + <p> + To the third floor she mounted. Before she had investigated half the rooms + she found a door fast. What was more, as she tried it, she thought she + heard a sound, as of human movement, inside that room. + </p> + <p> + Brinnaria was no weakling. Methodically she tried that door with her full, + young strength, tried it all along its edge opposite its hinges, tried it + at the middle, at the top, at the bottom. She made sure the door was not + stuck or jammed; she was convinced that it was bolted within the room. + </p> + <p> + She leaned over the railing of the gallery and called Guntello. + </p> + <p> + The odd note in her voice brought that faithful giant up the stairs, two + steps at a time; the beams of the house, even the marble steps of the + stair, seemed to quiver under his tread. + </p> + <p> + She had him try the door. He agreed that it was bolted. + </p> + <p> + “Can you break it in?” she queried. + </p> + <p> + Guntello laughed. “Without half trying, little Mistress,” he replied. + </p> + <p> + Brinnaria’s voice came hard and sharp. + </p> + <p> + “You in that room!” she called, “unbolt that door and come out, or it will + be the worse for you. I’ll count ten and then order the door burst open.” + She began to count. + </p> + <p> + She heard the bolt shot back. + </p> + <p> + She nodded to Guntello. + </p> + <p> + He gave the door a push. + </p> + <p> + Before them stood Calvaster, his attitude and countenance expressing + cringing cowardice, cloaked by ill-assumed effrontery. He did not speak, + trying to appear unconcerned. + </p> + <p> + “What are you doing in my house?” Brinnaria demanded. + </p> + <p> + “I do not wonder that you are astonished to see me here and angry as + well,” Calvaster replied, “but the explanation is simple. I learned that + you were proposing to sell the property. I had a curiosity to see it as it + is. I found means to slip in and go over the building. I counted on + leaving before you arrived. I miscalculated, that is all. Awkward for both + of us, but unintentional on my part.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t believe half of that rigmarole,” snapped Brinnaria. + </p> + <p> + “It is all true, nevertheless,” Calvaster asserted with an air of injured + innocence. + </p> + <p> + “One thing is plain, anyhow,” Brinnaria declared. “You bribed one of my + slaves. Which one did you bribe?” + </p> + <p> + Calvaster kept his lips pressed tight together. + </p> + <p> + “March him downstairs, Guntello,” Brinnaria commanded. + </p> + <p> + Calvaster winced and made as if to dodge. Big as he was Guntello was + wonderfully quick. In a flash he had the intruder by the neck. Utterly + helpless Calvaster was marched down the stairs. + </p> + <p> + In the courtyard Brinnaria had brought before her the half dozen slaves + who had charge of the empty house. They stood in a row fidgeting and + glancing at each other. + </p> + <p> + “Now,” she demanded of Calvaster, “point out which one you bribed.” + Calvaster remained motionless and mute. + </p> + <p> + “Hurt him, Guntello,” said Brinnaria. + </p> + <p> + Guntello applied a few simple twists and squeezes, such as schoolboys of + all climes employ on their victims. + </p> + <p> + Calvaster yielded at once and indicated one of the suspects. + </p> + <p> + “Throw him out, Guntello,” said Brinnaria. + </p> + <p> + When Guntello returned he cheerfully inquired, with the easy assurance of + an indulged favorite. + </p> + <p> + “Shall I kill Tranio, Mistress?” + </p> + <p> + “No!” said Brinnaria viciously. “I wouldn’t have a toad killed on the word + of that contemptible scoundrel. Give Tranio a moderate beating and hand + him over to Olynthides to be sold at auction without a character.” Her + survey of her former home and her selection of the ornaments, pictures, + statues, articles of furniture and other objects which she desired + reserved for herself she completed with an air less of melancholy than of + puzzled thought. + </p> + <p> + She was off duty for all of that day and night and was to dine with + Flexinna and Vocco. In the course of the pestilence they had inherited a + magnificent abode on the Esquiline. In particular it had a private bath + with a large swimming-pool. The Vestals were the only ladies in Rome who + might not enjoy the magnificent public baths, to which all Roman society + flocked every afternoon, somewhat as we moderns throng a beach at a + fashionable seaside resort. Brinnaria, who loved swimming, felt the + deprivation keenly. The Atrium had luxurious baths, but no swimming-pool. + Whenever Brinnaria dined with Flexinna she particularly enjoyed the swim + the two always took together before dinner. On that afternoon, while they + were revelling in the water, Brinnaria told Flexinna of her adventure. + </p> + <p> + “I can’t conjecture,” she said, “what motive brought him there. I have + been racking my brains about it ever since it happened and it is an enigma + to me.” + </p> + <p> + “No riddle to me,” Flexinna declared. “It’s as c-c-clear as d-d-daylight.” + </p> + <p> + “If you are so sure,” said Brinnaria, “explain. I have no guess even.” + </p> + <p> + “Why,” expounded Flexinna, “he was there to c-c-collect evidence against + you. He hates you because you wouldn’t marry him and he is t-t-tenaciously + resolved to be revenged. He is on the lookout for anything that might + d-d-discredit you. He hoped to spy on an interview b-b-between you and + Almo, for he surmised that you would arrange to have Almo meet you in the + empty house!” + </p> + <p> + “The nasty beast!” cried Brinnaria, shocked. “How dare he?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, b-b-be sensible,” Flexinna admonished her. “You know the k-k-kind he + is. He’s b-b-bound to impute to everybody what he would d-d-do in their + p-p-place. Any man under the same circumstances would jump at the same + suspicions.” + </p> + <p> + “But why?” queried Brinnaria, bewildered and angry. + </p> + <p> + “Think a minute,” said Flexinna. “To suspect all women is a + c-c-convention, almost an axiom, with most men. All men like C-C-Calvaster + assume that every married woman is interested in some man b-b-besides her + husband, or in almost any man, and if married women are under suspicion, + on the assumption that one husband is not enough, of c-c-course you + Vestals, who haven’t even a husband, are doubly under suspicion.” + </p> + <p> + “Bah!” snarled Brinnaria, “you make me cross!” + </p> + <p> + “Facts are facts,” Flexinna summed up. + </p> + <p> + Brinnaria did not retort. She had climbed out of the tank and was seated + on the edge, the drops streaming off her in rivulets, watching the ripples + her toes’ made in the water. + </p> + <p> + “Facts are facts,” she echoed, “and conjectures are merely conjectures; + what is more, conjectures ought to have some basis in fact. You assert, as + if you know it to be true, that Calvaster expected Almo to meet me to-day. + But Almo is at Falerii.” + </p> + <p> + “No, he’s not,” Flexinna retorted; “he’s b-b-been in t-t-town t-t-ten + d-d-days and has had the old house on the C-C-Carinae reopened. He’s + settling d-d-down to live in Rome.” + </p> + <p> + Brinnaria flushed. + </p> + <p> + “I think,” she said, scrambling to her feet, “that he might have had + enough consideration for me to stay in the country.” + </p> + <p> + “So d-d-do I,” said Flexinna. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0010" id="link2HCH0010"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER X - CONFERENCE + </h2> + <p> + SOME months later, during one of the brief and infrequent breathing spells + in his ten years’ fight to beat off the raids of the Marcomanni and other + Germanic tribes, Aurelius returned from the Rhine frontier to Rome. As + soon as she was reasonably sure that the Emperor was rested from the + fatigues of his journey and had disposed of the worst of his accumulated + routine duties, Brinnaria sought a second audience with the chief of the + nation. + </p> + <p> + She was then a tall, grave girl of nineteen, looking and behaving like a + woman of twenty-five. Very handsome she was, full-fleshed without a trace + of plumpness, fun breasted without a hint of overabundance. Her brown + hair, now grown long again after its ceremonial shearing at her entrance + into the order of Vestals, was so dark that it was almost black. Arranged + in the six braids traditional for Vestals and wound round her head like a + coronet it became her notably. Her complexion was creamy, with a splendid + brilliant color that came and went in her cheeks. Her expression of face + was an indescribable blend of kindliness and haughtiness towards others, + of austerity and cheerfulness inwardly, of intellectuality and + comprehension towards life at large. She had acquired the statuesqueness + of the conventional Vestal attitudes and movements, but she sat and stood + so that all beholders felt a vivid impression of her vitality, of reserve + strength, incomparably beyond anything possessed by her five colleagues. + </p> + <p> + Her stately pacing as she walked always appeared the conscious restraint + of what, of itself, would have been a swinging stride. She wore her + clothes with an unanalyzable difference, with a sort of effrontery, as + Calvaster put it in talking of her to his cronies. + </p> + <p> + On her way to the palace, erect in her white robe amid the gorgeous + crimson hangings of her gilded state coach, she meditated on the great + dissimilarity between the feelings with which she had gone to her first + audience with the Emperor and those with which she now approached his + abode. Then she had been palpitating with conscientious scruples and + childish dreads, now she was sure of herself and of her errand; then she + had thought chiefly of her mother and of the traditions of her family and + clan, now not only her mother was dead, but the whole family of the + Epulones had perished except herself and the Brinnarian clan was + represented by but three families, her relationship to which was fainter + than any assignable degree of cousinship; then she had been full of + elation at her lofty position in the world, now she was perfectly at home + in her environment and felt no emotion at the thought of it. + </p> + <p> + At the palace she found herself in the same vast room, alone with a + somewhat older and graver Emperor, now sole ruler of their world since the + death of his colleague, Lucius Verus. He greeted her kindly, with an air + of effort to conceal his weariness, and when both were seated asked her + errand. + </p> + <p> + “In the first place,” she said, “I want you to tell me whether you are + satisfied with the reports you have had of me.” + </p> + <p> + Aurelius half smiled. + </p> + <p> + “I am well pleased in respect to all your actions but one,” he said. “You + have certainly done better than I expected or hoped. You have curbed your + wild nature so well that, of late years, you have behaved altogether as a + Vestal should. Even earlier your conduct was creditable, since from the + very day of your promise to me, your outbursts were less and less frequent + and also less and less violent. Once only have you acted so that I felt + displeased when I heard what you had done and feel somewhat displeased + even yet.” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose,” Brinnaria ruminated, “you mean my larruping Bambilio.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” Aurelius admitted. “That was in a sense unforgivable. Had I been in + Rome at the time I must have animadverted upon it with the greatest + severity.” + </p> + <p> + “If you had been in Rome at the time,” spoke Brinnaria boldly, “I should + not have been flogged by any mere deputy Pontifex of Vesta. It would have + been incumbent upon you, as Pontifex Maximus, yourself to give me my + ceremonial scourging. To you I should have been, of course, as submissive + after my beating as while it was going on. No harm would have been done.” + </p> + <p> + The Emperor smiled more than a half smile. + </p> + <p> + “I am not sure,” he said, “that any harm was done, anyhow.” + </p> + <p> + “What!” cried Brinnaria. “You excuse me? You defend me?” + </p> + <p> + “Softly! Softly!” the Emperor caveatted, raising his hand. “I do not + acquit you nor exonerate you. But I do make allowances. And we must + distinguish. We must not confuse the causes of my disapprobation of what + you did with my reasons for believing that no harm resulted. Nor, for that + matter, must we confound with either of them those qualities in yourself + and those circumstances of the case which make me feel, illogically + perhaps, but very possibly, more inclined to thank you than to censure + you.” + </p> + <p> + “Castor be good to me!” cried Brinnaria. “Am I dreaming?” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t interrupt, you disrespectful minx,” the Emperor laughed; “this is a + lecture. Hear it out. + </p> + <p> + “In the first place you were technically right in saying that there is not + one word in any sacred writing or in the pronouncements of the Pontiffs or + the statutes of the Vestals to forbid a flogged Vestal from beating her + scourger. Just as Solon in the code of laws which he drew up for the + Athenians prescribed no penalty for the slayer of his father or mother, + because, as he explained when the omission was pointed out to him, he had + thought that no child would ever kill its parents; so no framer of rubrics + ever foresaw the necessity of forbidding what no one conceived of as + possible. All persons were assumed to be too much in awe of Pontiffs, for + anyone to dare to raise a hand against any Pontiff, least of all a Vestal + against her spiritual father. The world had to wait for a Brinnaria to + demonstrate that the unimaginable could come to pass. + </p> + <p> + “Yet the very fact that it was nowhere written down that you must not do + it makes your act all the worse. It was monstrous. + </p> + <p> + “But fortunately it was not sacrilegious. The person of the Pontifex of + Vesta is not sacrosanct and a blow inflicted on him is not to be rated as + impious. Your act called for no expiation, personal or official. It did + not desecrate him, or you, nor the place where it occurred. + </p> + <p> + “Besides, I cannot resist admitting to you,”—and the Emperor smiled + an unmistakable smile—“that this particular Pontiff of Vesta is + farther from being sacrosanct than any of his predecessors. As far as I + can learn, Faltonius is a worthy man, pious and scrupulous. But he is + absurdly unfitted for his office in appearance and in manner. The + self-importance he assumes, the pomposity with which he performs his + duties, would be too great even for an Emperor. He irritates all of us. + All of us have wished, secretly or openly, many, many times, that Bambilio + would be soundly thrashed. He has been. You did it. The story was too good + to keep. It has not, of course, been allowed to leak out, and become + common property. But it is known to all the Flamens, Augurs and Pontiffs. + </p> + <p> + “I need not describe to you the feelings of my colleagues, nor my own. To + hint them is perhaps too much; to particularize them would be unseemly. I + may say, however, that just as street-boys acclaim you by shouting: + </p> + <p> + “‘That’s the girl that saved the dog;’ just as all over the Empire you are + talked of as the lady who rescued the retiarius; so at any festival or + ceremonial in which the Vestals take part, many a dignitary is likely to + nudge his neighbor, indicate you and whisper: + </p> + <p> + “‘That’s the priestess who walloped Bambilio!’ You are not infamous, you + are famous. + </p> + <p> + “As for myself I am the more inclined to feel indulgent towards you + because I understand how you felt. You were boiling with rage at being + struck by any one, as any noble girl would be. Yet you would have + controlled your fury but for the fact that you knew that you yourself had + done nothing to deserve chastisement, that you were suffering for + another’s fault.” + </p> + <p> + “What!” cried Brinnaria. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes,” Aurelius continued, easily. “Causidiena and I are quite agreed + on that point. Neither she nor I have questioned Meffia, and we do not + mean to; partly because we are sure enough, without any admission from + her; partly because the matter is best left as it is, without any further + notice. But, with the exception of Meffia, it is quite certain that, from + the Vestals themselves down to the last slave-girl, every resident of the + Atrium believes that not you but Meffia let the fire go out, and that you + took the blame due her. And we can all conjecture your motives, as we all + applaud them. + </p> + <p> + “Meffia might never have survived a scourging, might have been ailing for + months. Rome wants no sick Vestals nor dead Vestals. Causidiena is + grateful to you, all the Atrium is grateful, I am grateful.” + </p> + <p> + “But,” said Brinnaria, wide-eyed, “I had supposed that, if Meffia was + suspected, there would be an inquisition and testimony under oath and that + it would be obligatory that the Vestal actually at fault must be + scourged.” + </p> + <p> + “For once,” the Emperor smiled, “you have failed to read accurately the + statutes of the order. It is positively refreshing. I was beginning to + feel that you were altogether too accurate. In fact the scourging of a + delinquent Vestal is a mere disciplinary regulation, designed to assure + the maintenance of the fire. It is not in the nature of a mandatory + atonement. It has nothing in common with an act of expiation. It has + nothing to do with placating or propitiating the Goddess. It has no + likeness whatever to the punishment of a guilty Vestal.” + </p> + <p> + “That reminds me,” said Brinnaria, “of what I came for. I’m as grateful as + possible for what you have said to me, surprised that Causidiena and you + so easily saw through my deception, delighted that you take it as you + have, more than delighted to find you so kindly disposed towards me. I + need all the kindness you can feel towards me. I want to come to the + point, to the reason why I am here. I want you to answer me this + question: Suppose I were accused of the worst possible misconduct, + formally accused before you, what then?” + </p> + <p> + “Then,” said Aurelius, “you would have a fair trial.” + </p> + <p> + “I believe I should,” said Brinnaria. “You would be perfectly fair and + entirely just. And a fair trial would be a novelty. Almost never has an + accused Vestal had a fair trial.” + </p> + <p> + “Not even if acquitted?” the Emperor suggested slyly. + </p> + <p> + “No,” Brinnaria retorted vigorously. “Even most of those absolved were not + tried fairly. Postumia was, if the records from so long ago are to be + trusted. The first trial of the third Licinia was perfectly fair, the + minutes are very full and there is no shade of bias in the discussion of + her many interviews with Crassus, while the court was plainly genuinely + amused at his greed for desirable real-estate and at his artifices to + induce her to sell cheap. Fabia, in the same year, was justly treated. But + most of the other acquittals were quite as bad as most of the convictions + to my mind. I can discover almost no trial where both sides had a full + hearing, where the judges tried to get at the facts and kept their + attention on the evidence, where the finding as the expression of the + opinions rather than of the partiality of the Pontiffs. Almost every + verdict on record, it seems to me, was dictated by favoritism or influence + or prejudice or wrath.” + </p> + <p> + “You seem to think you know a great deal about the subject of trials of + Vestals,” Aurelius remarked. + </p> + <p> + “I feel justified in thinking so,” Brinnaria maintained. “Where the + minutes of the court have perished, as, of course, in the case of all the + trials before the capture and burning of the city by the Gauls, I have + read what records remain. Where the court records are extant I have pored + over every word of the minutes of the proceedings and of every document + attached.” + </p> + <p> + “That is more than ever I found time to do,” Aurelius meditated. “Your + conclusions ought to be of interest. What are they?” + </p> + <p> + Brinnaria drew a deep breath and went on. “I am convinced,” she said, + “that sometimes the accused received what she deserved, but generally by + accident. The judges were swayed by politics or expediency or clan-feeling + or popular clamor or self-interest, not by reason. + </p> + <p> + “Nobody could form any judgment, at this distance of time, about the guilt + or innocence of Oppia or Opimia or Popilia or Porphilia or Orbilia or + Orbinia or whatever her real name was, it all happened so long ago. But + Minucia and Sextilia and Floronia and the rest were just victims of + judicial ferocity, as far as I can make out.” + </p> + <p> + “You are then of the opinion,” the Emperor asked, “that there never was a + guilty Vestal?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” Brinnaria replied judicially, “I don’t go as far as that. Varonilla + was probably depraved and with her the two Oculatas. I don’t think their + suicides prove anything against them, for a woman is just as likely to + hang herself because she despairs of a fair hearing as because she is + conscious of guilt. What weighs with me is that they were brought up in + the dissolute times of Messalina and Nero and that their relatives were + leaders of the most profligate set in Rome, cronies of Vitellius and his + coterie. But although Cornelia was bred and raised in the same social + atmosphere, I am quite as sure of her innocence as all the world was the + day she was buried and as everybody has been ever since. Domitian just + murdered her without a trial, for political reasons and for moral effect. + So likewise Marcia and the second Licinia were judicially murdered by that + fierce old Cassius Longinus Ravilla. He was elected to convict them, not + to try them, and he conducted the trial not to arrive at a fair verdict, + but to force a conviction. He had some excuse, for their acquittal on + their former trial had been brought about by idiotic bribing and family + influence. On the face of the evidence at both trials they were clearly + blameless. What ruined them was their trying to shield Aurelia, surely the + worst Vestal on record, for she had everything in her favor, ancestry, + upbringing and surroundings; she was beyond doubt innately vicious. She + was the only Vestal ever justly convicted and justly punished, in my + opinion. All the others were irreproachable women, doomed to a frightful + fate by prejudiced judges. In general, an accused Vestal is as good as + condemned, the whole population so dreads the results of acquitting an + unclean priestess. And it is the easiest thing in the world for a Vestal + to be accused. Refuse to sell a farm for half its value, snub a bore, + order a slave flogged for some unbearable blunder, and the result is the + same; false accusation with perjured witnesses and a quick conviction most + likely to follow.” + </p> + <p> + “The subject seems to have occupied your mind a great deal,” Aurelius + ruminated. + </p> + <p> + “Do you wonder?” Brinnaria flamed at him. “What in all the tragic, + dramatic history of Rome is half so dramatic or a tenth so tragic as the + burial of a Vestal? In all our centuries of ferocity, what seems half so + cruel? + </p> + <p> + “I know that cruelty played no part in the invention of burial alive as a + punishment for a convicted Vestal. I know that no caitiff could be found + so vile as to dare to lay hands on a Vestal, no ruffian so reckless as to + venture to end her life by sword or axe, by strangling or drowning. The + most impious miscreant has too much fear of the gods to injure a + consecrated priestess. The only way to dispose of a delinquent Vestal is + to bury her alive. But the cruelty of it makes me choke. I think of the + last hours of each of those who were punished, of their thoughts as the + time drew near, of their feelings alone in the dark waiting for death to + release them from their sufferings. + </p> + <p> + “I think of these underground cells as they are now, out there under that + awful unkempt, ragged waste lot by the Colline Gate. I think of the + skeletons mouldering on the mouldering cots, of the bones, the fragments + of crumbling bones, the dust of crumbled bones on the stone floors, as + they have been for hundreds of years, as they will be for thousands of + years to come. The cot cannot yet have decayed from under what is left of + poor Cornelia; her bones must still be entire and in order on the webbing; + Aurelia’s bones must be whole yet and Licinia’s and Marcia’s; of Floronia + there can hardly be left a trace by now, where Minucia died there can be + only an empty stone cell. Do you wonder that the subject haunts me?” + </p> + <p> + “I do and I do not,” Aurelius replied. “I’ve let you relieve your mind by + talking yourself tired. Now listen to me. I think I understand you + perfectly. When you came to me before the novel responsibilities of your + office had worn on your nerves and you were quivering with dread for fear + you might be an unworthy priestess. Now the perils of your situation are + wearing on your nerves and you are brooding over the possibility of + accusation, trial, conviction and burial alive. + </p> + <p> + “I sympathize with you. As an Emperor I am exposed to the perpetual danger + of assassination. You would be amazed if I detailed to you my various + narrow escapes from death at the hands of disappointed seekers after + preferment, of incompetent officials, of knaves with grievances of every + conceivable and inconceivable variety and of fools with no grievance at + all. You would be astonished if I merely reckoned the occasions on which I + have just missed being killed. It gets on my nerves, more or less, of + course. But I strive to bear up and remain calm and I succeed more or + less. I keep before me the fact that as an Emperor I am obnoxious to + countless hatreds from fancied slights and to uncountable schemes of + revenge. I reflect that the danger is inseparable from the state of my + being an Emperor. I try to be philosophical about it. + </p> + <p> + “So you must attempt to remain placid under the strain of the knowledge + that you are exposed to perpetual danger of a horrible death from + conviction on false accusation. It is part of the condition of being a + Vestal. If anything goes wrong in the way of earthquake, flood, famine, + pestilence, conflagrations or defeats, the populace are likely to cry out + that some Vestal is unclean and bringing down on the Empire the wrath of + the gods. That nothing of the kind has occurred during our recent + afflictions has been clearly due to the holiness of Dossonia and + Causidiena and to their reputation for strict discipline. But the danger + of popular outcry is always real. Then there is the fact that far too + large a proportion of our population are dissolute and that, among the + dissolute-minded, all Vestals are under suspicion because they are the + only women among our nobility who remain unmarried long after they have + reached marriageable years. You must learn to take all this as a matter of + course and to go sedately about your duties. + </p> + <p> + “Of course, I lessen my danger by keeping about me many trusty guards. It + is right that you should appeal to me in your anxiety. I shall do what I + can to lessen your danger. I believe in you. If you were accused before me + it would take notably plain and convincing evidence to make me believe + anything against you. I shall put my opinion of you on record among my + papers of instructions to my successor. I shall declare it to all the + Chief Pontiffs. I shall verbally and in writing make it clear to all + concerned that you seem to me all you should be, that you are in an + unusually difficult and delicate position and that in case of accusation + all presumption should be in favor of your innocence and against the + sincerity of your accusers. + </p> + <p> + “And now I think that ought to satisfy you and cover all the general + considerations. Let us come to the special consideration that interests me + chiefly. You have never come to me because you became gradually unnerved + by brooding which had no specific origin or cause: + </p> + <p> + “Tell me plainly and outspokenly what has happened to you lately to fill + your mind with thoughts of buried Vestals, trials, accusations and + terrors?” + </p> + <p> + Brinnaria thereupon related her encounter with Calvaster and her + conversation with Flexinna. + </p> + <p> + The Emperor stroked his beard and reflected. + </p> + <p> + “I have never liked Calvaster,” he said, “and if I had been in the city to + consider recommendations for appointments he would, assuredly, never have + become a member of Rome’s hierarchy. I deem him gravely unsuited for even + the most minor grade of Pontiff. He appears to me to be mean-spirited, + narrow-minded and base. I am inclined to believe of him all that you + impute. But, even to such as Calvaster, we should be just. You complained, + a while ago, that the judges of the Vestals had ignored both the facts and + the evidence. Let us weigh the evidence and stick to the facts. The only + fact you present is that you caught Calvaster lurking in your house. You + confess that you were completely puzzled as to what motive brought him + there. Your friend surmises an explanation which disgusts, insults and + alarms you. You instantly credit it completely, think and act as if it + were unquestionably true. I am prejudiced against Calvaster, as I have + told you, yet I am by no means ready to admit that your beliefs about him + are evidence against him, more particularly as they rest solely on + Flexinna’s ingenious conjectures. The notion is plausible and it is + entirely congruent with Calvaster’s character as I imagine it. Yet it is, + after all, merely a plausible surmise. I am just as inclined to accept + Calvaster’s own explanation; he is an inquisitive busybody. + </p> + <p> + “My verdict is that you need feel no alarm.” + </p> + <p> + “But I do,” Brinnaria maintained; “I do not feel safe with Calvaster + anywhere about.” + </p> + <p> + The Emperor reflected. + </p> + <p> + “The peace of mind of a Vestal,” he said, “is a matter of such importance + to the state that I should not hesitate about ordering Calvaster banished + to some comfortable and healthy island and there detained permanently, + were it not that the fellow has made himself almost indispensable. The + pestilence has carried off practically all the adepts at interpretation of + the sacred writings, the prophetic books, the rubrics and rituals of the + various temples, the statutes of the brotherhoods and other orders of the + hierarchy. Only Numerius Aproniarius remains of the older experts, and he + is afflicted by an incurable and loathsome disease which he cannot long + survive. Of the younger men only Calvaster has displayed any aptitude for + learning this delicate and complex art, only he has attained any + reputation. He is, in the circumstances, indispensable, I cannot banish + him merely to please you. You will have to endure Calvaster.” + </p> + <p> + Brinnaria pulled a wry face, as in her mutinous girlhood. She felt + entirely at ease with Aurelius. + </p> + <p> + “I perceive that I must endure him,” she said, “but if you cannot banish + Calvaster, perhaps you’ll oblige me by banishing Almo.” + </p> + <p> + “Almo!” the Emperor exclaimed, “what can you have against that gallant + lad? Have you turned against him? I thought you were unshakably resolved + to marry him, thought you loved him unalterably!” + </p> + <p> + “I shall marry him, if we both live,” Brinnaria replied, “and most + unalterably love him. But I love life and daylight and fresh air and my + full meals even more. I have a splendid appetite, I loath stuffy places, I + hate the dark. The idea of being shut in an underground cell to suffocate + slowly or starve to death even more slowly goes against my gorge. I see + myself in my mind’s eye climbing down that ladder, like poor Cornelia, I + see myself stretched out on my cot, watching the ladder being pulled up by + the executioner, watching the workmen fitting in the last stone of the + vault. I imagine myself staring at the wick of the lamp and wondering how + long the oil will last and debating whether it would be better to blow out + the light and save the oil to drink and so live longer in the dark, or to + let the lamp burn out and have the discomfort of the light a little + longer. I fancy myself conning over the trifle of bread, milk, fruit and + wine left on the stone slab, and speculating as to how long they’ll keep + me alive. + </p> + <p> + “Bah! + </p> + <p> + “No burial alive for me. + </p> + <p> + “Acquittal on a trial is a poor way for a Vestal to escape the worst + possible fate, a last resort, at best, and an unchancy reliance, even as a + last resort. A far better way is never to be tried, and the best way never + to be tried is never to be accused. You’ve been good enough to tell me + that if I were accused you’d be predisposed to favor me in all possible + ways and that you’ll give instructions as to your opinion of me. Any + directions of yours would be respected by any heir of yours. But you + yourself have just remarked how slender is an Emperor’s hold on life or on + power. I may survive both yourself and your son. I might be tried before + men we should never think of now. I must arrange so that I shall never be + tried at all, I must live so that I shall never be accused. + </p> + <p> + “Now I am unlikely ever to be accused in relation to any man except Almo. + Everybody knows I mean to marry Almo when my service is at an end, + everybody knows he means to marry me, everybody knows we are in love with + each other. That puts me in the most delicate position any Vestal ever was + placed in. I have been extremely careful. I have never spoken to Almo + since I was taken for a Vestal, have never met him except by accident, + have never set eyes on him except against my will; have never even written + a letter to him or received one from him. I have been, I think, wise, + judicious and controlled. But Almo has not behaved well towards me.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed!” Aurelius interjected. “You surprise me! What has he done?” + </p> + <p> + Brinnaria flushed. + </p> + <p> + “A girl in love,” she said, “is a fool, but she has sense enough to + conceal her foolishness. A man is different. I suppose men are made that + way and can’t help themselves. But a man in love is not only a fool, but + he parades his foolishness. Almo sent me messages by all sorts of mutual + acquaintances, by his people and mine, by Flexinna, by Nemestronia, by + Vocco, begging me to exchange letters with him. I was angry and said so + and repeatedly sent him word that he was most foolish and most + inconsiderate. I sent him word that if he wanted to please me he’d ignore + my existence and stay as far from me as possible. + </p> + <p> + “He actually begged his father to be allowed to come to Rome. His father + had the good sense to keep him at Falerii. Now that all his relatives are + dead and he is his own master he has come to Rome. If he had any real + consideration for me he’d go to Aquileia, at least he might be satisfied + with a popular resort like Baiae or a place like Capua; Capua has enough + baths and shows and horse-races and gladiators for anybody. + </p> + <p> + “But he must come to Rome, when a spark of sense and decency would tell + him to keep as far away as he could. It stands to reason that I could + never be accused of misconduct with him if he had never been within a + hundred miles of me since I was taken for a Vestal. + </p> + <p> + “But he must needs come to Rome. He has opened his house on the Carinae + and had it put in order and has settled down to such a life here as is + usual with wealthy leisured idlers. He has bought additional furniture, as + if his father’s house wasn’t stuffed with everything magnificent, he has + bought curios and antiques and statuary and pictures and books. He spends + most of his time in the barracks of his favorite gladiatorial company or + at the stables of the Greens, and the rest of it at the afternoon baths. I + sent Vocco to him to protest and to urge him to leave Rome for my sake. + The selfish wretch said he loved me and always would, but he just could + not live anywhere except at Rome. He stays here, in defiance of my wishes + and against all reason.” + </p> + <p> + “That is not what I should have expected of him,” the Emperor meditated. + “I am surprised and far from pleased. I shall certainly find means to + relieve your mind as far as he is concerned.” + </p> + <p> + “There is worse yet to tell,” Brinnaria went on. “You’d think that, if he + must stay in Rome he’d at least have the decency to keep away from me and + from places where he is likely to encounter me. He does just the reverse. + He haunts me, he waylays me. He prowls up and down the Via Sacra and the + Via Nova, he stands in the moonlight and stares up at the outside windows + of the Atrium; on festival days he waits outside of our entrance to the + Colosseum or of the Circus Maximus to watch me enter; on any day he + loiters about the portal of the Atrium to watch me come out to my litter + or my carriage, he dogs me on my airings.” + </p> + <p> + “Hercules!” Aurelius exclaimed. “This is too bad!” + </p> + <p> + “Too bad indeed,” Brinnaria pursued; “it would be bad enough from anybody + in his position, from him it is ten times worse than from anyone else. You + know how individual Almo is, how almost peculiar he looks, how no one + would mistake him for anyone else or forget him or fail to recognize him. + I have often tried to analyze the factors that go to make him look so + striking, but I cannot. He is perfectly proportioned in every measurement, + yet, somehow, he has a long-armed and long-legged appearance different + from that of any young man in Rome, he gives almost the effect of + reminding one of a spider or of a grasshopper or of a daddy-long-legs. It + makes him the most conspicuous, the most recognizable man in all Rome. + Why, if your son were to mingle in a crowd, habited like any other boy in + that crowd and Almo did the same, and nobody in the crowd had any reason + to expect to see either, Almo would most likely be noticed sooner than + Antoninus, recognized more generally, more readily, further off and + quicker.” + </p> + <p> + “You are right,” Aurelius mused, “I never thought of that, but Almo is + unforgettable, striking and arresting to the eye beyond any lad in our + nobility.” + </p> + <p> + “And being what he is,” Brinnaria raged, “he must needs arrange that + nearly every crowd I am in should see him at the same time as me. Already + thousands of reputable Romans must remember seeing us at the same glance. + Before long the majority will be ready to recall, if the subject is + broached, that they have habitually seen him wherever they saw me. Some + one will start the talk and presently all Rome will buzz with the gossip + that we are continually seen together. A charming state of affairs for me + if some busybody or some enemy of mine raises the question of my fitness + for my holy duties! I have protested. I’ve had Vocco go to Almo and urge + all these considerations on him, and the silly boy says he can’t live + without seeing me, that he longs for the sight of me so he cannot control + himself. How’s that for lover’s folly? One minute he can’t live away from + Rome, he loves Rome more than he loves me; the next minute I’m the one + object on earth which he must behold or die. I’ve no patience with such + imbecility.” + </p> + <p> + “And I have very little,” said the Emperor; “just enough to imagine a + better way of disburdening you and of disposing of Almo than banishing him + would be. The lad is far too good to be wasting his time with the + horse-jockeys and charioteers and ostlers of the Greens, or brutalizing + himself with the companionship of ruffianly prize-fighters, belonging to + this or that speculator in the flesh of ferocious savages. He must find + some outlet for his energies and interests and is carried away by the + fashionable mania, which is corrupting our whole population, especially + our young nobles, and which, even at his tender age, fills the thoughts of + my son, to the despair of his tutors. + </p> + <p> + “All Almo needs is worthy occupation. I’ll put the sea between him and you + and so put your mind at rest. I’ll make a man of him at the same time. + I’ll appeal to his pride and his patriotism. Rome needs such keen-minded, + capable youths on the frontiers. I’ll not give him too hard or too + unpleasant employment, not relegate him to Britain or Dacia or Syria. I’ll + send him to Africa to chase the desert nomads who are harrying the borders + of Numidia and Mauretania. He can gain credit there without danger, can + learn to command men and to know the great game of war. Nepte and Bescera + are pleasant little cities—he will be comfortable between campaigns. + I’ll see he sets out the day after to-morrow, at latest.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0011" id="link2HCH0011"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XI - FAREWELL + </h2> + <p> + Two days later, Brinnaria had a visit from Flexinna. Flexinna’s eyes were + dancing. + </p> + <p> + “G-G-Guess where I’ve been,” she challenged. + </p> + <p> + “I’m not good at guessing,” Brinnaria parried; “better tell me.” + </p> + <p> + “I’ve b-b-been to the Palace,” Flexinna revealed. + </p> + <p> + “What took you there?” Brinnaria queried, surprised. + </p> + <p> + “I was sent for,” Flexinna declared, elated. + </p> + <p> + “Who’d you see?” Brinnaria enquired. + </p> + <p> + “The Emperor himself,” proclaimed Flexinna triumphantly. + </p> + <p> + Brinnaria was very much astonished. + </p> + <p> + “Better tell me the whole story,” she suggested. + </p> + <p> + “Not much story,” said Flexinna. “Aurelius t-t-told me that he wanted + t-t-to see you again and that, as a formal visit from the Emperor as + P-P-Pontifex Maximus at the Atrium was unusual and was likely to c-c-cause + g-g-gossip, whereas you Vestals are c-c-continually at the Palace to ask + favors for all sorts of people who p-p-pester you to use your influence + with the Emperor, he thought it b-b-best to suggest that you apply for an + audience t-t-to-morrow. He said he wanted the intimation c-c-conveyed to + you as unobtrusively as p-p-possible and d-d-desired p-p-particularly that + no one should ever know or g-g-guess that it had b-b-been g-g-given. So he + sent for me, as your b-b-best friend, since he was sure I would never + t-t-tell anybody. + </p> + <p> + “B-B-Better send along your application for an audience. It was p-p-plain + to me that he has something agreeable to t-t-tell you. His face was just + as g-g-grave as usual but his eyes sparkled at me, as d-d-different as + p-p-possible from their habitual dull filmed appearance. He was all + k-k-kindliness and anticipation.” + </p> + <p> + “I’m willing to take the hint, of course,” Brinnaria replied. + </p> + <p> + Next morning she found Aurelius most cordial and informal in his greeting + to her. + </p> + <p> + “I’ve been investigating Almo,” he said, “and I am more than pleased with + all I can learn of him. I see no reason for not telling you that, from the + very day you were taken as a Vestal, some of the most expert, secret and + trustworthy men in the employ of the information department have had no + other duties than to keep close watch upon you and Almo. I have been over + all the papers relating to him and to you, I have talked with the men + themselves. They all assure me that never once have you and Almo met since + he reached your father’s house a half hour too late. They also report + that, in the course of his injudicious moonings about your haunts, he has + always kept at a respectful distance. And except for those same loverly + danglings about places where he might catch glimpses of you, I can find + nothing against the lad. Everybody speaks most highly of him. His former + tutors and preceptors are enthusiastic in their laudations of his + capacities, abilities, diligence and attainments in all matters pertaining + to books and study. About Falerii he was regarded as a fine specimen of a + young nobleman, huntsman and swimmer, good at all rustic sports, as + haughty as the proudest when he was given good cause to assert himself, + but habitually affable, unassuming and sunny tempered. Towards his + father’s tenants and slaves he was most kindly and nothing could be more + to any man’s credit than his downright heroic behavior from the very day + the pestilence appeared on his estates, all through the frightful period + of its raging about Falerii, until the neighborhood had somewhat recovered + after the plague had abated. + </p> + <p> + “The most extraordinary feature of the reports about him is that they all + agree as to his amazing devotion to you. All persons who know him or know + of him are unanimous in the opinion that he has never taken the slightest + personal interest in any human being except yourself; all are emphatic in + stating that he has certainly never manifested any affection for anyone + else. This is unprecedented. I never heard of such another case. There is + nothing astonishing about a young Roman declaring that he would remain + unmarried for thirty years in order to mate, ultimately, with the girl of + his choice. There is nothing wonderful about his keeping his word. But any + other youth I ever heard of would have consoled himself variously, and + variedly. Almo’s austere celibacy is a portent in our world and altogether + marvellous. It lifts his affair with you out of the humdrum atmosphere of + to-day and puts it on a level with the legendary stories of heroic times, + with the life-long fidelities of the Milesian tales. + </p> + <p> + “Under the stress of such severe and unflinching self isolation I do not + wonder that his broodings drove him to overstep the bounds of common + sense, that he was irresistibly compelled to leave Falerii, to come to + Rome, to loiter where he might, at least, behold you at a distance. I + shall make sure that he does so no longer. This very day he sets out for + Carthage, Theveste and the deserts to the south beyond the lagoons of + Nepte. But I cannot be angry with him for being unable to restrain his + longing at least to set eyes on you. And I see no reason why you two, who + have not exchanged a word in more than nine years, should not meet here in + this room and say farewell to each other before I put the Mediterranean + between you.” + </p> + <p> + Brinnaria sprang up. + </p> + <p> + “I see many reasons,” she declared, “and my feelings are all against + seeing Almo until my service as a Vestal is ended.” + </p> + <p> + “I can well believe,” came the answer, “that you feel that way at the + first presentation of the idea. But I am your Emperor and also Chief + Pontiff of Rome. I am engaged at present in solving the problem of ow best + to ensure peace of mind to one of Rome’s Vestals. To ensure her peace of + mind I am about to relegate her future husband to important duties on a + far frontier of the Empire. I judge that he will better perform his + duties, that she will better perform hers, if she bids him farewell in my + presence. I am a lover of wisdom and a student of wisdom.* I believe I + possess some pretensions to wisdom. Will you not defer to me in this? I am + of the opinion that he will worry less about you and you less about him if + you see each other once before your twenty years of certain separation + begins.” + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *The wisdom of Marcus Aurelius was recognized during his + lifetime and is highly regarded even today, over 1900 years + later. His book, <i>Meditations</i>, remains in print and is + available through Project Gutenberg.—PG Ed. +</pre> + <p> + Brinnaria looked mutinous and gazed at the Emperor in silence. In silence + he waited for her to speak. At last she said, curtly: + </p> + <p> + “I bow to your authority.” + </p> + <p> + The Emperor struck his silver gong and a page appeared. Aurelius gave a + brief order. A few moments later Almo was ushered in. After his formal + salute to the Emperor he stood silent, his eyes fixed on Brinnaria. + </p> + <p> + They made a fine picture. The ceiling of the immense hall was a + barrel-vault, of which the beams were stuccoed in cream-white, picked out + with gilding, while between them the depth of each soffit was colored an + intense deep blue, against which stood out a great gilt rosette. The + mighty pilasters, whose gilded capitals supported the vaulting, were of + many-veined dark yellow marble, polished and gleaming like the slabs of + pale yellow marble which panelled the interspaces. The high-moulded + wainscot was of red and green porphyry, somberly smooth and shining. + Against it, below the wall-panels, were set great chests of carved and + gilded wood, while about the bases of the pilasters were placed groups of + settees and armchairs, similarly carved and gilded and richly upholstered. + The floor was paved with an intricate mosaic of parti-colored bits of + marble, its expanse broken only by the great gorgeous carpet before the + throne, by the chair set for Brinnaria, by the onyx table, supported on + sculptured monsters like griffons, beside the throne, and by the throne + itself, a curule seat of ivory mounted with gold, its crimson cushion + glowing, set far out in the room. + </p> + <p> + Before the throne stood Aurelius, his head bare, the long ringlets of his + hair and beard sweeping his shoulders and his bosom, one foot a trifle + advanced, the gold eagle embroidered on his sky-blue buskin showing + beneath the crimson silk robes, lavishly embroidered with a complicated + pattern of winding vines, bright blue and green, edged with gold, which + the etiquette of the time imposed upon even a philosophically austere + Emperor; on his right Brinnaria, erect and tense in her white official + habit, her square white headdress all but hiding her coronet of dark + braids, her veil pushed back from her flushed face; the tassels and + ribbons of her head-band, her great pearl necklace, the big pearl brooch + that fastened the folds of her headdress where they crossed on her breast, + and the bunch of fresh white flowers which it clasped, rising and falling + with the heaving of her bosom; facing her, splendid in the gilded armor + and scarlet cloak of a commander of irregular cavalry, Almo. + </p> + <p> + “You know why I have sent for you,” Aurelius reminded him. “Speak out.” + </p> + <p> + Like a school-boy repeating a lesson by rote, Alma spoke. + </p> + <p> + “Brinnaria,” he said, “the Emperor has remonstrated with me on my recent + folly. I am sincerely ashamed of myself and I wish to apologize to you for + my lack of self-control and for my lack of consideration for you. I leave + Rome before sunset and shall not return until I may return without danger + to you.” + </p> + <p> + Aurelius looked at Brinnaria. + </p> + <p> + “Caius,” she said, “I forgive you. I trust that you will win promotion and + honor where you are going and I am sure that you will do your duty to the + Empire. May the blessing of all the gods be on you and may you return to + me safe and well.” + </p> + <p> + “And may I find you safe and well when I return,” spoke Almo. “Farewell, + Brinnaria.” + </p> + <p> + “Farewell, Caius,” said she. + </p> + <p> + The Emperor nodded and Almo bowed himself out. + </p> + <p> + “Do you know,” said Aurelius, when they were alone, “I have been thinking + over what you said about Almo’s peculiar notability of looks. It puzzles + me as it puzzles you. He is not merely of distinguished appearance, he is + unusual, striking, unforgettable, conspicuous. I have talked about it to + several of my gentlemen-in-waiting, equerries and orderlies. They have + seen him lately about the stables of the Greens. They all say that he is, + in fact, as normally proportioned as any youth alive, but they confirm + what you said about his long-legged appearance. Julianus used almost the + same word you used, said Almo looked ‘Grasshoppery.’ They all say Almo is + precisely the most unmistakable, the most readily and quickly recognizable + youth in all our young nobility.” + </p> + <p> + Brinnaria rose to go. Aurelius bent on her a kindly smile. + </p> + <p> + “I have been talking about you with Faustina,” he said. “We are both much + interested by the strangeness of your fate, by the difficulty and delicacy + of your situation and by the wonderful constancy of you both. Faustina and + I are a most united pair, never happy out of each other’s company and very + proud of our domestic felicity. We are, if I may use the word, rather + prone to gloat over it, and, while continually congratulating ourselves + and each other, we cannot but mourn the infrequency of such happiness + throughout our Italian nobility. There are few matrons in Rome as serenely + happy as your friend Flexinna, few indeed who find all their happiness in + children, husband and household. And of those who really enjoy their homes + most are remarried after a divorce, or even after two or more. Our society + suffers from a plague worse than the pestilence itself, a plague of greed + for excitement, eagerness for novelty, of peevishness and fickleness. + </p> + <p> + “In this unhealthy atmosphere such households as Vocco’s are most notable. + And that you, who seem by nature fitted for just such blessedness as has + befallen Flexinna, should have been robbed of it by a strange series of + peculiar circumstances wins for you our interest and our solicitude. Still + more are our hearts drawn towards you by your unwavering fidelity, alike + to your present duties and all that they imply and to that love which you + have had to put away and forget, to the ideal of that felicity which you + have had to postpone so far. + </p> + <p> + “Faustina desires an interview with you. She is now in the amber gallery. + I shall have you conducted there, if you do not object.” + </p> + <p> + Brinnaria could not very well object and after an equerry, very stately in + his garb of duty, and two gaudily clad pages had escorted her through what + seemed like miles of corridors, she found herself alone with the Empress. + </p> + <p> + The Empress she had so far seen infrequently and spoken with only seldom. + It was impossible to be a Vestal, in the heyday of Rome’s Imperial times, + and not meet and know the Empress of Rome. Brinnaria had seen her whenever + they were both present at the Circus or the Amphitheatre; had been close + to her at all important state functions; had occasionally dined with her + at formal Palace banquets, when the curved sofa about the Empress’ table + was always occupied by the Empress, the wives of the chief Flamens and the + Vestals; but had hardly ever exchanged a word with her. + </p> + <p> + Faustina was endowed with the general healthiness with which Roman + noblewomen were blessed. But she had had the bad luck to suffer from many + and severe illnesses. These and her slow recoveries from them had kept her + away from very many official functions and public festivals. Numerous had + been the occasions on which Aurelius had appeared without her. When she + was well, indeed, they were always together, if possible. A great + proportion of his time, however, was occupied with official duties of such + a nature that, according to Roman etiquette, no woman could participate in + them. During such enforced separations Faustina sought amusement. And with + the overflowing energy and abounding vigor which she displayed between her + illness, she threw herself into the whirl of her pleasures with such + impetuosity, there was so much rollicking and roistering about her + favorite diversions that she attracted to herself and kept around her just + those elements of Roman society with which the Vestals were least likely + to mingle, professional idlers, and what we moderns would call the fast + set. Naturally, therefore, Brinnaria and Faustina had never had any + familiar intercourse. This was their first real conversation. + </p> + <p> + Faustina was not a large woman. She was of medium height, slender and + graceful. She was noted for the originality of her coiffures, which made + the most of her magnificent hair. Her hair Brinnaria noticed the moment + her eyes fell on her. + </p> + <p> + Her habitual expression of haughtiness and boredom had vanished from the + Empress’s face and she was all kindliness and solicitude. + </p> + <p> + Faustina put her at her ease at once. + </p> + <p> + “I have always been so sorry,” she began, “that I was ill the day you + climbed over the balustrade of the podium and rescued the retiarius. I’ve + missed many a sight I regretted, I miss so much by falling ill again and + again, but I never missed a sight I regretted missing more than that. + Nothing more worth seeing ever happened in the Colosseum.” + </p> + <p> + “I was terribly ashamed when I found what I had done,” said Brinnaria. + </p> + <p> + “Of course you were,” the Empress agreed. + </p> + <p> + This broke the ice between them and Faustina led her into a long talk + about all her past, her love affair, her life as a Vestal, her + bereavements, her embarrassing circumstances, her future, her hopes. + </p> + <p> + Brinnaria left the Empress, feeling that she had found a real friend and + also feeling comforted at heart. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0012" id="link2HCH0012"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XII -OBSERVANCES + </h2> + <p> + BRINNARIA found that, with Almo definitely and permanently out of the way, + she did not worry about Calvaster. She also found that she did not worry + about Almo and that her glimpse of him had rather calmed her feelings. She + confessed as much to Aurelius when she had a third audience with him + before he left for the Rhine frontier, and she thanked him for his + insistence. + </p> + <p> + With her mind at peace Brinnaria settled more and more into the routine of + her life and enjoyed it more and more. + </p> + <p> + She came to feel keenly the spiritual significance of every detail of the + ritual observances in which she took part. Besides the maintenance of the + sacred fire, the Vestals had many obligatory duties. Every sacrifice of + the Roman public worship involved the sprinkling of the sacred meal upon + the head of the victim, if a live animal was offered, or upon the fire, if + the sacrifice was bloodless. Early in each ceremony one of the small boys + assisting the priest carried around to all the participants in the act of + worship a maple-wood box containing the holy meal; from it each worshipper + ladled a small portion into the palm of his right hand; at a specified + point in the course of the ceremonial each participant sprinkled the meal + as prescribed. + </p> + <p> + The holy meal was made of very coarsely ground wheat, a sort of grits, + salted and toasted. It was prepared by the Vestals according to immemorial + custom. They were supplied with a sufficient quantity of heads of wheat, + the best of the produce of two of their estates, one near Caere, the other + near Lanuvium. These wheat ears were packed in baskets and stored on the + farms in dry, airy barns. There they were kept drying and hardening their + grains until the next spring. Then the allotted baskets were brought into + Rome. On the seventh of May, after a ceremonial of prayer, the three elder + Vestals began going over these wheat-ears, sorting out those entirely + perfect, and placing them in larger baskets shaped like the big earthen + jars in which the Romans commonly tored wheat, olives, oil, wine and other + similar supplies. On the next day the wheat from the first day’s selection + of ears was separated from the straw, beards and chaff, was roasted and + coarsely ground. The resultant groats were then put away in great earthen + jars in the outer storeroom of the temple. On the third day they again + selected wheat ears, on the fourth they again prepared wheat-grits, and so + on alternately for eight days. By the evening of the eighth day they had + stored enough groats to make the sacred meal for one year’s ceremonies of + the entire Roman ritual. + </p> + <p> + The salt with which they salted the holy meal was prepared with similar + invariable formality. Crude salt, obtained from evaporated sea-water out + of the sand-pits on the seashore near Lavinium, was conveyed to the Atrium + in small two-handled earthenware jars. This coarse, dirty, dark-colored + salt was dissolved by the three younger Vestals in boiling water, which + water might not be obtained from the lead pipes which connected the Atrium + with the general water-supply of the city’s aqueducts, but must be drawn + by the Vestals themselves and carried by them in the earthenware jars from + the famous fountain of Jaturna, at which Castor and Pollux were fabled to + have watered their white horses after bringing to Rome the news of the + victory at Lake Regillus. The solution was purified by repeated boilings, + the impurities being gotten rid of by successive careful decantings of the + liquid from one vessel into another, so that the sediment might be left + behind as the top part was poured off. When sufficiently boiled down the + solution was recrystallized in shallow earthenware pans. The resulting + slabs of salt were harder than the pans and were freed from them by + breaking the earthenware with an ancient stone hammer, said to have been + captured by AEneas himself from a king of Ardea. The slabs of salt were + sawed into pieces with an iron saw, the pieces were pounded in a mortar, + the fine salt was thrown into an earthenware bowl and dried out in a kiln. + When dried a little powdered gypsum was stirred through it to prevent it + from again becoming moist. It was then stored in a tall jar with a tight + lid, which was kept in the outer storeroom of the temple, along with the + jars of meal. Three times a year, on the ninth of June, on the thirteenth + of September and on the fifteenth of February, with solemn prayers the + Vestals mixed the prepared salt with the prepared grits, the resultant + mixture being the sacred meal. + </p> + <p> + On each First of March the fire in the temple was allowed to go out and + was solemnly rekindled by the friction of maple wood on apple wood, as + when the fire went out by accident. The temple was then decorated with + fresh boughs of green laurel, after the boughs put up the year before had + been removed. + </p> + <p> + On May fifteenth the Vestals were the chief figures in a solemn procession + of the entire Roman hierarchy to the Sublician bridge, from which the + Vestals threw into the Tiber thirty dolls made of rushes, fifteen + representing men, fifteen women, each about two feet high. + </p> + <p> + This offering to the river of effigies of men and women commemorated the + primitive human sacrifices by which the river was each year placated, that + it might not drown more by floods. + </p> + <p> + On June fifth the inner storeroom of the temple was opened and its + treasures inspected by the Pontifex wearing his antique vestments. With + him entered always also the Chief Vestal clad in her austere habit with + all her badges of office. They were attended by the other Vestals, who + went through traditional pacings, haltings and prayers. The Temple of + Vesta was an enclosure from which all men were rigidly excluded. The only + exceptions to this immemorial taboo were a few of the more important + Pontiffs, and they might only enter on specified festal days, and then + must be in their full regalia. Also, in general, the temple was closed + against all women except the Vestals and their assistants. It was open, + however, from sunrise on the morning of each seventh of June until sunset + on the evening of the fourteenth of June. During this period it was + incumbent upon every Roman matron to visit the temple. And each worshipper + must walk the entire distance from her home to the temple and must leave + her house barefoot, barefoot she must walk from the temple to her home. + Only illness excused a Roman woman from this religious duty. Few ever + omitted it from indifference. + </p> + <p> + During these eight days the temple was thronged. + </p> + <p> + During these eight days also fell the great yearly festival of Vesta, on + the ninth of June, on which day also all millers kept holiday, with + processions and picnics to which the mill-donkeys were led decorated with + wreaths of flowers and strings of tiny, crisp-baked rolls. + </p> + <p> + On June fifteenth the temple was ceremonially cleaned and the sweepings + and the ashes collected from the sacred fire for the year past were + solemnly carried in a stately procession to a prescribed spot on the slope + of the Capitol where a great pit was closed by a heavy maple-wood door. In + this pit the ashes were reverently buried. + </p> + <p> + Besides these observances of their special cult the Vestals took part in + nearly every important sacrifice, procession and festival of the public + worship of Rome. They were busy women and among them Brinnaria was + anything but idle. She never found time hang heavy on her hands. + </p> + <p> + So busied with her duties she passed three peaceful years, contented and + happy. There was but one drawback to life in the Atrium from Brinnaria’s + point of view. That drawback was Meffia. Meffia was never ill but never + well. Everything tired her. It tired her to walk upstairs, to stand for + any length of time, to do anything. She was forever sitting down to rest + or lying down to rest. Excitement exhausted her totally. She was a + perpetual worry to the other Vestals. + </p> + <p> + Otherwise Brinnaria was very happy. Through Flexinna she had frequent news + of Almo. Ancient Rome had no institution, public or private, in any way + corresponding to our post office. But routes of trade and travel by land + and sea were well defined and traffic along them fairly regular, on the + most used routes almost continual. There were private organizations, + vaguely resembling our modern express companies, which forwarded + merchandise along the main-travelled routes and even into remote regions. + Their messengers took charge of bales, boxes and packages of all sizes and + also of letters. The service on the roads of Africa, from Bescera, Nepte + and Putea along the frontier of the desert, through Lambese, Capsa and + Thysdrus, to Carthage, by well-built vehicles with frequent relays of + horses on the excellent highroads was fairly good. The ships from Sicily + plied with almost the regularity of our ocean-liners. Roads and + road-service in Sicily were of a high quality of excellence. The transit + to Italy at Messina was a sort of ferry. Italy was served by a network of + roads always busy. Almo’s letters to Flexinna were fairly regular and + Vocco heard frequently from his friends among Almo’s brother officers and + sometimes from his military superiors. + </p> + <p> + Almo was an immediate and brilliant success as a leader of scouting + expeditions, cavalry dashes, and, within a year, of raids in considerable + force. His men adored him at once; his fellow-officers found him excellent + company, unassuming and companionable, his commanders came early to rely + on him. He won an excellent reputation and was universally regarded as a + young officer of great promise, likely to rise to high position and not + unlikely to become famous. + </p> + <p> + This kind of news delighted Brinnaria and promoted her peace of mind. In + great contentment she went about her duties, loving them more and more + from month to month, preparing the blessed salt, assisting at sacrifices, + participating in processions. + </p> + <p> + Also interest in music and enjoyment of music came to play more and more a + part in her spiritual life. As a child she had hated music and had been in + continual conflict with her musical governesses. Even after she entered + the Atrium her aversion to learning anything about music had given + Causidiena a great deal of trouble. Later Brinnaria was docile, but the + reverse of enthusiastic. Only after Almo’s departure for Africa did music + begins to mean anything to her. + </p> + <p> + But one keyed instrument was known to the ancients. That was a form of + organ, in effect and appearance not very dissimilar to a small portable + modern organ, with one bank of keys. Its mechanism, however, was very + different in respect to the construction of the pipe stops and bellows. In + particular, the steady flow of air to the pipes was obtained from the + pressure of water, and a receptacle partly filled with water was an + essential part of every Roman organ. From this feature it was called the + water-organ. The Emperor Nero had been a notable performer on the + water-organ and had interested himself in some improvements in its + mechanism. + </p> + <p> + As with the modern organ, so with the Roman water-organ, the sonorous, + sustained and resonant notes lent themselves naturally to the expression + of religious emotion. + </p> + <p> + Religious emotions, Brinnaria, at this period of her life, felt to an + overwhelming extent. She expressed them in long colloquies with Numisia + and Causidiena, in a tendency to be unnecessarily careful about her + duties, to pet her daily routine, as it were; and in an awakening to the + charms of music in general and of organ music in particular. She developed + into a capable performer on the water-organ, bought for herself the finest + to be found in all Rome, had it set up in the Atrium in place of the old + one which had belonged to the order of Vestals, and sat before it for + hours at a time. + </p> + <p> + Her solitary communings with her favorite instrument became her chief + solace when she was: low-spirited, which was seldom, and her favorite + diversion when she was high-spirited, which was often. Moreover, her + rendition of well-known airs and he improvisings came to be a great + pleasure to all the inmates of the Atrium, most of all to Causidiena. + </p> + <p> + Besides her many duties and her indoor amusements, Brinnaria found time + for much activity outside the Atrium. She had kept up her girlish + friendship for the sieve-maker Truttidius, and saw him occasionally, + sometimes ordering her litter halted before his shop and leaning out to + ask after his health and that of his family. Truttidius had an ailing + household, though he himself was always well and never seemed to get any + older. + </p> + <p> + From her talks with Truttidius she came to take a personal interest in the + welfare of the countless tenants in her many properties in the poorer + quarters of the city. She visited some of them-a sort of approach to + modern slumming by the philanthropic rich. Such actions on the part of a + landowner and such an attitude of mind from any rich person toward the + poor was very unusual in the ancient world. Her behavior in this regard + won Brinnaria a sort of fame among the poor, as if she were a live goddess + moving among them. + </p> + <p> + She had a healthy love of mere enjoyment too. Except when she happened to + be on duty watching the sacred fire, she never missed a theatrical + performance, a gladiatorial display or an exhibition of chariot-racing in + anyone of the vast race-courses flanked by tiers of stone-seats, which the + Romans called circuses. At all shows, whether of scenic artists, fighting + men or speeding horses, the Vestals had specified seats, as good as the + best. + </p> + <p> + Besides these formal pleasures, she took great delight in mixing in + society merely for society’s sake. Moderns are likely to imagine that the + Vestals of ancient Rome were nuns or something like nuns. They were + nothing of the sort. They were maiden ladies of wealth and position whose + routine duties brought them into familiar association with all the men + important in the Roman government, hierarchy, nobility and gentry and with + their wives and daughters. They were women of such importance in their + world that their acquaintance was sought by all who had any pretensions to + being entitled to meet them and by shoals of social bounders who had none. + Their influence was so powerful that they were unremittingly sought, + waylaid, pursued and besieged by persons who hoped to enlist their + interest in the appointment or promotion of this, that or the other + connection or relative; by the same persons they were continually + overwhelmed with presents of flowers, fruit, delicacies, dainties, + ornaments, laces, garments, pieces of furniture, horses, slaves, and of + anything and everything capable of being made a present of in the Roman + world; likewise with social invitations-chiefly to dinners, banquets and + feasts. Invitations to banquets and dinners Brinnaria seldom declined, + unless her duties made acceptance impossible or the invitation came from + people beneath her notice. As she had said to Aurelius, she had an + excellent appetite. She had an epicurean tendency from her early years and + was fond of oysters, sweetbreads, eels, thrushes, turbot and other + articles of food esteemed as delicacies by the Romans. But she was a + hearty eater and consumed generous portions of roast meats, particularly + of pork, which even in late imperial times was the staple of Roman diet. + She never lost her childish relish for boiled pork and cabbage, for bacon, + for ham, hot or cold. She was by no means a glutton, ate deliberately and + daintily, and while she ate, joined in the general conversation or even + led it. She had a quick wit and a sharp tongue and her sallies were + acclaimed. She was sought after as a guest not merely because she was a + Vestal, but for herself, for her gaiety and her unexpected utterances. + </p> + <p> + On the whole she preferred informal dinners to formal banquets and liked + better to dine with her friends than with the most luxurious entertainers + in Roman society. + </p> + <p> + With Vocco and Flexinna she dined frequently, three times a month at least + and generally oftener. Brinnaria loved children, especially babies, and + there was always a baby in the Istorian household—Flexinna’s babies + were all healthy and grew famously. Of the six children, Brinnaria could + not have told which she loved or which loved her most. Her arrivals were + always heralded with shouts of glee, her romps with the children always + put her in a good humor, her swim with Flexinna sharpened an appetite + which needed no edge, while the cosiness and informality of Flexinna’s + dining-room, where each of the three had undivided possession of one + entire sofa, made it certain that nothing marred her enjoyment. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0013" id="link2HCH0013"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIII - PERVERSITY + </h2> + <p> + ABOUT three years after her farewell to Almo, on entering Vocco’s house + one afternoon, Brinnaria had a presentiment of something wrong. The + children were as vociferous and as whimsical as usual, but there was a + nameless difference in Flexinna’s expression and bearing. As soon as they + were alone in their bath, after she had had one good plunge in the pool, + Brinnaria, treading water in the deepest part of the tank, shaking her + head like a wet spaniel, demanded: + </p> + <p> + “What is the matter? There’s something wrong. You might as well tell me.” + </p> + <p> + But Flexinna put her off and laughed at her insistence. + </p> + <p> + To Brinnaria the laughter seemed forced and so did the talk at dinner. No + sooner was the dinner over and the tray of figs, almonds and pomegranates + and other fruit on the table, than she whispered to Flexinna: + </p> + <p> + “Tell the servants to stay out. I want to talk.” Flexinna signed to Vocco + and they exchanged glances. + </p> + <p> + “Why did you keep up the farce so long?” Brinnaria sneered. “I saw through + it from the first.” + </p> + <p> + “We were afraid,” Vocco apologized, “that what I have to tell you would + spoil your appetite.” + </p> + <p> + “It would take something pretty bad to spoil my appetite,” Brinnaria + reflected. “Is Almo dead?” + </p> + <p> + “Not so b-b-bad as that,” spoke Flexinna. + </p> + <p> + “Tell me, Quintus,” Brinnaria breathed. + </p> + <p> + Vocco fidgeted. + </p> + <p> + “It’s an amazing story,” he began. + </p> + <p> + “All his story, all my story, all our story,” Brinnaria cut in, “is + amazing. Leave out the comments and tell the story.” + </p> + <p> + “While Almo was away on the expedition against the nomads of the plateau,” + Vocco narrated, “Pennasius fell ill, was allowed to resign his + governorship and Grittonius took his place. On Almo’s return Grittonius + complimented him most highly and promised him any reward he asked for. + Almo amazed him by asking for a full and honorable discharge from the + army. Grittonius expostulated with him but Almo held him to his promise. + In spite of the governor’s appeals to his pride and to his patriotism he + insisted, and Grittonius gave him his full official discharge. At once + Almo applied for permission to sell himself as a slave. This so astounded + Grittonius that he made him repeat the application before witnesses and + give his reasons. Almo explained that he had always been devoted to + horseracing and that he wanted formally and regularly to article himself + to one of the racing companies as a charioteer; that he had always craved + that life and had longed for it more and more as his career as a soldier + went on. He said there was no use in his continuing a life he detested, + nor missing the happiness he anticipated as a charioteer. + </p> + <p> + “Grittonius had him examined by a committee of the most reputed physicians + of the province. They reported Almo entirely sane. Grittonius wanted to + hold the matter over until he had special permission from the Emperor. + Almo craftily maintained that Grittonius had been made governor with the + fullest powers on all lines specifically to save the Emperor from being + bothered about such trifles. Grittonius yielded. The necessary papers were + drawn up, all the depositions were made out in duplicate. Every formality + was fulfilled and Almo was publicly sold as a slave in the market place of + Hippo.” + </p> + <p> + “What company did he enter?” Brinnaria queried. + </p> + <p> + “Veppius did not state,” Vocco replied; “he merely said that Almo sailed + the next day for Spain.” + </p> + <p> + “The fool!” Brinnaria cried. “The three fools; a fool of a Veppius to + write so vaguely, a fool of a governor to be persuaded so easily and Almo + the biggest fool of all! + </p> + <p> + “What a fool of a lover I have! Are all men like that? I’m as much in love + with him as he with me and I can behave myself decently and keep outwardly + calm and observe the conventions of life. Why can’t he be decent? How can + it comfort a man in love to throw away a splendid career, abandon a great + income and vanish from the ken of all who love him? What madness is this + with which the gods afflict him? Oh, I could tear my hair with rage!” + </p> + <p> + To trace Almo everything was done that could be done. Vocco himself set + out at once for Hippo. He found that Almo had been sold to a Greek + slave-dealer named Olynthides, brother of the well-known dealer at Rome. + He found Olynthides a small man with a club-foot. He said he remembered + the matter, that he had been employed to buy Almo and resell him for cash, + especially to conceal the real purchaser. + </p> + <p> + When Vocco expressed astonishment Olynthides said: + </p> + <p> + “There is nothing to be surprised at, the thing happens every day. It is a + regular feature of slave-trading. There are all sorts of reasons why a man + wants a slave without any past. Such sales are customary and habitual.” + </p> + <p> + When pressed further he retorted: + </p> + <p> + “Of course I did not ask the buyer’s name; equally of course, I did not + take any note of him, it was my business to forget him. I didn’t notice + him when he came into the courtyard, there are always knots of people + coming in all day, looking over the slaves I offer for sale, and going out + again. He came in like anybody else and looked over my stock. When he + spoke to me he had a servant with him carrying a stout leather bag. He + indicated Almo and asked his price. I named it. + </p> + <p> + “‘Cash sale,’ says he; ‘no papers except a bare sale certificate.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘Done,’ says I. + </p> + <p> + “He counted out the cash from his servant’s bag and I gave him the + customary certificate, with a description of Almo and the statement: + </p> + <p> + “‘Sold on this day and date for cash’ and my signature and seal. That was + all there was to it.” + </p> + <p> + When Vocco was persistent, Olynthides averred that he had “heard” that the + purchaser’s name was Jegius and that he came from Cadiz. Vocco could not + discover anyone in Hippo who had ever heard of a slave-dealer named + Jegius. + </p> + <p> + When Vocco returned to Rome with his report Brinnaria set in motion all + the forces of her world which could be utilized under the circumstances. + Aurelius was on the Rhine frontier, but Brinnaria had, by this time, a + close acquaintance with all important court officers and was on terms of + the utmost cordiality with the officials who governed Rome in the + Emperor’s absence. They sympathized with her and put at her disposal all + the machinery of the government secret service. They agreed with her that + the matter must be kept quiet, there must be no proclamations, posters, no + rewards offered by crier or placard, no publishing of descriptions. With + emphatic injunctions of secrecy they sent warnings to every provincial + governor, to every local magistrate, to the aldermen of every free city, + to institute unobtrusive investigations and to keep unostentatious watch. + Brinnaria insisted that these mandates should be sent all over the Empire, + pointing out that no one could conjecture what port of the Mediterranean + or of the Black Sea might be the destination of any nameless trading ship. + But, with special care, full orders were distributed throughout Spain. + </p> + <p> + Towards Spain, likewise, Brinnaria directed the energies of those + organizations of the ancient world which were analogous to our modern + private detective bureaus, and upon Spain she focussed the energies of the + managers of the racing companies. + </p> + <p> + These great corporations were among the most important money-making + enterprises of the Roman world. They maintained luxurious headquarters in + the most congested business districts of the capital. They had offices + adjacent to each of the circuses, they possessed huge congeries of + buildings utilized as stables for their crack racers and barracks for + their charioteers, and provided with spacious courtyards for training + their teams. Outside of Rome they had similar offices and training-stables + in every city and in most towns of any size or wealth. Besides they owned + countless stud-farms, estates and ranches in every province of the Empire + and maintained an army of herdsmen, ostlers and drovers to convoy their + horses by land and whole fleets of ships to transport them by sea. + </p> + <p> + They were joint-stock companies, and while many smaller ones existed in + various parts of the Empire and a few even at Rome, the small concerns + were insignificant and generally ignored. When one spoke of the + racing-companies one meant the six great companies whose central + organizations were domiciled at Rome and whose ramifications penetrated + every district of the Empire. These were known, after the racing-colors of + their jockeys, as the Greens, the Blues, the Reds, the Whites, the + Crimsons and the Golds. The Reds and the Whites were the oldest companies, + the Crimsons and the Golds were companies established in the heyday of the + Empire by coteries of millionaires, the Blues and the Greens were the + largest, the wealthiest and the most popular, especially the Greens. In + the Greens, somewhere, Brinnaria expected to find Almo, as he had been + enthusiastic about the Greens from boyhood. He had been wearing their + leek-green colors the day she had sat in his lap in her father’s + courtyard. He had haunted their training-stables during his brief sojourn + at Rome before Aurelius sent him to Africa, he had inherited a big block + of stock in the Greens. In the Greens, likewise, Brinnaria owned stock; + and, having entered into inheritances from more than seventy different + wealthy relatives who had died during the pestilence, she happened to own + stock in every one of the six great companies. She had personal friends + among the directors of each of the six. Therefore it was especially easy + for her to enlist their help in her efforts to find Almo. It would have + been easy, anyhow, since to be able to oblige a Vestal was a refreshing + novelty for almost anyone at Rome and to find a Vestal seeking one’s + influence and one’s help, equally novel and refreshing; generally the shoe + was on the other foot—most persons in public life in Rome were used + to attempting to enlist the help and the interests of the Vestals for + their purposes and were generally utterly at a loss for any means of + requital, if the interest of a Vestal was enlisted and her help obtained. + </p> + <p> + Consequently all that the racing-companies could do to find Almo was done + as well as all that could be done by the private detective agencies and by + government officials. + </p> + <p> + All that was done was utterly in vain. No trace of Almo could be + discovered after he had sailed from Hippo with Jegius. No slave-dealer + named Jegius could be found nor anyone who knew such a slave-dealer. No + clue, no ghost of a clue came to light. The Greens, like the other + companies, could find among their charioteers, their jockeys, their free + employees, their slaves, no individual in the least answering to + descriptions of Almo. All governmental efforts, all professional efforts, + all private efforts, all Vocco’s efforts, all Brinnaria’s efforts, were + completely baffled. + </p> + <p> + Almo had completely vanished. + </p> + <p> + When Aurelius, passing through Rome on his way from the Rhine frontier to + Syria, was in his capital for a brief period, Brinnaria had an audience + with him. + </p> + <p> + “Daughter!” he said, “it is all my fault. I should have given Grittonius + explicit injunctions about the boy. But the assaults of the Marcomanni + were particularly furious just at that time; I was feverishly hurrying + from point to point along the frontier; I accepted the resignation of + Pennasius; by letter. I appointed Grittonius by letter; I assumed that + Grittonius would have sense; I assumed that Pennasius would impart to him + his secret instructions. I erred by inadvertence; I should have set a + special watch on the boy. But I never thought of it. He was doing so well + and he seemed so interested in his work. He was wonderfully fitted for + frontier duty along the desert. I was watching him with keen interest; + each report of him gave me greater pleasure. I do not hesitate to tell you + that I had him in my mind’s eye to command this very expedition which I + must now command myself, as there is no other man in the Empire fit to + take charge of it. + </p> + <p> + “Is it not a shame that a man whom the Empire needs, who had before him so + splendid an opportunity, who was fitting himself for so brilliant a + career, should throw it all away from mere perversity? Yet I am not + wrathful against him; I see many reasons for sympathizing with him. + </p> + <p> + “Rigid and unflinching celibacy affects different individuals very + differently. Some it does not affect at all, apparently. It does not seem + to affect you. You are as plump and rosy, as healthy and alert, as happy + and normal a young woman, to all appearance, as could be found among + matrons of your age in all the Empire. Celibacy seems to agree with you. + </p> + <p> + “Manifestly it did not agree with Almo. It got on his nerves somehow. That + is the most probable explanation of his eccentric vagary. Don’t be + discouraged. He’ll turn up somewhere, after a while, safe and sound and + none the worse for his experiences.” + </p> + <p> + Brinnaria, in fact, was not discouraged. She resolutely and unweariedly + prosecuted her efforts to find Almo. Nor was she despondent. She scouted + the suggestion that he might be dead. She kept up her spirits, did not + mope or brood and never lost her hearty appetite. She was the life of the + dinners she attended and as talkative and witty as ever. + </p> + <p> + But the strain affected her greatly. She was outwardly controlled, + statuesque and dignified, but the inward turmoil of emotion that surged + through her manifested itself in an unremitting activity. She slept well + and soundly, but rose early and kept on the go. Besides her duties, her + music and her participation in social gatherings, she must needs find + other outlets for her energy, other means to pass her time and distract + her thoughts. + </p> + <p> + In the course of her dealings with the racing companies she became + interested in them not merely as means towards locating Almo, but for + themselves. She became particularly interested in their stables, their + jockeys and their horses. There was no bar of religious tradition or of + social custom which hindered a Vestal from freely mingling with men + visibly in the open daylight in public. Visiting the stables of the racing + companies had long been a fad with Rome’s social leaders, men and women + alike. Brinnaria availed herself of her freedom in this regard and + followed her inclination. She haunted the training-stables of all six + corporations, but mostly of the Greens, always in company with Manlia, or + Flexinna, or Nemestronia or some other of her women friends; she visited + the barracks almost daily, chatted with the charioteers, grooms and + ostlers, watched the exercising of the teams, inspected the stalls, conned + the racers. + </p> + <p> + She made herself an excellent judge of a jockey and a better judge of a + horse. + </p> + <p> + She interested herself in the methods by which the companies obtained and + selected their animals. She became an adept on the entire subject of + horse-raising. It engrossed her thoughts. + </p> + <p> + Then she herself took over the management of several of her estates in the + environs of Rome; of all, in fact, which were near enough for her to visit + personally. She redistributed the force of slaves that managed them, sold + some, bought others and fitted up the properties as stud-farms. Herself + she selected the brood mares and stallions with which to stock these + estates. She herself laid down the principles guiding their management and + she herself dictated the methods of breeding them. She herself + superintended the carrying out of her orders, visiting each estate + frequently and inspecting everything carefully and intelligently. + </p> + <p> + Her first offering of two-year-olds sold at good prices. She was + encouraged, felt herself completely an adept, and would take no one’s word + about anything relating to horses, relying solely on her own judgment. + </p> + <p> + All this would have subjected her to much reprehension had Faltonius + Bambilio survived. But he had died just about the time of Almo’s + disappearance. His son, also named Faltonius Bambilio, had taken up a + political rather than a priestly life and was not to be thought of as his + successor. In his place Aurelius, on his way to Syria, had nominated + Lutorius Rusco, a man who impressed everyone at first sight, and more and + more the better anyone knew him, as the paragon of a Pontifex. He was not + lacking in ecclesiastical unction, but did not wallow in it as had + Bambilio. He was pious, but did not think it necessary to advertise it day + and night unremittingly. He was not lax in religious matters, but he was + no stickler for minute trifles. He inspired confidence by every + characteristic of his appearance and behavior. He was a man somewhat over + medium height, well built, neither heavy nor large, with an unusually + dignified bearing and carriage, not a hint of self-assertion and with a + genially comprehending smile. It was impossible not to confide in him and + unthinkable that confiding in him should ever be regretted. Brinnaria + confided in him and never regretted it. + </p> + <p> + Of Almo’s disappearance she talked to him freely; freely also she talked + of her feelings for Almo. He was as sympathetic and comprehending as the + Emperor and Empress and he encouraged her to hope that Almo was yet alive, + which she sometimes doubted. + </p> + <p> + Of her stock farms he said to her: + </p> + <p> + “I should certainly not have advised any woman to enter upon such an + enterprise, least of all a Vestal. I know of no other member of our + hierarchy who has any similar interests, except Calvaster, whose haunting + of the gladiatorial schools and association with trainers of gladiators + has given some scandal. Some people would call your horse-breeding + unseemly for a Vestal. But I see no harm in it. I have talked with + Causidiena and it is clear that you do not neglect or skimp your duties, + that you give them full time and close attention. Your leisure is your own + to do with as you please. And your immediate success appears an evidence + that, to say the least, your undertakings give no offence to the gods.” + </p> + <p> + During the latter months of Bambilio’s oversight Brinnaria had felt + restive and as if some inward force was forever driving her to feverish + activities; under the care of Lutorius she became placid and thought less + of her stock-raising, journeys to and fro to her estates, talks with + grooms and such like activitie and devoted herself with more cool ardor to + her duties. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0014" id="link2HCH0014"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIV - AMAZEMENT + </h2> + <p> + AURELIUS returned from Syria with his victorious army in the nine hundred + and twenty-ninth year of Rome, 176 of our era, ten years after the great + pestilence. He had merely crushed a local rebellion, but a vast coalition + of nomadic Arab tribes of the desert had been allied with the rebels, and + to the Romans it seemed that their Emperor had won a great victory in a + mighty campaign. Aurelius humored their mood, and with good judgment, for + they needed all the encouragement possible. He arranged to have his return + celebrated by shows of all kinds, theatrical performances, fights of + gladiators, beast fights, horse-races uncountable and above all, by that + thrilling procession of a victor and his armed soldiers through the city + along the Sacred Street, up to the great temple on the Capitol, which was + the highest honor an army and a commander could receive at the hands of + the Roman government, which signalized a notable victory over notable + odds, which was called a triumph. Of triumphs Rome had seen fewer than + three hundred in more than nine hundred years. Not one of the three + hundred had been as magnificent as the triumph of Aurelius. + </p> + <p> + Its auxiliary spectacles were similarly magnificent. In particular the + gladiatorial shows surpassed anything within the memory of the oldest + living spectator. + </p> + <p> + Causidiena, whose eyes troubled her greatly, found that watching the + triumphal procession caused her so much pain that she absented herself + from the remaining shows. To all of these, races, beast-fights and combats + of gladiators, she insisted that the other five Vestals should go + together. The arrangement was unusual, but no one could object, for no one + would hint or even think that the sacred fire would be in any danger of + going out with such a Chief Vestal as Causidiena caring for it or that she + needed any other Vestal to assist her. Likewise her five colleagues were + genuinely pleased that not one of them would miss any part of the shows. + </p> + <p> + As the number was odd, Causidiena decreed that they should be conveyed to + the spectacles each in her own state coach, attended by her maid of honor. + The maids, of course, did not sit with the Vestals, but had seats far back + with the populace. + </p> + <p> + In their luxurious private box in the Colosseum the five Vestals sat in + the ample front row arm-chairs. They were seated not according to + seniority, but Numisia in the middle, Meffia and Brinnaria, as the + youngest, on either side of her, Gargilia next Meffia, and Manlia next + Brinnaria. + </p> + <p> + In the Imperial loge near them Aurelius, now for more than a year a + widower, presided over the games, clad in his gorgeous silk robes and + attended by his fifteen-year-old son Antoninus, afterward known by his + nickname of “Commodus.” The four tiers of the Colosseum were packed with + spectators, pontiffs, senators, nobles, ambassadors magistrates and other + notables in the front seats along the coping of the arena wall, lesser + notables in the first tier, well-to-do persons in the second tier, traders + and manufacturers and such like in the third tier and the commonalty in + the fourth. + </p> + <p> + Besides the ninety thousand seated spectators* many thousand more stood in + the galleries, in the openings of the stairways, in any place where a + foothold could be found and from which a view could be obtained. The + outlook from the Vestals’ box was across the level sand to the gigantic + curve of seats, all hidden under their occupants, so that the interior of + the Amphitheatre was a vast expanse of flower-crowned heads, eager faces + and waving fans. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *The author forgets himself. Earlier in the book he + describes an audience of 100,000 as Brinnaria tells the + emperor how she felt down on the sand in her shift, with + “two hundred thousand eyes” (implying one hundred thousand + people) staring at her. In fact, the Colosseum could handle + an audience of about 45 to 50 thousand.—GB ed. +</pre> + <p> + During that second day of gladiatorial fighting Manlia had several times + said to Brinnaria: + </p> + <p> + “Is there anything wrong? Are you ill? You do not seem yourself!” Each + time Brinnaria had positively denied that anything was wrong and had + asserted that she was entirely herself. + </p> + <p> + About the middle of the afternoon, the arena was filled with pairs of + gladiators, all the couples fighting simultaneously. Each pair had with it + a trainer, called a lanista, who watched, guided or checked the fighting. + </p> + <p> + The contending pairs were of a kind much liked by the Romans, because of + the excitement they afforded, each pair consisting of a light-built, + light-armed, nimble expert pitted against a heavily built, heavily armed + ruffian, the two supposed to be equally matched, the strength and weapons + of the one fully balanced by the skill and agility of the other. + </p> + <p> + Viewing fights of this kind Manlia felt rather than heard or saw a change + in Brinnaria next her, felt her stiffen and grow silent, rigid and tense. + Manlia glanced at her, followed her gaze and became interested in the + fight Brinnaria was watching. Before them, not immediately below them, but + some distance out in the arena, fought a conspicuous pair of gladiators. + One was a great hulking full-armored brute of a Goth, helmeted and + corseleted, kilted in bronze-plated leather straps, booted, as it were, + with ample shin-guards of thick hide, bronze-plated like the straps of his + flapping kilt. He carried a big oval shield and threatened with a long + straight sword his adversary, a Roman in every outline, a slender young + man, barefoot, bare-legged, kilted with the scantiest form of gladiator’s + body-piece and apron, clad in a green tunic and carrying only the small + round shield and short sabre of a Thracian. He wore a helmet like a skull + cap with a broad nose-guard that amounted to a mask, above which were + small openings for his eyes. + </p> + <p> + Conning this pair Manlia’s attention was riveted by the slighter man. He + was very light on his feet, jaunty of bearing and, as it were, ablaze with + self-confidence. + </p> + <p> + Manlia, who was an expert judge of sword-fighting, perceived at once that + he was a master of his art. His method for the moment was to hold back, + lead his opponent on and bide his time. His attitudes and movements + bespoke the most perfect knowledge of sword play in all its finest + details. But what most held Manlia’s attention was his beauty of form and + a strange something about him, a long-armed, long-legged appearance. She + turned to Brinnaria. + </p> + <p> + “I should have sworn,” she said, “that there was not in all the world + another man like Segontius Almo. But that Thracian is a duplicate of him, + as like him as if he were his twin brother.” + </p> + <p> + “More like him than a twin brother,” Brinnaria replied, her voice muffled + and choked. “I’ve been watching him ever since he came in. I recognized + him in the procession this morning. That is Almo.” + </p> + <p> + “Almo!” breathed Manlia, in a horrified whisper. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Almo!” hissed Brinnaria. + </p> + <p> + “What shall we do?” quavered Manlia. + </p> + <p> + “Do?” snorted Brinnaria, “do nothing.” + </p> + <p> + “But we can pray,” Manlia panted. “We can pray. Surely you are praying, + Brinnaria?” + </p> + <p> + “I am praying,” came the answer, in a viperish whisper. “I’m praying he + may be killed.” + </p> + <p> + “Killed!” Manlia gasped. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, killed,” repeated Brinnaria, viciously. “Killing is what he + deserves, mere killing is too good for him. If he wanted to commit suicide + why couldn’t he do it decently at once and privately without all this + elaborate machinery of selling himself as a slave, and lying about his + intentions and disgracing himself by becoming a prize-fighter and exposing + himself to getting killed in public? Why couldn’t he get killed at Treves + or Lyons or Aquileia? Why must he humiliate me by this exhibition of + himself before me and all Rome? The quicker he is killed the better. I’m + praying he’ll be killed at once.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Brinnaria!” groaned the horrified Manlia. + </p> + <p> + The Thracian was not killed in that first fight; he was never in any + danger of being killed. He played with his man as a cat plays with a + mouse; held him off without an effort, caught the attention of all the + nearby spectators; won their interest by the perfection of his sword-play; + and aroused their enthusiasm by that nameles quality which marks off, from + even the best drilled talent, the man who is a born genius in his line. + </p> + <p> + He pinked his victim between corselet and helmet, so lightly that only + those spectators watching most closely saw the lunge, so effectually that + the man died almost as he fell. + </p> + <p> + “You must have prayed for him to win; I did,” spoke Manlia. + </p> + <p> + “I didn’t,” Brinnaria snapped. “I prayed for him to be killed. I wish he + had been. I’m not the only one who has recognized him. Aurelius has and he + has told Antoninus; I watched him.” + </p> + <p> + “How could you?” Manlia exclaimed. “How could you watch anything but + Almo?” + </p> + <p> + “I could and I did,” Brinnaria asseverated. “I’m looking all ways at once, + just now. The news is all over the Imperial loge already. They are looking + at me as well as at him. I hope he’ll be killed this next bout.” The + lanista, in fact, at once matched Almo with another full-armed giant. + Again Almo gave an exhibition of perfect swordsmanship. The Romans were as + quick to appreciate form in fighting as we moderns are to applaud our best + bail players; they recognized pre-eminence in the swordman’s art, as we + acclaim the skill of a crack baseball pitcher or cricket bowler. + </p> + <p> + Almo caught the eye of spectator after spectator, till most of the + audience on that side of the arena were watching the fight in which he + took part to the exclusion of everything else that was going on. He + displayed that perfect balance of all the mental and physical faculties, + that instantaneous co-ordination of eye, brain and muscle, which only an + occasional phenomenon can attain to. He made no mistakes, bore himself + like a dancer on a tight-rope, circled about his adversary, warded off all + his thrusts, lunges and rushes, turned aside his long sword with his small + round shield without a trace of effort, and at his leisure found a joint + in his body armor and pierced his heart with an ostentatiously difficult + lunge delivered with the acme of apparent ease. + </p> + <p> + “There,” sighed Manlia, “I prayed hard.” + </p> + <p> + “So did I,” Brinnaria murmured, “but I prayed the other way. He ought to + have been killed already. Numisia has recognized him and he has been + recognized by three or four nobles along the coping. The rumor is + spreading from each of them and running through the audience.” Manlia, in + fact, looking about was aware of an unusual stir among the spectators, of + notes being handed along and read, of whisperings, callings, signs, + pointings; of messengers worming their way from row to row and from tier + to tier. + </p> + <p> + Almo won his third bout. While it was in progress Manlia had seen one of + the Emperor’s orderlies enter the arena from one of the small doors in the + wall and confer with the chief lanista, who directed the fighting. + </p> + <p> + By the time Almo began a fourth bout half the audience was looking at him + or at Brinnaria. There were thousands present who had survived the + pestilence, who had been present fifteen years before when she had let + herself down into the arena and had rescued the retiarius. They remembered + her spectacular interference and were curious as to how she would now + comport herself. Brinnaria, erect and calm, fanned herself placidly. + </p> + <p> + Almo won his fourth bout. + </p> + <p> + By this time the arrangements of the lanistas had been so far modified + that, instead of a great throng of fighters, there were, in the whole + immense arena, not more than twenty pairs. + </p> + <p> + With scarcely a breathing space Almo was pitted against a fifth adversary. + By the time he had disposed of him the entire audience, fully a hundred + thousand souls, were as well aware of what was going on as was Brinnaria + herself. She was pale, but entirely collected. To Manlia she whispered + venomously: + </p> + <p> + “Castor be thanked, he is certain to be killed, Aurelius has attended to + that.” In fact the Roman sense of fair play was offended when the lanista + gave Almo a mere moment of rest and then set against him a sixth + antagonist. Murmurs ran from tier to tier, there were hoots and cat-calls. + </p> + <p> + Aurelius put up his hand and the people became still. + </p> + <p> + It was not often that the entire throng in the Colosseum focussed its + attention on anyone fighter. That happened now. The dozen or more other + pairs of fighters were ignored, all eyes were on Almo and his opponent—all + eyes that did not stray towards Brinnaria. + </p> + <p> + Almo was not showing any signs of weariness, but he was plainly husbanding + his strength. The sixth bout was tame—seldom had the Amphitheatre + displayed so mild a set to. The heavy-armed man had seen Almo dispose of + five like himself, he was timid; Almo was not timid, but he was cautious. + The result was a tedious exhibition of fencing for position, each sword + monotonously caught on the other shield. At the end Almo slashed his + opponent’s wrist, feinted, pretended to be unable to avoid a clumsy + thrust, slipped inside the big man’s guard and drove his sabre deep under + his arm-pit. + </p> + <p> + The Colosseum rang with cheers. + </p> + <p> + Without so much as a sponging down or a mouthful of wine Almo was faced by + a seventh fresh swordsman in complete armor. This time there were no + caterwaulings or groans. Even the upper gallery had recognized Almo or + been told who he was, even the populace had remembered or had been + informed of the relation between Almo and Brinnaria. Everybody had + recalled or been reminded of her rescue of the retiarius. + </p> + <p> + The audience collectively comprehended that Aurelius meant Almo to be + defeated and put at an adversary’s mercy before Brinnaria, that he was + testing her. + </p> + <p> + The habitual hubbub, hum, and buzz of undertones was checked to a very + unusual degree, the Amphitheatre became almost still. + </p> + <p> + But when Almo fairly duplicated his first bout and neatly, almost without + effort, cut his victim’s throat, the audience cheered him vociferously. + </p> + <p> + Louder, if possible did they acclaim his calm and adequate strategy + against his eighth antagonist. + </p> + <p> + A ninth and a tenth were promptly put beyond power to hurt him by wounds + ingeniously disabling, but far from deadly. + </p> + <p> + The eleventh bout was more tedious than the sixth. + </p> + <p> + Almo divined some greater strength or skill in this adversary and played + him warily. When the audience was bored to the point of being almost ready + to call for something diverting Almo slaughtered his man with a terrible + wound between his corselet and kilt. + </p> + <p> + The twelfth, thirteenth and fourteenth antagonists Almo plainly despised. + He stood almost still, hardly altering the position of his feet except to + turn as the huge barbarians circled ponderously about him. Each he brought + down with his first lunge. + </p> + <p> + As the fifteenth bout began the audience was manifestly impatient and + restive. But they were not bored. That one Thracian, almost without rest, + should successively dispose of fourteen antagonists, in the fullest armor, + was a notable feat. The perfect form of Almo’s fighting was even more + notable. At each victory the audience cheered him till they were hoarse. + They seemed to cheer quite spontaneously and to need the relief for their + feelings. But also they seemed to mean to give him as long a rest as was + in their power. They were all for him. + </p> + <p> + But no man could go on fighting continually without fatigue. In his + fifteenth bout Almo moved heavily. + </p> + <p> + The other man was unusually quick for a big man. He handled his big sword + deftly. After much sparring he was too quick for Almo, and the point of + his slender blade scratched Almo’s splay vizor, nicked his chin, and tore + a long shallow slash in the skin of his right breast. + </p> + <p> + Blood welling through it stained the green of Almo’s tunic; blood dropping + from his chin spotted the bright green. + </p> + <p> + The populace groaned. + </p> + <p> + Manlia prayed. + </p> + <p> + Brinnaria, under scrutiny of two hundred thousand eyes, sat erect, fanned + herself steadily, and gazed straight before her. To all appearance she was + as indifferent to Almo as if he did not exist. + </p> + <p> + After that Alma moved like a sleep-walker or a man in a dream, dully and + dazedly. + </p> + <p> + The big man feinted and lunged cleverly. The point of his weapon ripped + Alma’s thigh on the outside above the knee. No man could stand up after + such a wound. He went down, his shield under him. + </p> + <p> + From all around the arena, from every tier, automatically, thousands of + arms shot out, thumb flat. Instantly every arm whipped back and was hidden + under its owner’s robe. All realized that expression of sympathy was not + their business. A hush fell. Everybody looked at the Emperor and at + Brinnaria. + </p> + <p> + Brinnaria sat erect in her arm-chair, fanning herself evenly, staring + straight across the arena. The same instinct, the same curiosity which + actuated the rest of the audience, restrained the Vestals from giving the + sign of mercy. All felt that the matter concerned only Aurelius and + Brinnaria, that for anyone else to interfere would be flouting the + Emperor. + </p> + <p> + Brinnaria, white as a corpse, dizzy and numb, kept up the unvarying motion + of her fan. Otherwise she was perfectly still. + </p> + <p> + The victor rolled his eyes along the rows of spectators. He got no inkling + of their feelings. + </p> + <p> + He gazed at the Vestals. The audience saw him gaze that way. Brinnaria + ignored him. Almo and all the world. + </p> + <p> + The victor looked toward the Emperor. + </p> + <p> + Aurelius held out his right hand, thumb out. + </p> + <p> + The lanista removed Almo’s helmet. If anyone had doubted his identity the + doubt was dispelled among all near enough to make out his face. + </p> + <p> + The victor put one foot on Almo’s chest. Almo stretched his neck. + </p> + <p> + Brinnaria sat there, tense, pale, but as collected as if she had no + interest in what was going on. + </p> + <p> + The savage standing over Alma glanced a second time towards the Emperor. + </p> + <p> + Aurelius was holding his arm at full stretch over the coping, thumb flat + against the extended fingers. + </p> + <p> + Brinnaria knew that she had won, that Aurelius had put her to the test + before all Rome, that she had stood the test, that all Rome was witness. + Her fingers clutched the handle of her fan. She could hardly feel it in + her grasp. + </p> + <p> + The big man took his foot from Almo’s chest. + </p> + <p> + The audience broke into howls of applause, gust after gust of cheers, + roaring like a storm wind in a forest. + </p> + <p> + Brinnaria saw the arena, saw the spectators, through a film of mist, + through a gray veil, through a fog of blackness. She realized that, for + the first time in her life, she was on the verge of fainting. Mechanically + she looked about her. Her glance fell on Meffia crumpled in her arm-chair. + </p> + <p> + That steadied her. If Meffia had fainted, she would not, she would not. + </p> + <p> + She did not faint. She fanned herself steadily as she watched the lanistas + help Almo to hobble from the arena. When he was gone her attention + returned to Meffia. Gargilia and Numisia were trying to rouse her. + </p> + <p> + She remained crumpled, she collapsed, she slid off her chair to the floor + of the box. She lay in a horrid heap unmistakable in its limpness. The + excitement had been too much for Meffia. She was stone dead. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0021" id="link2H_4_0021"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + BOOK III—THE REBELLION OF DESPERATION + </h2> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0015" id="link2HCH0015"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XV - REHABILITATION + </h2> + <p> + THE death of a Vestal, except from old age, was always regarded by the + Roman populace as a sign of the gods’ disfavor. The death of a young + Vestal, sudden, unexpected and unexplained, could not but cause great + uneasiness throughout all classes of the population. + </p> + <p> + Moreover, gladiatorial exhibitions were part of the Roman public worship, + which largely proceeded on the naive assumption that the gods liked just + about what men liked and that, the best way to please the gods and win + their favor was to delight them with such spectacles as men enjoyed, + acrobatic exhibitions, dramas, beast-fights, fights of beasts with men or + of men with men, chariot-races and similar exciting displays, and so put + the gods in a good humor. This underlying theory of diverting spectacles + as a species of prayer and as the most effective kind of prayer was not so + much definitely expressed by the Romans, as tacitly and unconsciously + assumed. It was, nevertheless, entirely real and all Romans felt every + public show as an act of public worship, as a hallowed function. + </p> + <p> + Most Roman rites were held to be entirely vitiated if a death took place + among the worshippers during the course of the ceremony. To all + solemnities at which only a few persons were present this applied without + qualification and positively. Naturally a death among the crowd about a + temple was held of much less import. + </p> + <p> + Still less could anyone regard a death amid the vast throng in the + Colosseum or the Circus Maximus. So that Meffia’s sudden end was not + necessarily held a certain indication of the wrath of the gods. But, as + the death of one of the most important functionaries present at the + spectacle, it caused much concern. The dismay of the people the pontiffs + tried to alleviate by all the means in their power, by consultation of the + augurs, soothsayers and professional prophets, and by official + consultation of the Sibylline Books. The general anxiety was somewhat + allayed by their placards and proclamations, announcing that Meffia’s + death was wholly due to her personal weakness and was not to be regarded + as a portent, in particular that it in no way indicated the wrath of the + gods or their rejection of the petition for public safety embodied in the + spectacles celebrating the triumph of Aurelius. + </p> + <p> + The Temple and the Atrium of Vesta made up an institution in which death + was entirely disregarded. As no seriously ill Vestal was ever allowed to + remain within the limits of the Atrium, but, as soon as alarming symptoms + appeared, was removed from the Atrium and put in charge of relations or + friends, so also the body of a dead Vestal was always turned over to the + care of her family or connections. Though the Vestals, alone among Romans, + possessed the privilege of being buried inside the walls of Rome, though + their funerals were magnificent public processions, participated in by all + the functionaries of the state and lavishly provided at the public + expense, yet the death itself was held to be a concern of the family of + the dead Vestal, not of her surviving colleagues. The Vestals might mourn + but the Atrium was never in mourning. Its routine went on as if nothing + had happened; no sign of grief was displayed or even permitted; visitors + were received as usual. + </p> + <p> + Among the first visitors to the Atrium on the morning after Almo’s fight + and Meffia’s death was, naturally, Flexinna. + </p> + <p> + At the first word Brinnaria cut her short. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t want to hear his name,” she declared. “I’m done with him forever. + I don’t love him any longer; I don’t care for him, even; I hate him. It + does not concern me whether he recovers or not. I’d rather he wouldn’t + recover. The best thing for both of us would be for him to die anyhow. I + wish he were dead; I wish one of those heavy men had killed him.” + </p> + <p> + “B-B-Brinnaria!” Flexinna remonstrated, “you t-t-talk like a raving + maniac! You look like a F-F-Fury!” + </p> + <p> + “I’m furious enough!” Brinnaria snarled, “and I’ve plenty of good cause + for being angry. Was ever woman on earth put in a position so invidious, + so embarrassing? Everybody knew of my rescue of the retiarius, thousands + had seen me rescue him. Everybody knew of my involvement with Almo before + I was taken for a Vestal, of our love for each other, of my expressed + intention to marry him at the end of my service. Everybody recognized + Almo. + </p> + <p> + “And there I was with the one man on earth in the jaws of death before my + eyes and I with the power to save him if I chose and a hundred thousand + people watching me to see what I would do. And because I had once before + rescued a man in that same situation everybody expected me to do something + unusual and spectacular to save Almo. + </p> + <p> + “If it had been any other man it would have been the most natural thing in + the world for me to give the signal for mercy and nobody would have + thought anything of it. But, because the man before me was the man I had + expressed my intention of marrying at the end of my service, therefore, if + I had tried to save him, that would be taken as a confession of my being + actuated by the sort of interest which no Vestal has a right to feel for + any man. + </p> + <p> + “A delightful situation to be placed in! + </p> + <p> + “And he must needs go out of his way to put me in that position! When all + he had to do was to live the normal life of a Roman gentleman and all + things would in time come right for both of us, he must needs strain the + powers of human ingenuity, compel the forces of time and space, of wind + and wave to conspire to produce that situation and make me suffer those + unnecessary agonies! + </p> + <p> + “Furious! + </p> + <p> + “Of course I’m furious. + </p> + <p> + “Never name him to me!” + </p> + <p> + When Lutorius Rusco, the new Pontifex of Vesta, called on her she was less + explosive, but still fuming. + </p> + <p> + She received him in the large room at the east end of the peristyle of the + Atrium, a sort of parlor which had on either side of it three very small + rooms, the six, used as private offices by the six Vestals. There each had + her writing desk, and the cabinets in which she kept her important papers, + letters and such possessions. + </p> + <p> + After they had exchanged greetings Lutorius motioned towards Brinnaria’s + little sanctum. Brinnaria bridled. + </p> + <p> + “I’ve nothing to say that we cannot say out here,” she advertised, “and I + do not want to hear anything that cannot be said out here.” + </p> + <p> + Lutorius was tactful and had his way. When they were alone, he said: + </p> + <p> + “You were magnificent! You behaved splendidly. You could not have done + better. We are all proud of you, from the Emperor down to the lowest + slumgullion, every single Roman of us. You are certainly the most popular + woman alive and your popularity is now of a sort to last as long as you + live, complete and unqualified. You were popular before, but with + considerable reservations. The hierarchy liked you, but were not sure that + they ought to approve a Vestal who had perpetrated such exploits as yours, + particularly your trouncing poor old Faltonius. The nobility admired you, + but shook their heads over your stock-farming. The populace were + enthusiastic about you, but, like the upper classes, were uneasy because + of your expressed intention to marry at the end of your service and to + marry a specified man, who had been your boyish lover. All classes + acclaimed you as a woman, but nearly everybody was dubious about you as a + Vestal. + </p> + <p> + “Now nobody has any hesitation about feeling that you are all a Vestal + should be, a priestess whose prayers are certain to be heard and + answered.” + </p> + <p> + Brinnaria made a wry face. + </p> + <p> + “My prayers were not heard yesterday,” she sighed. “Almo was not killed. I + was praying hard to have him dead and have it all over with and done with + forever.” + </p> + <p> + Lutorius turned on her a slow, benignant, indulgent smile. + </p> + <p> + “Daughter,” he said, “you must remember that you are not the only Vestal. + Four Vestals were praying that Almo be saved, each praying not only with + her lips but with every fibre of her being. And your heart and soul were + praying silently with them and against the fierce prayers of your lips.” + </p> + <p> + “It is not so,” she denied. “Every fibre of me was praying as my lips + prayed. My prayers were genuine.” + </p> + <p> + “I am sure you thought so,” Lutorius agreed. “It was natural for you to + feel that way. You were very angry. But your anger will wear off.” + </p> + <p> + “My anger may,” Brinnaria admitted, “but never my resentment and my + disgust.” + </p> + <p> + “Only time can prove whether your forecast is correct,” the Pontiff + soothed her, “but are you justified even in being resentful? Ought you not + rather to be thankful that chance or fate or the direct intervention of + the gods working through Almo gave you the precious opportunity to free + yourself from the shadow of an imputation that lay upon you from your + entrance into the order? Rome vaguely suspected you of too warm an + interest in Almo. Much of Rome had seen and all Rome had heard of your + theatrical rescue of a gladiator totally unknown to you. All Rome knew + your impulsive nature. All Rome has now seen you perfectly controlled and + outwardly calm with Almo on the verge of death before your eyes. Everybody + has watched you ignore him and show less interest in his fate than you + once manifested towards a casual savage. Your outward observance of the + conventions under such trying circumstances has abolished any qualms the + people felt because of your many past unconventionalities. This puts you + in a very strong position toward any possible accusation or trial. You + know how earnestly you have talked to me of your dread of such + contingencies. Ought you not, after thinking it over, to forget your anger + against Almo and to feel positively grateful for the opportunity so to + exalt ourself?” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps I ought,” Brinnaria mused. “The value to me of the results I had + not thought of, but admit it now that you expound it. But I am not + grateful. I suffered too much. I am still smarting with indignation. + </p> + <p> + “And, apart from any remains of anger, I ache with the humiliation of it + all. Think of the infamy, of the degradation Almo has brought on himself!” + </p> + <p> + Lutorius pursed his lips. + </p> + <p> + “There is a certain social stigma upon any man who has joined a + prize-fighting gang,” he conceded, “but the obloquy resulting from having + been a gladiator has greatly attenuated amid the loose manners of our day. + Nothing that becomes fashionable remains disgraceful. The social disgrace + of it has greatly lessened as the thing has become more usual, and freemen + who have been gladiators are rather acclaimed and sought after than + condemned and shunned. They win a sort of vogue, if successful fighters. + </p> + <p> + “The treatment of such persons has greatly changed in recent years. Even + since I began to remember there has been an all but universal alteration + in the general attitude towards such cases—they have become too + numerous for the old feelings to survive. Not only Roman citizens have + entered gladiatorial schools, risen high in the profession, fought + countless fights, served out their time as prize-fighters, and returned to + their families, but noblemen have done so, even senators. Vescularius is + as much a senator as if he had not won seventy-eight bouts in three + years.” + </p> + <p> + “I know it,” Brinnaria admitted, “and I have thought over all that. But I + am old-fashioned in my feelings even if I have often been the reverse in + my behavior. I am revolted at the thought of Almo as a professional + cut-throat—I was insulted at the sight of him in the arena. I feel + that by his abasement of himself he has obliterated my love for him. It is + as if he had never existed. I shall not marry him, even if we both outlive + my obligatory term of service. I shall never marry anybody. I shall die a + Vestal.” + </p> + <p> + “You feel that way now, of course,” Lutorius agreed, “but you will get + over it, though you do not think so now.” + </p> + <p> + “I do not believe I shall ever get over it,” Brinnaria declared. “So many + things rankle in my thoughts, the small things even more than what is more + important. I grind my teeth over the mere legal consequences of his having + been a gladiator. He will forfeit half the properties he inherited and he + can never hold any office, civil or military.” + </p> + <p> + “All that,” said Lutorius, “the Emperor will attend to in full. And your + thinking of such trifles shows that you even yet care more for Almo than + you admit to yourself. + </p> + <p> + “You must let me tell you about him. He is in the care of the best + physicians in Rome. They assure me that he will recover, that his face + will show but the merest trace of a scar, no disfigurement whatever, and + that he will walk without the slightest limp. He is comfortable and + convalescing nicely. I am going to bring you news of him daily, whether + you think you want it or not, and you are going to listen to me because I + tell you to.” + </p> + <p> + Brinnaria, for once in her life, was submissive and silent. + </p> + <p> + Not many days later the Pontiff greeted her with a contented smile. + </p> + <p> + “Almo,” he said, “is now practically recovered. He is well enough to have + enjoyed brief visits from several of his former cronies. He is in his + house on the Carinae, and it is besieged by all the fashionables of Rome, + not only his boyhood friends and acquaintances, but people who never spoke + to him. Everybody is rushing to call on him. + </p> + <p> + “He is a free man again. At an intimation of the Emperor’s wishes Elufrius + became as supple as possible and all willingness to oblige. He asked a + huge price for Almo’s release, and no wonder, for after the advertisement + you gave him, Almo could have commanded fabulous fees for all future + fights and the profits accruing to Elufrius must have been enormous. So + Elufrius had to be paid a large sum, but nothing compared to even one + year’s accumulation of revenue from Almo’s estates administered by his + agents. So Almo will never feel that. The papers have all been drawn, + signed and sealed. The cash has been paid. Almo is no longer a member of a + gladiatorial band. + </p> + <p> + “And, at a word from the Emperor, the Senate framed and passed a decree + relieving Almo of all the legal disabilities inhering in his past. He has + been restored to his former rank in the nobility, has been confirmed in + the possession of all inheritances which he might otherwise have + forfeited, has been declared free from all stain and entirely fit to hold + any office in the service of the Republic. The decree has been engrossed, + sealed and signed by the Emperor. Almo is a nobleman as before. Are you + pleased?” + </p> + <p> + “I am,” Brinnaria confessed. + </p> + <p> + Lutorius nodded. + </p> + <p> + “Now, do not take umbrage,” he said, “at what I am about to ask. If you + must say no, say no without being offended. May I tell the Emperor what + you have said to me?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly,” Brinnaria authorized him. “Aurelius is so good a friend to me + that sometimes I think he is the best friend I have on earth.” + </p> + <p> + After an interval of some days the Pontiff hinted that the Emperor desired + to see her. Brinnaria’s disposition to stand upon ceremony and to insist + on her full rights as a Vestal had waned as she grew to maturity. In her + dealing with Aurelius she had long laid it aside altogether and likewise + with Lutorius, both were so unassuming, so manifestly actuated by the + sincerest regard for her. Now she obediently sent in her application for + an audience with the Emperor. + </p> + <p> + It was accorded her about twenty days after Almo’s fight. Aurelius came + straight to the point. + </p> + <p> + “Daughter,” he said, “I want you to tell me the entire truth. You can + confide in me without reservation and you should do so without hesitation, + since I ask it. + </p> + <p> + “What I wish you to tell me is this: Has your lover’s behavior effaced + your regard for him, as you asserted to Lutorius, or were you + self-deceived? Is everything at an end between you and will you ignore his + existence in future and remain a Vestal for life or have your feelings + overcome your displeasure and are you again thinking of him and of your + future as you did in the past?” + </p> + <p> + “Castor be good to me,” Brinnaria confessed. “I did think his folly had + alienated me from him forever, but the more I brood over it all the more I + realize that no matter what he has done or does or will do I love him just + as genuinely as if he deserved it, and as far as I can judge I shall love + him to the last breath I draw. I am ashamed of my weakness, but I foresee + that, when my service is over, I shall be just as eager to marry him as if + he had been all he ought to have been.” + </p> + <p> + “You please me,” said Aurelius, “particularly in the way you put it. + </p> + <p> + “I am not in the habit of giving a second chance to any man. But Almo’s + case is so peculiar and the circumstances so unusual and my interest in + him is so compelling that I am going to make an exception in respect to + him. I shall give him another opportunity as an officer. I have reflected + where to send him and I have concluded to relegate him to Britain. There, + in the north, our frontier, pushed far beyond the former line, is + ceaselessly attacked by the Caledonian savages. My predecessor’s great + earthwork needs larger garrisons. There Almo will find occupation and may + rehabilitate himself. There he will be under the watch of Opstorius, who + is a stern and scrupulous governor. He sets out this very day. + </p> + <p> + “Now is the time for me to speak to you of Calvaster. Calvaster, + unfortunately, is as indispensable as ever, even more so. My impulse was + to banish him, but I had to forego the idea. I contented myself with + summoning him to my presence and telling him in so many words that the + slightest suspicion of any further machinations by him against you or Almo + would draw down on him the unescapable consequences of my severest + displeasure. By that admonition, and by his chagrin at the unexpected and + unwelcome outcome of his plot, I think him sufficiently punished. Also I + think him thoroughly cowed. He will make no further attempt to trouble + you. + </p> + <p> + “It appears that when he was touring Spain, inspecting the copies of the + sacred books at all the chief temples of the five provinces, he recognized + Almo in the arena at Corduba. He at once used all the influence in his + power to arrange that Elufrius should bring his gang of fighters to Rome + and that their bouts should be so managed that Almo would be saved to + fight before you as he did. Almo himself found this out through Elufrius + since he became again a free man and in control of his fortune, and it + took a great deal of money and the participation of a great many experts + to uncover and prove the facts. Proved they have been to my satisfaction + and Calvaster’s confusion. + </p> + <p> + “Almo had expected to serve his three years in Spain and was as dismayed + as possible when he found he was to be transferred to Rome. But an + articled gladiator has taken oath to submit to anything, specifying death, + torture, burning, wounding, flogging and more besides, an articled + gladiator cannot object to fighting anywhere. Almo had to acquiesce. + </p> + <p> + “And now, having heard that it was not wholly his fault that you were so + cruelly tried before all of us, will you not agree to say farewell to him + a second time?” + </p> + <p> + In the flood-tide of her revulsion of feeling Brinnaria could refuse + Aurelius nothing. The Emperor gave a signal and Almo was ushered in as he + had been six years before. + </p> + <p> + Brinnaria’s eager scrutiny could detect no limp in his gait, could barely + descry the scar on his chin, even when she knew so well where to look for + it. She noted that he looked well, vigorous and very handsome in his + gilded armor and scarlet cloak. She contrasted their magnificent + surroundings with the rough frontier to which he was going. + </p> + <p> + Almo tried to speak and choked. + </p> + <p> + “Caius,” she said, “the Emperor has told me how it all came about. Don’t + ask me to forgive; I ask your pardon for misconceiving you; I have nothing + to forgive in you. If you are what I believe you to be I shall never have + to forgive anything from you. Go, and with the help of the blessed gods, + prove yourself all you ought to be. Farewell!” + </p> + <p> + And Almo, as he bowed, managed to say: + </p> + <p> + “Farewell!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0016" id="link2HCH0016"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVI - VAGARY + </h2> + <p> + TERENTIA FLAVOLA, who was taken as a Vestal to fill Meffia’s place, was a + really beautiful girl. + </p> + <p> + Her hair was golden hair in fact, not merely in name; her eyes were an + intense, bright blue; her complexion was exquisite, the delicate texture + and perfect whiteness of her skin emphasized by the healthful coloring + which came and went on her cheeks. Every one of the Vestals fell in love + with her at once, most of all Brinnaria. + </p> + <p> + Besides her good looks Terentia had a charming disposition, a pretty + unconsciousness of herself and a winning deferentialness towards her + elders. The combination made her irresistible. + </p> + <p> + Also she was an interesting child, being amazingly precocious, not as + Brinnaria had been, in growth and behavior, for she was a complete child + in all respects, but in being what moderns call an infant prodigy. Infant + prodigies in ancient times displayed their unusual powers chiefly by + recitations, mostly of poems, which they learned by rote and repeated with + very little understanding of what they rehearsed. More than most of her + kind Terentia comprehended what she declaimed, but she knew by heart many + poems entirely beyond her childish grasp. At barely eight years of age she + was able to reel off without hesitation or effort anyone of an amazingly + long list. With little prompting she could recite some of the longest + narrative poems in Latin literature and she needed prompting only to give + her the cue words at the beginning of each book and of each important + episode. + </p> + <p> + Besides her amazing powers as a reciter she was already proficient in + Greek, talked it easily and knew many poems in that language, which all + educated Romans spoke and which was used more than Latin at Court. + </p> + <p> + But her chief distinction came from her capability as a musician. In music + she was not only an infant prodigy, but very much of a born genius. Her + memory for any composition she heard once was unfailingly accurate; her + rendition of anything she knew was more than perfect, since to perfection + of rendition she added sympathetic interpretation. She was already reputed + the best female performer on the lyre, the most popular instrument in + ancient times. The lyre had an effect something between that of a guitar + and a harp, with some of the characteristics of the modern banjo, zither + and mandolin. + </p> + <p> + Since the lyre was looked upon as frivolous and unsuited to the gravity of + a Vestal, Brinnaria introduced Terentia to the organ. This instrument the + child had heard, but had not learned to play, as organs were expensive in + those days, whereas Terentia’s family, although of the most ancient + nobility, were in very straitened circumstances. + </p> + <p> + To the organ Terentia took with great enthusiasm, and in performing on it + she soon surpassed her teacher. + </p> + <p> + Brinnaria’s playing on the water-organ was similar to the piano music of a + modern girl who has mostly taught herself and who plays largely by ear; + Terentia played it as a born genius in our days plays her piano, with + impeccable exactitude, inimitable individuality and compelling charm. Her + organ recitals were soon a chief feature of the social life in the Atrium, + each thronged by the most fashionable ladies in Rome, who competed for + invitations. Her vogue in no way spoiled Terentia, who played with just as + much zest for her co-inmates of the Atrium, or when she was entirely alone + amusing herself at the organ. Teaching her, playing with her, listening to + her, took up a good deal of Brinnaria’s time and came to be a great solace + and comfort to her. + </p> + <p> + Even more was this abundance of good music a solace and a comfort to + Causidiena, for, like Dossonia, her predecessor, like so many former Chief + Vestals, Causidiena was going blind from some disorder slow, painless and + obscure, altogether baffling to the best medical and surgical skill.* + </p> + <p> + *Clearly cataracts. As a matter of fact they WERE sometimes treated even + this long ago, but the treatments did not meet with much success, and + Causidiena probably would not have cared to take the risk. + </p> + <p> + For much of the ritual of Vesta and much of the participation of the + Vestals in the public worship in general, the presence of the Chief Vestal + was essential. + </p> + <p> + She was the Vestal, the others were only her assistants and in training to + succeed her. But as Causidiena became less and less able to see, all + matters which could be attended to by others devolved more and more upon + Numisia. Among her colleagues Numisia had greatest confidence in + Brinnaria, so that Brinnaria’s duties occupied her insistently. + </p> + <p> + Besides her ritual duties and her music she kept up her interest in + horse-racing; in fact, she became more and more devoted to this pastime, + which Lutorius countenanced, but which her detractors characterized as + indelicate. + </p> + <p> + The success of her venture was notable. She became an important local + dealer in racers. Her colts, sold at well-advertised auctions, were sought + after, were competed for, brought fancy prices, won many races, came to + have a reputation that spread beyond the city, over all Italy, even into + the provinces. Her career as a stock farmer was brilliant, meteoric, + phenomenal. + </p> + <p> + Between her duties, her music and her horse-breeding Brinnaria’s mind was + pretty well occupied. She had no time to brood and passed six contented + and almost happy years. + </p> + <p> + She had reason for happiness in the fact that reports from Almo were + uniformly good. To Flexinna he wrote at intervals and his letters reached + their destination without much irregularity. In those days communication + with Britain was by no means so easy as with Africa. Gaul was a country + well Romanized and very populous, busy and prosperous. All across it were + good roads, excellent bridges and frequent post houses. But between Italy + and Gaul were the Alps, where the winter snows blocked the roads for + months at a time and where avalanches and floods suspended traffic at + unpredictable intervals at all times of the year. The only sure road + uniting Italy and Gaul was not through the Alps but past them along the + sea-coast, and that was roundabout. + </p> + <p> + At the other end of Gaul the sea interposed a barrier which the Romans + found annoying. In the state of seamanship in those ages a head-wind was + an insuperable obstacle. As long as the wind blew the wrong way there was + nothing to do but wait for the wind to change. High winds made navigation + altogether impossible. Between storms and head-winds, on more than half + the days in the year attempting the passage of the channel was not to be + thought of. Moreover, bitter experience had taught the Romans that the + weather-signs of the Mediterranean were not to be relied on when one dealt + with Atlantic weather conditions. In particular they found that a clear + sky, a light breeze, warm air and a calm sea in the morning not + infrequently heralded a terrible storm before dusk. + </p> + <p> + Consequently their attempts to cross from Gaul to Britain or from Britain + to Gaul were restricted to occasions when, at and after sunset, the sky + was clear, the sea calm and the wind favorable. Only under those + circumstances could they be reasonably sure of the conditions remaining + unaltered until the transit was accomplished. In practice about sixty-five + nights in a year promised well for traffic. With sea transit so + restricted, communication with Britain was infrequent, and news of Almo + irregular. + </p> + <p> + Besides his letters to Flexinna he wrote occasionally to Vocco. Vocco also + had hopes of hearing from some of his comrades in arms. But as Valentia + was a place of semi-exile for incompetent, illiterate, drunken and + reckless officers, small reliance could be placed on any such channel of + news. + </p> + <p> + Therefore, with Brinnaria’s knowledge and at her expense, Vocco had + arranged to have an unremitting watch kept on Almo by skillful hirelings + of the Imperial information department. These men sent messages whenever + it was possible, and their reports were consistently favorable. + </p> + <p> + The frontier of Caledonia offered no such opportunities for distinction + and promotion as the outskirts of the Sahara had afforded. Military duty + from the Forth to the Clyde was monotonous and wearisome. But, considering + his environment, Almo did very well. He was liked by his companions, loved + by his subordinates and worshipped by his men. What there was to do he did + capably, and in his leisure, among comrades who guzzled wine and gambled + like madmen, he was always sober and never abused the dice, which were an + inevitable social feature of all Roman outpost existence. + </p> + <p> + Aurelius spent the last four years of his life along the headwaters of the + Danube and Rhine, where the rising tide of Germanic migrations beat + incessantly at the outworks of the Empire. His death at Vienna occurred + when Brinnaria was twenty-nine years old and had been nineteen years a + Vestal. He was succeeded by his son Antoninus, whose obliging disposition + and easy-going manners made him exceedingly popular with his cronies, the + young fops, dandies and sports of Roman society, and led to his being + known among them as “the good fellow,” which nickname of “Commodus” soon + supplanted his given names and official titles, on the lips first of the + Romans, then of the Italians, soon of all his subjects everywhere. + </p> + <p> + Commodus was not in Rome when his father died and it was therefore not + possible for Brinnaria to have an audience with him. She dreaded that a + change of governors in Britain might work unfavorably for Almo. + </p> + <p> + In consultation with Vocco she did what she could, through the city + Prefect in charge of Rome during the Emperor’s absence, and through other + officials, to make sure that any new governor of Britain would be fully + informed of the secret instructions which Aurelius had given Opstorius + concerning Almo. She also did all that was possible to have Commodus + reminded of the matter. This was difficult at a distance and a delicate + undertaking at any time and in any place, no Emperor ever relishing the + assumption that he need be reminded of anything, while the necessity for + emphasis and secrecy at one and the same time taxed the best ingenuity. + With the great influence possessed by the Vestals, they hoped that they + had succeeded. + </p> + <p> + But when Commodus had been Emperor a little over a year, Brinnaria, as she + descended from her carriage at Vocco’s door, felt a thrill of vague + foreboding. On entering the house her premonition of something wrong + intensified. At first sight Flexinna’s face confirmed her suspicions. + However, she asked no questions and worked off her feelings by a series of + high dives, followed by fancy-stroke swimming under water. She came up + from her tenth plunge sufficiently exhausted to feel to some extent + soothed. + </p> + <p> + As they composed themselves on the dining-sofas Vocco and Flexinna + exchanged glances. Brinnaria did not wait for either to speak. + </p> + <p> + “I am afraid,” she said, “that my appetite is not as reliable as it was + ten years ago. I think we had best eat our dinner first and discuss our + bad news afterwards.” Vocco and Flexinna looked distinctly relieved. + </p> + <p> + Brinnaria’s appetite seemed excellent. She ate abundantly, and, after the + dinner tray was removed and the dessert tray brought in, she relished a + half a dozen of her favorite purple figs. Savoring her glass of Vocco’s + exquisite Setian wine she asked: + </p> + <p> + “What has gone wrong, Quintus?” + </p> + <p> + “Just precisely what we feared has happened,” Vocco replied. “In spite of + all our efforts Hostidius appears to have known nothing whatever about + Almo’s peculiar past or of the special instructions Aurelius gave + Opstorius. + </p> + <p> + “Almo has practically repeated the vagary he perpetrated at Hippo. He + induced Hostidius to give him a full, honorable discharge from the army + and later wheedled the governor into authorizing him to have himself sold + as a slave.” + </p> + <p> + “What maggot can he have in his brain,” Brinnaria burst in, “that he is so + fascinated with the idea of being sold as a slave? What earthly basis can + there be for the enticement it holds out to him? Being sold as a slave is + universally regarded as the worst fate that can befall a man in life. What + makes the prospect of life as a slave so alluring to him?” + </p> + <p> + “Flexinna and I have been debating that point,” said Vocco, “but we cannot + so much as think up a conjecture. + </p> + <p> + “As to the facts there can be no doubt. He was publicly sold in the + marketplace of Eboracum.” + </p> + <p> + “At least,” Brinnaria breathed, “we have not lost track of him this time.” + </p> + <p> + “We have not,” Vocco answered, “and I’ll wager we shall not.” + </p> + <p> + “Is it prize-fighting again?” Brinnaria queried, “or is it really + charioteering this time?” + </p> + <p> + “Neither,” said Vocco. “I must say it sounds like lunacy. But all Almo’s + words and all the small details of his behavior show no signs of + derangement. Up to the last report he slept well, ate well, looked well, + talked sensibly, in respect to all minor matters acted like a rational + being, and seemed to thrive. But what he did in the large sense appears + incredible. + </p> + <p> + “He had himself advertised for sale as an expert farm overseer, was bought + by a prosperous proprietor whose properties are situated in the + southwestern part of Britain and there, near Ischalis, he has settled down + to the management of a large estate; large at least for that part of the + world. He was giving excellent satisfaction in his dealings with the + slaves and by his knowledge of budding, grafting, transplanting and of all + the mysteries of gardening, orchard lore, and of agriculture in general.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” Brinnaria reflected, “he was keen on all that sort of thing while + he was at the villa near Falerii. Such knowledge, gained in boyhood, sinks + in deep and is never forgotten. He is not playing a part or pretending; he + is really enjoying farm life. But what kink in his head makes him fancy + that he prefers to enjoy it as a slave rather than as a free man? That + puzzles me. Why be sold as a slave in order to bask in rural delights when + he could buy the ten largest estates in Britain and never feel the outlay? + When after his honorable discharge from the army he was at liberty to + remain in Britain openly and to do as he liked? Can you see through it?” + </p> + <p> + Flexinna and Vocco agreed that they saw no glimmer of light. + </p> + <p> + “At least,” Brinnaria summed up, “he is in Britain and we can arrange to + prevent his leaving the island. Certainly we can have him watched, + wherever he goes.” + </p> + <p> + Vocco at once set about making the arrangements to ensure that Almo would + not leave Britain. Within a half year he had to report that their efforts + had been futile. + </p> + <p> + “We were too late,” he said. “He did not remain at Ischalis a year. + Egnatius Probus, of Fregellae, had been in Britain more than ten years as + adviser to the tax-department. His health had given way and he was taking + the waters at Aquae Solis. He was an acquaintance of Almo’s owner and went + down to Ischalis after his water-cure had had its effect and he felt + better. While visiting and idling at Ischalis he took a fancy to Almo, + offered a high price for him and bought him. He returned home by way of + Marseilles and from there by ship to Puteoli. He is now on his estates + near Fregellae and Almo is his head overseer, in charge of the entire + place. He has been there three months already.” + </p> + <p> + Brinnaria fidgeted on her sofa, for, as on the previous occasion, Vocco + had imparted his news after dinner. + </p> + <p> + “Give me another goblet of that Setian you bought from Zaelis,” she said. + “I’m getting to be a confirmed wine-bibber. At every piece of bad news I + need a bracer.” + </p> + <p> + After she had emptied her glass, she burst out: + </p> + <p> + “If Almo is acting as villicus of an estate near Fregellae he must be + living with some slave-woman or other.” + </p> + <p> + “He is not,” Vocco informed her. “I made careful inquiries on just that + point and got my information from two different sources. Almo told + Egnatius that he was a woman-hater and could not endure a woman about him. + Egnatius humored him and he is acting villicus without any villica. The + wife of the assistant overseer does whatever is necessary in the way of + prayers and sacrifices and such duties of a villica. She and her husband + occupy the overseer’s house and Almo is living in the hut meant for the + assistant villicus.” + </p> + <p> + “Did anybody ever hear the like!” exclaimed Brinnaria. + </p> + <p> + Vocco’s agents verified this news and made it quite certain that Almo was + masquerading as a slave and as a villicus of a fine estate in lower + Latium, near Fregellae, southeast of Rome on the Latin highroad, about + half way between Capua and the capital. + </p> + <p> + Brinnaria found herself very much in a quandary, and discussions with + Flexinna and Vocco, however lengthy and however often repeated, left her + just where she started. They could not decide whether it was best to do + nothing or to interfere, and whether, if they were to interfere, what form + their intervention should take. + </p> + <p> + Should Vocco travel to Fregellae and force an interview with Almo and try + to appeal to his better self? If so, should he do so without apprizing + Egnatius of the real name and origin of his overseer? Or should they + enlighten Egnatius under a pledge of secrecy and afterwards decide whether + or not to make an attempt to recall Almo to his natural way of life? + Should they do any of these things without appealing to the Emperor or + would it be better first to inform Commodus? They debated over and over + every line of conduct any one of them could suggest. After all complete + inaction and entire secrecy seemed best. + </p> + <p> + This view was confirmed when Brinnaria consulted Celsianus, the most + reputed physician of Rome. She had already confided in Lutorius, who + informed Celsianus, arranged for an interview and was present at it. + </p> + <p> + The great man said: “Almo is not necessarily or even probably deranged. On + the face of what you tell me the most unfavorable conjecture I could form + would be that he has resolved to commit suicide. You will say that the + idea is absurd, that suicide is easy and that the means are always at + hand, which is quite true. + </p> + <p> + “But there are cases, more numerous than you could fancy, of persons who + make up their minds to bring about their end in some unimaginable manner, + of which nobody but themselves would ever have thought. Then they lay + complicated plans and by devious ways approach their purpose. If they are + thwarted or diverted, they never end their lives in any other fashion than + by the special method they have devised. + </p> + <p> + “I am inclined to think that Almo’s entrance into a gang of sword-fighters + was caused by some such intention, that he is alive because the + circumstances he looked forward to never conspired to give him just the + kind of death he preferred. I am inclined to think that he is now working + towards some unthinkable exit from life. + </p> + <p> + “But I am not much disposed to think his such a case at all. It may be a + mere whim of self-torment, or it may be spontaneous yielding to a genuine + liking for the life he is living. What one human being likes cannot be + realized by other human beings, in many cases. + </p> + <p> + “My advice is to let him entirely alone. If you interfere you may + precipitate his suicide, if he meditates suicide. By calling in the help + of the Emperor or of his owner or both, you may destroy the chances, the + very good chances, of his returning to his full senses. Men in his state + of mind are often sane in all respects, and, if unsettled, are deranged + only in one particular. They are generally wholly reasonable on all points + except as to their fad of the moment. If that wears off they are entirely + rational. Let him alone. Watch him, but take no other steps.” + </p> + <p> + This advice seemed simple enough, but carrying it out proved more of a + strain than Brinnaria could have foreseen. The knowledge that Almo was in + Italy, near Fregellae, actually in Latium and within seventy miles of + Rome, that he was living in the hut of an under-farm-bailiff, that he + perhaps purposed some eccentric method of suicide proved racking to her + nerves. She became irritable and fidgety, her music failed to solace or + comfort her and sometimes almost bored her. She groped blindly for + something to distract her mind. + </p> + <p> + First she had a brief but violent attack of solicitude for her pauper + tenants. She found entertainment in visiting her slum properties and in + endeavoring to alleviate the condition of their inmates. They were far + from grateful. To have a Vestal, clad in the awe-inspiring dignity of her + white robes, with all her badges of office, six braids, headdress, + headband, tassels, ribbons, brooch and all descend from her dazzlingly + upholstered carriage and invade the courtyard of their hive was thrilling + but still more disconcerting to a swarm of slum spawn. They bragged of the + honor for the rest of their lives and strutted over it for months, but + they were unaffectedly relieved to see her depart. + </p> + <p> + Her inquiries as to their means of livelihood were excruciatingly + embarrassing. The Roman populace, all freemen with their wives and + children, were legally entitled to free seats at the spectacles and to + cooked rations from the government cook-shops in their precinct. They + throve on their free rations. Of their own efforts they had merely to + clothe themselves and pay the rent of their quarters. Cash for rent and + garments they obtained in whatever way happened to be easiest, often by + dubious means. As to their resources they were reticent. + </p> + <p> + In particular, Brinnaria was unable to cajole any admission, by word or + silence, from any dweller in one of her largest rookeries, and they were + better off than any tenants she had, too. What was more, not one of their + neighbors would impart any information about them.. + </p> + <p> + Brinnaria’s curiosity was aroused. She bethought herself of Truttidius, + the sieve-maker, and of his intimate knowledge of all the dens and lairs + in the city. + </p> + <p> + She asked him. He laughed. + </p> + <p> + “On the Fagutal?” he made sure, “at the second corner beyond the end of + the Subura?” + </p> + <p> + He laughed again. + </p> + <p> + Then he tactfully explained that the tenants in that particular congeries + of buildings were professional secret cut-throats, good enough husbands + and fathers and amicable among themselves, but earning an honest + livelihood by putting out of the way any persons displeasing to anybody + able to pay for their services. + </p> + <p> + Brinnaria abruptly ceased slumming. + </p> + <p> + All the more she threw herself into her horse-breeding. She visited her + stud-farms oftener; and, oddly enough, as the result of her overwrought + state of mind, the management of the farms themselves came to mean less to + her than the means of reaching them and returning. She paid close + attention to the make of her road-carriage, to the speed and pace of her + roadsters. She bought picked teams of blooded mares, selecting them + especially for their ability to keep up a fast walk without breaking pace. + She boasted that she had six spans of mares, any one of which could, at a + walk, outdistance any team in Rome owned by anybody else. + </p> + <p> + By specializing in fast-walking cattle she saved much time in passing from + the Atrium to the city gates and in returning. + </p> + <p> + Outside the city her mares displayed their capacity for other paces than + the walk. She saw to it that her coachman kept them at their utmost speed. + The sight of her tearing along a highway became familiar everywhere + throughout the suburban countryside. She made a hobby of extremely fast + driving and of buying fast mares. + </p> + <p> + Also she fell into another fad, at the time all the rage, invented since + the accession of Commodus and made fashionable by the young Emperor. Some + popinjay had conceived a whim for travelling by litter instead of in his + carriage. It was far less expeditious and far more expensive. But the + notion took. All at once every fop in Roman society must needs take his + country outings, go to his villa and come back from it, not in his + carriage but in his litter. The plea was that a carriage jolted and that + riding in a litter was less tiring. There was something in that, for + carriage springs had not been invented in those days. But mostly it was + just a craze among the very wealthy, as distinguishing them from people + who could afford but one set of litter-bearers. An ordinary four-man + litter could be used only for going about the city—longer distances + were impossible, and excursions into the country soon tired out eight + bearers. For road travelling one must have sixteen bearers, two sets + relieving each other in turn. Brinnaria bought sixteen gigantic negroes + and tested them on her inspections of her stock-farms. She tried German + bearers, Goths and Cilicians. Her bearers became famous for their speed + and endurance. If she heard of any squad reputed better than hers, she + bought it at any price, until, not counting the teams of bearers belonging + to the Palace, there was only one gang in Rome which she envied. She tried + to purchase them but could not. They belonged to her mother’s friend + Nemestronia. + </p> + <p> + Nemestronia always had been a wonder and was a marvel. She was one of the + wealthiest women in Rome and had never been ill a moment in her life. A + very beautiful girl, she had kept her looks and a wonderful singing voice, + still clear and sweet when she was over sixty. She had been, since within + a year after her first marriage, one of the social leaders of Rome. She + had become the social leader of Rome, her influence almost equal to that + of the Empress. She had outlived three empresses and had reigned + unquestioned in the social world for over fifty years, yet had not an + enemy in Rome. Everybody loved Nemestronia. At the time of the litter + craze she had already celebrated her eighty-first birthday, was plump, + rosy, merry and spry, always ready for any amusement, and was living + happily with her fifth husband. + </p> + <p> + She prided herself on her litter-bearers and with her unerring social + instinct anticipated the caprice of her world and provided herself with + three sets of carriers, sixteen to a set. One gang, of brawny + Cappadocians, outclassed any but the Emperor’s own. + </p> + <p> + These Brinnaria tried to buy, tried in vain. Nemestronia was willing to + exchange, if she could do so to her advantage. But sell she would not. + Amid her opulence no sum could tempt her. + </p> + <p> + Brinnaria fumed and drove her horses almost to death, urged her litter-men + almost to exhaustion. But, with all her haste, care outpaced her steeds or + carriers. She gnawed her heart out. + </p> + <p> + Only at Vocco’s house, amid Flexinna’s bevy of youngsters, did she find + peace of mind. + </p> + <p> + Even there, at last, care followed her. + </p> + <p> + When Alma had been more than a year at Fregellae, Brinnaria, visiting + Flexinna about the middle of May, scented more trouble. As they lay down + to dinner she said: + </p> + <p> + “The occasion, I perceive, calls for an extra supply of wine. Let it be + the old Falernian this time and have the mixture strong.” After they had + eaten, none any too heartily, Vocco told his news. + </p> + <p> + Almo had left his master’s estate without a permit, in plain words had + gone off like any runaway slave and had thereby exposed himself to the + penalties incurred by a fugitive. Egnatius had taken the usual steps to + recapture him, but neither he nor the authorities had any clue to Almo’s + whereabouts. As far as they were concerned he had vanished. + </p> + <p> + He had not, however, eluded the vigilance of Brinnaria’s agents, of the + men Vocco had employed to keep him in view. They understood that Egnatius + was to be kept in ignorance of their activity, and gave no aid to the + police of the neighborhood in their efforts to retake him. They had + reported only to Vocco. + </p> + <p> + Almo had money with him and at Arpinum had garbed himself decently for the + road. He avoided the main highway and wandered along by-roads, zigzagging + and circling about. He idled at inns, sometime for days in one place, + often in small towns, oftener at road-houses between. + </p> + <p> + He was then near Atina. + </p> + <p> + At intervals during June and July Vocco gave Brinnaria reports about Almo. + He seemed to enjoy the society of the casual travellers he met at small + inns and of the local frequenters of them. He got on famously with + everybody. Nowhere was he suspected of being a runaway slave and + naturally, for he had the unmistakable carriage and bearing of a born + freeman. The hue and cry Egnatius had set loose after him was active + wherever he went, but he sat under placards offering rewards for his + capture and no one applied the description to him. + </p> + <p> + Early in June he was at Casinum and Interamna, before it ended at Fundi + and Privernum. In July he passed through Setia, Ulubrae, Norba and Cora. + Early in August he was idling at Velitrae, playing quoits in the inn-yard + morning after morning. + </p> + <p> + He seemed to like Velitrae. He stayed there longer than anywhere else. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0017" id="link2HCH0017"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVII - RECKLESSNESS + </h2> + <p> + ON the fifteenth of that same August, not long after noon, Brinnaria was + much surprised by a call from Flexinna. + </p> + <p> + “The most amazing weather that ever was,” Flexinna stated. “I never heard + of such, everybody says nobody ever heard of the like. Even Nemestronia + says she never saw or heard of anything to compare to it. The densest + imaginable fog, as white as milk. You c-c-can’t see across a street, you + c-c-can hardly see the bearers in front of your litter.” + </p> + <p> + “I noticed it in the courtyard,” Brinnaria replied, “and it is thicker + than usual. But we often have morning fogs and I have seen several almost + as dense as this.” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing unusual in a fog d-d-down hereabouts and along the river,” + Flexinna admitted. “B-B-But this fog is most unusual. It is all over the + whole city. I have lived on the Esquiline ever since I was b-b-born and I + never saw a fog up there except p-p-perhaps a whiff just about sunrise and + then only in wisps. This fog is high up on the Esquiline, as d-d-dense as + along the river. I know the fog is all over the city b-b-because I sent + two slaves to the P-P-Pincian and two to the Aventine, and they reported + that it is just as b-b-bad everywhere as here and at home. And I met + Satronius Satro, just b-b-back from B-B-Baiae. He slept at B-B-Bovillae + last night and he says the fog is just as b-b-bad all the way from + B-B-Bovillae. He says it is heavy over the whole c-c-country for miles. It + amounts to a portent.” + </p> + <p> + “Flexinna,” said Brinnaria, “you never came here and at this time of day, + to talk about the weather.” + </p> + <p> + “I d-d-didn’t know how to b-b-begin,” Flexinna admitted. + </p> + <p> + “What has Almo done now?” Brinnaria queried. + </p> + <p> + “He left Velitrae day before yesterday,” said Flexinna, “and went to + Aricia. Yesterday he challenged the K-K-King of the G-G-Grove.” + </p> + <p> + “Just as Celsianus conjectured,” Brinnaria groaned. “Some unthinkable + method of suicide. Is he dead?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” Flexinna replied. “He’s very much alive.” + </p> + <p> + “Then he is the King of the Grove!” Brinnaria cried. + </p> + <p> + “They haven’t fought yet,” Flexinna informed her. + </p> + <p> + “Impossible!” Brinnaria exclaimed. “Or there is something wrong with your + information. There is only one way to challenge the King of the Grove and + that is to enter the Grove with a weapon. Almost as many men as women go + to worship at the Temple of Diana in the Grove by the Lake; the King of + the Grove never notices any unarmed man. But let a man with a weapon of + any kind, spear, sword, or what not, even a club, step over the boundary + line of the Grove and that act of entrance there with a weapon constitutes + a challenge to the King of the Grove; at sight of an armed man the King or + the Grove attacks him. They fight then and there till one is killed. The + survivor is the King of the Grove. + </p> + <p> + “The challenger is supposed to pluck a twig from the sacred oak-tree and + the act of picking the branch is supposed to be the challenge. But, in + practice, the King of the Grove watches the sacred oak so carefully, that + nobody remembers any challenger who succeeded in pulling a twig unless he + won the fight. + </p> + <p> + “That is the only way to challenge the King of the Grove. Everybody knows + that.” + </p> + <p> + “That is just what I always thought,” Flexinna confessed, “b-b-but, it + seems we are b-b-both mistaken. There is another way to challenge the + K-K-King of the G-G-Grove; that is to go to the Dictator of Aricia and + enter formal challenge. In that c-c-case, the Dictator notifies the + K-K-King of the G-G-Grove that he must face the challenger at midnight + next d-d-day. Meanwhile, the challenger is entertained in the + t-t-town-hall of Aricia. He is b-b-bathed, p-p-provided with fresh + c-c-clothing, g-g-given whatever food he asks for and accommodated with a + c-c-comfortable b-b-bed for the night after his challenge. Then, when he + has had a g-g-good chance to sleep all night and has had at least four + g-g-good meals, he is c-c-conducted by the aldermen to the G-G-Grove just + b-b-before midnight. The aldermen t-t-take with them two ancient shields, + p-p-precisely alike, and two ancient Amazonian b-b-battle-axes, also + p-p-precisely alike, which are k-k-kept among the t-t-treasures in the + strong room of the t-t-town hall at Aricia. The challenger plucks a + t-t-twig from the sacred oak. Then he and the K-K-King of the G-G-Grove + face each other in the open space b-b-before it. A shield and a + b-b-battle-axe are handed to each. Then they wait for the word of the + Dictator of Aricia. At the word they fight. + </p> + <p> + “That is the other way to challenge the K-K-King of the G-G-Grove.” + </p> + <p> + Flexinna, as generally happened, had been shown at once up to Brinnaria’s + private apartment and had walked straight into Brinnaria’s bedroom. In + that small room they sat facing each other. + </p> + <p> + “Then they fight at midnight to-night,” Brinnaria deduced. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” Flexinna corroborated. + </p> + <p> + “How did you come here?” her friend queried. + </p> + <p> + “In Nemestronia’s litter,” the visitor answered. “I b-b-borrowed it.” + </p> + <p> + “With her Cappadocian bearers?” queried Brinnaria. + </p> + <p> + “Eighteen, of them,” said Flexinna; “two extras.” + </p> + <p> + “How on earth did you come to do that?” Brinnaria wondered. + </p> + <p> + “I had a notion,” Flexinna explained, “of trying to get to the G-G-Grove + by the Lake b-b-before the fight. I thought p-p-perhaps Almo would listen + to me if I c-c-could see him in t-t-time.” + </p> + <p> + “Did you tell Quintus?” Brinnaria demanded. + </p> + <p> + “Of c-c-course,” said Flexinna. “He wanted to go alone, b-b-but I said + Almo would not listen to him, so I p-p-persuaded him to let me t-t-try. I + c-c-couldn’t think of riding, of c-c-course, as I am. He wouldn’t even + hear of my d-d-driving, said I might as well hang myself and be d-d-done + with it as risk the jar of a t-t-travelling c-c-carriage. I said I’d use + my litter. He said our b-b-bearers c-c-could never g-g-get there in + t-t-time for me to hope to d-d-do any g-g-good. I said I’d b-b-borrow + Nemestronia’s fastest gang. He said he c-c-could g-g-go and c-c-come + b-b-back on a horse quicker than any litter c-c-could reach the G-G-Grove. + I repeated that Almo would certainly p-p-pay no attention to him, b-b-but + might listen to me. So I b-b-borrowed Nemestronia’s litter. Shall I + g-g-go? Shall I start at once?” + </p> + <p> + “No!” Brinnaria cut her off. “Let me think. Sixteen miles? They could do + it in a little over five hours, if everything went just right. They’d take + at least eight hours for the return journey. You wouldn’t be back at the + Appian gate before sunrise. It would be a hungry job.” + </p> + <p> + “I thought of that,” Flexinna informed her. “I’m always ravenous when I’m + this way* and c-c-can never g-g-go from one meal to the next. I had a + k-k-kid-skin of wine p-p-put in the litter and b-b-bread and cheese and + fruit.” + </p> + <p> + *In other words, she’s pregnant. —PG ed. + </p> + <p> + “You did!” cried Brinnaria. “Where is Vocco?” + </p> + <p> + “On horseback b-b-beside the litter,” said Flexinna, “waiting for your + d-d-decision.” + </p> + <p> + “I’ve made it,” Brinnaria proclaimed. + </p> + <p> + “Shall I g-g-go t-t-try?” enquired Flexinna. + </p> + <p> + “No!” Brinnaria fairly shouted, pulling off her headdress. + </p> + <p> + “What shall I d-d-do then?” Flexinna queried. + </p> + <p> + “Undress,” Brinnaria ordered, “undress quick!” Flexinna stared at her, + horrified. + </p> + <p> + “What for?” she quavered. + </p> + <p> + “Undress first and ask afterwards,” Brinnaria commanded. “Undress, woman, + undress!” She was tearing off her clothes as she talked. + </p> + <p> + “Can’t you see, you fool!” she hissed. “The gods have made it all easy. + The densest fog Rome ever saw and all over the country-side, a curtained + litter with the fastest bearers alive right at my door, my best friend on + horseback beside it, drink and food enough and to spare, me off duty till + to-morrow noon and you here to change clothes with me. I put on your + clothes and go save Almo.” + </p> + <p> + “You’ll be outside Rome all night,” Flexinna objected. “That’s sacrilege.” + </p> + <p> + “Not a bit of it,” Brinnaria retorted. “I know a regulation from a taboo. + When the Gauls captured Rome the Flamen of Jupiter went up into the + Capitol with the garrison. He might not leave Rome, it would have been + impious. But the other flamens nd the Vestals left Rome, the Vestals were + months at Caere. It is not impiety for a Vestal to be outside the city + walls over night, it is merely forbidden by the rules. I’m going.” + </p> + <p> + “You might as well g-g-go b-b-bury yourself alive and b-b-be d-d-done with + it,” Flexinna protested. “You’re certain to b-b-be found out. It’s sure + d-d-death for you.” + </p> + <p> + “Hang the risk!” Brinnaria snarled. “I never realized how much I loved + Almo till you brought this news. I don’t care whether I live or die or + what death I die, if I can only save him. + </p> + <p> + “And the risk is too small to think of. All you have to do is to stay abed + and keep still. Utta will never tell and she won’t let anyone in. Numisia + will not suspect anything: any Vestal has the right to twenty-four hours + abed and no questions asked, Meffia spent one day out of ten in bed. + Manlia takes a day’s rest a dozen times a year. Even I have done it + several times, when I was sore all over with jolting too long at full + gallop over our so-called perfect roads. I was abed all day about a month + ago, and certainly I rove hard enough and long enough yesterday and I was + in the Temple half the night. I’ll be back here long before noon + to-morrow. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t you see how easy it is? Flexinna has called on Brinnaria to-day, as + usual, except the hour. And Flexinna often calls on Brinnaria at odd + hours. Flexinna makes a short call and goes out to her litter. Flexinna + makes an excursion into the country in a litter with drawn curtains, her + husband riding by it. Nobody can take any notice of that. Flexinna returns + from her outing, calls at once on Brinnaria, pays a brief call, goes out, + gets into her litter and goes home. Brinnaria, refreshed by twenty-four + hours abed, goes about her duties. The plan simply can’t fail.” She had on + all Flexinna’s clothes by the end of her explanation and was adjusting er + two veils, one over her face, the other tied over the broad-brimmed + travelling-hat, so that the edges of the brim, drawn down on either side, + almost met under her chin and her face was lost in it. + </p> + <p> + Flexinna continued to protest feebly, but Brinnaria made her compose + herself in the bed. + </p> + <p> + “You can have anything you want to eat,” she reminded her, “and as much as + you want, any time.” + </p> + <p> + Utta came at the first signal. + </p> + <p> + “Now listen,” Brinnaria instructed her, “I am in that bed and I am going + to stay there until the lady who has just called on me comes back. That + will be tomorrow morning. I am tired and need rest, the same as I did the + day after the axle broke and I barked my knee in the gravel. I am not + going out now; oh, no the lady going out is the lady who called on me. Do + you understand?” + </p> + <p> + Utta understood. + </p> + <p> + Flexinna, quaking in the bed, prayed under her breath. + </p> + <p> + “For Castor’s sake,” was her farewell, “d-d-don’t forget to s-s-stutter.” + In a fashionable costume of brilliant pink silk with pearly gray + trimmings, feeling horribly conspicuous, but unaccosted and, as far as she + could judge, unnoticed, Brinnaria descended the stairs, traversed the + courtyard and passed the portal. Just outside, in the nook left by the + angle of the wall enclosing the Temple, she found the litter set down + clear of the throng that surged and jostled ceaselessly up and down the + Holy Street. The bearers stood about it, one holding Vocco’s horse; all, + like the street-crowd, vague and unreal in the fog. Through the fog Vocco + strode towards her and checked, amazed. She put her fingers to the folds + of the veil over her lips. + </p> + <p> + “C-C-Careful,” she warned him, laboriously stuttering. “I am Flexinna come + back. Now for Aricia, as fast as the b-b-bearers can hoof it.” + </p> + <p> + Vocco, dazed, helped her into the litter, gave the order and mounted his + horse. + </p> + <p> + Composed in her litter, Brinnaria’s sensations were all of the strangeness + of the outlook; fog blurring the outlines of familiar buildings; fog + hiding the landmarks she looked for, fog wrapping her round till she could + hardly see the front pair of carriers tramping ahead or even Vocco beside + her on his horse; fog concealing all the wide prospect of the levels south + of Rome, fog so thick that they positively groped their way through the + towns along the road, fog so dense that she could not discern the + gradations by which afternoon melted into evening and dusk into darkness. + </p> + <p> + When they were clear of the city Vocco ranged his horse alongside the + litter and expostulated with Brinnaria, talking Greek that the bearers + might not understand. + </p> + <p> + “The best thing you can do,” he said, “is to give up this harebrained + adventure and merely swing round through the suburbs for some hours and + return to the Atrium by some other gate.” + </p> + <p> + “Not I,” she replied in her hardest tone. + </p> + <p> + “How do you expect to succeed in speaking to Almo?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “I leave that to you,” she said; “you must manage to see the Dictator of + Aricia and tell him that you have with you a lady in a litter who must + speak to the challenger before the fight.” + </p> + <p> + “I’ll attempt the commission,” said Vocco, “and I’ll do my utmost, but I + hold it impossible.” + </p> + <p> + “In any case,” spoke Brinnaria, “I keep on even if I have to expose myself + and be recognized in Aricia.” + </p> + <p> + Vocco gave up the effort to influence her. + </p> + <p> + The roads joining the Appian Way were paved with similar blocks of the + same sort of stone. In the fog they went wrong three several times where + side-roads branched off at a thin angle. In each case they failed to + discover their mistake until they had gone on for some distance; in each + case they had to retrace their steps for fear of getting wholly lost if + they tried a cross-road; in each case they wasted much time. + </p> + <p> + Twice the leading bearers were all but trampled on by the recklessly + driven horses of careless drivers. Both times the mix-up delayed them. + </p> + <p> + Just beyond Bovillae they had a third collision, in which one pole of the + litter was snapped and two of the bearers injured. It barely missed + resulting in a free-fight. All of Vocco’s tact was needed to allay the + feelings on both sides. By great good luck he succeeded in getting a + substitute litter-pole from a near-by inn without too much publicity. + </p> + <p> + The delays caused by missing the road and by collisions had cut down the + margin of time they had hoped for at Aricia. This last misfortune delayed + them so much that it seemed unlikely that they could reach the Grove until + midnight. + </p> + <p> + In fact, before they reached Aricia, the road was alive with parties of + celebrants, men and women, but no children, every man carrying a lighted + torch, nearly every man accompanied by a slave with an armful or a + back-load of spare torches, all moving in the same direction with them. + </p> + <p> + With torch-bearing crowds the streets of Aricia were jammed. From gate to + gate of the town they crawled, wading slowly through the press of + revellers. Along the road to the Grove they were as a chip floated along + on a tide of torchbearers, for the parties of worshippers converging to + their great local yearly festival from Tusculum, Tibur, Cora, Pometia, + Lanuvium and Ardea formed a continuous procession, their pulsing + torch-flames looking strange and blurred through the fog. + </p> + <p> + When they reached the top of the ridge enclosing the Lake, Vocco + dismounted and trusted his roan to one of Nemestronia’s extra bearers, as + horses were not allowed within the Grove or its precincts. + </p> + <p> + Not much before midnight the bearers swung sharply at the brink of the + cliff and plunged down the steep narrow road cut along its face. Brinnaria + felt the dampness of the lake air on her cheek. + </p> + <p> + By the Lake the fog was, if possible, more impenetrable than elsewhere. + The Grove, the lodging for the cripples and invalids who thronged the + place to be cured, the vast halls about the temple, the temple itself, all + were doubly whelmed in the darkness and the mist. + </p> + <p> + Brinnaria made out only the six channelled vermilion columns of the temple + portico and the black boughs of the sacred oak. These, to right and left + of the temple area, showed vaguely in the light of thousands of torches in + the hands of the throng packed about it. + </p> + <p> + Respect for a closed litter with sixteen bearers accompanied by a + gentleman in a Senator’s robes won them a way through the crowd, the + torches surging in waves of flame as they ploughed through. + </p> + <p> + When they reached the margin of the open space, Brinnaria, choking with + the realization that she had arrived too late, peered between the drawn + curtains of her litter and saw the pavement of the temple-area bright + under the splendor of the torch-rays; saw a dozen young women, dressed in + gowns of a startling deep orange, standing in a row clear of the + torch-bearing crowd; saw the five aldermen of Aricia in their official + robes, grouped about the square marble altar; saw before the altar a + circular space of clipped turf midway of the area pavement, saw standing + on it to the right of the altar the King of the Grove, clad in his + barbaric smock of dingy undyed black wool, his three-stranded necklace of + raw turquoises broad on his bosom, the fox-tails of his fox-skin cap + trailing by his ears; saw facing him Almo, bare-kneed, his hunting-boots + of soft leather like chamois-skin coming half way up to his calves, his + leek-green tunic covering him only to mid-thigh, his head bare, his right + hand waving an oak bough. + </p> + <p> + After she recognized Almo and glimpsed the bough in his hand she hardly + looked at him. She stared, fascinated, at the white marble altar on which, + as an offering to Diana of the Underworld, the victor of the fight would + lay the corpse of his victim. + </p> + <p> + The Dictator of Aricia, chief of the Aldermen, raised his hand. From + somewhere in the darkness behind the dozen simpering wenches appeared two + slaves, each carrying a small round shield and a double-headed battle-axe. + The shields had painted on each a horse, the battle-axes were of the + pattern always seen in pictures of the legendary Amazons. The blade of + each axe-head was shaped like a crescent moon. From the inner side + projected a flat, thick shank, by which the blade was fastened to the + helve. The curve of each blade made almost a half circle, the tips of the + crescents almost touched the haft between them, so that their outer + cutting-edges made a nearly complete circle of razor-sharp steel, from + which protruded the keen spear-head tipping the shaft. + </p> + <p> + Two of the aldermen received these accoutrements from the slaves. + Brinnaria noticed that one of the other aldermen held the broad, + gold-mounted, jeweled scabbard containing the great scimitar with which + the King of the Grove kept girt, waking or sleeping. She even noted how + its belt trailed from his hands and the shine of its gloss-leather in the + torch-rays. + </p> + <p> + The two aldermen handed a shield and an axe to each contestant. One took + from Almo the oak-bough and passed it to the Dictator. + </p> + <p> + The two champions fitted the shields on their arms, balanced them, and + hefted their battle-axes. Each assumed the posture that suited him best, + his feet well under him. So they stood facing each other, waiting for the + signal. + </p> + <p> + The King of the Grove was a stocky, solidly-built ruffian of medium height + and weight. Almo seemed much taller and very much slenderer and lighter. + His delicate features and thin nose contrasted strangely to the high + cheek-bones, small, close-set eyes, and wide, flat nostrils of his + antagonist. + </p> + <p> + The Dictator waved the oak-bough and shouted. + </p> + <p> + The two champions warily approached each other. + </p> + <p> + Each kept his left foot forward; each crouched, as it were, inside the + shield tight against his shoulder; each held his axe aloft. + </p> + <p> + Each struck, each dodged, Almo awkwardly, his axe trailing behind him + after it missed. + </p> + <p> + The stocky man thought he saw his chance and whirled his weapon, bringing + it down in a terrible sweep. Craftily Almo caught it against his shield, + just below the upper rim, horribly it grated against the bronze plating of + the shield, with the full weight of the mighty swing it buried itself in + the sod. + </p> + <p> + The force of his blow carried the assailant with it so that he almost fell + face forward on the sward. + </p> + <p> + Before he could recover himself Almo’s ready axe swung. + </p> + <p> + Brinnaria saw it flash in the air. Then she saw the fox-skin cap in two + halves, a horrid red void between. + </p> + <p> + “Oh Vocco,” she called, “t-t-take me home, t-t-take me home.” At that + volcanic instant, at the bitterest moment of her life, what kept back her + tears was her tendency to laugh at the fact, that, ill the midst of her + agony, she did not forget to stutter. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0018" id="link2HCH0018"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVIII - FURY + </h2> + <p> + THE darkness of the night, the impenetrability of the fog and the + weariness of the bearers all contributed to impede their return journey. + While on her way and buoyed up by her wild purpose, Brinnaria had been + able to rest herself by dozing along the roadway and had remembered to + keep up her strength with food and wine. After they had turned back she + could not have swallowed anything, if she had thought to try, and the + nearest she came to sleep was an uneasy drowse which seemed a long + nightmare. The Cappadocians, famous for their strength, endurance and + indifference to wakefulness, exertion, hunger or thirst, were also astute + foragers. On their way from Rome the reliefs had invaded every inn they + passed and, lavishly provided with small coins by Vocco, had provisioned + themselves abundantly. These supplies they handed over to their fellows + when they took up the litter. All the way back the spare carriers, + plodding behind, munched their provender and conversed in undertones. The + bearers, necessarily flagging, trudged leadenly. + </p> + <p> + Through it all Brinnaria was haunted by her memory of two pictures. + </p> + <p> + One was of the row of saffron-clad hussies watching the fight. + </p> + <p> + The King of the Grove was the only legal polygamist in Italy. Concomitant + with the barbarous and savage conditions determining his tenure of the + office as High Priest in the Grove by the Lake of Diana of the Underworld, + congruent with his outlandish attire and ornaments, he had the right to + have twelve wives at once. Seldom had a King of the Grove failed to avail + himself of the privilege; and, indeed, to have twelve wives was regarded + as incumbent upon him, as necessary to his proper sanctity and as + indispensable to maintain the curative potencies of the locality, which + restored to health each year an army of sufferers. + </p> + <p> + He had the power to repudiate any wife at any time, to dismiss her and + expel her from the Grove. Any former wife of his, when expelled or after + leaving the Grove of her own accord, became a free woman with all the + privileges of a liberated slave. Most of his ex-wives, however, elected to + remain in the Grove and formed a sort of corps of official nurses for the + sick who flocked there to be cured. In practice the King of the Grove + usually repudiated any wife who lost her youthful charms. + </p> + <p> + His wives were commonly, like himself, truant slaves. + </p> + <p> + Fugitive male slaves were an ever-present feature of country life in all + parts of the ancient world, as tramps are in modern times. A female + runaway, however, was a distinct rarity. But the sanctuary afforded them + by the Grove encouraged them about Aricia and many fled to it. If young + and comely they became wives of its King. Also slave-girls were constantly + being presented to him by grateful convalescents, who had come to the + Grove as invalids or cripples and had left it hale and sound. Thus the + twelve wives of the King were always as vital and buxom a convocation of + wenches as could be found anywhere. + </p> + <p> + The spectacle they had made haunted Brinnaria. + </p> + <p> + They had been so utterly callous, so completely indifferent, so merely + curious to see which contestant was to be their future master, so + vacant-mindedly giggling and nudging each other. The impression they had + made on her nauseated her, while the memory of their red cheeks, full + contours, youthfulness and undeniable animal charm enraged her. + </p> + <p> + The other picture which had branded itself on her memory was the sight of + Almo, straightening up after stooping over his butchered predecessor, + clasping the triple turquoise necklace about his throat. + </p> + <p> + Almo was King of the Grove. + </p> + <p> + At that thought and at the recollection of the dozen jades wriggling and + smirking, her blood boiled. + </p> + <p> + By the margin of the cliff Vocco had had much ado finding his horse. On + the road back to Aricia they passed through many parties of belated + worshippers. As the torch festival kept up until dawn that town was open + all night. Unquestioned they passed in at a wide-open gate, through + torch-lit, but almost deserted streets, out at another wide-set gate. + </p> + <p> + In the Roman world travelling by night was almost unexistent. Only + imperial couriers and civilians driven by some dire stress kept on their + way after sunset. In general travellers halted for the night at some + convenient inn or town, or camped by the road if darkness overtook them + far from any hostelry. But on the night of the yearly festival of Diana, + many parties were abroad. Between Aricia and Bovillae they met several + convoys, and about half-way they were overtaken and passed by a rapidly + driven carriage, and somewhat tater by a troop of horsemen, trotting + restrainedly, one of them on a white horse which showed rather distinctly, + even in the fog and darkness. + </p> + <p> + Near Bovillae they overtook the same band of horsemen, halted about the + wreck of two travelling carriages which had crashed together in the fog. + Two of the horses lay dead on the stones, killed to put them out of their + misery. From curb to curb the pavement was cluttered with pieces of + wreckage and the carcasses of the horses. The roadway was completely + blocked and the bearers, at first, could find no way around the obstacle. + </p> + <p> + Some women were wailing over a little boy whose leg had been crushed and + who was uttering frightful shrieks. The child screamed so terribly that + Brinnaria impulsively leaned half-way out of her litter, carried away by + her sympathies. Close beside her she saw the white horse and astride of + it, vague in the mist, but unmistakable in his lop-sided, bony leanness, + outlined against the glare of the torches behind him, she recognized + Calvaster. + </p> + <p> + Instantly she shrank behind her litter curtains. + </p> + <p> + Almost at once a relief bearer who had gone to scout reported a free path + through the fields by the road. + </p> + <p> + They continued on their way. + </p> + <p> + Bovillae, not being one of the towns participating in the Festival of + Diana, was closed for the night, its gates shut fast, its walls dark. + Going round it was a trying detour over rough cross-roads. + </p> + <p> + After they were again on the Appian Road they were for a second time + overtaken by the same band of horsemen. When their hoof-beats had grown + faint in the distance ahead, Vocco ranged his horse alongside the litter + and asked: + </p> + <p> + “Did you notice the man on the white horse?” + </p> + <p> + “I recognized him,” said Brinnaria briefly. + </p> + <p> + The fog held all the way to the Appian Gate, which they reached as some + watery sun-rays struggled through the mist, held until they reached the + Atrium. + </p> + <p> + Out of her litter tumbled Brinnaria in Flexinna’s rumpled finery, feeling + unescapably recognizable, even inside her double veil and under her + broad-brimmed, tied-down travelling hat. + </p> + <p> + But the heavy-built, sinewy slave-woman who guarded the portal of the + Atrium passed her in without remark. She met no one on her way up to her + suite, where she found Utta squatted outside her bedroom door. + </p> + <p> + Flexinna was incredulously delighted, pathetically overjoyed to see her. + </p> + <p> + “You have a wonderful larder here,” she said. “Every single thing I asked + for was b-b-brought me at once. I d-d-didn’t have any appetite, b-b-but I + had to have food. And I g-g-got it.” + </p> + <p> + Promptly she put on her own clothing and was gone. + </p> + <p> + In a trice Brinnaria was flat on her back in bed with Utta massaging her + vigorously and methodically. After one comprehensive rubbing she went off + for hot milk, hot wine, honey, barley-meal and spices. The posset she + brewed she compelled her mistress to swallow. Then she gently massaged her + until she was asleep. Thanks to these attentions Brinnaria, after some + four hours abed, was able to reappear in the Temple looking not much + unlike a Vestal who had enjoyed twenty-four hours of unbroken repose. + </p> + <p> + Numisia appeared to suspect nothing. Certainly she remonstrated with her + and begged her not to exhaust herself so by hard riding. + </p> + <p> + After that first sleep, induced by fatigue and by Utta’s ministrations, + Brinnaria slept little. She tossed and turned. Before her eyes was + continually the recollection of that row of saffron-clad minxes, of their + exuberant health, heartiness and rollicking vivacity. + </p> + <p> + The memory of them suffocated her. In the Atrium she had to conceal her + inward convulsions of rage, had to appear calm, placid and collected. + </p> + <p> + The effort made her the more explosive when she was at Flexinna’s and + could speak out. She stormed. + </p> + <p> + Flexinna let her talk herself hoarse. But no amount of talking relieved + her. Whatever she said, no matter how often she had said it, she wound up + the same way: + </p> + <p> + “Here I am, packed in ice, so to speak, for thirty years and there he is, + King of the Grove, with twelve wives, twelve wives, <i>twelve wives</i>!” + </p> + <p> + Jealousy, in its most furious form, is not a mild malady, even in our + days, and in women of northern ancestry and cold blood. Brinnaria was a + hot-blooded Latin and the pulses of her heart were earthquakes of fire. + The Romans were a ferocious and sanguinary stock. Even among the most + delicately nurtured women love turned quickly into hate and solicitude + might in a brief time give place to the thirst for vengeance. + </p> + <p> + Brinnaria struggled with herself for some days. + </p> + <p> + Then she bade her coachman drive her to the Fagutal. Her appearance among + her tenants caused general trepidation, as usual. + </p> + <p> + When the clustering drabs and brats discovered that she felt no present + interest in women and children, but that she demanded speech with the men, + the elder men, their dismay deepened into acute consternation. + </p> + <p> + Since she would take no denial some dotards and striplings were routed out + and the patriarch of the clan was thrust forward. He looked senile from + his slippered feet to the shine on his bald-pate, he was blear-eyed and + hard of hearing, but he understood plain Latin when he heard it, he knew + of old the signs he read in the flash of her eyes, the set of her jaw and + every feature as she stood or moved. Also no dog ever had a keener scent + for game than he for business. + </p> + <p> + He shouted in the slang of his caste. + </p> + <p> + The women and children vanished. + </p> + <p> + Promptly a chair was brought, carefully dusted and she was invited to seat + herself. Before her cringed, in attitudes of obsequious deference, a group + of as hulking, truculent, ruthless villains as could have been found + anywhere on earth. Just out of earshot of a low-voiced conversation, stood + younger men, sentinels, to keep all others at a distance. + </p> + <p> + The patriarch’s son, recognized chief of the brotherhood, an appallingly + inhuman brute, acted as spokesman. + </p> + <p> + At the first word their wary expression altered to one of brotherly + comprehension. There was a man to be killed. Pride in their vocation shone + all over them. Yes, they knew of the King of the Grove, who did not? and + they especially, since the patriarch’s grandfather, great-grandfather to + the spokesman, had at an advanced age ended his life in the Grove, after + years as its priest, having become King late in life, the last of a long + series of challengers whom the Emperor Caligula had suborned against an + insufferable and all but invincible hierophant. + </p> + <p> + Could they find a swashbuckler willing to assail the present incumbent? + </p> + <p> + Of a surety and what was more able to vanquish anybody. + </p> + <p> + Could it be arranged secretly? + </p> + <p> + No human being would ever suspect that she knew anything about the matter; + what was more, the most inquisitive would never divine that they + themselves had any hand in the change of priests at Aricia. + </p> + <p> + How could this be accomplished? + </p> + <p> + In countless ways. One might find a discontented slave, mighty and skilled + with weapons, and reveal to him a means of bettering his condition, or one + might bribe the owner of a capable slave to wink at his running away, or + if no fit slave could be found, a suitable freeman might be induced to + become a slave under a master also in the plot. It was easy, merely a + matter of money. + </p> + <p> + How much money would be needed? + </p> + <p> + That would depend. If they could cajole a slave the job would call only + for cash for the instigator’s expenses, for journey-money and for a good + sabre for the challenger, and at the last a bonus for all concerned. If a + slave-owner had to be bribed, more cash and more money for bonuses would + be required. If a freeman had to be employed the enterprise would be still + more expensive. It was all a matter of money, above all, of cash. + </p> + <p> + Cash was forthcoming. + </p> + <p> + Brinnaria returned to the Atrium by a circuitous drive out the Tiber Gate, + round through the suburbs and in at the River Gate. She needed fresh air. + All the way, all the afternoon, all the wakeful night, she was in an eery + state of icy, numb exaltation. It was all over—Almo was a dead man, + she had avenged herself, she had vindicated the proprieties, her wrath was + righteous, her vengeance laudable. This tense condition of her nerves + lasted for some days. + </p> + <p> + According to stipulation the messenger from the tenements on the Fagutal + was a decently clad woman of inconspicuously respectable appearance. She + came after an interval of about ten days. She was apologetic. Their first + champion had perished. + </p> + <p> + Twice more she brought the same message. Then Brinnaria ventured a second + visit to the unsavory locality. She was sarcastic. The chief was abashed. + </p> + <p> + This, he said, was evidently a task unexpectedly difficult. The more + certain was it that they would measure up to the requirements. They felt + that their time-honored reputation was at stake. + </p> + <p> + There followed for Brinnaria an exciting, a wearing autumn and winter. For + some months messages came to her at about nine-day intervals, all of the + same tenure. Towards mid-winter, on a mild fair day, she risked a third + expostulation with her hirelings. On an apologetic and humiliated rabble + she poured her scorn. + </p> + <p> + Thereafter the messages came thicker, about one every four days, but + monotonously unwelcome. Brinnaria set her teeth and sent all the money + asked for. + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile her wrath, her jealousy, her thirst for vengeance steadily waned + and their place was largely taken by admiration for Almo’s incredible + skill and by a sort of pride in him. + </p> + <p> + But again and again the vision of the twelve baggages returned to her and + she steeled her heart. One warm June morning she lost patience and burst + in on her gang of cut-throats. + </p> + <p> + Inundated by a cascade of vitriolic denunciations and stinging sneers they + hung their heads, too limp to utter a protest. The patriarch was weeping + openly. + </p> + <p> + Turned from anger to curiosity she found the rookery was in mourning. + Their chief, the apple of their eye, aghast at the failures of his + minions, had himself undertaken to redeem their honor. For him they + grieved. They owned themselves beaten. They had scoured Italy, had sent + against Almo every promising bully in the fifteen districts. Their best + young men had gone, lastly their adored leader. They could do no more; + Almo was invincible. + </p> + <p> + Brinnaria, reflecting that, after all, she was to blame for their + dejection and woe, that, after all, they had done their best, distributed + what cash she had with her and promised them a lavish apportionment of + gold. + </p> + <p> + As she went she realized, as they realized, that the place would never see + her again. + </p> + <p> + Next morning she sent for Guntello. That faithful Goth, still huge, mighty + and terrific, came, mild as a pet bulldog. + </p> + <p> + “Go kill him!” she commanded. + </p> + <p> + “Certainly, Little Mistress,” he acquiesced, “but whom am I to kill?” + </p> + <p> + She explained. + </p> + <p> + Guntello, always parsimonious, asked a moderate sum for the purchase of a + sabre and for road-money. She gave him ten times as much. + </p> + <p> + When he was gone, she felt, as at first, a painful numbness of exaltation. + Almo was now certainly a dead man. + </p> + <p> + This mood suddenly inverted itself into an uncontrollable passion f + solicitude. Off she posted to Flexinna and confessed everything to Vocco. + In a frenzy she demanded they again borrow Nemestronia’s litter and that + Vocco again accompany her to Aricia. To their expostulations she retorted + that go she would, if not escorted by Vocco, then alone, if not disguised + and in a borrowed litter, then in her own and openly, or openly in her + carriage or afoot if need be; but go she would! + </p> + <p> + Flexinna succeeded in getting her to listen long enough to urge that there + was no need for her to go personally, as Guntello would obey Vocco at + sight of her signet ring, moreover that Guntello now had a long start and + that only a swift horseman might hope to intervene in time. To these + representations she yielded. + </p> + <p> + Vocco returned amazed and manifestly relieved. He had arrived too late. + Guntello was dead. + </p> + <p> + That night Brinnaria wept long and bitterly. + </p> + <p> + “The poor, brave, harmless, faithful fellow,” she moaned. “Out of the + malignity of my heart, in my pride and callousness, I sent him to an + undeserved death! Oh, I am a wicked woman!” Strangely enough Guntello’s + death seemed to divert her mind entirely from the idea of avenging herself + on Almo. From hating him, she came to realize that she had really loved + him all the while, that she loved him unalterably. From thinking that she + desired his death she came to dread acutely that, exhausted in body by + more than a hundred fights in ten months and worn by the strain of + ceaseless anxiety and vigilance, Almo might succumb to even a + chance-brought adversary. + </p> + <p> + In this new mood she confided in Lutorius. + </p> + <p> + The good man was horrified. + </p> + <p> + “And I never suspected anything wrong!” he exclaimed. “At least you have + been outwardly collected. Nobody has suspected anything. But this is + terrible. A Vestal should menace no man’s life, should not desire any + man’s death. Far from it, her heart should be clean of hate, malice or + envy.” + </p> + <p> + “Never mind what I have been,” said Brinnaria. + </p> + <p> + “No disasters have befallen Rome. There is no sign of any wrathfulness of + the gods, or of their displeasure, and I am no longer as I was. That is + all over, I am chastened. I desire harm to no one. Quite the reverse. What + fills my mind now is the thought that, sooner or later, Alma must perish + at the hand of some challenger. I long to save him. I would move earth and + sea to save him. Must a King of the Grove live and die King of the Grove? + Is there no way to rescue him?” + </p> + <p> + “Consult the Emperor,” said Lutorius. “He is Chief Pontiff of Rome.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0019" id="link2HCH0019"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIX - COMFORT + </h2> + <p> + COMMODUS received Brinnaria in the same palatial room in which she had so + often conferred with his father. The majestic impression of the + magnificent hall was, however, marred by the evidence of the young + Emperor’s chief interests. On one of the great chests lay a pair of boxing + gloves, on another a quiver of arrows and two unstrung bows, on a third a + bridle; a fourth was open and from it protruded a sheaf of those wooden + swords which the Romans used for fencing-practice as we use foils. + Commodus could never wholly free himself from his absorbing passion for + athletic sports. + </p> + <p> + He himself was a sort of artistic caricature of his father, being very + like him in height, build, features and complexion, with similarly + abundant hair and beard falling over his shoulders and bosom in long + ringlets. But in place of the gravity, wisdom, intelligence and sympathy + which had ennobled the countenance of Aurelius, his face wore an + expression of boyish frivolity, silly vanity, vapid stupidity and + impatient selfishness. + </p> + <p> + Brinnaria had seen him countless times and often near at hand, not only + close to her when both occupied their official seats in the Amphitheatre + or the Circus, at horse-races or other shows, but almost at arm’s length + at various religious functions, processions, sacrifices and other acts of + public worship. Necessarily they had often exchanged formal greetings, but + never yet any other words. + </p> + <p> + He greeted her effusively, with a comical mixture of hobbledehoy + clumsiness and imperial dignity. + </p> + <p> + “I’m glad you demanded an audience,” he said, as she sat down; “we should + have had a good talk long ago. You lambasted old Bambilio. That is one for + you. A juicier story I never heard. You are made of pepper. And you saved + the retiarius, the year after I was born. I’ve often gloated over the + story and wished I had been there to see. I was there when you had your + embarrassing experience and came through it so gallantly. I was proud of + you, like everybody else. I remember it well. And Father gave me special + instructions about you, so emphatically that even scatter-brained as I am + I have not forgotten them. I’ve been meaning to have a talk with you ever + since I took up this Emperor job. But you know how it is. Every day there + are ready and waiting for me to do more things I really want to do than + anyone man could get through in anyone day, and three-quarters of them I + have to forego doing because of the pressure of my official duties. I can + never seem to get time for half the sword-exercise and archery drill and + driving practice I need, let alone for chats with heroines. + </p> + <p> + “I trust you’ll accept my apologies. + </p> + <p> + “There! That is all the talking I mean to do. I’m going to listen, now. + Tell me what you want and I’ll see your desire accomplished. I’ll do + anything for you, not only for your heroism and on account of Father’s + directions, but because of your horse-breeding. They say you’re as good a + judge of a horse as any man in Italy and I believe there are not a dozen + to equal you. + </p> + <p> + “I’ve driven several pairs of your crack colts and they are paragon + racers, docile as lambs and mettlesome as game-cocks. + </p> + <p> + “There! I’ve gone on talking! But I am really going to stop now and + listen. State your wishes.” + </p> + <p> + “I’ll have to make a long story of it,” said Brinnaria, hesitatingly. + </p> + <p> + “And one sixty times better worth listening to than ninety-nine out of a + hundred of the long stories folks bore me with, I’ll wager,” said + Commodus. “If it is long we’ll get to the end quicker by beginning at + once. And take your time, I’ll talk to you till dark, if need be. You are + entitled to all of my time you choose to claim.” Brinnaria began at the + beginning and rehearsed her story fully, Commodus listening without much + fidgeting and interrupting only to say now and then: + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I know about that. I remember that.” When she came to Almo’s escape + from Britain the Emperor slapped his thigh and emitted a sound between a + grunt and a squawk. + </p> + <p> + “The joke is on me!” he guffawed. “Just like me! Father told me + particularly about his injunctions to Opstorius, and Pertinax himself + reminded me about Almo after Father’s death. But it all went out of my + head and I never thought of it from the moment Pertinax bowed himself out + until this very instant. I’ll make up to you for my forgetfulness, I + promise you. Go on.” Upon her telling of Almo’s idling at inns after he + ran away from Fregellae, Commodus cut in with: + </p> + <p> + “I liked Almo, what little I saw of him, but I had forgotten him. You make + me remember him, make me recall trifling things about him, attitudes, + smiles, tones of his voice, witty replies, quips. I liked him. But I like + him better than ever from what you tell me of him. I understand him. I + know just how he feels. I long, sometimes, to chuck Emperorizing and go + off alone, with no responsibilities, and have a really good time + hobnobbing with the good fellows the world is full of. I envy him. I dream + of doing it, but he cut loose and did it. Good for Almo.” At first mention + of the King of the Grove Commodus leapt up from his throne, strode up and + down the room and clapped his hands. + </p> + <p> + Two pages rushed in. + </p> + <p> + “Get out!” he shouted. “I wasn’t clapping for you.” He paced the room like + a caged tiger. + </p> + <p> + “Think of it!” he exclaimed. “Think of it! Your lad certainly has fire in + his belly, yes and brains in his head, too! Think of it! He thought it all + out up there in the raw all-day mists, thought it all out, and he works + towards his purpose like a pattern diplomat, like a born general, like a + Scipio, like a cat after a bird! Has himself sold as a slave, bides his + time, puts himself in the pink of condition, watches his opportunity. + </p> + <p> + “Think of it! Disconsolate because he couldn’t marry you, moody because he + has to wait so long, he seeks comfort in challenging the King of the + Grove. Oh, I love him! Only a prince of good fellows would have thought of + it. No ordinary adventure would divert him. He picks out the most + hazardous venture possible. Oh, I love him!” + </p> + <p> + When she narrated her interchange of clothing with Flexinna and her + litter-journey, Commodus looked grave. The loutishness vanished from his + attitude and expression. He became wholly an Emperor. + </p> + <p> + “Out of Rome, outside the walls, beyond the Pomoerium all night!” he + exclaimed. “That sounds bad. You were fool-hardy, too reckless entirely. + Why that is impiety. That amounts to sacrilege!” As with Flexinna, + Brinnaria reminded him of the Vestals’ flight after the disaster at the + Allia and of their sojourn at Caere, again emphasizing the contrast + between their unreprehended departure and the scrupulous steadfastness of + the Flamen of Jupiter. + </p> + <p> + “You have me!” he acknowledged. “Your contentions are sound. But, all the + same, even if it was merely a violation of rule, still, it is a mighty + serious matter. It is a good thing for you that I like you, that my Father + trusted you so notably, and gave me such explicit and emphatic injunctions + about you, that you have made a clean breast of it all to me. If I had + known nothing more about you than I know of Manlia or Gargilia, if I had + learned of your escapade from anyone but you, I’d have had you formally + accused, tried, convicted and buried alive with the utmost dispatch. + </p> + <p> + “As things are, after all Father had to say about you, after his detailing + to me your several conversations with him, I understand, I sympathize, I + am convinced of the innocence of your feeling for Almo, of the austerity + with which you have banished from you all thoughts unbefitting a Vestal + and have postponed your anticipations of marriage until your service shall + have come to an end, I believe in the impeccable correctness of your + attitude. + </p> + <p> + “But, without that, even having learnt of your prank from yourself, I + should have thought it necessary to lay the facts before the College of + Pontiffs and ask their opinion. It looks fishy, stravaging all over the + landscape after dark with a cavalier beside your litter all night long. I + comprehend, I condone, I judge that you have not impaired your + qualifications for your high office. I have no qualms. But it is well for + you that Father instructed me. Go on, tell me the rest.” Over the fight he + rubbed his hands and chirruped with delight, and, when she spoke of the + King’s harem, he burst into roars of laughter, rolling himself on his + throne, slapping his thighs, holding his ribs. + </p> + <p> + “Oh you women,” he gurgled, “you are all alike, you Vestals as much as the + rest! The fire of womanhood smoulders under your icy composure like the + fires of Etna under her mantle of snow. + </p> + <p> + “You more than most Vestals, of course. You are a real human being, you + are! So you went out to save him, even if you lost your life trying, even + if you were buried alive for it, and you came back hot, red hot, to have + him killed, and the sooner the better, it couldn’t be too soon for you. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I’m glad you came. I haven’t been entertained like this since I was + made Emperor. Go on!” When she uttered the word Fagutal and told of her + visit to the rookery he had another fit of laughter and exhausted himself + with mirth. + </p> + <p> + When she narrated the repeated failures of the champions she had suborned + and Almo’s uniform success, Commodus was in ecstasy. + </p> + <p> + “He’s the boy for my money,” he cried. “He’s worth all the trouble you’ve + had with him. You’ll get a husband worth waiting for. He’s one in a + million. One hundred and five bouts in ten months and victor in all of + them! He’s a jewel, a pearl I I’d do anything for you, as I told you, I’d + keep myself on the rack day and night for you and him. You are a pair! + There’s not on earth the match for the two of you!” + </p> + <p> + At the end of her story he said: + </p> + <p> + “You have not gone to all this trouble and taken up so much of my time and + confided to me all the secrets of your heart merely to ease your mind. + There’s something you want me to do, some help you expect to gain from me. + You have given me no inkling of what it is. What is it? Speak out!” + </p> + <p> + “He is certain to be killed sooner or later,” she said, wringing her + hands. “I want you to help me to save him.” + </p> + <p> + “Save him!” Commodus echoed. “Isn’t he competent to save himself? Hasn’t + he convinced you of his ability to protect himself—Sooner or later? + Much later, very much later. And he’s more likely to be killed by old age + than by any weapon in the hands of any man. + </p> + <p> + “I’ll never understand women. No man can, I suppose. You’re bent, bound + and resolved that he must die. You pour out gold like water to compass his + death. You have Italy ransacked for dexterous cutthroats. He never turns a + hair. It’s easy for him as for a Molossian dog to kill wolves. He enjoys + it; disposes of every man who dare face him. You can’t find another bravo + to take the risk, not for any money! Then, when he has proved himself the + best fighter in Italy, you face about and all of a sudden you are in a wax + for fear some one may kill him! + </p> + <p> + “Nobody will ever kill him. You and I saw him dispose of more than a dozen + expert gladiators, one after the other; you saw how daintily and adroitly + he did, it. You have just described his fight with his predecessor. It was + over almost before it was begun. The incumbent was a dead man from the + moment he faced Almo. Both knew it, too, and, since then he has done for + the pick of the blackguards from all Italy. If Ravax and his gang could + find no one to face him, there is none; if no man of that crew could best + him, not Ravax himself, no man can best him. Don’t you see?” + </p> + <p> + “No, I don’t,” she said. “It will be just like his fights in the arena. No + matter how often he wins, he is bound to lose at last.” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t you believe it,” Commodus argued. “I remember him well. I was wild + over him just after Father’s triumph and saw a good deal of him before he + set out for Britain. I was then no such all-round expert at weapon-play as + I have become since, but I was good for my age. I fenced with him + repeatedly and I know his quality. I had all the best swordsmen in the + capital pitted against him and not one of them was his match. Murmex Lucro + did not come to Rome till after Father’s death. So I never saw Murmex and + Almo fence. But let me tell you this: Murmex is the only man alive who can + fence with me for points and make anything like my score. And Almo is the + only man alive, except me, who is fit to face Murmex on equal terms. There + are only two men on earth who could kill Almo in a fight with any kind of + weapons—Murmex is one and I am the other. + </p> + <p> + “Why, Almo is as safe in the Grove as I am in the Palace. Don’t you worry + about him. Nobody will kill him; take it from me, I know.” + </p> + <p> + Brinnaria, with a sharp intake of her breath, gazed about the room and + collected herself to resume her argument and make her next point. + </p> + <p> + “Do you concede,” she queried, “that I have the right to be solicitous + about Almo’s life?” + </p> + <p> + “Father said so,” Commodus replied, “and I never knew him to be wrong. I + took that opinion from him and I see no reason to change it.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you concede,” she pressed him, “that I have the right to looking + forward to marrying him at the end of my service?” + </p> + <p> + “Like Father, I do,” he admitted. + </p> + <p> + “How can I ever marry him,” she demanded, “if he remains King of the + Grove?” + </p> + <p> + The young Emperor laughed merrily. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t you worry about that, either,” he said. “I told you I’d do anything + for you and I meant it. I told you I’d do anything for Almo, and I meant + that too. But, as things are, doing what you want and what is good for him + will be doing just what I most want myself. I have a frightfully poor + memory. Barely seven years ago my Father triumphed after what was thought + a complete, decisive and crushing victory over Avidius Cassius and a huge + confederation of nomadic tribes. Cassius was certainly abolished; he was + buried. But after scarcely five years the desert nomads were as active as + ever and they have grown so pertinacious and cocky that something must be + done. I don’t want to go myself, and I feel no confidence in my ability to + accomplish anything if I went. I have been on the rack to decide whom to + send. I can’t afford to send some bungler who’d mismanage and let the + sand-hills devour a half a dozen of my best legions. + </p> + <p> + “My councillors and I have found no promising candidate. All the while I + have been cudgelling my brains trying to remember something Father told + me. I distinctly recalled that he said that he had in view the very + paragon of a commander to dispatch against Avidius, but that some + occurrence made it impossible to send him and he had to go himself. I + couldn’t for the life of me recollect what had happened to hinder the man + going or what the man’s name was. Since it was a verbal communication from + Father I had no memorandum and no one else had ever known it. + </p> + <p> + “Now I remember that Almo was the man and that his infatuation with the + life of a gladiator was what prevented. + </p> + <p> + “Do you see what I mean? I shall not have to go to Syria and I’ll send the + very best man for that job who can be found on earth. If anybody knows + what I’m doing they’ll say that Almo is a lunatic and I am another to send + him. But nobody will ever know and if everybody knows, what do I care. + Father knew a good man when he saw one. I’ll take his word for it that + Almo proved himself the greatest genius for desert fighting that the + Republic has produced in a hundred years. And I’ll follow my own intuition + that a swashbuckler whose own thoughts prompted him to challenge the King + of the Grove as a cure for tedium, who had the nerve to carry out the idea + and the skill to win a hundred and six fights in ten months must be a good + all-round man and a real man clear through. I take it that being put in + supreme command of a great expedition will brush the cobwebs from Almo’s + brain and restore him to himself. Do you follow my idea?” + </p> + <p> + “I cannot conjecture,” Brinnaria replied, “how you expect to carry it + out.” + </p> + <p> + “Simple enough,” said Commodus. “I’m not the man my Father was, not by a + great deal. I am a natural all-round athlete, but I was never born to be + an Emperor. All the same, when I buckle down to my job, I’m not such a bad + hand at it. If I have a talk with Almo I’ll swing him my way without half + trying.” + </p> + <p> + “But,” Brinnaria interposed, “even you, even as Emperor and Chief Pontiff, + cannot free a man who has become King of the Grove. There is no record of + any form of exauguration for a Priest of Diana of the Underworld. There + would be an outcry. Once King of the Grove a man must live out his life as + King of the Grove.” + </p> + <p> + Commodus grinned a school-boy grin. + </p> + <p> + “My dear,” he said, “there are more ways of killing a dog besides choking + him to death on fresh curds.” + </p> + <p> + Brinnaria stared. + </p> + <p> + “You talk,” he said, “as if you had gone over all the records. Don’t you + recall two cases where a King of the Grove died without being killed?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” she admitted. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” he continued, “what was done?” + </p> + <p> + “Two challengers were brought forward,” she said, “and they fought each + other.” + </p> + <p> + “Just so,” said he, “and don’t you recall one case where a King of the + Grove disappeared and was believed to have run away, but was never found, + nor any trace of him?” + </p> + <p> + “I remember that, too,” she agreed. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” he pressed her, “what was done in that case?” + </p> + <p> + “Two challengers fought each other that time also,” she allowed. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” he summed up, “that’s what we’ll have done now. Almo will vanish. + He’s good at it, he’s had practice. Two challengers can be found easily + enough.” + </p> + <p> + “But,” she cavilled, wide-eyed, “there’s all the difference in the world + between egging on two challengers after the post is vacant and arranging + to vacate the post. What you propose would be sacrilege, impiety.” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t you worry about that!” he soothed her. “The priesthood at Aricia is + no part of our hierarchy; the safety of Rome in no way depends on its + sanctity. It is important enough for the nine towns that share the cult, + but it concerns no others. It’s an alien cult, anyhow. Whether Orestes + brought it to Aricia or Hippolytus or who else makes no difference, nor + the tradition that it is four hundred years older than Rome. It’s a + disgrace to Italy and it exists on sufferance. Father told me that + Grandfather and he were both in half a mind to have it suppressed as the + Bacchanals were suppressed. The curative repute of the Grove stood in the + way. As for me, if it were not for the sporting character of the King’s + tenure, I’d see to it that Almo would be the last King. I feel free to do + as I please in any matter that concerns it.” + </p> + <p> + Brinnaria said nothing. + </p> + <p> + He resumed: + </p> + <p> + “Leave it all to me. I’ll go to Aricia myself; I’ll expostulate with Almo; + I’ll appeal to his manhood, to his pride, to his patriotism. Ten to one + he’s disillusioned by this time, sick of his job and ready to listen to + reason. He’ll promise to obey me and he’ll obey me. + </p> + <p> + “The rest will be managed by men who will make no mistakes. They’ll find + two challengers each much like Almo in build and appearance. One dark + night Almo will slip off in charge of the men I delegate for that duty; + the two challengers will be guided so that each thinks he is fighting the + King of the Grove. Whichever survives will be rigged up in the customary + toggery. There will be a corpse properly offered on the altar. Nobody will + suspect anything.” + </p> + <p> + About a month later Lutorius conveyed to her a hint from the Emperor. She + at once applied for an audience. + </p> + <p> + Commodus was as expansive as a boy who has had a good day’s fishing. + </p> + <p> + “It’s all over,” he said, “and everything went off just as I foresaw and + planned. Almo was disgusted and tractable. We found two desperadoes of + suitable make. While we steered them at each other Almo slipped out. + Besides you, your two friends, your agents, Lutorius and myself, no one + knows that Almo was ever King of the Grove. I had him brought to the + Palace and Lucro and I had no end of good fun fencing with him. I had the + Senate pass a decree relieving him of all and sundry legal consequences of + having been sold as a slave in Britain. I had him choose a full staff of + the best possible aides, orderlies and such. He is off to Syria. I did not + send for you until I had word that he had not only sailed from Brundisium + but had actually landed at Dyrrhachium. I anticipate that the job I have + sent him on will take all of six years. Just about when your service is + drawing to an end he will return to Rome covered with glory and loaded + with loot. The nomads have been plundering our cities and have accumulated + in their strongholds immense amounts of treasure. He’ll get it back. + Meantime your mind should be at peace.” + </p> + <p> + Brinnaria was properly grateful and expressed her feelings fervently. + </p> + <p> + “And now,” said Commodus, “since I have done what you wanted and you are + pleased, may I ask a favor of you? You can do something for me that no one + else can and if you promise it will set my mind at rest to some extent.” + </p> + <p> + Brinnaria earnestly promised to do her best. + </p> + <p> + “I am troubled,” said the Emperor, “very much troubled. You know how + rumors get about among people, starting no one knows where; and how, when + such a notion is abroad, nothing on earth can counteract it. + </p> + <p> + “Well, there’s a story going about of an oracle, an oracle which says that + the Republic reached its acme under Trajan, that the Empire kept up its + prosperity under Hadrian and my Grandfather and Father, but that the glory + of Rome is fated to fade and wane and that its decline will date from my + taking over the Principiate. + </p> + <p> + “I am worried about it. I have sent to Delphi and Dodona and every other + oracle from Olisipo to Pattala, but I can find no record of any such + oracle having been uttered. The people, however, credit it as if it came + from Delphi. + </p> + <p> + “I’ve had a hundred oracles consulted about the matter, Delphi too. They + all hedge; not one is clear. But they all speak of an impending disaster + that may be averted by watchfulness. And they all hint darkly at some + danger to the Palladium; they all mention it somehow; most of them allude + unmistakably to the Temple of Vesta; some of them manifestly refer to the + Atrium; all of them speak of fire. + </p> + <p> + “Now I know that the sacred fire will be cared for by you and Manlia and + Gargilia and Numisia as well as ever it was since Numa. Causidiena is too + old to count and Terentia is too young, but in the four of you I have + complete confidence as far as the fire is concerned. + </p> + <p> + “About the Palladium I don’t feel so sure. The six terra-cotta chests are + so exactly alike and the five counterfeits are so like the real statue + that I am afraid the precautions taken to baffle an intruding thief might + confuse you Vestals in a crisis. + </p> + <p> + “Do you know the real Palladium from the five dummies?” + </p> + <p> + “I do,” said Brinnaria; “we all do. When I had been a Vestal five years + Causidiena showed me the Palladium. No Vestal is ever shown it until she + is over fifteen. Like all other young Vestals I was made to spend hours in + the inner storeroom, blindfolded, learning to recognize the real Palladium + by touch. + </p> + <p> + “The differences between the original and the copies are very small, + mostly in the carving of the folds of the gown. But every young Vestal is + drilled until she can recognize the genuine relic by touch, one hundred + times out of one hundred times, and until she can similarly discriminate + the terra-cotta chest that contains it from the other five chests. I could + tell the Palladium from the imitations instantly any time.” + </p> + <p> + “You relieve me,” said Commodus. “I’ve wanted to talk about this to all + you Vestals, but I’ve been ashamed to broach the subject. Since you + confided in me I feel no hesitation about confiding in you.” + </p> + <p> + “I promise you,” said Brinnaria, “that the Palladium will never be stolen, + lost, or come to any harm if I can prevent it, and I believe I can. I + pledge you my word.” + </p> + <p> + “I feel better,” said Commodus. + </p> + <p> + “And I want to say,” Brinnaria added, “that I have always felt a special + interest in the Palladium. Ever since I was old enough to share all the + duties and all the responsibilities of a Vestal, my feelings have been + particularly engaged with the Palladium. There is something tremendous and + crushing in the thought of being in charge of four of the seven objects on + the safety of which depends the safety of Rome and the prosperity of the + Republic. Whenever Causidiena has shown them to us younger Vestals I have + felt the strongest emotions at the sight of the jar containing the ashes + of Orestes, of the antique gold canister which protects the plain, + gold-mounted ivory sceptre of Priam, of the lapis-lazuli casket which + enshrines the tatters remaining of Ilione’s veil; but more than at sight + of them I have trembled with awe to look at that little statuette, no + longer than my forearm, and to think that if it were destroyed the Empire + would crumble and Rome would perish. You maybe sure I shall do all I can + to keep safe the precious treasure committed to my charge.” + </p> + <p> + “I feel sure you will,” said Commodus. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0027" id="link2H_4_0027"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + BOOK IV—THE REVULSION OF DELIGHT + </h2> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0020" id="link2HCH0020"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XX - ACCUSATION + </h2> + <p> + AFTER Almo’s redemption and his departure for Syria Brinnaria calmed down. + Her feverish activity abated and vanished. She ceased to take any interest + in the speed of her litter-bearers or of her carriage-teams. She took her + outings for their own sake, not merely to feel herself transported rapidly + from somewhere to anywhere. She kept an oversight of her stock-farms, but + she left the management of them almost entirely to her bailiffs. On music + she spent more of her time and in it she took an intenser delight. + </p> + <p> + Life in the Atrium altered chiefly through the growing up of Terentia, + whose fifteenth birthday was celebrated soon after Almo left Italy, and by + the steady waning of Causidiena’s eyesight. She could still recognize + familiar persons when between her and the strong light of a door or window + in the daytime; she could still place pieces of wood on the fire, if it + was burning well. But she was plainly verging on total blindness. Except + in so far as it was modified by pride in Terentia and solicitude for + Causidiena, life in the Atrium flowed on as it had for centuries. + </p> + <p> + Reports from Almo were uniformly good. From the first he displayed all the + qualifications requisite for a commander in chief. For him everything + promised well. + </p> + <p> + Under these conditions Brinnaria throve. Her natural vigor had always been + such that she never had showed any outward signs of the strain to which + she had been subjected. Uniformly she had looked handsome and healthy. But + now, if anything, she looked healthier and handsomer than ever. She was + then thirty-two years old. At ten years of age she had looked eighteen, at + eighteen she had looked twenty-four. At thirty-two she still looked no + more than twenty-five. Her hair was abundant and glossy, her eyes bright, + her cheeks rosy; she was neither slender nor plump, but a well-muscled, + graceful woman, decidedly young-looking, and altogether statuesque in + build and carriage, but very much alive in her springy suppleness. + </p> + <p> + About a year after Almo’s departure for Syria Lutorius came to see her one + morning, his face grave. + </p> + <p> + He indicated that they had best confer alone. In her tiny sanctum he came + straight to the point. + </p> + <p> + “Daughter,” he said, “my news is as bad as possible. You are formally + accused of the worst misconduct.” + </p> + <p> + “Why look so gloomy?” said Brinnaria. “That is comic, not tragic. Who’s + the fool accuser?” + </p> + <p> + “Calvaster, as you might conjecture,” he answered; “and grieve to have to + inform you,” he added, “that this is no laughing matter.” + </p> + <p> + “Pooh!” said Brinnaria. “I’m not a bit afraid of Calvaster. Aurelius gave + Commodus emphatic injunctions about me. And he went into details. Commodus + can’t have forgotten his reprimand to Calvaster nor his categorical + threat.” + </p> + <p> + “I fear,” said Lutorius, “that his father’s instructions on that + particular point are not well to the front of the Emperor’s mind.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, anyhow,” said Brinnaria, “everybody knows my preoccupation with + Almo and everybody saw my behavior in the Amphitheatre. I feel pretty safe + in respect to my general reputation. As to particulars, I’ve been + vigilantly careful to keep away from Almo. Except twice, in the presence + of Aurelius, I haven’t been within speaking distance of him in twenty-two + years. Between the fact that no one can prove that I have had anything to + do with him and the improbability that anyone would suspect me of interest + in any other man, let alone misconduct with any other man, I feel entirely + secure.” + </p> + <p> + Lutorius wagged his head. + </p> + <p> + “You are accused of misconduct with another man,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Absurd!” said Brinnaria, “easy to confute. Who is the man?” + </p> + <p> + “Not so easy to confute, I fear,” said Lutorius. “The man named is Quintus + Istorius Vocco.” + </p> + <p> + “Whew!” cried Brinnaria, springing to her feet and snapping her fingers. + “That is ingenious! That will give me trouble! I didn’t credit Calvaster + with that much sense. I never thought of anyone looking askance at my + relations with Quintus. I’ve never taken any precautions as to when I was + with him or how long or where. I’ve treated him as an honorary brother, + seeing I have no brothers of my own left alive. Flexinna has been such a + sister to me, that we have disregarded Quintus almost as if he were a + slave or a statue or a picture on the wall or another woman. Whew!” + </p> + <p> + “You perceive,” said Lutorius, “that the situation, in general, is very + serious?” + </p> + <p> + “I do, indeed!” admitted Brinnaria. + </p> + <p> + “Serious as it is in general,” he went on, “it is still more serious in + particular. Your excursion to Aricia was by no means as much a secret as + you have all along supposed. I, for instance, knew of it before you + confessed it to me.” + </p> + <p> + “How was that?” Brinnaria inquired. + </p> + <p> + “Numisia,” he explained, “saw you go out in Flexinna’s clothes and + recognized you. She entered your room and talked with Flexinna. She + summoned me and we conferred. We both loved you and we both believed in + you. We were solicitous for the cult, but we were nearly as much + solicitous for you. We agreed that we were almost fully warranted in + assuming your entire innocence of heart and that your impulsive behavior + would not alienate the good will of the Goddess. We decided to take it + upon ourselves to judge you blameless and to shield you. Utta was + instructed never to let you know that Numisia had seen Flexinna; Flexinna, + of course, fell in with our plans. Numisia made every arrangement that + would prevent any more from learning the secret and would make your return + easy. + </p> + <p> + “After you came back safe our decision seemed justified. I talked with + Vocco and learned that nothing had occurred to render your exposure + likely, except your encounter with Calvaster. As we heard nothing from + Calvaster we felt entirely successful. It turns out that he was only + biding his time. He has formally accused you before the College of + Pontiffs, alleging in general your long-continued familiarity with Vocco, + and, in particular, your having been outside of Rome after midnight in + Vocco’s company.” + </p> + <p> + “Whew,” Brinnaria exclaimed, “this is indeed serious! I feel myself + strangling or starving in a vaulted cell. What am I to do?” + </p> + <p> + “See Commodus first of all,” said Lutorius. + </p> + <p> + In the short interval since her former audience, those traits of which he + had previously shown the merest traces had rapidly developed in Commodus + into fixed characteristics. He had become what he remained until his end, + an odd mingling of loutish, peevish school-boy, easy-going, self-indulgent + athlete and superstitious, suspicious despot. + </p> + <p> + “To begin with,” he said, “I want you to understand that I like you, that + I haven’t forgotten that you rescued the retiarius, whopped Bambilio and + behaved like a trump when Father tested you. I’m for you. Your colts are + the cream of Italian stud-farms. You are a wonderful woman, all round. + But, as a Vestal, you have your weak points. I remember Father’s + instructions about you and I have all that in mind. Besides, I know that + I, as Chief Pontiff, have the right to make my own decision about any such + matter and to brush aside anybody else’s opinion and anybody else’s + interpretation of the evidence. Also my impulse is to make use of my + prerogative, dismiss the accusation against you, reiterate Father’s + warning to Calvaster and get the whole thing off my mind. I don’t like + Calvaster and I don’t value him an atom. They say he’s indispensable, but + if he irritates me ever so little more I’ll dispense with him and I’ll + wager the Republic will get on without him. You see that I am strong on + your side and almost on the point of deciding in your favor. + </p> + <p> + “But I hesitate. This case of yours worries me more than anything that has + come up since I took over the Principiate. I cannot make up my mind. + </p> + <p> + “I’m not the man I was a year ago. I’m shaken. Father told me that the + most wearing feature of his being Emperor was his recurring escapes from + assassination. I had my first escape just after your audience with me. It + jarred me horribly. The fool barely missed finishing me. The experience + made me take precautions and so no other miscreant has come so near to + doing for me. But the repetitions have grown monotonous. I always thought + highly of your lad, and I’ve often wondered how he managed to get any + sleep or swallow any food while he was King of the Grove, but I think + immeasurably more of him since I’ve been through something faintly + similar. He deserves the best of life and I hope he’ll get his heart’s + desire and marry you at the end of your service. + </p> + <p> + “You see how enthusiastically I am on your side. + </p> + <p> + “But there is much to be considered. + </p> + <p> + “If this were a question of judging a two-year-old filly I’d need no man’s + advice and I’d listen to no man’s opinion. I’m better fitted to judge a + horse than any man alive. It would be the same if it were a question of + refereeing a sword-bout or a boxing-mill or a wrestling-match or anything + of the kind. I know all about such things and I know that I am a judge + superior to anybody on earth. I’m a born all-round athlete and everybody + knows it and recognizes me as a past master. + </p> + <p> + “But as an Emperor, as Chief Pontiff, such is not at all the case. I feel + a fumbler, a bungler. I grope. I suspect that the judgment of my advisers + is better than mine. What is worse, I know that they think so. I am + surrounded by men pre-eminent in their specialties, who look on me as a + green boy placed by mere chance in a position which I fail to fill + adequately. They watch me like hawks, they expect to see me blunder, they + raise eyebrows at each other, they exchange glances. It rattles me. I wish + I had Alexander’s nerve. He was as young as I am and he brooked no + opposition, but rammed his opinions down his councillors’ throats from the + hour when he became King. But I haven’t his nerve, not by a long shot. I + had as good teachers as he had, too. But, Hercules be good to me, I never + could learn anything out of a book. + </p> + <p> + “As a charioteer, or a swordsman I’m as confident as a lion. As an Emperor + I’m as cowardly as a jackal. It’s the effect of the prophecies and + auguries and oracles and such. They all hint at my impairing the + prosperity of the Republic or diminishing the power of the Empire. It + gallies me when I see two old bald heads wink at each other; I know they + are thinking: + </p> + <p> + “‘What did I tell you! Here’s this young fool ruining Rome, just as the + oracle prophesies.’ It gets on my nerves. + </p> + <p> + “I daren’t decide the matter on my own judgment. + </p> + <p> + “Besides, there’s the danger of assassination hanging over me. All the men + who have tried so far have been highly educated magnates of lofty + principles. They seem to feel I am an unworthy Prince and that to kill me + would be a service to the state. It galls me to think of it, and me doing + my best for the Republic and the Empire, denying myself hours of pleasure + daily, missing races and all kinds of contests and toiling over documents + and estimates and statistics. But it is true. If I decide this case of + yours, ten to one any number of self-righteous nobles will say to + themselves: + </p> + <p> + “‘Here is this lout on the way to destroy the foundations of Rome’s + greatness. Rome must be saved from him. My duty is clear. He must be put + out of the way.’ Nice situation for me. I dare not let loose any such + possible fanaticism for my own destruction. + </p> + <p> + “And apart from any qualms about my qualifications to judge, apart from + any dread of the consequences to myself, of absolving you, there is my + sense of duty to Rome. Here are these cursed ambiguous oracles hinting + some harm to Rome, mentioning fire and the Temple of Vesta and the + Palladium. Perhaps what they mean is just the possible wrath of Vesta at + an unworthy priestess. How can I tell? + </p> + <p> + “You see why I hesitate?” + </p> + <p> + Brinnaria nodded. She judged it no time to speak, and, had she wished to + speak she could hardly have done so. + </p> + <p> + “I might not have hesitated,” Commodus resumed, “if Calvaster had come to + me. But he pops up in a full meeting of the College of Pontiffs and says + he saw you, after midnight and before dawn, on the Appian Road, between + Aricia and Bovillae, in a litter that didn’t belong to you and with Vocco + on horseback beside it. That puts all the Pontiffs in possession of the + facts and on the watch to see how I’ll decide, if I do decide. Calvaster + made sure of proving those facts, for he had two highly respectable and + respected nobles to swear that they were with him and saw Vocco and the + litter and knew the litter for Nemestronia’s. That he had any number of + witnesses to swear to the frequency of your visits to Vocco’s house, your + habit of dining there and the freedom with which you treated him. + </p> + <p> + “My impulse was to tell Calvaster I disbelieved any story he fathered, + that I had my Father’s instructions discrediting him, that I knew all + about your intimacy with Flexinna and her husband, that I knew all about + your excursion to Aricia and why you went and that I approved and that was + the end of it. I have told you why I hesitated. + </p> + <p> + “But I was inclined that way. I have talked with Lutorius and Causidiena + and Numisia. They feel towards you as my Father felt. They believe in you + and in your worthiness as a priestess, and they minimize your + irregularities. I sent for Flexinna and talked with her. She deserves + consideration, if only because she is the mother of the largest family to + be found among our nobility, even among our gentry. She hoots at the idea + of anything improper between you and Vocco, in act or thought. She + evidently tells the truth. It is plain that she and Vocco are a devoted + pair, that you and he never did anything wrong or thought of anything + wrong. I sent for Vocco and talked with him. I am all but clear what I + should do, but I am not quite clear. + </p> + <p> + “Now, there are only two ways to settle this: one is for me to settle it + myself and out of hand. The other is to have a formal trial of you before + the College of Pontiffs. + </p> + <p> + “If you are tried you’ll be condemned. All you can say of the innocence of + your intimacy with Vocco, all you can say of the innocence of your regard + for Almo, all I can say of my Father’s high esteem of you, of his + injunctions regarding you, will not avail to save you. The Pontiffs will + not heed the considerations which were so plain to Father and are so plain + to me and Lutorius and Numisia. They will say it makes no difference + whether you went to Aricia because of solicitude for Almo or on account of + an intrigue with Vocco. They will hold that such a manifestation of + interest in Almo proves you almost as unfit to be a Vestal as if it were + certain that you were philandering with Vocco. + </p> + <p> + “In particular they will hold that there might be room to absolve you had + you openly gone to save Almo in your full regalia and in your own + carriage, or your own litter, with your lictor before you; but that while + the fact of your being out of Rome all night in a litter is damning + enough, the appearance of duplicity and underhanded secrecy given to the + proceeding by your being disguised in another woman’s clothing and carried + in a borrowed litter makes terribly against you. + </p> + <p> + “Of course I could impose my will on the Pontiffs, but I should hesitate + to override their decision, even more than I hesitate to decide the case + myself, and for the reasons I have given. + </p> + <p> + “Yet I must say I could forget my dread of assassination and ignore any + opinionated contempt I might evoke, if I could be sure in my own heart + that I am doing what is best for Rome; I should be as arrogant an Emperor + as ever Domitian was if only I felt confident that my instincts are right. + My instincts all urge me to act as an Emperor and a Pontifex Maximus and + settle this matter out of hand, once and for all. + </p> + <p> + “But I hesitate. I can’t make up my mind. All I need is a sign that you + are as acceptable to Vesta as I believe you are. I have tried to satisfy + myself, to elicit some sign of the Goddess’ will, but no sign has been + vouchsafed me. I’ve had the Sibylline Books consulted, which is a trying + matter with Calvaster left out of the consulting board; I have sent to + every oracle within reach, have put questions to all the sibyls in all the + caves of Italy, have called in a rabble of Etruscan soothsayers, every + haruspex and auspex in Etruria, I believe. They all hedge. They are all + vague. They are all indefinite. They give me no help! + </p> + <p> + “Now, I like you; I like Almo; I like both of you and I respect you; I + believe in you. I’d hate to wake up and call for any breakfast I had a + whim for and look at it and smell it and think of you, all alone in the + dark in a vaulted cell six foot under the rubbish of that garbage-dump out + by the Colline Gate. And I hate the thought of the bother and worry of a + trial. I want to put my foot down and assert my will and be done with it + all. But, as I’ve said a dozen times already, I hesitate. Chiefly I + hesitate because I am resolute to do my duty to Rome according to my + lights. I feel I am right, but I am not quite man enough to follow my + feelings. If I could have some plain sign that Vesta understands and + condones your past irregularities as I do, that Vesta approves of you and + is pleased with you as I am, if I could feel Vesta corroborating my + feelings, if I could evoke an unmistakable token of her will, I’d not + hesitate. I’d scout the suggestion of a trial; I’d squelch Calvaster; I’d + absolve you.” + </p> + <p> + Brinnaria looked straight into his goggling, bloodshot eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Would you consider it an unmistakable sign,” she said, “a plain token of + my acceptability to my Goddess, of her esteem for me, if Vesta gave me + power to carry water in a sieve?” + </p> + <p> + Commodus goggled his eyes at her even more than habitually. + </p> + <p> + “Carry water in a sieve,” he cried, “as Tuccia did?” + </p> + <p> + “There is a legend,” said Brinnaria sedately, “that some Vestal once + proved her holiness by carrying water in a sieve. And the story is + connected with Tuccia in popular tradition. But if it was ever done some + other Vestal did it. Poor Tuccia was innocent, as far as I can judge from + the minutes of her trial. But she was not absolved, by intervention of + Vesta or of her judges. She was condemned and buried. You can read the + verdict as well as the details of the proceedings in the records. And what + is left of poor Tuccia is now in one of those tiny vaulted cells under the + Wicked Field. You will find, along with the documents of her case, the + bill for the wages of the mason who completed the vault after she had + descended the ladder and the affidavits of the sentinels who patrolled the + spot day and night for a month, according to custom.” + </p> + <p> + “Never mind who did it or didn’t do it, or whether it ever was done at all + before,” said Commodus, “if I saw you carry water in a sieve I’d hold it a + plain sign of Vesta’s particular favor to you, of your special + acceptability to her, of the correctness of my intuitions about you and + about this whole wretched business. + </p> + <p> + “Do I understand you to offer to demonstrate your innocence by carrying + water in a sieve?” + </p> + <p> + “That is my offer!” said Brinnaria. + </p> + <p> + “But,” he protested, “the thing can’t be done. It’s impossible! Better + stand your chance of a trial.” + </p> + <p> + “I am sure,” said Brinnaria, “that my Goddess will not desert me. I know I + am innocent and acceptable to her. She knows me and will give me the power + to prove my worthiness. She will no fail me. I know I can do it.” + </p> + <p> + “Do I understand you to offer to do it in broad daylight before me and the + whole College of Pontiffs, Calvaster and all?” + </p> + <p> + “In sight of all Rome,” said Brinnaria, “if all Rome could crowd near + enough to see.” + </p> + <p> + “Do I understand you,” said the Emperor, “to stake your life on the + venture, and, just as you would expect full absolution if you succeed, so + to expect a rigid and severely stern trial before me and the College of + Pontiffs, with your failure counting against you, if you fail in the + attempt?” + </p> + <p> + “That is my understanding,” said Brinnaria, unflinching, her clear eyes on + his face, her cheeks neither flushed nor blanched, her expression calm, + her pose easy, her voice unfaltering. + </p> + <p> + “Hercules be good to me!” cried Commodus. “That is a first class game + sporting offer! I like you, girl! I like the idea. I see my way to a + decision. I glimpse a method of banishing my hesitation. I’ll take you. If + you agree, clasp hands, like a man.” + </p> + <p> + Brinnaria stood up and put out her hand. + </p> + <p> + “For life or death,” said the Emperor. + </p> + <p> + They clasped hands. + </p> + <p> + “Done!” said Commodus. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0021" id="link2HCH0021"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXI - ORDEAL + </h2> + <p> + THE next day Commodus, officially, in his full regalia as Emperor and + Pontifex Maximus, convoyed by a magnificent retinue of gorgeously + apparelled gentlemen-in-waiting, equerries, aides, orderlies and pages, + and of gaudily uniformed guards, paid a formal visit to the Atrium. + </p> + <p> + He was received by Lutorius, Causidiena and Numisia, who had been in close + conference most of the previous afternoon and until late at night and + again most of the morning from dawn. Causidiena, on account of her failing + sight, was escorted by Manlia and Gargilia. + </p> + <p> + After the exchange of ceremonious greetings Commodus asked: + </p> + <p> + “Where is Brinnaria? Why isn’t she here?” + </p> + <p> + “We thought best,” Causidiena replied, “that she should not be present at + our conference.” + </p> + <p> + “As to part of it I quite agree,” said the Emperor. “Fairness to her + requires that much of what we have to say should be said in her absence, + as she must be free from any suspicion of participation in some of our + arrangements. But part of what we have to say she must hear and some + details I must talk over with her. Send for her, and meanwhile, sit down, + all of you, sit down, I say.” + </p> + <p> + Manlia and Gargilia departed to summon Brinnaria. + </p> + <p> + When she came and had seated herself the Emperor said: + </p> + <p> + “I’ve been thinking over this matter ever since you left me. Precious + little else did I do yesterday and mighty little sleep did I get last + night. I’m not clear yet altogether, but I see daylight on several points. + </p> + <p> + “What you propose is more or less like interpreting the significance of + the appearances seen in the victim’s intestines after a sacrifice for a + specific object; it amounts to asking a definite question of your Goddess + and getting a yes or no answer. + </p> + <p> + “That is one way to regard it and seems to me correct from the religious + point of view. + </p> + <p> + “But there is another point of view and another way to regard it, not less + correct, it seems to me. + </p> + <p> + “This is a sort of a sporting proposal, like a dicing contest, or any kind + of match or wager. + </p> + <p> + “Now in such matters, it is important, it is of the utmost importance, + that there should be no differences of opinion between the principals or + among the backers or lookers-on after the contest or during its progress; + particularly that no unexpected differences of opinion should crop up + after starting the set of actions which determine the decision. To avoid + all such untoward possibilities, every detail must be settled in advance + before the matter comes to a test. + </p> + <p> + “Now, treating your appeal to Vesta not only as a solemn invocation of the + Goddess, but also as a sporting chance, I intend to have a definite, + unquestionable understanding beforehand on every debatable point. + </p> + <p> + “You see what I mean? + </p> + <p> + “Some of the points we others will settle without you, but we shall begin + with those which you must settle or share in settling. + </p> + <p> + “I and Lutorius, Causidiena and Numisia are to be the witnesses to the + stipulations and our agreement on any point is to prove that point. I + propose to make it impossible for there to be any misunderstanding or + disagreement among the four of us, to make it certain that we four think, + speak and act unanimously on all points whatever. Nothing must be assumed, + everything must be explicit. + </p> + <p> + “To begin with, is this a fair statement of your proposal? + </p> + <p> + “You maintain that you are a worthy priestess of Vesta and wholly + acceptable to her. You propose to demonstrate this by asking of her the + power to carry water in a sieve in the sight of the whole College of + Pontiffs and of such other persons as I may see fit to have present at the + test. If you fail you will expect to be tried for misconduct. If you + succeed you will expect to be then and there absolved from all accusations + and imputations connected with your deportment or behavior. + </p> + <p> + “Is that a fair statement of your proposal?” + </p> + <p> + “It is,” Brinnaria replied. + </p> + <p> + “What kind of water do you propose to carry?” Commodus asked. “Spring + water, rain-water from a tank, aqueduct-water, or what?” + </p> + <p> + “I assumed,” said Brinnaria, “that I would carry water from the river, in + accordance with the legend of my predecessor: Father Tiber being himself + one of our gods, one of the sternest to evildoers, yet to the righteous + most kindly and helpful.” + </p> + <p> + “Excellent!” said the Emperor. “My notion precisely. That is settled. I + accordingly appoint as the place of your test the Marble Quay, since the + porticoes flanking it shut out the mob and protect the Quay from intruding + eyes, and since the space enclosed by them is ample for the assemblage of + the College of Pontiffs, the Senate and the Court officials. Are you + satisfied with that place?” + </p> + <p> + “I am,” said Brinnaria. + </p> + <p> + “In what kind of a sieve do you propose to carry water?” came the next + question. + </p> + <p> + “A sieve,” said Brinnaria, “is a sieve.” + </p> + <p> + “Not at all,” Commodus objected. “There are sieves and sieves.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, of course,” Brinnaria reflected, “I do not mean a broken, worn-out + or imperfect sieve, nor one incompetently made.” + </p> + <p> + “Just so,” the Emperor amplified. “You propose to carry water in a sieve + with a circular rim, without any hole, crevice or crack in it and with a + web stretched taut on the rim, evenly woven and of the finest mesh.” + </p> + <p> + “That expresses my unformed idea,” said Brinnaria. + </p> + <p> + “Did you mean a linen sieve,” the Emperor asked, “or a horse-hair sieve, + or a metal sieve?” + </p> + <p> + “That,” said Brinnaria, “can make no difference, if it fulfills the + conditions you have just specified. I leave the choice of material to + you.” + </p> + <p> + “That is the correct attitude for you,” said Commodus, “and does you + credit. + </p> + <p> + “And now I think we four will settle the other details without you. Do you + agree to that?” + </p> + <p> + “No!” Brinnaria objected. “I think I should be a party to the settling of + several other details.” + </p> + <p> + “What are they?” Commodus queried. + </p> + <p> + “In the first place,” said Brinnaria, “there should be the clearest + understanding as to how much water I must carry.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean?” the Emperor asked. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” Brinnaria expounded, “a drop of water the size of my thumb-nail + would not be enough, I presume. That would not be considered as + demonstrating my innocence. You would expect me to carry more water than + that. On the other hand, to exact that I carry a sieve full of water to + the top of the rim, as if it were a pan, would be unfair to me.” + </p> + <p> + “I see,” said Commodus. “I should lay down the condition that the water + must cover the web of the sieve entirely and touch the rim all round, and + that it should be a finger-breadth deep. Deeper than that it need not be, + that depth would prove the favor of your Goddess as plainly as if you + carried all Tiber. Is that all? If not, what next?” + </p> + <p> + “Next,” she said, “it ought to be definitely agreed how far I must carry + the sieve with the water in it.” + </p> + <p> + “You do not need to carry it at all,” said Commodus. “If you stand up and + hold the sieve of water as high as your chin, you will have proved the + favor of your Goddess for you.” + </p> + <p> + Lutorius, tactful and bland, here spoke up. + </p> + <p> + “Your Majesty,” he said, “I doubt whether that will confute Brinnaria’s + enemies or even convince the majority of the Pontiffs.” + </p> + <p> + “What does it signify?” the Emperor demanded, “whether anybody else is + convinced, if I am satisfied?” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing whatever, your Majesty,” said Lutorius, “if you take that view of + the matter.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps,” Commodus admitted, “there may be something in your suggestion. + Suppose we make the stipulation that she must carry the sieve of water + from the brink of the river to the top of the steps.” + </p> + <p> + “The number of steps,” Lutorius reminded him, “varies at different points + along the Marble Quay.” + </p> + <p> + “True,” the Emperor admitted. “Let us specify the middle stair, which has + seven steps, if I mistake not. Do you agree to that?” he asked Brinnaria. + </p> + <p> + “I agree,” she concluded. + </p> + <p> + After Brinnaria had gone, Commodus resumed: + </p> + <p> + “Now we must decide,” he said, “what kind of a sieve she is to use.” + </p> + <p> + Causidiena spoke up, her all but sightless eyes strained towards the + Emperor. + </p> + <p> + “Lutorius and Numisia and I have talked over that question,” she said. “It + seems to me that it would be unfair to her for us to decide on a metal + sieve. They are always coarse and the apertures between the wires are + comparatively large. It seems to us that no one could carry water in a + copper sieve, not even by a miracle. + </p> + <p> + “The meshes of linen sieves are the smallest of any made, but the linen + does not seem to have much sustaining power. We feel that with a linen + sieve not only Brinnaria would be, as Lutorius expressed it, severely + handicapped for water-carrying, but that, as he also said, I fear + irreverently, that Vesta herself would be too much handicapped in respect + to miracle-working.” + </p> + <p> + “A mighty sensible remark,” Commodus cut in, “and one with which I concur. + You are more of a sport than I thought you, Lutorius.” + </p> + <p> + “Considering only the construction of sieves,” Causidiena continued, “we + were of the opinion that a horsehair sieve would be the fairest. The hairs + are coarser than linen threads and finer than copper wires and the + apertures between are similarly of medium size, as sieves go. + </p> + <p> + “Besides, we have ascertained that horse-hair sieves are by far the most + usual kind. We are told that in most sieve-shops in Rome all the linen + sieves and copper sieves sold do not amount to one-third the horsehair + sieves.” + </p> + <p> + “That ought to settle that point,” said Commodus. “No one can cavil if we + use the commonest kind of sieve, of medium fineness and of normal make. + </p> + <p> + “As to the question of procuring one we must arrange that Brinnaria may + feel wholly secure that it has not been tampered with by some enemy of + hers, and, on the other hand, that all persons whatever, to whomsoever + hostile or friendly, or wholly indifferent, may be at once and forever + certain that neither Brinnaria nor any partisan of hers has had any access + to it before the test. Have you any suggestions to make?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” Causidiena replied. “Lutorius and Numisia and I have debated that + point and have come to a conclusion which we think you might approve. The + best sieve-maker in Rome is Caius Truttidius Falcifer, a tenant of one of + our shops on the Holy Street. Not only are his wares reputed the best-made + sieves produced in Rome, but he sells more than anyone else and carries a + larger stock than can be found in the possession of any other dealer. He + is sieve-maker to the Atrium, like his father before him. His horse-hair + sieves are the closest and finest of their kind. We use them to sift the + flour for our ceremonial cakes. I had some brought to show you. Where are + they, Numisia?” + </p> + <p> + Numisia rose and took from an onyx console a flattish dish-like basket of + gilt wicker, containing a number of square cakes. In size and on account + of the ridges on them, each looked much like the joined four fingers of a + man’s hand. + </p> + <p> + Commodus took one, broke it and munched a piece. + </p> + <p> + “Very good,” he said. “If the excellence of the pastry demonstrates the + virtue of the sieve let us consider it proved. I do not see, however, what + the cakes have to do with it. But I am entirely willing to agree that + Brinnaria is to use a horse-hair sieve made by Truttidius. + </p> + <p> + “Now, how are we to select the particular sieve so as to convince all + concerned that it is a normal sieve chosen at random and not one doctored + for the occasion?” + </p> + <p> + “Our idea,” said Lutorius, “was to arrange that Truttidius be present with + a number of horse-hair sieves, practically with his whole stock of his + best, and that one of those be chosen before the whole College of + Pontiffs, perhaps by your Majesty, perhaps by some one of the altar-boys, + blindfolded, if you like that idea, or in any other manner which seems + good to you.” + </p> + <p> + “That,” said the Emperor, “is an excellent suggestion. But would not there + be some difficulty in carrying to the Marble Quay so large a number of + sieves at once, particularly just when it will be crowded with notables + and the neighboring squares and streets choked, even jammed, with their + equipages? We should not want to present a numerous gang of sieve-carrying + slaves. But if more than two sieves are trusted to each slave, there will + be danger of the sieves being damaged in transit. We might find it + difficult to select one sufficiently perfect.” + </p> + <p> + “We have thought of that,” said Lutorius, “and have devised a solution + which we think you might accept. I have arranged to have Truttidius convey + some eighty horse-hair sieves to the water-front of the Marble Quay in a + flat-bottomed row-boat, such as are used for bringing vegetables to the + quays of the Forum Olitorium. The oarsmen can keep the boat nearly + stationary off any point of the Quay indicated, and the selection can be + made in sight of the official assemblage of all the Senators and + Pontiffs.” + </p> + <p> + “That,” said Commodus, “is an excellent suggestion. Have it carried out + and see to it that only we four know of it and that no one but the + sieve-maker and his assistants have anything to do with conveying the + sieves from his shop to the boat and that only the boatmen, the + sieve-maker and his assistants are in the boat, that no one else has been + in the boat. I’ll detail any number of men you ask for to escort the + sieve-maker and his convoy. + </p> + <p> + “I’ll have the river policed and all possible traffic suspended. Any craft + that are let through the cordons of police-boats will be made to follow + the other side of the river. We’ll have nothing off the Marble Quay except + the boat-load of sieves and the patrol-boats.” He sighed. + </p> + <p> + “I believe,” he said, “that that is all except fixing the day and the + hour.” + </p> + <p> + “I suggest,” said Lutorius, “the day after to-morrow, the eighteenth day + before the Kalends of September, the twenty-third anniversary of + Brinnaria’s entrance into the order of Vestals, and, I regret to say, the + second anniversary of her night expedition to Aricia.” + </p> + <p> + “That suits me,” said Commodus. + </p> + <p> + “And the hour?” Numisia queried. + </p> + <p> + “Noon,” said the Emperor. + </p> + <p> + Accordingly it was settled that Brinnaria was to face her ordeal at midday + on August fifteenth of the nine hundred and thirty-seventh year after the + founding of Rome, 184 of our era. + </p> + <p> + That night Numisia, conferring with Brinnaria, concluded by saying: + </p> + <p> + “Truttidius enjoined me to remind you to be very careful not to touch the + web of the sieve with your fingers. Also he says that, if anybody’s finger + touches the web of the sieve as it is being handed to you, you are to + decline to accept it and to demand another.” + </p> + <p> + “I understand that already,” said Brinnaria. + </p> + <p> + The Marble Quay was that part of the embankment along the left bank of the + Tiber which was used by the Emperors of Rome for embarking on their state + barges and for landing from them whenever they took part in one of the + gorgeous river processions. Also it was used by all members of the + Imperial household for starting on excursions by water or when returning + from them. It was situated below the north corner of the Aventine Hill, + not far from the square end of the Circus Maximus, close to the round + Temple of Hercules and near the meat market. Every trace of it has long + since vanished, its precious marbles having offered most tempting plunder + for builders of every century since the fall of Rome. + </p> + <p> + In its glory it was a space about two hundred feet long and nearly a + hundred feet wide, bounded by a gentle hollow curve along the river, and + enclosed on the other three sides by magnificent colonnaded porticoes. + </p> + <p> + The shafts of the columns were of black Lucullean marble and fully forty + feet high. Their capitals and bases were of green porphyry, the + entablature they carried of red porphyry and the wall behind them of + yellow Numidian marble. The area was paved with slabs of pinkish and light + greenish marble while the copings of the Quay and the steps leading down + to the water were of coral red marble, a building material extremely rare + and very costly. + </p> + <p> + At noon on the fifteenth of August the area, lined all round just before + the colonnade by a double rank of Pretorian guards, gorgeous in their + trappings of red gloss leather, gilded metal and scarlet cloth, was + thronged with Senators, Pontiffs and officials of the Imperial Court, to + the number of nearly a thousand. + </p> + <p> + Midway of the crowd, near the head of the middle water-stair, a part of + the pavement, ringed about by the lucky dignitaries in the front row of + spectators, was left free. In it, by the water-steps, were grouped a + selection of Pontiffs, all the Flamens, four Vestals and the Emperor. The + yellow river was almost free of craft; along the other bank some barges + were being warped up-stream; nearby only patrol boats were visible. + </p> + <p> + Brinnaria, standing alert and springily erect, her white habit dazzlingly + fresh, fresh as the white flowers clasped at her bosom by her big pearl + brooch, looked like a care-free young matron who had had a long night’s + sleep and a good breakfast. Commodus, looking her up nd down, mentally + contrasted her easy pose and the rosiness of her smiling face with the + tense statuesqueness and austere, almost grim countenances of her three + colleagues. He noticed that her three-strand pearl necklace seemed to + become her more than theirs became the other three and that she wore her + square, white headdress with an indefinable difference, that there was a + difference in the very hang of her headband and in the way its tassels lay + on her bosom. He noted two unusual adjuncts to her attire; a long, rough + towel through her girdle and a gold sacrificial dipper thrust in beside + it. + </p> + <p> + “Are you ready?” he asked her. + </p> + <p> + She looked him full in the face and slowly raised her left arm, stiffly + straight, hand extended, palm down, until her finger-tips were almost + level with his face and not a foot from it. Holding it so at full stretch + she asked: + </p> + <p> + “What do you think of that? Am I ready?” + </p> + <p> + Commodus regarded her finger-tips, her face, and again her finger-tips: + </p> + <p> + “Hercules be good to me!” he exclaimed. “Not a tremble, not a waver, not a + quiver. You are mighty cool. You’ve plenty of confidence. I take it you + are ready.” + </p> + <p> + “I am,” said Brinnaria. “Where is that sieve?” + </p> + <p> + From behind her spoke Calvaster. “I have a sieve here.” + </p> + <p> + Commodus rounded on him like an angry mastiff. + </p> + <p> + “Who authorized you to speak?” he demanded. “You act as if you were + Emperor. You are merely a minor Pontiff. Remember that and speak when you + are spoken to.” + </p> + <p> + Calvaster, abashed but persistent, stammered: + </p> + <p> + “I merely offered a sieve.” + </p> + <p> + “None of your concern to offer a sieve,” Commodus growled. “You insult all + of us and me most of all. Do you take me to be so unfair as to subject + this lady to her test with a sieve brought and offered by her accuser?” + </p> + <p> + Calvaster was dumb. + </p> + <p> + “Show me that sieve,” the Emperor commanded. + </p> + <p> + Calvaster produced from under his robes a copper-hooped sieve strung with + linen. + </p> + <p> + Commodus handed it to Brinnaria. + </p> + <p> + “What do you think of that sieve?” he inquired. + </p> + <p> + Brinnaria held it up to the light and looked through the web; held it + level, upside down, and looked along the web. + </p> + <p> + “It is very irregularly woven,” she pronounced; “some of the meshes are + three times the size of others. It is very unevenly strung, it bags in two + places.” She held it up to her face a moment. + </p> + <p> + “Also,” she concluded, “it has been scrubbed with wood-ashes and + fuller’s-earth. Vesta herself could not carry water in that sieve.” + </p> + <p> + “Give it back to me!” the Emperor ordered. + </p> + <p> + He eyed it as she had, sniffed at it like a dog at a mouse-hole, and + glared over it at Calvaster. + </p> + <p> + “You advertise yourself to all the world,” he snarled, “as an unworthy + Pontiff and a contemptible caitiff. You attempt to entrap me into the + meanest unfairness! You pose as a public-spirited citizen solicitous about + the sanctity of the worship of Vesta and I find you a pettifogging wretch + actuated by spite and malice. You desire not a fair test, but the ruin of + a woman you are low-minded enough to hate. Eugh!” With one of his excesses + of unconventional energy he flung the sieve far out over the river. It + sailed whirling through the air, splashed in the water and sank out of + sight. + </p> + <p> + “For the price of one dried bean, I’d order you thrown after it,” said + Commodus to Calvaster. + </p> + <p> + He beckoned one of his aides. + </p> + <p> + “Signal that boat!” he commanded. + </p> + <p> + A broad blunt-ended cargo-boat, rather guided than propelled by its four + heavy oars, came drifting down with the current. Its gunwale was hung with + horsehair sieves. Up from the thwarts stood many poles, each with + cross-pieces, every cross-piece hung with sieves. Its oarsmen edged it + nearer and nearer to the Quay and slowed its motion until it was almost + stationary opposite the stair, scarcely an arm’s-length from the lowest + step. + </p> + <p> + When it was close the Emperor spoke to Numisia: + </p> + <p> + “Choose any sieve you see.” + </p> + <p> + Numisia indicated the sieve on the forward arm of the second cross-piece + of the fourth pole from the bow. + </p> + <p> + Lutorius, at the Emperor’s bidding, called the directions to Truttidius, + who, bowed and bent with age until he looked almost like a clothed ape, + wizened so that his leathery, wrinkled face was like a dried apple, was + standing near the middle of the boat. + </p> + <p> + “Go down the steps,” said Commodus to Brinnaria, “and yourself take the + sieve from him.” Brinnaria, on the lower step, reached over the water, and + grasped the rim of the sieve which Truttidius held out to her. She held it + up to the light. Its web was of black and white horse-hair, each thread + alternately of a different color. It was made for bolting the finest flour + and the tiny apertures between the hairs were all of a size and scarcely + broader than the hairs themselves. + </p> + <p> + She scrutinized the sieve from several angles and then looked back at the + Emperor. + </p> + <p> + “Are you satisfied with that sieve?” he queried. + </p> + <p> + “I am satisfied with this sieve,” spoke Brinnaria, loud and clear. + </p> + <p> + “I want to see close,” said Commodus, coming down the steps. + </p> + <p> + Brinnaria, holding the sieve in both hands, lifted it towards the blue + sky. “O Vesta!” she prayed aloud, “O my dear Goddess, manifest your + divinity, succor your votary! To prove me pleasing and acceptable in your + eyes, grant me the miraculous power to carry up these stairs water from + this river in the sieve which I hold!” She lowered her arms and holding + the sieve in her left hand knelt on one knee on the lowest step, spread + her towel over the other knee and took from her belt the sacrificial + dipper. With that she scooped up half a ladleful of Tiber water. On the + towel spread over her knee she carefully dried the bottom of the dipper. + </p> + <p> + Holding it just outside the rim of the sieve she glanced up at Commodus. + </p> + <p> + “Go on,” he said. + </p> + <p> + She smiled. + </p> + <p> + “If you want to see me fail,” she said, “talk to me. If you want to see me + carry water in this sieve, let me alone.” + </p> + <p> + “I’m dumb*,” said he. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *"Dumb” at this time meant unable to speak. —PG editor +</pre> + <p> + She eyed the sieve to make sure that it was level and steady. Commodus, + also eyeing it, judged it both steady and level. + </p> + <p> + She brought the ladle over the rim of the sieve and lowered it until it + all but touched the middle of the web. + </p> + <p> + She tilted the ladle slowly, slowly she poured its contents over its lip. + </p> + <p> + She lifted it clear: + </p> + <p> + On the web of the sieve lay a silver disk, as it were, of water, + round-edged and shining. + </p> + <p> + “Hercules be good to me!” cried Commodus. + </p> + <p> + “Keep quiet!” she admonished him. “You’ll put me off.” She dipped up a + ladleful of water, flirted half the water out, wiped the bottom of the + ladle on her knee and brought it cautiously over the sieve, cautiously she + lowered it until it nearly touched the shining disk of water, cautiously + she tilted it, cautiously she let its contents flow over its lip. + </p> + <p> + The disk of water spread. She repeated the process. The disk of water + spread. + </p> + <p> + Again and again she repeated the process. + </p> + <p> + The disk of water became a film hiding nearly all the web of the sieve. + </p> + <p> + Commodus noticed that, as she dipped up each ladleful of water, she + watched the dipper out of the corner of her eye, as it were, with a sort + of partial, sidelong glance, but that all the while her gaze was intent on + the sieve. + </p> + <p> + He noticed other details of her procedure. + </p> + <p> + “You never pour twice in the same place,” he commented. + </p> + <p> + Rigid as a statue, the sieve in her hand as unmoving as if clamped in a + vise, Brinnaria spoke: + </p> + <p> + “If I take my eyes off the sieve,” she rebuked him, “it will tilt in my + hand and the water will run through. If you make me look round you’ll + destroy me. You are not fair.” + </p> + <p> + “I’m dumb,” said Commodus again, apologetically. + </p> + <p> + As she poured in the next dipper-load, the film of water touched the rim + of the sieve at one point. + </p> + <p> + Commodus heard a sharp intake of Brinnaria’s breath. + </p> + <p> + The next half-ladleful she poured near the spot where the water touched + the sieve-rim. + </p> + <p> + Round near the hoop she dribbled in half-ladleful after half-ladleful + until the web of the sieve was entirely covered. + </p> + <p> + She had moved slowly from the first dip into the river. But now, since she + could not see any part of the web of the sieve, she moved yet more slowly. + </p> + <p> + Commodus began to be impatient. + </p> + <p> + “That is plenty of water,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Do you, as Pontifex Maximus,” she uttered, “certify that the water now in + this sieve is as deep as you stipulated?” + </p> + <p> + “I,” said Commodus in a loud voice, “as Emperor and as Pontifex Maximus, + here certify before all men that the water now supported by the web of + that sieve is enough to demonstrate the favor of Vesta towards you and + your impeccable integrity.” + </p> + <p> + “Back away,” said Brinnaria, “I’m going to stand up.” She thrust the + handle of the ladle through her belt, brushed the towel from her knee and + with her right hand also she grasped the sieve. Holding it now in both + hands, her eyes on it, she very slowly, inch by inch, rose to her feet. + When she was erect, she very slowly drew back her left foot until her two + feet were close together. + </p> + <p> + “Back away,” she repeated. “I’m going to turn round.” Slowly she pivoted + on her firm feet until she was standing with her back to the river. + </p> + <p> + Commodus at the top of the steps stared down at her. + </p> + <p> + “Back away,” she reiterated, “I’m coming up the steps.” Up the steps she + came, very slowly. Planted on her right foot she would almost + imperceptibly raise and advance her left foot. When it was firm on the + step, she would gradually shift her weight to that foot, would very + deliberately straighten up and very carefully draw up her right foot until + both feet were together. So standing she would breathe several times + before she repeated the process. + </p> + <p> + When she was standing firm on the top step on the level of the Quay + platform, she raised both hands until the sieve was level with her chin. + </p> + <p> + “You have won,” Commodus exclaimed. “You have demonstrated your Goddess’s + favor. The test is over.” + </p> + <p> + An arm’s length away stood Calvaster. + </p> + <p> + “It’s a trick!” he cried. “That is not water.” + </p> + <p> + “Not water!” cried Brinnaria. + </p> + <p> + All the forgotten tomboy of her childish girlhood surged up within her. + The obsolete hoydenishness inside her exploded. + </p> + <p> + “Not water!” she cried, and smashed the sieve over his head. + </p> + <p> + The rim on his shoulders, his head protruding from the torn eb, frayed + ends of broken horse-hair sticking up round his neck, the water trickling + down his clothing and dripping from his thin locks, from his big flaring + ears, from the end of his long nose, his face rueful and stultified, he + presented a sufficiently absurd appearance. + </p> + <p> + Commodus, like the overgrown boy he was, burst into roars of laughter. The + Pontiffs laughed, the Senators laughed, even Manlia and Gargilia laughed. + </p> + <p> + “It’s a trick!” Calvaster repeated. + </p> + <p> + On the face of Commodus mirth gave place to wrath. + </p> + <p> + “Isn’t that enough water for you?” he roared. “Anybody would think, the + way you behave, that I am the minor Pontiff and you the Emperor. I’ll + teach you!” He turned and beckoned a centurion of the guard. + </p> + <p> + With his file of men he came on the double quick. + </p> + <p> + “Seize that man!” the Emperor commanded. + </p> + <p> + Two of the Pretorians gripped Calvaster by the elbows. + </p> + <p> + “March him out there to the edge,” came the next order, the Emperor + gesturing towards the quay-front on his right. + </p> + <p> + At the brink of the platform the Pretorians paused. + </p> + <p> + “Grab him with both your hands,” the Emperor commanded, “and pitch him + into the river.” Over went Calvaster with a mighty splash. + </p> + <p> + As all Romans were excellent swimmers he came to the surface almost at + once. A few strokes in front of him was the boat with the sieves. To it he + swam and Truttidius hauled him aboard and located him on a thwart. + </p> + <p> + After the general merriment had waned and the laughter had abated Commodus + faced the assemblage and raised his hand. + </p> + <p> + Into the ensuing silence he spoke not as a blundering lad nor as a + sportsman, but as a ruler. For the moment, in fact, he looked all the + Emperor. + </p> + <p> + “We have all beheld,” he said, “a miracle marvellous and convincing. As + Prince of the Republic, as Chief Pontiff of Rome, I proclaim this + Priestess cleared of all imputations whatever. Manifestly she is dear to + Vesta, and worthy of the favor she has shown her. Henceforward let no man + dare to smirch her with any slur or slander.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0022" id="link2HCH0022"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXII - TRIUMPH + </h2> + <p> + IN recognition of Brinnaria’s complete and incontrovertible vindication + Commodus decreed an unusually sumptuous state banquet at the Palace, + inviting to it all the most important personages of the capital, including + the more distinguished senators, every magistrate, the higher Pontiffs, + the Flamens in a body and most of his personal cronies. + </p> + <p> + While old-fashioned households, such as that of Vocco and Flexinna, clung + to the antique Roman habit of lying down to meals on three rectangular + dining-sofas placed on three sides of a square-topped table, this + arrangement had long been supplanted at Court by a newer invention. The + mere fact that, from of old, it had been looked upon as the worst sort of + bad manners to have more than three diners on a sofa, and as scarcely less + ridiculous to have fewer than three, had made the custom vexatious in the + extreme, as it constrained all entertainers to arrange for nine guests or + eighteen or twenty-seven and ruled out any other more convenient + intermediate numbers. In the progressive circles of society and at the + Palace, the tables were circular, each supported from the center by one + standard with three feet, and each table was clasped, as it were, by a + single ample C-shaped sofa on which any number of guests from four to + twelve could conveniently recline. + </p> + <p> + At the Palace banquet in honor of Brinnaria, three tables only were set on + the Imperial dais at the head of the dining hall. On one side of the + Emperor’s table was that where feasted the higher Flamens and Pontiffs, + the sofa of the other was occupied by the young Empress, by the wives of + the higher Flamens, and by the four Vestals present. + </p> + <p> + Brinnaria declared that her appetite was as good as on the day when she + had returned home from her exile to Aunt Septima’s villa. + </p> + <p> + After two public advertisements of the Emperor’s favor and esteem she was + entirely free from any sort of worry. Her enemies were few, merely + Calvaster and his parasites, and they were thoroughly cowed and curbed + their tongues. Not only no defamation of her but not even an innuendo + gained currency in the gossip of the city during the remainder of her term + of service. + </p> + <p> + Quite the other way. Her fame as a Vestal whose prayers were sure to be + heard, at first a source of natural pride and gratification to her, came + to be a burden, even a positive misery. There was an immemorial belief + that if a Vestal could be induced to pray for the recapture of an escaped + slave, such a runaway, if within the boundaries of Rome, would be overcome + by a sort of inward numbness which would make it impossible for him to + cross the city limits, so that the retaking of such fugitives became easy, + as it was only necessary to search the wards for them. City owners of + escaped slaves besieged Brinnaria for years and as it was reported that + her intercessions were invariably effective, her fame increased and + petitions for her assistance pestered her. + </p> + <p> + She bore the annoyance resignedly, reflecting that, while she was in such + repute, no one was likely to impugn her honor. + </p> + <p> + Life in the Atrium, for the ensuing six years, altered little. Causidiena, + within three years after Brinnaria’s ordeal, became totally blind. Care of + her devolved particularly upon Terentia, of whom she was dotingly fond. + </p> + <p> + The routine duties of the maintenance of the sacred fire those two shared, + for Causidiena, even stone blind, never required anyone’s assistance to + tell her the condition of the altar-fire and could care for it and feed it + even alone, judging its needs by the sensations of her outstretched hands, + never burning herself, never letting brands or ashes fall on the Temple + floor. But in all other matters Causidiena and Terentia were concerned + only when their participation was demanded by canonical regulations, + Terentia devoting herself to attendance on Causidiena, while Causidiena + officiated only when the presence of the Chief Vesta was indispensable. + </p> + <p> + For Numisia, Gargilia, Manlia and Brinnaria, their main concern was to + arrange that Causidiena should have as little as possible to do and that + Terentia might devote as much as possible of her time to entertaining + Causidiena. This was not easy to accomplish, for Causidiena’s mind was + perfectly clear, her knowledge of every inch of the Atrium enabled her to + move about it unhesitatingly at all hours of the day and night, her sense + of duty urged her to do all that she had ever done when her sight was + perfect, and, like most blind persons, she resented any reference, + expressed or implied, to her infirmity. Consideration for her called for + almost superhuman tact and dexterity. To the best of their ability the + four strove to shield her without her being able to perceive their + sedulity. To the charm of Terentia’s music she, moreover, yielded readily. + Music, as never before, occupied the leisure of the Atrium. + </p> + <p> + During these years Brinnaria was almost entirely happy. Her duties, her + solicitude for Causidiena, her affection for Terentia, her delight in her + own and Terentia’s music filled up most of her time. + </p> + <p> + Her horse-breeding continued to interest her, but her interest was milder + and far from absorbing. She kept it up largely because she regarded her + outings as imperatively necessary to maintain her health, while aimless + outings bored her. + </p> + <p> + As when younger, she dined out very often and regularly with Vocco and + Flexinna. But since Calvaster’s accusation, she never visited Flexinna + alone, always in company with another Vestal, usually Terentia, so that + her dinners at Flexinna’s became restricted to evenings on which she and + Terentia were both off duty. Terentia, who was passionately fond of small + children, revelled in her visits to Flexinna’s house, where there were + children of all ages in abundance, all ready to make friends, all + diverting, all pleased at being petted, and, as Flexinna said: + </p> + <p> + “Not a stutterer among ‘em.” + </p> + <p> + From Almo news came frequently through Flexinna. + </p> + <p> + His campaign, deliberately prepared and relentlessly carried out, + progressed evenly and without any reverse. + </p> + <p> + The nomads nowhere withstood his legions and their attendant cloud of + allied cavalry; one after the other their strongholds were reached and + stormed, methodically and unhurriedly he reduced tribe after tribe to + submission, his prestige growing from season to season and from year to + year. + </p> + <p> + When Brinnaria’s term of service was drawing to an end and only about + eleven months of it remained, all Roman society was convulsed by what was + variously referred to as the Calvaster scandal, the great poisoning trial + or the murder of Pulfennia. + </p> + <p> + Pulfennia Ulubrana, one of Calvaster’s great-aunts, was a dwarfish + creature, humpbacked and clubfooted. + </p> + <p> + She was an only child and her parents, in spite of her deformities, were + devoted to her. They lavished on her everything that fondness could + suggest, and, as they were very wealthy, she not only lived but enjoyed + life in her way and to a very considerable extent. + </p> + <p> + To begin with she never had an ill hour or an ache or a pain from her + earliest years. Then, like many cripples, she had great vitality and a + wonderfully alert mind. Amid the small army of maids, governesses, tutors, + pages, litter-bearers, and so on, with which her parents surrounded her + she did not become merely peevish, exacting and overbearing, as might have + been expected. Even the services of her personal physician, of three + expert readers to read aloud to her and of a half dozen musicians to + divert her whenever she pleased, did not spoil her. She was imperious + enough, self-willed and obstinately resolute to have her own way in all + matters, but she had a great deal of common-sense, realized what was + possible and what impossible and was considerate of her entire retinue, + even of such unimportant slave-girls as her three masseuses. + </p> + <p> + She was greedy of all sorts of knowledge and acquired an education + altogether unusual for a Roman woman. + </p> + <p> + Withal she was feminine in her tastes, spent much time on embroidery and + was justly proud of her complex and beautiful productions in this womanly + art. She overcame her disabilities to a great extent and, with no lack of + conveyances, became a figure almost as well-known in oman society as + Nemestronia herself. + </p> + <p> + As she had an accommodating disposition, an excellent appetite and a witty + tongue, she was a welcome guest at banquets and went about a great deal. + Also she entertained lavishly. + </p> + <p> + She survived the pestilence and, like so many of the remnants of the + nobility, found herself solitary and enormously wealthy. + </p> + <p> + Her vast estates she managed herself and she knew to a sesterce the value + of every piece of property, the justifiable expenses of maintaining each, + and the income each should yield. Self-indulgent as she was and moreover + an inveterate gambler, she grew richer every year. + </p> + <p> + Like all childless Romans of independent means she was the object of + unblushing and overwhelming attentions from countless legacy cadgers. She + enjoyed the game, accepted everything offered in the way of gifts, + services or invitations, and, moreover, played up to it, for she was + forever destroying her last will and making a new one. Each was read aloud + to a concourse of expectant and envious legatees. Each specified scores of + legacies of no despicable amount, and yet more numerous sops to numerous + acquaintances. In every will Calvaster, her nearest relative and favorite + grandnephew, was named as chief legatee. + </p> + <p> + She kept on making wills, and, what was more, she kept on living. + Naturally her wealth, her eccentricities, her amazing healthiness and her + obstinate vitality were subjects of general remark by all the gossips of + the capital. + </p> + <p> + One night, an hour or two after midnight, she was seized with violent + internal pains, and, in spite of the ministrations of her private + physician, died before dawn. + </p> + <p> + In Rome any sudden death was likely to be attributed to poison. In her + case the indications, from the Roman point of view, all converged on the + inference that she had been poisoned. No-one questioned the conclusion. + </p> + <p> + Calvaster was immediately suspected. The evidence against him would not + suffice to put in jeopardy any one in our days. To the Romans it seemed + sufficient to justify his incarceration and trial. He had more to gain by + the old lady’s death than anybody else. He had been chronically in need of + money and there had been much friction between him and Pulfennia on this + point. She had always provided for his necessities, but had always + insisted on scrutinizing every item in his accounts, and on being + convinced of his need for every sesterce she gave him. She had supported + him, but by an irritating dole of small sums. He had joked with his + cronies about her hold on life. He had been heard to say that he would be + glad when she was gone. He had bought various drugs from various + apothecaries, though none within a year of her death and none used merely + as a poison. Under torture some of her slaves and some of his slaves told + of his having tried to induce them to put poison in her food. + </p> + <p> + Roman society promptly divided into two camps on the question of his guilt + or innocence. The subject was debated with vehemence, even with acrimony. + He had been a disagreeable creature from childhood and had made many + enemies. On the other hand, great numbers of fair-minded people asserted + that no man, however distasteful to themselves, should be convicted on + such flimsy evidence. + </p> + <p> + His trial was watched with great interest, and when he was convicted and + an appeal was successful and a retrial ordered, upper class Rome seethed + with altercations. The case, by common consent, was tabooed as a subject + of conversation at all social gatherings; feeling ran so high that it was + possible to mention the matter only between intimate friends. + </p> + <p> + Naturally Flexinna and Brinnaria, Terentia and Vocco discussed the case + frequently. To her friends’ amazement Brinnaria maintained that she did + not feel convinced of Calvaster’s guilt. + </p> + <p> + “I always despised him and hated him,” she said, “and I despise and hate + him as much as ever, if not more. He certainly has been my worst enemy and + he came very near to ruining me. But I see no reason why hate should blind + me in judging his case. I should be glad to have him plainly convicted and + put to death. It would please me. But I am not pleased at his present + plight. I am not convinced of his guilt. I don’t believe any slave + evidence given under torture. A tortured slave will say anything he thinks + likely to relax his sufferings or please his questioners. And I see no + proof of Calvaster’s guilt in the other evidence. Everybody buys such + drugs as he bought. And suppose he did joke about Pulfennia’s tenacity to + life, who wouldn’t? I don’t believe it is proved that she died of poison + anyway. People who have never been ill are reckless eaters. Look at me, I + am. She may have died of indigestion or stomach-ache or what not. I’d do + anything I could to save him, now.” + </p> + <p> + “D-D-Do you mean to say,” spoke Flexinna, “that if you encountered him + being led out to execution, you’d reprieve him?” + </p> + <p> + “A Vestal can’t use her prerogative of reprieving criminals,” said + Brinnaria, “unless she encounters by accident a criminal being led to + execution. She can’t lay in wait for one. Any suspicion of collusion + vitiates her privilege. The encounter must be unforeseen.” + </p> + <p> + “Suppose,” said Flexinna, “you did meet C-C-Calvaster on his way to + execution, wouldn’t you g-g-gloat over him and watch him on his way and + not interfere?” + </p> + <p> + “No, I should not, I should interfere,” said Brinnaria, “and anyhow, what + is the use of supposing? Suppose the moon fell on your front teeth, would + you stop stuttering?” + </p> + <p> + In June of 191 Almo returned from Syria, completely victorious and much + acclaimed. He brought with him his veteran legions and was received with + every mark of the Emperor’s favor. After his official reception he at once + left Rome for Falerii, where he was to remain until the last day of + Brinnaria’s service. + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile his house on the Carinae was opened and put in order under + Flexinna’s supervision. + </p> + <p> + On August 14th, Lutorius, Causidiena, Numisia and Brinnaria had a long + conference as to the details of her wedding, which was to take place on + August 16th. + </p> + <p> + The subject needed not a little discussion, as the circumstances were + unusual. Having no parents, nor indeed any near connections, it was + inevitable that the wedding should vary a great deal from what was + customary. + </p> + <p> + It was decided that on leaving the Atrium after her exauguration, she + should spend one night as the guest of Nemestronia; that on the next day + she should go to Vocco’s house and be married from there; but that in the + ceremonies, Lutorius, who had been her spiritual father for many years, + should take the part which her own father would have taken had he been + alive. It was also decided that the wedding feast should be at Almo’s + house, after the wedding-procession, instead of at Vocco’s before, as it + would have been if she had living parents and was being married from her + home. + </p> + <p> + Lutorius, who had a warm personal affection for Brinnaria, had been + hovering about her, as it were, for some days, and on this last full day + of her service he kept, so to speak, fluttering in and out of the Atrium, + repeatedly returning to confer about some trifle or other which he had + forgotten. + </p> + <p> + So it happened that he was approaching the portal as she came out for her + afternoon airing. + </p> + <p> + “You have your light carriage, to-day, I see,” he said. “Yesterday you had + out your state coach. Why the difference?” + </p> + <p> + Brinnaria, settling herself among her cushions, leaned out towards him as + he stood beside the vehicle, holding on to the tires, his arms stiff, a + hand on each wheel. + </p> + <p> + “This,” she said, “is merely a constitutional. Yesterday I took my last + outing with all my special privileges as a Vestal, drove all over Rome in + my state coach, drove up to the Capitol, and, in a fashion, said farewell + to the advantages of my office.” + </p> + <p> + “How do you feel about it all?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + Brinnaria pulled a wry face and laughed a forced laugh. + </p> + <p> + “I am finding out,” she said, “why so few Vestals ever leave the order. + When I realize that, after to-day, I shall have no lictor to clear the + streets for me, that I may go out in my litter daily, but even so without + a runner ahead, that I may never again drive through Rome, that I have + been driven up to the Capitol for the last time and may go there hereafter + only afoot or in my litter, I am almost ready to change my mind, give up + freedom and matrimony and Almo and all and cling to my privileges. When it + comes over me that, as I go out to-day, the lictors of any magistrate will + salute me, even the lictors of the Emperor, whereas after to-morrow noon + there will be no salutes for me, I understand why most Vestals live out + their lives in the order.” + </p> + <p> + “There is time still to change your mind and stay with us,” he said, + smiling. + </p> + <p> + Brinnaria laughed a perfectly natural laugh. + </p> + <p> + “No danger,” she said; “my heart is Almo’s as always.” + </p> + <p> + “And now, if you have nothing urgent to discuss, I’m off!” + </p> + <p> + “Where to?” asked Lutorius. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t care,” said Brinnaria, “I don’t even want to know. Give the + coachman any orders that come into your head, sketch a round-about drive + for me. I’m in the humor to have nothing on my mind.” + </p> + <p> + Lutorius, with a comprehending smile, whispered to the coachman, who + mounted his tiny seat. + </p> + <p> + Almost at once Brinnaria was lost in thought and jolted through the + streets oblivious to her surroundings, not even seeing what was before her + eyes. + </p> + <p> + From her muse she was roused by the halting of the carriage. + </p> + <p> + Amazed, she looked up. + </p> + <p> + Still more amazed, she recognized, standing near the head of the + off-horse, the state-executioner. + </p> + <p> + This repulsive public character, tolerated but despised and loathed, was + the last living creature in or about Rome who would dare to approach a + Vestal. + </p> + <p> + At sight of him she was inundated with a hot flood of wrath. She was about + to call to her lictor, to demand why the carriage had stopped and rebuke + him for being so negligent as to allow so unsavory a being to come so near + her. + </p> + <p> + Then she saw between her and the executioner, just in front of that + official, a kneeling figure. + </p> + <p> + She recognized Calvaster. + </p> + <p> + Also she saw the guards and executioner’s assistants grouped about the + two. + </p> + <p> + It came over her that she had encountered, wholly by accident, this gloomy + convoy, and that before her, beseeching her for a reprieve, begging for a + mere day and night more of life, knelt her inveterate, furtive enemy. + </p> + <p> + She raised her hand and looked the executioner full in the eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Send him back,” she commanded. “He is reprieved until this hour + to-morrow.” The guards dragged off Calvaster, babbling his pitiful + gratitude. + </p> + <p> + “Drive home,” said Brinnaria to her coachman. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0023" id="link2HCH0023"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXIII - SALVAGE + </h2> + <p> + THE exauguration of a Vestal, by which canonical ritual she was formally + released from her obligations of chastity and service and became free to + go where she liked and to marry or to remain unmarried as she preferred, + was a brief and simple ceremony. But it required the presence of all the + Vestals, of the major Flamens, of many Pontiffs, of the entire College of + Augurs and of the Emperor himself as Pontifex Maximus. Commodus, who was + impatient of anything which curtailed the time he might lavish on athletic + amusements, arrived precisely at noon, at the very last minute. The moment + he had entered the Atrium he hurried the ceremony. It was soon over and + Brinnaria no longer a Vestal, but a free woman. + </p> + <p> + It had been arranged that immediately after her exauguration her successor + should be taken as a Vestal there in the Atrium by Commodus himself as + Chief Pontiff. Little difficulty had been encountered as to selecting a + candidate, since a most suitable child had been offered by her parents, + people of xcellent family and of unblemished reputation. Her name was + Campia Severina, and she was a small girl, just seven years old, plump, + with a round full-moon of a face, a leaden-pasty complexion, and a most + un-Roman nose, flat, broad and snub. + </p> + <p> + Commodus, prompted by Lutorius, droned through the required questions and + showed manifest relief when he pronounced the word “Beloved” and the + second ceremony was over. + </p> + <p> + He was, however, not wholly a loutish and unmannerly Emperor, but could be + tactful and gracious when his interest was aroused. He took time to speak + to each of the Vestals; complimented Terentia on her music and spoke of + the Empress’s admiration of her organ-playing, had a brief but kindly + commendation for Manlia and Gargilia; praised Numisia highly for her + efficient discharge of the duties devolving on her, and condoled with + Causidiena on her blindness and feebleness, wording what he said so + dexterously that she could not but feel cheered and comforted. + </p> + <p> + Then, aside from the assemblage of Pontiffs, Augurs, Flamens and the rest, + he spoke privately with Brinnaria: + </p> + <p> + “I’m sorry to lose you,” he said; “I felt comfortable about the Palladium + as long as you were a Vestal. Numisia is a woman to be relied on too, and + Gargilia and Manlia are capable creatures, but not one of the three is + your equal in any respect and they are but three; the others are a corpse, + a doll and an infant. + </p> + <p> + “Understand I’m not growling at your departure, I am trying to convey to + you how highly I esteem you. I’ll advertise it to all the world by having + you and your husband, the moment you are married, put on the official + roster of my personal friends who have the right of access to me at all + times and can go in and out of the Palace at their pleasure. + </p> + <p> + “As to your wedding, I’m sorry I gave you my promise to stay away from it. + I think that this recent notion of yours that the marriage of an ex-Vestal + is an ill-omened occasion, like a funeral, is morbid and baseless. Every + Vestal has a right to leave the order at the end of her term of service + and to marry if she pleases. The right is indubitable. Nothing that is + right is ill-omened. I think that an ex-Vestal’s wedding ought to be + regarded precisely as the wedding of anybody else. The most I’ll concede + is, that it might be likened to the wedding of a widow, considering her + service as a sort of first marriage. That is my judgment, not merely as a + man but as Chief Pontiff. + </p> + <p> + “My impulse is to revoke my pledge and to do all I can to make your + wedding a grand affair. But I’m too good a betting man to break a promise. + Besides, though I impugn your arguments as an ex-Vestal, I respect your + personal preference for a quiet wedding. I’ll not insist on being invited + to the banquet, and, so far from taking part in the procession, I’ll not + even peep at it down a side street. I’ll keep inside the Palace. + </p> + <p> + “But I want you to release me from my promise in one small detail. I want + to be present at Vocco’s to see you two break and eat the old-fashioned + cake, and I want to be first to sign your marriage register. I promise to + leave as soon as I have signed the register.” + </p> + <p> + Brinnaria, of course, could not but acquiesce. + </p> + <p> + “Good for you!” said the Emperor, “and thank you too. I’ll keep away from + the procession, but that won’t make any difference in the throngs you’ll + find along your route. They’ll jam the streets and you’ll have to plough + your way through. No Emperor could ever call out more sight-seers than + will the wedding of Brinnaria the water-carrier.” He then went out into + the street which his escort blocked, and departed, accompanied by his + coterie of boxers, wrestlers, swordsmen, jockeys and such-like, convoyed + by a large and gorgeous retinue of pages, runners, guards nd lictors. + </p> + <p> + Immediately after his departure Brinnaria said her farewells and set out + for Nemestronia’s. + </p> + <p> + Next morning, as she descended from her litter at Vocco’s door, a Vestal’s + carriage drove up and Gargilia got out. + </p> + <p> + “You’re surprised to see me at this hour,” she said, “and I don’t wonder.” + When they were indoors and seated with Flexinna she explained: + </p> + <p> + “We have been having a terrible night at the Atrium and the worst sort of + luck this morning. That little fool of a Campia is the most complete + cry-baby and the most homesick little wretch I ever saw or heard of. She + has sobbed herself ill and screamed us all out of a night’s sleep. + Terentia and Manlia were up half the night with her and she waked me and + Causidiena. + </p> + <p> + “The result is that Causidiena has had one of her semi-fainting spells and + is in her arm-chair for the day, poor Manlia has one of her splitting + headaches and Terentia is almost as bad. I never saw the Atrium in such a + state. Campia goes to sleep off and on from exhaustion, but she wakes up + howling and keeps blubbering and whining and sniveling. I left both + Terentia and Manlia in tears. They are so vexed to think that to-morrow + they will be entirely well, but for to-day there is absolutely nothing for + it but they must both keep abed and in the dark. + </p> + <p> + “Numisia sent me to tell you that she will be at your wedding, will walk + in the procession and will be at the banquet, but that I must be on duty + in the Temple. So we’ll just have to have our chat now and when I leave we + shall not see each other again for the present.” + </p> + <p> + As she climbed into her carriage she said: + </p> + <p> + “I’m sorry you haven’t a bright wedding day.” + </p> + <p> + “So am I,” said Brinnaria, glancing up at the gray canopy of rainless + cloud which hid the sky; “any day is a good day to be married on, but I + hoped for sunshine.” + </p> + <p> + Commodus, faithful to the spirit of his promise, came to Vocco’s house + with the smallest possible official retinue. He was in the best humor, + affable and genial, and cast no chill of formality over the ceremony. He + was the first to set his signature to the marriage register, signing in + his sprawling school-boy hand. Then he stood aside and looked on while + Flexinna, as matron of honor, led Brinnaria to Almo and joined their right + hands, while they seated themselves side by side on the traditional + cushioned stools, while the Flamen of Jupiter offered on the house-altar + the old-fashioned contract-cake, and said the formal prayers for the + happiness of the bride and groom; while the Flamen’s assistant, one of + Flexinna’s older boys, carried the cake to Almo and Brinnaria and each + broke off a piece and ate it, she uttering the old-time formula: + </p> + <p> + “Where you are Caius I am Caia.” + </p> + <p> + Above the voices of the guests Commodus’ could be distinguished shouting + with them: + </p> + <p> + “Good luck! Good luck!” + </p> + <p> + In the silence that followed he warned: + </p> + <p> + “Now, no rising, no bowing. I’m not here to spoil this wedding, I came to + enjoy it. No bowing, I tell you, no rising. Let me get out like an + ordinary man.” + </p> + <p> + Into the gathering dusk he vanished with his retinue. + </p> + <p> + As soon as he was gone the arrangement for the procession began, the + slaves lit their torches and grouped themselves outside the house-door, + the flute players struck up a tune, Flexinna’s thirteen-year-old boy lit + his white-thorn torch at the altar-fire, her eleven-year-old and + nine-year-old, as pages of honor, caught Brinnaria by the hands and led + her out at the door. So led by the two little boys, their brother with the + white-thorn torch walking before her, she passed through the streets to + Almo’s house, Nemestronia and Flexinna on either side of Almo, close + behind her, Vocco and the other guests following. + </p> + <p> + The people made good the Emperor’s prophecy. + </p> + <p> + From house-door to house-door the streets were packed with crowds eager to + see her pass and loud to acclaim her. Through cheers, good wishes, loud + jokes, merry longs and cries of “Talassio! Talassio!” she passed along the + upper part of the Fagutal, and past the flank of the Baths of Titus to the + Carinae. + </p> + <p> + Her bridal dress of pearl-gray, with the flame-colored bridal veil, + reminded her more than a little of that costume of Flexinna’s which she + had worn to Aricia and back, only that was mostly pink, this mostly gray. + </p> + <p> + She looked well in it and wore the six braids and the headband more + naturally than most brides, having been habituated to them for thirty + years, since all Vestals always wore the bridal coiffure. + </p> + <p> + At the doorway of Almo’s house, the bearer of the white-thorn torch halted + and faced about inside the door, his two little brothers let go her hands, + Almo himself caught her up clear of the pavement and swung her clear of + the door-sill. As he held her in the air, nestling to him, she repeated + the formula: + </p> + <p> + “Where you are Caius, I am Caia.” + </p> + <p> + When he set her down inside the house she was at last a married woman. + </p> + <p> + She turned and watched the scramble for the white-thorn torch which its + bearer first put out and then threw among the crowd after the slaves had + also put out their torches. + </p> + <p> + So watching, Almo’s arm about her, she became aware of a strange something + in the look of the crowd and of the street. + </p> + <p> + “What makes it so light?” she asked Almo. “Why are the tops of their heads + all bright that way?” + </p> + <p> + Lutorius, who was near them, explained: + </p> + <p> + “There is a big fire somewhere the other side of the Capitol. I noticed it + at the top of the street. The Capitol stood out black, the outline of both + temples plain as in the daylight, against the red smoke behind it.” + </p> + <p> + “Send some of the slaves,” said Brinnaria, “to find out where the fire is, + and let us lie down to dinner. I’m as hungry as a wolf.” And like a true + Roman she began with a trifle of three hard-boiled eggs, merely to take + the edge off her appetite. + </p> + <p> + There were six tables set in Almo’s dining-room and an ample + crescent-shaped sofa to each. The sixty guests made the big room buzz with + talk and echo with laughter. + </p> + <p> + Nemestronia called across to Brinnaria: + </p> + <p> + “Now you have what you’ve always wanted. You’re a married woman at last.” + </p> + <p> + “And I’ll soon have what I’ve wanted almost as much,” Brinnaria replied. + </p> + <p> + “What’s that?” several voices called. + </p> + <p> + “Two desires,” Brinnaria explained, “haunted me all the while I was a + Vestal. One was the longing for a horseback ride. I used to revel in + galloping bareback. I haven’t been astraddle of a horse for thirty years. + It won’t be many days now before I shall enjoy a good canter on a good + horse. + </p> + <p> + “Then, by to-morrow night, I trust, I shall have had a fine long swim with + my husband and six hundred other couples in the big basin of one of the + City Baths. + </p> + <p> + “Words could not tell you how I have longed to go swimming in the public + baths with the rest of my kind, as a lady should.” + </p> + <p> + The messengers returned with the news that the fire had started near the + round end of the Flaminian Circus, close to the Temple of Bellona. Before + a strong wind it had spread both ways, had caught everything in the north + slope of the Capitol between it and Trajan’s Forum: the silver-smiths’ + shops were all ablaze; to the south it had crept between the slope of the + Capitol and the theatre of Marcellus and was sweeping over the booths of + the Vegetable Market. + </p> + <p> + “It is the biggest fire in our time,” said Lutorius. + </p> + <p> + “Where will it stop?” queried Numisia. + </p> + <p> + Both sent their lictors to make further report. + </p> + <p> + Before the dinner was half over they returned, with messengers from the + Atrium. The conflagration was roaring up the Vicus Jugarius and Gargilia + was alarmed. + </p> + <p> + Lutorius and Numisia hastily excused themselves, called for their shoes + and went off; he in his litter and she in her carriage. + </p> + <p> + As Brinnaria was about to cut the wedding cake her former lictor, Barbo, + thrust himself into the dining-hall, frantic with concern, and narrated + how the fire was beyond any hope of control and was already devouring the + Basilica Argentaria and Basilica Julia. + </p> + <p> + “Lutorius has had the sacred fire carried out of the Temple in a copper + pan by Gargilia and Manlia,” he said, “and Terentia and Numisia, with + little Campia, were helping Causidiena along the Holy Street. Causidiena + had an earthenware casket in her arms. I saw them turn the corner to their + right into Pearl-Dealers Lane. They are safe in the Palace by now.” + </p> + <p> + “Safe in the Palace?” Brinnaria echoed. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” Barbo repeated. “Safe in the Palace. They say that the Temple and + the Atrium must burn, nothing can save them.” + </p> + <p> + “The Temple!” cried Brinnana. “Fire! And everybody ill except Gargilia and + Numisia! And all they could think of would be saving that dear old blind + saint and that contemptible cry-baby. Ten to one they have missed the + Palladium and taken one of the dummies by mistake! + </p> + <p> + “O, Almo, I must go save the Palladium!” + </p> + <p> + Of course Almo protested. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t hinder me,” she begged. “Go I must, whether you object or not. We’d + never forgive ourselves if to-morrow we learned too late that the Vestals + missed the true Palladium in the confusion, whereas I might have saved it + if I had tried. They may have taken the real Palladium; I may be too late + now to save it if they made a mistake, but I am bound to try.” + </p> + <p> + He shut his lips, but she read his eyes. + </p> + <p> + “That is like my hero,” she said. “Patriotism first, self last. + </p> + <p> + “Barbo,” she called, “run before me and clear the way as if I were still a + Vestal. It’s illegal, but it will work.” + </p> + <p> + She started for the house-door and then paused. + </p> + <p> + “Have you any fire buckets?” she asked Almo. “Then have two of the slaves + each fill a bucket and keep close behind us.” + </p> + <p> + Amid the prayers and blessings of the wedding-guests, they went out hand + in hand, the two slaves with leather water-buckets behind them, Barbo + ahead, bellowing: + </p> + <p> + “Room for Brinnaria Epulonia! Room for Brinnaria Epulonia!” At the street + corner, before they started down the slope of the Carinae, they had before + them a wide view over the city directly towards the Capitol. Between them + and the Capitol Hill they could see the buildings about the Great Forum + all one sea of flames. + </p> + <p> + “The Basilica AEmilia is on fire,” said Brinnaria, “and the Temple of + Augustus is just catching. We shall be in time; our Temple won’t catch + before we get there. + </p> + <p> + “Run, let’s run.” + </p> + <p> + Run they did, the crowds making way at Barbo’s loud adjurations. In their + wedding finery, she with her veil wrapped round her head like a + market-woman’s shawl, they ran, hand in hand between the great Temple of + Venus and Rome, black on their right hand against the reddened clouds, and + the vast Colosseum on their left, all orange in the glare, the gilding on + its awning poles glimmering. + </p> + <p> + Up the Sacred Street they passed, running when they could, ploughing + through the crowds when the crowd was too thick. + </p> + <p> + By the time they passed through the Arch of Titus they were running, + panting and gasping, through a hail of warm ashes, hot cinders, glowing + embers, blazing bits of wood, flaming brands. + </p> + <p> + At the corner of the Pearl-Dealers Exchange Almo halted, detaining her by + her gripped left hand. + </p> + <p> + “It is no use,” he said; “we are too late. You might pass the portal of + the Atrium alive, but you’d never get back alive. And I doubt if you could + reach the portal through this heat. You’d scorch to death.” + </p> + <p> + “I shall reach the portal,” Brinnaria declared, firmly. “But I’m not + coming back through it. Listen to me and don’t forget. I’m going to make a + dash for the portal. I can reach it, our Temple has not caught yet, the + bronze-tile roof will hold the fire off the beams some time. This end of + the Temple of Augustus has not blazed yet; I can see the cornice. + </p> + <p> + “Once inside the Atrium I’ll not try to come back this way, I’ll find the + Palladium or make sure it is not there; then I’ll run upstairs to the + south-east corner. Those rooms are on a level with the pavement of the New + Street.” + </p> + <p> + “But,” Almo interrupted, “there isn’t an opening towards the New Street. + The outer wall of the Atrium towards the Palace is all blank wall to the + cornice, not even a ventilation hole anywhere.” + </p> + <p> + “I know,” she rebuked him; “keep still and listen. I’ll run into the third + room from the corner. All that end of the Atrium is of brick and cement, + not a beam anywhere and the ceilings are vaulted; the fire will be a long + time reaching me there. You go up Pearl Dealers’ Lane to the corner of the + New Street. From the corner measure thirty-eight feet along the New + Street. At that point have a hole smashed through the wall. There are + hordes of firemen about with their axes, sledge-hammers and pick-axes. + They’ll hack a hole through for you in no time. The wall is thin there; we + had a temporary door made there three years ago for the plumbers when they + were putting in the new bath-rooms. + </p> + <p> + “Now, every moment is precious. Hold my hand and help me to make my dash + for the portal, but drop my hand and turn back at the portal; no man may + enter the Atrium, except a Pontiff or a workman. When I squeeze your + fingers, drop my hand and make your dash back. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t try to check me, husband; self last and patriotism first, for every + Roman of us all. We have waited thirty years for each other and we’ve + hardly had time for three kisses yet. But if we must lose each other to + save Rome, then we must. + </p> + <p> + “If I fail, good-bye!” Then she turned and called the trembling slaves to + come nearer. + </p> + <p> + She ordered: + </p> + <p> + “Dash that water over us, one over him, one over me. Don’t waste any, pour + it on our heads. Now go where you please!” + </p> + <p> + Dripping, hand in hand, they ran over the cinder-strewn pavement, under + the rain of blazing fragments, up the Sacred Street, between the + furnace-hot walls. + </p> + <p> + Under the long arcade they were safe. + </p> + <p> + At its further end she had to face a dash of some ten yards through the + blazing brands, the very air seeming on fire. + </p> + <p> + “I’m afraid!” she cried. “Be brave, Almo, and give me courage!” Her + fingers pressed his, their hands parted. + </p> + <p> + Her hands over her face she dashed forward. + </p> + <p> + He saw her vanish through the portal. + </p> + <p> + He ran back. + </p> + <p> + Inside the Atrium Brinnaria turned to her right, passed through a small + door, traversed four dark rooms and groped, kneeling on the floor. + </p> + <p> + Her fingers found five earthenware caskets in a row. + </p> + <p> + Swiftly she felt them. + </p> + <p> + The third she opened. + </p> + <p> + Carefully she fingered the statuette inside, running the tips of her + finger-ends along the carved folds of the gown, over the helmet, over the + fingers clasping the spear. + </p> + <p> + With the statuette in her hands she stood up. Tearing off her veil she + wrapped the statuette in it. + </p> + <p> + Back she went to the peristyle, and ran round it to her right. Under the + roof of the colonnade she was safe from the rain of brands, but even in + there the heat was appalling. She felt as if the very marble columns must + crumble beside her as she ran. + </p> + <p> + At the far corner of the courtyard she dashed through a door and ran up + two flights of stairs; a short flight in front of her, and a longer flight + to her left from the landing of the first. At the top of the stairs she + passed through four rooms. In the fifth, lighted from behind her through a + door by an orange glow from the glare of the conflagration, she sank down + on the floor against its farther wall. + </p> + <p> + Almost at once she was on her feet, recoiling from the wall. It quivered + with the shock of blows from the outside. + </p> + <p> + A shower of plaster and bits of brick stung her face and spattered all + over her. + </p> + <p> + She saw the point of a pick-axe shine an instant in the fire-glare. + </p> + <p> + “I’m here,” she called. “I’m safe. Take your time. It’s not hot in here + yet.” The excited blows thudded on the wall. The sledges broke a hole as + big as her head, four times as big as her head. + </p> + <p> + “Take your time!” she repeated. “There is no hurry now.” Soon she could + see the torches outside, the faces of the firemen, Almo’s face. + </p> + <p> + “No!” she said, “I won’t be dragged through a crevice. There is plenty of + time. Dig that hole bigger!” When it was large enough to suit her she bade + her rescuers back away. + </p> + <p> + “No man must touch what I carry,” she warned. + </p> + <p> + Outside, in Almo’s arms, she was hurried through winding alleys, up narrow + stone stairways, to the Palace. + </p> + <p> + At the end of a deep, dark passageway between high walls Lutorius, with + some of the Emperor’s aides, was waiting for them at a small door. He + guided them to where they were eagerly expected. As they threaded the + corridors, they heard, at first far off, then closer and closer, the sound + of a child wailing, bawling, blubbering. Even in the Palace, Campia was an + irrepressible cry-baby. + </p> + <p> + In the chapel of the Statue of Victory they found the Vestals, the Empress + and the Emperor. + </p> + <p> + “I’ve got it safe,” Brinnaria proclaimed. + </p> + <p> + “I’m a frightful-looking bride,” she added, “wet as a drowned pup, + scorched all over, all my hair burnt off; I must look a guy.” + </p> + <p> + “Never mind that,” said Commodus; “you can’t get home to-night, the + conflagration is still spreading. I doubt if the firemen can save the + Colosseum. It would take you till daylight to work your way round the + districts which are in confusion. You’ll sleep here. I’ve had Trajan’s own + private suite made ready for you two, as soon as the first messenger told + me of your gallantry. You’ll find an army of maids and such waiting for + you. Go make yourselves comfortable. + </p> + <p> + “The bedroom of Rome’s greatest Emperor is none too good for you. Nothing + is too good for you, Brinnaria. + </p> + <p> + “You’ve saved the Palladium, and me, and the Empire and the Republic and + Rome.” + </p> + <div style="height: 6em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg’s The Unwilling Vestal, by Edward Lucas White + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE UNWILLING VESTAL *** + +***** This file should be named 6070-h.htm or 6070-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/6/0/7/6070/ + +Produced by An Anonymous Volunteer and David Widger + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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