The Emperor opened the tablets, and read:
"To Justinian, Emperor of the Romans, Amalaswintha, Queen of the Goths and the Italians."
"Queen of the Italians!" laughed Justinian; "what an insane title!"
"From Alexandros you will learn how Eris and Ate haunt this land. I am like a lonely palm-tree which is tossed by opposing winds. Each day increases the barbarians' enmity to me, and daily I become more estranged from them; and the Romans, however much I try to conciliate them, can never forget that I am of Germanic origin. Till now I have defied all danger with a firm spirit; but I can do so no longer, if my palace and my person are not in security. I cannot rely upon any party in this country. Therefore I appeal to you, as my royal brother. It is the dignity of all rulers, and the peace of Italy, which you will protect. Send me, I beseech you, a trustworthy troop, a life-guard"--the Emperor cast a significant look at Belisarius--"a troop of some thousand men, with a leader who will be unconditionally devoted to me. They shall occupy the palace; it is a fortress in itself. As to Rome, these troops must, above all things, keep from me the Prefect Cethegus, who is as full of duplicity as he is powerful, and who deserted me in the danger into which he himself had led me. If necessary, they must ruin him. When I have overthrown my enemies, and secured my kingdom, as I trust in Heaven and my own strength that I shall, I will send back troops and leader richly laden with gifts, and still more with warm thanks.--Vale."
Justinian clasped the wax-tablets tightly in his hand; his eyes shone; his plain features were ennobled by an expression of high intellectual power; and the present moment showed, that together with many weaknesses and littlenesses, he possessed strength and greatness: the greatness of diplomatic genius.
"In this letter," he cried at last, with sparkling eyes, "I hold Italy and the Gothic kingdom!"
And, much agitated, he paced the room with long strides, even forgetting to bow before the Cross.
"A life-guard! that she shall have! But not a few thousand men; many thousands--more than she will like; and you, Belisarias, shall lead them."
"Deign to look at the presents," said Alexandros, pointing to a costly shrine of cypress-wood, inlaid with gold, which a slave had set down behind him. "Here is the key."
And he held out a little box of tortoise-shell, which was closed with the Queen's seal.
"Her picture is there too," he said, raising his voice as if by accident.
At the moment in which Alexandros raised his voice, the head of a woman was protruded gently and unnoticed through the curtain, and two sparkling black eyes looked keenly at the Emperor.
Justinian opened the shrine, quickly pushed aside its costly contents, and hastily caught up a simple tablet of polished box-wood, with a small golden frame.
A cry of astonishment involuntarily burst from his lips, his eyes sparkled, and he showed the picture to Belisarius.
"A splendid woman! What majesty on her brow! One sees that she is a born ruler--a king's daughter!" and he gazed admiringly at the noble features.
The curtain rustled, and the listener entered.
It was Theodora, the Empress. A seductive apparition.
All the arts of woman's inventive genius in a time of refined luxury, and all the means of an empire, were daily called into requisition, in order to keep the beauty of this woman--who had impaired it only too much by a life of unbridled sensuality--fresh and dazzling. Gold-dust gave to her blue-black hair a metallic brilliancy; it was carefully combed up from the nape of her neck, in order to show the beautiful shape of her head, and its fine set upon her shoulders. Her eyebrows and eye-lashes were dyed black with Arabian antimony; and so carefully was the red of her lips put on, that even Justinian, who kissed those lips, never suspected an aid to Nature by means of Phœnician scarlet. Every tiny hair on her alabaster arm had been carefully destroyed: and the delicate rose-colour of her finger-nails was the daily care of a specially-appointed slave.
And yet, without all these arts, Theodora, who was not yet forty years of age, would have passed for an extremely lovely woman. Her countenance was certainly not noble; no noble, or even proud spirit, spoke from her fatigued and weirdly shining eyes; round her lips played an habitual smile, the dimples of which indicated the place of the first future wrinkle; and her cheeks, beneath the eyes, showed traces of exhaustion.
But as she now gracefully moved towards the Emperor, delicately holding up the heavy folds of her dark-yellow silk robes with her left hand, her whole appearance produced a bewitching charm, similar to the sweet and soothing scent of Indian balsam which she shed around her.
"What pleases my imperial lord so much? May I share his delight?" she asked in a sweet and flattering voice.
Those present prostrated themselves before the Empress, scarcely less humbly than before the Emperor.
Justinian started upon seeing her, as if he had been caught in some culpable act, and tried to conceal the portrait in the folds of his chlamys. But it was too late. The Empress had already fixed her quick eyes upon it.
"We are admiring," said the Emperor, "the--the fine chasing of the gold frame."
And, blushing, he gave her the portrait.
"Well," said Theodora, smiling, "there is not much to admire in the frame. But the picture is not bad. It is surely the Gothic Queen?"
The ambassador bowed assent.
"Not bad, as I said before; but barbaric, severe, unwomanly. How old may she be, Alexandros?"
"About forty-five."
Justinian looked at the picture and then at the ambassador.
"The picture was taken fifteen years ago," said Alexandros, as if in. explanation.
"No," said the Emperor, "you mistake; here stands the date, according to the indiction5and the consul, and the date of her accession; it is of this year."
An awkward pause ensued.
"Well," stammered Alexandros, "then the artists flatter like----"
"Like courtiers," concluded the Emperor.
But Theodora came to the ambassador's aid.
"Why do we chatter about portraits and the age of strange women, when we should think only of the empire? What news brings Alexandras? Are you decided, Justinianus?"
"Almost. I only wished to hear your opinion, and, I know, you are in favour of war."
Narses quietly interposed. "Wherefore, sire, did you not at once tell us that the Empress was in favour of war? We could have spared our words."
"What! would you insinuate that I am the slave of my wife?"
"Guard your tongue better," said Theodora angrily. "Many who seemed invulnerable, have been stung by their own sharp tongues."
"You are very imprudent, Narses," said Justinian.
"Emperor," he answered, "I have long since ceased to be prudent. We live in a time, in a realm, and at a court, where, for any word that we speak or leave unspoken, we may fall into disgrace and be ruined. As any word of mine may cause my death, I will at least die for words that please me."
The Emperor smiled.
"You must confess, patrician, that I can bear a great deal of plain-speaking."
"You are by nature great, O Justinianus, and a magnanimous ruler; else Narses would not serve you. But Omphale rendered even Hercules small."
The eyes of the Empress shone with hatred.
Justinianus became uneasy.
"Go," he said, "I will consult with the Empress alone. To-morrow you shall hear my decision."
No sooner were they gone, than Justinian went up to his wife, and pressed a kiss upon her white forehead.
"Forgive him," he said, "he means well."
"I know it," she answered, returning the kiss. "It is for this reason, and because he is indispensable as a foil to Belisarius, that he still lives."
"You are right, as always," cried Justinian, putting his arm round her, and thus walking with her up and down the room.
"What does he intend to do?" thought Theodora; "this tenderness indicates a bad conscience."
"You are right," he repeated, "God has denied me the spirit which decides the fate of battles, and, in compensation, has given me these two men of victory---fortunatelytwo of them. Their jealousy of each other secures my dominion better than their fidelity. Either of these generals alone would be a continual danger to the state, and on the day that they become friends, my throne will shake. You continue to excite their mutual dislike?"
"It is easy to excite. There is as natural an antipathy between them as between fire and water. And every spiteful remark of the eunuch I tell with indignation to my friend Antonina, the wife and mistress of the hero Belisarius."
"And I repeat every rudeness of this hero to the irritable cripple. But to our consultation. Since receiving the report of Alexandros, I am almost decided upon the expedition to Italy."
"Whom will you send?"
"Belisarius, of course. He promises to accomplish with thirty thousand, that which Narses will scarcely undertake with eighty thousand."
"Do you think that so small a force will be sufficient?"
"No. But the honour of Belisarius is engaged. He will exert his utmost strength, and yet will not quite succeed."
"That will be wholesome for him. For, since the war with the Vandals, his pride has become insupportable."
"But," continued the Emperor, "he will accomplish three-fourths of the work. Then I will recall him, march myself with sixty thousand, taking Narses with me, and easily finish the remaining fourth of the task. Then I, too, shall be called a great general and a conqueror."
"Finely thought out!" cried Theodora, with sincere admiration of his subtlety: "your plan is ripe."
"However," said Justinian, sighing and stopping in his walk, "Narses is right; I must confess it. It would be better for my empire if I defended it from the Persians, instead of attacking the Goths. It would be wiser and safer policy. For, at some time or other, destruction will come from the East."
"Let it come! It may not be for centuries, when the only thing remembered of Justinianus will be the fame of having reconquered Italy as well as Africa. Is it your office to take thought for the future? Those who come after you may care for their present; let yours be your only care."
"But if it should then be said: had Justinian defended his kingdom instead of making conquests, it would now be better? If they say: Justinian's victories have destroyed the empire?"
"No one will speak thus. Mankind is dazzled by the glory of Fame. And yet another thing--" and now the earnestness of deep conviction chased the expression of cunning persuasiveness from the seductive features of the Empress.
"I suspect what you are about to say; but continue."
"You are not only an Emperor, you are a man. Your salvation must be dearer to you than even your kingdom. Many a bloody step was taken upon the path, uponourpath--which led to the height to which we have attained, to the glory of our empire. Many harsh deeds were necessary; life and treasures, and many a dangerous foe were--enough! It is true that, with part of these treasures, we are building a temple to the glory of Christ, which alone will make our name immortal upon earth. But for Heaven--who knows if that be sufficient! Let us"--and her eyes glowed with fanatic fire--"let us destroy the unbelievers, and seek the path to grace and pardon over the bodies of the enemies of Christ!"
Justinian pressed her hand.
"The Persians, too, are the enemies of Christ; they are even heathens."
"Have you forgotten the teaching of the Prophet: 'heretics are seven times worse than heathens?' The true faith has been revealed to them and they have despised it. That is the sin against the Holy Ghost, which will never be forgiven on earth or in heaven. But you are the sword which shall destroy these God-forsaken Arians! They are the most hated enemies of Christ; they know Him, and still deny that He is God. Already you have overthrown the heretic Vandals in Africa, and smothered error in blood and fire. Now Italy calls upon you; Rome, the place where the blood of the prince of Apostles was shed, the holy city, must no longer be subject to the heretics. Justinian, recall her to the true faith!"
She ceased.
The Emperor looked up at the golden cross and sighed deeply.
"You unveil the inmost depths of my heart. It is this feeling which, mightier still than love of fame and victory, urges me to this war. But am I capable, am I worthy of achieving such a holy work to the honour of God? Will He consummate such a great deed by my sinful hand? I doubt; I waver. Was the dream which came to me last night sent from Heaven? What was its meaning? did it incite to the attempt or warn me off? Well, your mother, Komito, the prophetess of Cyprus, had great wisdom in interpreting dreams and warnings----"
"And you know that the gift is inherited. Did I not foretell the result of the war with the Vandals from your dreams?"
"Then you shall also explain this last dream to me. You know that I waver in my best plans, if an omen speaks against them. Listen then. But"--and he cast an uneasy glance at his wife--"but remember that it was but adream, and no man can answer for his dreams."
"Certainly; God sends them.--What shall I hear?" she added to herself.
"Last night I fell asleep while meditating over the last reports about Amala--about Italy. I dreamed that I was wandering in a landscape with seven hills. Under a laurel-tree there reposed the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. I stood before her and looked at her with delight. Suddenly there rushed out of a thicket at my right hand a growling bear, and, from the rocks to the left, a hissing snake, and darted at the sleeping woman. She woke and called my name. I quickly caught her up, and, pressing her to my bosom, fled. Looking back, I saw that the bear crushed the snake, while the snake stung the bear to death."
"Well, and the woman?"
"The woman pressed a hasty kiss upon my forehead and suddenly vanished. I awoke and stretched out my arms for her in vain. The woman," he continued quickly, before Theodora had time to reflect, "is, of course, Italy."
"Certainly," said the Empress quietly, but her bosom heaved. "Your dream is most happy. The bear and the snake are barbarians and Italians, who strive for the city upon the seven hills. You tear it from their grasp, and let them mutually destroy each other."
"But she vanishes--she does not remain."
"She remains. She kisses you and disappears in your arms. So will Italy be swallowed up in your empire."
"You are right!" said Justinian, springing up. "Thanks, my wise wife. You are the light of my soul! I will venture. Belisarius shall march." He was about to call the attendant, but suddenly stopped short. "One thing more," and casting down his eyes he took Theodora's hand.
"Ah!" thought Theodora, "now it is coming."
"When we have destroyed the kingdom of the Goths, and have with the Queen's help taken Ravenna--what--what shall be done with her, the Princess?"
"What shall be done with her?" repeated Theodora with well-feigned composure. "That which was done with the King of the Vandals. She shall come here, to Byzantium."
Justinian breathed again.
"It rejoices me that you have at once interpreted my thought," and he kissed her slender white hand with real pleasure.
"More than that," said Theodora. "She will enter into our plans all the more willingly if she can look forward to an honourable reception here. So I will myself write her a sisterly epistle inviting her to come. In case of need she shall ever find an asylum in my heart."
"You do not know," interrupted Justinian eagerly, "how much you will assist our victory by so doing. The daughter of Theodoric must be completely weaned from her people. She shall herself lead us to Ravenna."
"But if so, you cannot immediately send Belisarius with an army. It would only awaken her suspicions and make her rebellious. She must first be completely in our power and the barbarians must have begun an internecine war, before the sword of Belisarius flies from its sheath."
"But at least he must henceforth be in the vicinity."
"Certainly, perhaps in Sicily. The disturbances in Africa afford the best excuse for sending a fleet into those waters. And as soon as the net is sunk Belisarius must draw it together."
"But who shall sink it?"
Theodora reflected for a few moments; then she said:
"The most gifted man in the West; Cethegus Cæsarius, the Prefect of Rome, the friend of my youth."
"Quite right. But not he alone. He is a Roman, no subject of mine; and I am not sure of him. Whom shall I send? Once again Alexandros?"
"No," said Theodora, "he is too young for such a task. No." And she became thoughtfully silent. "Justinian," she said at last, "you shall see that I can sacrifice my personal dislikes for the sake of the empire, when it is necessary to choose the right man. I propose my enemy, Petros, the cousin of Narses, the fellow-student of the Prefect, the sly rhetorician--send him!"
"Theodora!" cried the Emperor, embracing her; "God himself has given you to me! Cethegus--Petros--Belisarius. Barbarians! you are lost!"
The morning following this conversation the beautiful Empress rose in great good-humour from her swelling cushions, which were filled with the delicate neck-feathers of the Pontian crane, and covered with pale yellow silk.
Before the bed stood a tripod holding a silver basin, representing Oceanus; in it lay a massive golden ball. The Empress lifted the ball and let it fall clanging into the basin. The clear tone roused the Syrian slave who slept in the ante-room. She entered, and, approaching the bed of the Empress with her arms crossed upon her bosom, drew back the heavy violet-coloured curtains of Chinese silk. Then she took a soft Iberian sponge, which, soaked in asses' milk, lay in a crystal dish, and carefully wiped off the coating of oily paste with which the neck and face of her mistress were covered during the night.
Next she kneeled down before the bed, her face bent almost to the earth, and stretched out her hand to the Empress, who, taking it, slowly set her foot upon the neck of the kneeling girl, and sprang elastically to the ground.
The slave rose and threw over her mistress, who, clad only in an under-tunic of the finest lawn, sat upon the palm-wood frame of the bed--a fine dressing-mantle of rose-coloured stuff. Then she made a profound obeisance, turned to the door, cried "Agave!" and disappeared.
Agave, a young and beautiful Thessalian girl, entered the room. She rolled a washstand of citrean-wood, covered with countless boxes and bottles, close before her mistress, and began to rub her face, neck, and hands with soft cloths dipped in different wines and essences. This task completed, the Empress rose from the bedside and stepped on to a couch covered with panther's skins.
"The large bath towards mid-day," she said.
Agave pushed an oval bath of terebinthus-wood, covered outside with tortoise-shell and filled with deliciously-scented water, in front of the divan, and lifted the little white feet of the Empress into it. Afterwards she loosened the net of gold-thread which confined the luxurious hair of her mistress during the night, letting the rich dark coils fall over neck and shoulders, and departed in her turn, calling "Galatea!"
Galatea was an aged slave, the nurse, attendant, and, we regret to add, the procuress of Theodora, when the latter was only the bespangled daughter of Acacius the lion-keeper, and, while yet almost a child, the already deeply-corrupted favourite of the great Circus.
Galatea had faithfully shared all the humiliations and triumphs, the vices and cunning of the adventuress's life until the latter had attained to the imperial throne.
"How hast thou slept, my dove?" asked Galatea, handing to Theodora in a vessel of amber the aromatic essence which the town of Adana, in Sicily, was forced to send in large quantities for the Empress's use as a yearly tribute.
"Well; I dreamt of him."
"Of Alexandros?"
"No, thou fool! of the handsome Anicius."
"But Alexandros has been waiting for some time already; outside in the secret niche."
"He is impatient," said the Empress, smiling; "well then, let him in!"
And she leaned back upon the long divan, drawing a cover of purple silk over her; but the delicate ankles of her beautiful feet remained visible.
Galatea bolted the principal door, through which she had entered, and crossed the room to the opposite corner, which was filled by a colossal bronze statue of Justinian. She touched a spring, and the seemingly immovable mass turned on one side, exposing a small opening in the wall, which was completely hidden by the statue in its normal position. A dark curtain was drawn before this opening. Galatea lifted the curtain and Alexandros hurried in. He threw himself on his knees before the Empress, caught her small hand and covered it with kisses.
Theodora gently drew it away.
"It is very imprudent, Alexandros," said she, leaning back her lovely head, "to admit a lover to the toilet of his mistress. What says the poet: 'All things serve beauty. Yet it is no pleasant sight to see that in preparation which only pleases when complete.' But I promised, when you left for Ravenna, to admit you to my toilet, and you richly deserve your reward. You have ventured much for me. Fasten the braids tighter," she cried to Galatea, who had now commenced the task, entrusted to her alone, of dressing the splendid hair of her mistress. "You have risked your life for me, Alexandros!" and she gave him two fingers of her right hand.
"Oh, Theodora!" cried the youth, "to gain but this one moment I would die ten times over!"
"But," she continued, "why did you not send me a copy of the barbarian Queen's last letter to Justinian?"
"It was not possible; there was no time. I could send no more messengers from my ship. I barely succeeded, after landing, in sending you word that her picture was among the presents. You came just at the right moment!"
"Yes; what would become of me if I did not pay Justinian's door-keepers twice as well as he? But, most imprudent of ambassadors! how stupid you were about the date!"
"Oh, loveliest daughter of Cyprus! I had not seen you for months! I could think of nothing but you and your wonderful beauty!"
"Well, I suppose I must forgive you.--Galatea, bring me the black fillet.--You are a better lover than a statesman, Alexandros. Therefore I have kept you here. Yes, you were to have gone once more to Ravenna! But I think I will send an older ambassador, and keep the young one for myself. Shall I?"
Alexandros, becoming bolder and more ardent, sprang up and pressed a kiss upon her rosy lips.
"Hold, traitor!" she scolded, and struck his cheek lightly with a fan of flamingo-feathers. "Enough for to-day. To-morrow you may come again, and tell me about the barbarian beauties. I must have the next hour for another."
"For another!" cried Alexandros, starting back. "So what they whisper in the gymnasiums and baths of Byzantium is true! You ever faithless----"
"Theodora's friends must never be jealous," laughed the Empress. It was no sweet laughter. "But this time you may be quite easy; you shall meet him yourself. Go."
Galatea took the reluctant lover by the shoulders, without ceremony, and pushed him behind the statue and out of the secret door.
Theodora now seated herself upright, and fastened the loose folds of her long under-garment with her girdle.
Galatea appeared again immediately, accompanied by a little round-backed man, who looked much older than his forty-years justified. His wise, but pinched features, piercing eyes, and cunning mouth, made a disagreeable impression on all who observed him.
Theodora returned his creeping salutation by a slight nod. Galatea began to paint her eyebrows.
"Empress," the new-comer began, "I wonder at your courage. If I were seen here! A moment's rashness would render vain the prudence of nine years!"
"But you will not be seen, Petros," said Theodora quietly. "This is the only hour in which I am secure from Justinian's importunate tenderness. It is his hour of prayer. I must profit by it as much as I can. God preserve his piety! Galatea, my wine. What! Surely, thou dost not fear to leave me alone with this dangerous seducer?"
The old woman left the room with a hateful grin upon her lips, and soon returned with a jug of sweet heated Chian-wine in one hand, and a cup of honey and water in the other.
"I could not arrange our meeting in the church as usual, where, in the dark confessional, you look exactly like a priest. The Emperor will call you before church-time, and you must be thoroughly instructed beforehand."
"What is then to be done?"
"Petros," answered Theodora, leaning comfortably back and sipping the sweet mixture which Galatea now handed to her, "the day has come which will reward all our years of patience, and make you a great man."
"It is time, indeed!" observed Petros.
"Do not be impatient, friend.--Galatea, a little more honey.--In order to put you into the right humour for to-day's business, it will be well to remind you of the past, of the manner in which our--friendship originated."
"What mean you? Wherefore----"
"For many reasons. To begin. You were the cousin and adherent of my deadly enemy, Narses. Consequently, you were my enemy too. For years you acted against me in your cousin's service, hurting me but little, and still less benefiting yourself. For Narses, your virtuous friend, considers it a point of honour never to do anything for his relations; so that, unlike other courtiers of the realm, he may never be accused of nepotism. Out of pure friendship and virtue, he left you unpromoted. You remained a simple writer and a poor man. But a clever man like you knows how to help himself. You forged--you doubled the amount of the Emperor's dues. Besides what was demanded by the Emperor, the provinces paid another tax, which Petros and the tax-gatherers shared amongst themselves. For a time all went on smoothly. But once----"
"Empress, I beseech you!"
"I shall soon have finished, friend. But once you had the misfortune to have a new tax-gatherer, who valued the favour of the Empress more than the share of booty which you promised him. He entered into your plans, allowed you to forge the documents--and showed them to me!"
"The wretch!" murmured Petros.
"Yes, it was bad enough," said Theodora smiling, and setting down her glass. "So I had the neck of my sly enemy, the confidant of the hated eunuch, under my foot; and, I must confess, I had a great desire to trample upon him. But I sacrificed a short revenge for a great and enduring advantage. I called you to me, and told you to choose whether you would die or serve me for life. You were kind enough to choose the last, and, still the greatest enemies in the eyes of the world, we have secretly worked together for years. No sooner has Narses formed a plan, than you reveal it to me. I have rewarded you well. You are now a rich man."
"Not worth mentioning."
"Oh, indeed, ungrateful man! My treasurer knows better. You areveryrich."
"Yes, but without dignity or rank. My fellow-students are patricians, great men in the East and West; like Cethegus in Rome, and Procopius here."
"Patience! From this day you will quickly climb the ladder of ambition. It was necessary to keep something in reserve. Listen; to-morrow you go as ambassador to Ravenna."
"As imperial ambassador!" cried Petros, rejoiced.
"Through my influence. But that is not all. You will receive circumstantial directions from Justinian to undermine the kingdom of the Goths, and smooth the path of Belisarius in Italy."
"Shall I obey these directions, or not?"
"Obey them. But you will receive another order, which Justinian will particularly recommend to your notice; that is, to save the daughter of Theodoric from the hands of her enemies at any price, and bring her to Byzantium. Here is a letter from me to her, which presses her to take refuge in my arms."
"'Tis well," said Petros, taking the letter. "I will bring her here immediately."
Theodora, like an angry snake, started up on her couch with such impetuosity, that Petros and Galatea retreated in affright.
"No, no, Petros! no!" she exclaimed. "For this reason I send you. She mustnotcome to Byzantium! She must not live!"
Confounded, Petros let the letter fall.
"Oh, Empress!" he whispered; "murder?"
"Peace!" cried Theodora, in a hoarse voice; and her eyes sparkled cruelly. "She must die!"
"Die? Oh, Empress! wherefore?"
"There is no need for you to know that. But stay; I will tell you, for it will give the spur to your courage. Listen." She seized his arm wildly, and whispered in his ear, "Justinian, the traitor, has conceived a passion for her!"
"Theodora!" cried Petros, startled.
The Empress fell back upon her couch.
"But he has never seen her," stammered Petros.
"He has seen her portrait. He already dreams of her. He has fallen in love with her picture."
"You have never yet had a rival."
"No; nor ever will."
"You are so beautiful."
"Amalaswintha is younger."
"You are so wise; you are Justinian's counsellor the confidant of his most secret thoughts."
"It is just this which annoys him. And"--she again caught his arm--"remember, she is a King's daughter, a born ruler; and I--am the plebeian daughter of a lion-keeper! Ridiculous and insane though it be, Justinian, in his purple, forgets that he is the son of a shepherd from the Dardanelles. He has imbibed the madness of Kings; he, himself an adventurer, chatters about innate majesty, about the mystery of royal blood! I have no protection against such whims. I fear nothing from all the women in the world. But this King's daughter----" She angrily started up, and clenched her small fist. "Beware, Justinian!" she cried, pacing the room. "With this eye and hand I have subdued lions and tigers; let us see if I cannot keep this fox in royal purple at my feet." She re-seated herself. "In short, Amalaswintha dies," she said, suddenly becoming quite cool again.
"Yes," said Petros, "but not through me. You have bloodthirsty servants enough; send them. I am a man who will talk----"
"You are a man who will die if you do not obey! You, my supposed enemy, must do it. None of my friends can venture it without arousing suspicion."
"Theodora," said Petros, forgetting himself, "take care! To murder the daughter of Theodoric, a born Queen----"
"Ha, ha!" said Theodora, in a rage, "you, too, miserable man, are dazzled by the 'born Queen!' All men are fools, still more than rascals! Listen, Petros--the day when the news of her death arrives from Ravenna, you shall be a senator and a patrician."
The man's eyes sparkled, but cowardice or conscience were still stronger than ambition.
"No," he said decidedly, "I would rather lose the court and all my plans."
"You will lose your life, wretch!" cried Theodora. "Oh, you think you are safe, because I burnt the forged documents before your eyes! You fool! they were false! Look here; here I hold your life in my hands!"
She dragged a yellow parchment from a roll of documents, and showed it to Petros, who, completely subdued, fell upon his knees at her feet.
"Command me!" he stammered, "I obey." Just then a knocking was heard at the principal door.
"Away!" cried the Empress, "take my letter to the Queen from the ground, and think over what I have said: patrician if she dies, torture and death if she lives. Go!"
Galatea pushed the bewildered man through the secret entrance, turned the statue into its place again, and went to open the great door.
There entered a stately woman, taller and of coarser frame than the small and delicate Empress; not so seductively beautiful, but younger and more blooming, with a fresh complexion and natural manners.
"Welcome, Antonina, sister of my heart! Come to my arms!" cried the Empress to the new-comer, who humbly bent before her.
Antonina obeyed in silence.
"How hollow her eyes have become," she thought, as she rose from the embrace.
"How bony is the soldier's wife!" said the delicate Empress to herself, and looked at her friend.
"You are as blooming as Hebe!" she said aloud, "and how well the white silk becomes your fresh complexion. Have you anything to tell me of--of him?" she asked indifferently, and took from the wash-stand a much-dreaded instrument, a sharp lancet with an ivory handle, with which clumsy, or even only unfortunate, slaves were often pricked by their angry mistress.
"Not to-day," whispered Antonina, blushing. "I did not see him yesterday."
"I believe it!" said Theodora to herself, with a hidden smile.
"Oh, how painfully I shall miss you soon!" she added aloud, stroking Antonina's full round arm. "Perhaps Belisarius will sail next week, and you, most faithful of all wives, will go with him. Which of your friends will accompany you?"
"Procopius," answered Antonina, "and--" she added, casting down her eyes--"the two sons of Boëthius."
"Ah, indeed," remarked the Empress, smiling, "I understand. In the freedom of the camp you hope to please yourself with the handsome youth, undisturbed; and while our hero, Belisarius, fights battles and conquers cities----"
"You guess rightly. But I have a request to make. You are fortunate. Alexandros, your handsome friend, has returned; he remains near you, and is his own master; but Anicius, you know, is still under the strict guardianship of his elder brother, Severinus. Never would he--who thinks of nothing but fighting for freedom and revenge--suffer this tender friendship. He would repeatedly disturb our intimacy. Therefore do me a favour: do not let Severinus follow us! When we are on board with Anicius, keep the elder brother in Byzantium, either by cunning or by force. You can do it easily--you are the Empress!"
"That is not bad," laughed Theodora. "What stratagems! One can see that you have learned from Belisarius."
Antonina blushed violently.
"Oh, do not name him! Do not mock me! You know best from whom I learnt to do that for which I must blush."
Theodora shot a fierce glance at her friend, who, without noticing it, continued: "Heaven knows that Belisarius himself was not more faithful than I, until I came to this court! It was you, Empress, who taught me that these selfish men, occupied with affairs of state, war, and ambition, neglect us when they have become our husbands, and no longer value us when they possess us. You taught me that it is no sin to accept the innocent homage, the flattering devotion which is denied to us by our husbands, from friends who court us because they still hope. God is my witness, that it is nothing but this sweet incense which Belisarius denies me, and which my vain weak heart sorely needs, that I expect from Anicius."
"Fortunately for me, it will soon tire him out," said Theodora to herself.
"And yet," continued Antonina, "even this, I fear, is a sin against Belisarius. Oh, how great, how noble he is! If only he were not too great for this little heart." And she buried her face in her hands.
"The pitiful creature!" thought the Empress, "too weak for vice, as for virtue."
At this moment Agave, the beautiful Thessalian slave, entered the room with a large bunch of splendid roses.
"From him," she whispered to her mistress.
"From whom?" asked Theodora.
But Antonina just then looked up, and Agave made a sign of warning. The Empress, in order to occupy her, gave Antonina the roses.
"If you please, put them into that marble vase."
As Antonina turned her back upon them to obey, Agave whispered: "From him whom you kept hidden here all day yesterday; from the handsome Anicius," the pretty girl added, blushing.
But she had scarcely uttered the imprudent words, than she gave a loud cry, and held her left arm to her lips.
The Empress struck her in the face with the still bloody lancet.
"I will teach you to notice whether men are handsome or ugly," she cried furiously. "You will keep to the spinning-room for four weeks. Go at once! and do not show yourself again in my ante-rooms."
The weeping girl left the room, hiding her face in her dress.
"What has she done?" asked Antonina, coming forward.
"She let the scent-bottle fall," answered Galatea quickly, and picked one up from the floor. "Mistress, I have finished."
"Then let the dressers in, and whoever else waits in the ante-room. Will you, meanwhile, look at these verses, Antonina? They are the newest poems of Arator, 'The Deeds of the Apostles,' and very edifying. This particularly, 'The Stoning of St. Stephen.' But read, and judge for yourself."
Galatea opened wide the doors of the principal entrance. A whole troop of slaves and freed-women streamed in. Some occupied themselves with clearing away the articles of toilet hitherto used; others swung censers with aromatic incense, or sprinkled balsam about the room from narrow-necked flasks. But most of them were busy about the person of the Empress, who now completed her toilet.
Galatea took off the rose-coloured tunic.
"Berenice," she cried, "bring the Milesian tunic, with the purple stripe and gold tassels. To-day is Sunday ."
While the experienced old woman was artfully fastening into the knot of the Empress's hair a costly gold needle, its head formed of a gem, engraved with a head of Venus, the Empress asked: "What news, from the city, Delphine?"
"You have won, mistress!" answered Delphine, kneeling down with the gilded sandals; "your colours, the blue, have beaten the green; both with the horses and the chariots!"
"What a triumph!" cried Theodora joyfully. "A bet of two centenaria of gold; it is mine! News? Whence? from Italy?" she cried to a slave who just entered with letters.
"Yes, mistress, from Florence; from the Gothic Princess, Gothelindis. I know the Gorgon-seal; and from Silverius, the archdeacon."
"Give me them," said Theodora, "I will take them with me to church. The mirror, Elpis."
A young slave came forward with an oval plate of brilliantly-polished silver, in a gold frame, richly set with pearls, and standing on a strong foot of ivory.
Poor Elpis had a hard service.
During the completion of the toilet she had to hold the heavy plate, and, following every movement of her restless mistress, turn it, so that the latter could always look at her own reflection, and woe to Elpis if she were too late in turning!
"What is there to buy, Zephyris?" the Empress asked a dark-skinned Lybian freed-woman, who just then brought her a tame snake to caress, which lay in a small basket upon soft moss.
"Oh, nothing particular," answered the Lybian. "Come, Glauke," she added, taking a snowy white chlamys, embroidered with gold, from a clothes-press, and carefully spreading it out upon her arms, waited until Glauke took it from her, and, at one throw, arranged it in graceful folds upon the shoulders of the Empress, clasping it with the white girdle, and fastening one end upon her pearly shoulder with a golden brooch, which, formed in the shape of the dove of Venus, now represented the sign of the Holy Ghost.
Glauke, the daughter of an Athenian sculptor, had studied the folds of the chlamys for years, and for this reason had been bought by the Empress at a cost of many thousand solidi. The whole day long this was her sole occupation.
"Sweet-scented soap-balls," said Zephyris, "have just arrived from Spain. A new Milesian fairy-tale has just come out. And the old Egyptian is there again, with his Nile-water," she added in a low tone; "he says it is unfailing. The Persian Queen, who was childless for eight years----"
Theodora turned away sighing; a shadow passed across her smooth face.
"Send him away," she said; "this hope is past forever." And, for a moment, it seemed as if she would have sunk into a melancholy reverie.
But she roused herself, and, beckoning to Galatea, she went back to her bed, took a crushed wreath of ivy which lay upon the pillow, and gave it to the old woman, whispering:
"For Anicius, send it to him. The jewels, Erigone!"
Erigone, with the help of two other slaves, brought forward, with great trouble, a heavy bronze casket, the lid of which, representing the workshop of Vulcan in embossed figures, was closed with the seal of the Empress.
Erigone showed that the seal was intact, and then opened the lid. Many a girl stood upon her tiptoes to catch a glance at the shining treasures.
"Will you wear the summer rings, mistress?" asked Erigone.
"No," said Theodora, looking into the casket, "the time for those is over. Give me the heavy ones, the emeralds."
Erigone handed to her rings, earrings, and bracelet.
"How beautifully," said Antonina, looking up from her pious verses, "how beautifully the white of the pearls contrasts with the green of the stones."
"It was one of Cleopatra's treasures," said the Empress indifferently; "the Jew swore to its pedigree."
"But you linger long," said Antonina. "Justinian's litter was already waiting as I came up."
"Yes, mistress," said a young slave anxiously, "the slave at the sundial has already announced the fourth hour. Hasten, mistress!"
A prick with the lancet was the only answer.
"Would you teach your Empress!" but she whispered to Antonina: "We must not spoil the men; they must always wait for us, never we for them. My ostrich fan, Thais. Go, Ione, tell the Cappadocian slaves to come to my litter." And she turned to go.
"Oh, Theodora!" cried Antonina quickly, "do not forget my request."
"No," answered Theodora, suddenly standing still, "certainly not! And that you may be quite sure, I will give the order into your own hands. My wax-tablets and the stylus!"
Galatea brought them in haste.
Theodora wrote, and whispered to her friend:
"The Prefect of the harbour is one of my old friends. He blindly obeys me. Read what I write."