* * * * *
Suddenly the Queen has announced a project which fills the city with astonishment at its boldness, and once more lights up hope within the bosoms of the most desponding.
Soon as her own mind had conceived and matured it, her friends and counsellors were summoned to receive it from her, and pronounce their judgment. Would that I could set before you, my Curtius, this wonderful woman as she stood before us at this interview. Never before did she seem so great, or of such transcendent beauty--if under such circumstances such a thought may be expressed. Whatever of melancholy had for so long a time shed its gloom over her features was now gone. The native fire of her eye was restored and doubled, as it seemed, by the thoughts which she was waiting to express. A spirit greater than even her own, appeared to animate her, and to breathe an unwonted majesty into her form, and over the countenance.
She greeted all with the warmth of a friend, and besought them to hear her while she presented a view of the present condition of their affairs, and then proposed what she could not but believe might still prove a means of final deliverance--at least, it might deserve their careful consideration. After having gone over the course that had been pursued and defended it, as that alone which became the dignity and honor of a sovereign and independent power, she proceeded thus:
'We are now, it is obvious to all, at the last extremity. If no new outlet be opened from the difficulties which environ us, a few days will determine our fate. We must open our gates and take such mercy as our conquerors may bestow. The provision laid up in the public granaries is nearly exhausted. Already has it been found necessary greatly to diminish the amount of the daily distribution. Hope in any power of our own seems utterly extinct: if any remain, it rests upon foreign interposition, and of this I do not despair. I still rely upon Persia. I look with confidence to Sapor for farther and yet larger succors. In the former instance, it was apprehended by many--I confess I shared the apprehension--that there would be on the part of Persia but a parade of friendship, with nothing of reality. But you well know it was far otherwise. There was a sincere and vigorous demonstration in our behalf. Persia never fought a better field, and with slightly larger numbers would have accomplished our rescue. My proposition is, that we sue again at the court of Sapor--no, not again, for the first was a free-will offering--and that we fail not, I would go myself my own ambassador, and solicit what so solicited, my life upon it, will not be refused. You well know that I can bear with me jewels gathered during a long reign of such value as to plead eloquently in my cause, since the tithe of them would well repay the Persian for all his kingdom might suffer for our sakes.'
'What you propose, great Queen,' said Longinus, as Zenobia paused, 'agrees with your whole life. But how can we, who hold you as we do, sit in our places and allow you alone to encounter the dangers of such an enterprise? For without danger it cannot be--from the robber of the desert, from the Roman, from the Persian.' In disguise and upon the road, you may suffer the common fate of those who travel where, as now, marauders of all nations swarm; Sapor may, in his capricious policy, detain you prisoner; Aurelian may intercept. Let your servants prevail with you to dismiss this thought from your mind. You can name no one of all this company who will not plead to be your substitute.'
There was not one present who did not spring upon his feet, and express his readiness to undertake the charge.
'I thank you all,' said the Queen, 'but claim, in this perhaps the last act of my reign, to be set free in your indulgence to hold an unobstructed course. If in your honest judgments you confess that of all who could appear at the court of Sapor, I should appear there as the most powerful pleader for Palmyra, it is all I ask you to determine. Is such your judgment?'
'It is,' they all responded--'without doubt it is.'
'Then am I resolved. And the enterprise itself you judge wise and of probable success?'
'We do. The reasons are just upon which it is founded. It is greatly conceived, and the gods giving you safe conduct to Sapor, we cannot doubt a happy result.'
'Then all that remains is, to contrive the manner of escape from the city and through the Roman camp.'
'There is first one thing more,' said the Princess Julia, suddenly rising from her mother's side, but with a forced and trembling courage, 'which remains for me to do. If there appear any want of maidenly reserve in what I say, let the cause, good friends, for which I speak and act, be my excuse. It is well known to you who are familiar with the councils of the state, that not many months past Persia sought through me an alliance with Palmyra. But in me, you, my mother and Queen, have hitherto found an uncomplying daughter--and you, Fathers, a self-willed Princess. I now seek what before I have shunned. Although I know not the Prince Hormisdas--report speaks worthily of him--but of him I think not--yet if by the offer of myself I could now help the cause of my country, the victim is ready for the altar. Let Zenobia bear with her not only the stones torn from her crown, but this which she so often has termed her living jewel, and if the others, first proffered, fail to reach the Persian's heart, then, but not till then, add the other to the scale. If it weigh to buy deliverance and prosperity to Palmyra--though I can never be happy--yet I shall be happy if the cause of happiness to you.'
'My noble child!' said Zenobia, 'I cannot have so startled the chiefs of Palmyra by a new and unthought-of project, as I am now amazed in my turn. I dreamed not of this. But I cannot hinder you in your purpose. It ensures success to your country; and to be the instrument of that, will be a rich compensation for even the largest sacrifice of private affections.'
The counsellors and senators who were present expressed a great, and I doubt not sincere unwillingness that so dangerous a service should be undertaken by those whom they so loved, and whom beyond all others they would shield with their lives from the very shadow of harm. But they were overcome by the determined spirit both of the Queen and Julia, and by their own secret conviction that it was the only act in the power of mortals by which the existence of the empire and city could be preserved.
At this point of the interview, Calpurnius, whom we had missed, entered, and learning what had passed, announced that by a channel not to be mistrusted, he had received intelligence of a sudden rising in Persia, of the assassination of Sapor, and the elevation of Hormisdas to the throne of his father. This imparted to all the liveliest pleasure, and seemed to take away from the project of the Queen every remaining source of disquietude and doubt. Calpurnius at the same moment was besought, and offered himself to serve as the Queen's companion and guide. The chosen friend of Hormisdas, and whose friendship he had not forfeited by his flight--no one could so well as he advocate her cause with the new king.
'But how is it,' inquired Longinus, 'that you obtain foreign intelligence, the city thus beset?'
'It may well be asked,' replied Calpurnius. 'It is through the intelligence and cunning of a Jew well known in Palmyra, and throughout the world I believe, called Isaac. By him was I rescued from Persian captivity, and through him have I received letters thence, ever since the city has been besieged. He is acquainted with a subterranean passage--in the time of Trajan, he has informed me, a public conduit, but long since much choked and dry--by which one may pass from the city under and beyond the lines of the Roman intrenchments, emerging into a deep ravine or fissure, grown thickly over with vines and olives. Once it was of size sufficient to admit an elephant with his rider; now, he says, has it become so obstructed, and in some places so fallen in, that it is with difficulty that a dromedary of but the common size can force his way through.'
'Through this then the Queen may effect her escape,' said Longinus.
'With perfect ease and security,' rejoined Calpurnius. 'At the outlet, Isaac shall be in waiting with the fleetest dromedaries of the royal stables.'
'We are satisfied,' said Longinus; 'let it be as you say. The gods prosper the pious service!'
So ended the conversation.
Of the ancient aqueduct or conduit, you have already heard from me; it is the same by which Isaac has transmitted my late letters to Portia--which I trust you have received and read. To Portia alone--be not offended--do I pour out my whole soul. From her learn more of what relates to the Princess.
I returned from the palace of Zenobia overwhelmed with a thousand painful sensations. But this I need not say.
Fausta, upon learning the determination of the Queen, which had been communicated not even to her, exclaimed--'There, Lucius, I have always told you Palmyra brought forth women! Where in the wide world shall two be found to match Zenobia and Julia? But when is the time fixed for the flight?'
'To-morrow night.'
'I will to the palace. These may be the last hours permitted by the gods to our friendship. I must not lose one of them.'
I went not there again.
Late on the evening of the following day Fausta returned--her countenance betraying what she had suffered in parting from those two, her bosom friends. It was long ere she could possess herself so far as to give to Gracchus and myself a narrative of what had occurred. To do it, asked but few words.
'We have passed the time,' she said at length, 'as you might suppose those would about to be separated--forever; yes, I feel that I have seen them for the last time. It is like a conviction inspired by the gods. We did naught till the hour of attiring for the flight arrived, but sit, look upon each other, embrace, and weep. Not that Zenobia, always great, lost the true command of herself, or omitted aught that should be done; but that she was a woman, and a mother, and a friend, as well as a Queen and a divinity. But I can say no more.'
'Yet one thing,' she suddenly resumed; 'alas! I had well nigh forgotten it--it should have been said first. What think you? the Indian slave, Sindarina, was to accompany the Queen, but at the hour of departure she was missing. Her chamber was empty--the Arabian disguise, in which all were to be arrayed, lying on her bed--she herself to be found neither there nor any where within the palace. Another of the Queen's women was chosen in her place. What make you of it?'
'Treason!--treachery!' cried Gracchus, and springing from his seat, shouted for a horse.
'The gods forgive me,' cried the afflicted Gracchus, 'that this has been forgotten! Why, why did I not lay to heart the hints which you dropped!'
'In very truth,' I replied, 'they were almost too slight to build even a suspicion upon. The Queen heeded them not--and I myself had dismissed them from my mind not less than yourself.'
'Not a moment is to be lost,' said Gracchus; 'the slave must be found, and all whom we suspect seized.'
The night was passed in laborious search, both of the slave and Antiochus. The whole city was abroad in a common cause. All the loose companions of Antiochus and the young princes were taken and imprisoned; the suspected leaders in the affair, after a scrutinizing search and public proclamation, could not be found. The inference was clear, agonizing as clear, that the Queen's flight had been betrayed.
Another day has revealed the whole. Isaac, who acted as guide through the conduit, and was to serve in the same capacity till the party were secure within a Persian fortress, not far from the banks of the Euphrates, has, by a messenger, a servant of the palace, found means to convey a relation of what befel after leaving Palmyra.
'Soon,' he says, 'as the shades of evening fell, the Queen, the Princess Julia, Nichomachus, a slave, and Calpurnius, arrayed in the garb of Arabs of the desert, together with a guard of ten soldiers, selected for their bravery and strength, met by different routes at the mouth of the old conduit. So noble a company had I never before the charge of. Thou wouldst never have guessed the Queen through the veil of her outlandish garment. She became it well. Not one was more a man than she. For the Princess, a dull eye would have seen through her. Entering a little way in utter darkness, I then bid them stand while I lighted torches. The Queen was near me the while, and asked me the length of the passage, and whether the walls were of that thickness as to prevent the voice from being heard above.
'"Till we reach one particular spot, where the arch is partly fallen in," I said, "we may use our tongues as freely and as loud as we please; at that place there will be need of special caution, as it is directly beneath the Roman intrenchments. Of our approach thereto I will give timely warning."
'I took occasion to say, that I was sorry the Queen of Palmyra should be compelled to pass through so gloomy a cavern, but doubtless he who was with Deborah and Judith would not forsake her who was so fast a friend to his people, and who, if rumor might be believed, was even herself one of them. This, Roman, you will doubtless think bold; but how could one who was full refrain? I even added, "Fear not; he who watches over Judah and Israel, will not fail to appear for one by whose arm their glories are to be restored." The Queen at that smiled, and if a countenance may be read, which I hold it can, as well as a book, it spoke favorable things for Jerusalem.
'When our torches were kindled, we went on our way; a narrow way and dark. We went in silence too, for I quickly discerned that minds and hearts were too busy with themselves and their own sorrows and fears to choose to be disturbed. Ah, Roman, how many times harder the lot of the high than the low! When we drew nigh to the fissure in the arch, the torches were again extinguished, and we proceeded at a snail's pace and with a hyena's foot while we were passing within a few feet of the then, as I doubted not, sleeping Romans. As we came beneath the broken and open part, I was startled by the sound of voices. Soldiers were above conversing. As we paused through apprehension, a few words were distinctly heard.
'"The times will not bear it," muttered one. "'Tis a vain attempt."
'"His severity is cruel," said another. "Gods! when before was it heard of, that a soldier, and such a one, for what every one does whom chance favors, should be torn limb from limb? The trees that wrenched Stilcho asunder, ere they grow too stiff, may serve a turn on 'Hand-to-his-Sword' himself. He will fatten on these starved citizens when he climbs over their walls."
'"O no, by Jupiter!" said the first, "it is far likelier he will let them off, as he did at Tyana, and we lose our sport. It is his own soldiers' blood he loves."
'"He may yet learn," replied the other, "that soldiers wear weapons for one purpose as well as another. Hark! what noise was that?"
'"It was but some rat at work within this old arch, Come, let us to bed."
'They moved away, and we, breathing again, passed along, and soon re-lighted our torches.
'After walking a weary distance from this point, and encountering many obstacles, we at length reached the long-desired termination. The dromedaries were in readiness, and mounting them without delay, we ascended the steep sides of the ravine, and then at a rapid pace sought the open plains. When they were attained, I considered that we were out of all danger from the Romans, and had only to apprehend the ordinary dangers of this route during a time of war, when freebooters of all the neighboring tribes are apt to abound. "Here," I said to the Queen, "we will put our animals to their utmost speed, as the way is plain and smooth--having regard only," I added, "to your and the Princess's strength."--"On, on, in the name of the gods!" said they both; "we can follow as fast as you shall lead." And on we flew with the speed of the wind. The Queen's animals were like spirits of the air, with such amazing fleetness and sureness of foot did they shoot over the surface of the earth. The way was wholly our own. We met none; we saw none. Thrice we paused to relieve those not accustomed to such speed, or to the peculiar motion of this animal. But at each resting place, the Queen with impatience hastened us away, saying, that "rest could be better had at once when we had crossed the river; and once upon the other bank, and we were safe."
'The first flush of morning was upon the sky as we came within sight of the valley of the Euphrates. The river was itself seen faintly gleaming as we wound down the side of a gentle hill. The country here was broken, as it had been for many of the last miles we had rode--divided by low ridges, deep ravines, and stretches of wood and bush. So that to those approaching the banks in the same general direction, many distinct paths offered themselves. It was here, O Piso, just as we reached the foot of this little hill, riding more slowly by reason of the winding road, that my quick ear caught at a distance the sounds of other hoofs upon the ground beside our own. My heart sank within me--a sudden faintness spread over my limbs. But at the instant I gave the alarm to our troop, and at greatest risk of life and limb we put our beasts to their extreme speed, and dashed toward the river. I still, as we rode, turning my ear in the direction of the sound, heard with distinctness the clatter of horses' hoofs. Our beasts were dromedaries; in that lay my hope. Two boats awaited us among the rushes on the river's bank, in the keeping of those who had been sent forward for that purpose; and off against them, upon the other side of the stream, lay a small Persian village and fortress. Once off in the boats but ever so short a distance, and we were safe. On we flew, and on I was each moment conscious came pursuers, whoever they might be. We reached the river's edge.--"Quick! for your lives," I cried. "The Queen, the Princess, and four men in this boat; the packages in the other." In a moment and less than that, we were in our boat, a troop of horse at the same instant sweeping like a blast of the desert down the bank of the river. We shot into the stream; but ere the other could gain the water, the Romans, as we now too plainly saw them to be, were upon them. A brief but desperate strife ensued. The Romans were five for one of the others, and quickly putting them to the sword, sprang into their boat.
'"Pull! pull!" cried the Queen, the first words she had uttered, "for your lives and Palmyra!" They gained upon us. We had six oars, they eight. But the strength of three seemed to nerve the arm of Calpurnius.
'"Immortal gods!" cried he, in inexpressible agony, "they near us!" and straining with redoubled energy his oar snapped, and the boat whirled from her course.
'"All is lost!" ejaculated Zenobia.
'A Roman voice was now heard, "Yield you, and your lives are safe."
'"Never," cried Calpurnius, and as the Roman boat struck against ours, he raised his broken oar, and aiming at him who had spoken, lost his balance and plunged headlong into the stream,
'"Save him--save him!" cried the Queen, but they heeded her not. "It is vain to contend," she cried out again; "we yield, but save the life of him who has fallen."
'The light was yet not sufficient to see but to a little distance. Nothing was visible upon the smooth surface of the water, nor any sound heard.
'"His own rash fury has destroyed him," said the Roman, who we now could discern bore the rank of Centurion.
'"We seek," said he, turning toward where the Queen sat, "we seek Zenobia, Queen of Palmyra."
'"I am Zenobia," said the Queen.
'"The gods be praised therefor!" rejoined the Centurion. "Our commands are to bear you to the tent of Aurelian."
'"Do with me as you list," replied the Queen; "I am in your power."
'"To the shore," exclaimed the Roman; and our boat, fastened to the other, was soon at the place whence but a moment before it had parted.
'"Who are these?" asked the Centurion, as we reached the shore, pointing to the Princess, and the attendant slave and secretary. "Our orders extend only to the person of the Queen."
'"Divide them not," I said, willing to spare the Queen the bandying of words with a Roman soldier, "they are of the Queen's family. They are a part of herself. If thou takest one take all to thy Emperor."
'"So be it; and now to your horses, and once more over the plain. It shall go hard, but that what we carry with us will make our fortune with Aurelian."
'Saying this, the whole troop formed, placing Zenobia and Julia in the midst, and winding up the banks of the river disappeared.
'Such, O unhappy Piso, was this disastrous night. Surely all was done on our part to secure a successful issue. I can discern no defect nor fault. We could not have been more fleet. Swifter beasts never trod the sands of Arabia. What then? Hath there not been, think you, foul play? Whence got the Romans knowledge, not only of our flight, but of the very spot for which we aimed? I doubt not there has been treachery--and that too of the very color of hell. Look to it, and let not the guilty go free.
'One word touching thy brother. Despond not. I cannot think that he is lost. We were but a furlong from the shore. My belief is, that seeing the capture of the Queen was certain, and that to him, if taken with her in arms against his country, death was inevitable, he, when he fell, rose again at a safe distance, and will yet be found.
'These things I send in haste by a returning servant of the palace, I remaining both to secure the dromedaries now wandering at will along the banks of the river, and to search diligently for Calpurnius, whom I trust to bear back with me to Palmyra.'
Here, my Curtius, was food for meditation and grief--the renowned Queen of this brilliant capital and kingdom, so late filling a throne that drew the admiration of the world, sitting there in a proud magnificence that cast into shade Persia itself, is in one short night shorn of all her power; a captive at the mercy of a cruel foe; Julia also a captive; my brother, so late redeemed--as I cannot but suppose--dead. I need not nor can I tell you with what emotions I read the fatal letter. The same messenger who delivered it to me had spread through the city the news of the Queen's captivity. What related to Calpurnius I determined to conceal from Fausta, since it was at least possible that by communicating it I might cause a useless suffering.
Fausta, upon learning the horrors of the night, which she first did from the outcries and lamentations in the streets, seemed more like one dead than alive. She could not weep; the evil was too great for tears. And there being no other way in which to give vent to the grief that wrung her soul in every feeling and affection, I trembled lest reason should be hurled from its seat. She wandered from room to room, her face of the hue of death--but indicating life enough in its intense expression of inward pain--and speechless, save that at intervals in a low tone, 'Zenobia! Palmyra!' fell from her scarcely moving lips. To Gracchus and myself essaying to divert her from thoughts that seemed to prey upon her very life, she said, 'Leave me to wrestle alone with my grief; it is the way to strength. I do not doubt that I shall find it.'
'She is right,' said Gracchus; 'to overcome she must fight her own battle. Our aid but ministers to her weakness.'
It was not long before she rejoined us, tears having brought relief to her over-burdened heart.
Her first inquiry now was for Calpurnius. 'I have feared to ask, for if he too is captive, I know that he is lost. Now I can hear and bear all. How is it, Lucius?'
I answered, that 'he was not a captive, so much was known; but where he now was, or what had befallen him, was not known. I had reason to believe that he would find his way back through the guidance of Isaac to the city.'
'Alas! I read in your words his fate. But I will not urge you farther. I will live upon all the hope I can keep alive. Yet it is not the death of Calpurnius--nor yet of Zenobia--nor Julia--that wrings the soul and saps its life, like this bitter, bitter disappointment, this base treason of Antiochus. To be so near the summit of our best hopes, only to be cast down into this deep abyss--that is the sting in our calamity that shoots deepest, and for which there is no cure. Is there no other way, father, in which we can explain the capture of the Queen? Accident--could it not be accident that threw the troop of Aurelian in their way?'
'I fear not,' said Gracchus. 'When we add what rumor has heretofore reported of the aims of Antiochus, but which we have all too much contemned him to believe him capable of, to what has now occurred, I think we cannot doubt that he is the author of the evil, seducing into his plot the Queen's slave, through whom he received intelligence of every plan and movement.'
'Ah, cruel treachery! How can one join together the sweet innocent face of Sindarina and such deep hypocrisy! Antiochus surely must have perverted her by magic arts. Of that I am sure. But what fruit can Antiochus hope his treason shall bear for him? Can he think that Palmyra will endure his rule?'
'That,' replied Gracchus, 'must be his hope. The party of the discontented we well know to be large; upon them he thinks he may rely. Then his treason recommending him to Aurelian, he builds upon his power to establish him on the throne, and sustain him there till his own strength shall have grown, so that he can stand alone. That the city will surrender upon the news of the Queen's captivity, he doubtless calculates upon as certain.'
'May his every hope,' cried Fausta, 'be blasted, and a little of the misery he has poured without stint into our hearts wring his own, and when he cries for mercy, may he find none!'
'One hope,' I said here, 'if I know aught of the nature of Aurelian, and upon which he must chiefly found his project, will sink under him to his shame and ruin.'
'What mean you?' said Fausta eagerly.
'His belief that Aurelian will reward baseness though to an enemy. He never did it yet, and he cannot do it. Were there within the thick skull of Antiochus the brains of a foolish ostrich, he would have read in the fate of Heraclammon, the rich traitor of Tyana, his own. If I err not, he has indiscreetly enough thrust himself into a lion's den. If Aurelian is fierce, his is the grand and terrific ferocity of the king of beasts.'
'May it be so!' said Fausta. 'There were no providence in the gods did such villany escape punishment, still less, did it grow great. But if Aurelian is such as you describe him, O then is there not reason in the belief that he will do gently by her? Were it compatible with greatness or generosity--and these, you say, belong to the Emperor--to take revenge upon an enemy, thrown by such means into his power? and such an enemy? and that too a woman? Julia too! O immortal gods, how bitter past drinking is this cup!'
'Yet must you, must we, not lean too confidently upon the dispositions of Aurelian. He is subject, though supreme, to the state, nay, and in some sense to the army; and what he might gladly do of his own free and generous nature, policy and the contrary wishes and sometimes requisitions of his troops, or of the people, compel him to forbear. The usage of Rome toward captive princes has been, and is, cruel. Yet the Emperor does much to modify it, giving it, according to his own temper, a more or less savage character. And Aurelian has displayed great independence in his acts, both of people and soldiers. There is much ground for hope--but it must not pass into confident expectation.'
'You, Lucius, in former days have known Aurelian well, before fortune raised him to this high eminence. You say you were his friend. Could you not--'
'No, I fear with scarce any hope of doing good. My residence here during all these troubles will, I doubt not, raise suspicions in the mind of Aurelian which it will not be easy to allay. But whenever I shall have it in my power to present myself before him, I shall not fail to press upon him arguments which, if he shall act freely, cannot I think but weigh with him.'
'Ought not the city now,' said Fausta, addressing Gracchus, 'to surrender, and, if it can do no better, throw itself upon the mercy of Aurelian? I see not now what can be gained by longer resistance, and would not a still protracted refusal to capitulate, and when it must be without the faintest expectation of ultimate success, tend merely and with certainty to exasperate Aurelian, and perhaps embitter him toward the Queen?'
'I can scarcely doubt that it would,' replied Gracchus. 'The city ought to surrender. Soon as the first flood of grief has spent itself, must we hasten to accomplish it if possible. Longinus, to whom will now be entrusted the chief power, will advocate it I am sure--so will Otho, Seleucus, Gabrayas; but the army will, I fear, be opposed to it, and will, more through a certain pride of their order than from any principle, incline to hold out.--It is time I sought Longinus.'
He departed in search of the Greek. I went forth into the streets to learn the opinions and observe the behavior of the people.
* * * * *
The shades of night are around me--the palace is still--the city sleeps. I resume my pen to add a few words to this epistle, already long, but they are words that convey so much that I cannot but add them for my own pleasure not less than yours. They are in brief these,--Calpurnius is alive and once again returned to us. The conjecture of Isaac was a description of the truth. My brother, knowing well that if apprehended his death were certain, had in the outset resolved, if attacked, rather to provoke his death, and insure it in the violence of a conflict, than be reserved for the axe of the Roman executioner. But in the short moment in which he fell headlong into the river, it flashed across his mind--'The darkness favors my escape--I can reach the shore;' so swimming a short distance below the surface, falling down with the stream and softly rising, concealed himself among the reeds upon the margin of the stream. Finding the field in a short time wholly in possession of Isaac, he revealed himself and joined him, returning to the city as soon as the darkness of the night permitted. Here is a little gleam of light breaking through Fausta's almost solid gloom. A smile has once more played over her features.
In the evening after Calpurnius's return, she tried her harp, but the sounds it gave out only seemed to increase her sorrow, and she threw it from her.
'Music,' said Gracchus, 'is in its nature melancholy, and how, my child, can you think to forget or stifle grief by waking the strings of your harp, whose tones, of all other instruments, are the most melancholy? And yet sometimes sadness seeks sadness, and finds in it its best relief. But now, Fausta? rather let sleep be your minister and nurse.'
So we parted. Farewell.
It were a vain endeavor, my Curtius, to attempt to describe the fever of indignation, and rage, and grief, that burned in the bosoms of this unhappy people, as soon as it was known that their Queen was a captive in the hands of the Romans. Those imprisoned upon suspicion of having been concerned in her betrayal would have been torn from their confinement, and sacrificed to the wrath of the citizens, in the first hours of their excitement, but for the formidable guard by which the prisons were defended. The whole population seemed to be in the streets and public places, giving and receiving with eagerness such intelligence as could be obtained. Their affliction is such as it would be had each one lost a parent or a friend. The men rave, or sit, or wander about listless and sad; the women weep; children catch the infection, and lament as for the greatest misfortune that could have overtaken them. The soldiers, at first dumb with amazement at so unlooked-for and unaccountable a catastrophe, afterward, upon learning that it fell out through the treason of Antiochus, bound themselves by oaths never to acknowledge or submit to his authority, though Aurelian himself should impose him upon them, nay, to sacrifice him to the violated honor of the empire, if ever he should fall into their power.
Yet all are not such. The numbers are not contemptible of those who, openly or secretly, favor the cause and approve the act of Antiochus. He has not committed so great a crime without some prospect of advantage from it, nor without the assurance that a large party of the citizens, though not the largest, is with him, and will adhere to his fortunes. These are they, who think, and justly think, that the Queen has sacrificed the country to her insane ambition and pride. They cleave to Antiochus, not from personal regard toward him, but because he seems more available for their present purposes than any other, principally through his fool-hardy ambition; and, on the other hand, they abandon the Queen, not for want of personal affection, equal perhaps to what exists in any others, but because they conceive that the power of Rome is too mighty to contend with, and that their best interests rather than any extravagant notions of national honor, ought to prompt their measures.
The city will now give itself up, it is probable, upon the first summons of Aurelian. The council and the senate have determined that to hold out longer than a few days more is impossible. The provisions of the public granaries are exhausted, and the people are already beginning to be pinched with hunger. The rich, and all who have been enabled to subsist upon their own stores, are now engaged in distributing what remains among the poorer sort, who are now thrown upon their compassion. May it not be, that I am to be a witness of a people dying of hunger! Gracchus and Fausta are busily employed in relieving the wants of the suffering.
We have waited impatiently to hear the fate of the Queen. Many reports have prevailed, founded upon what has been observed from the walls. At one time, it has been said that she had perished under the hands of the executioner--at another, that the whole Roman camp had been seen to be thrown into wild tumult, and that she had doubtless fallen a sacrifice to the ungovernable fury of the licentious soldiery, I cannot think either report probable. Aurelian, if he revenged himself by her death, would reserve her for execution on the day of his triumph. But he would never tarnish his glory by such an act. And for the soldiers--I am sure of nothing more than that they are under too rigid a discipline, and hold Aurelian in too great terror, to dare to commit a violence like that which has been imputed to them.
At length--for hours are months in such suspense--we are relieved. Letters have come from Nichomachus to both Longinus and Livia,
First, their sum is, the Queen lives!
I shall give you what I gather from them.
'When we had parted,' writes the secretary, 'from the river's edge, we were led at a rapid pace over the same path we had just come, to the neighborhood of the Roman camp. I learned from what I overheard of the conversation of the Centurion with his companion at his side, that the flight of the Queen had been betrayed. But beyond that, nothing.
'We were taken not at once to the presence of Aurelian, but lodged in one of the abandoned palaces in the outskirts of the city--that of Seleucus, if I err not--where? the Queen being assigned the apartments needful for her and her effects, a guard was set around the building.
'Here we had remained not long, yet long enough for the Queen to exchange her disguise for her usual robes, when it was announced by the Centurion that we must proceed to the tent of the Emperor. The Queen and the Princess were placed in a close litter, and conveyed secretly there, out of fear of the soldiers, "who," said the Centurion, "if made aware of whom we carry, would in their rage tear to fragments and scatter to the winds both the litter and its burden."
'We were in this manner borne through the camp to the tent of Aurelian. As we entered, the Emperor stood at its upper end, surrounded by the chief persons of his army. He advanced to meet the Queen, and in his changing countenance and disturbed manner might it be plainly seen how even an Emperor, and he the Emperor of the world, felt the presence of a majesty such as Zenobia's. And never did our great mistress seem more a Queen than now--not through that commanding pride which, when upon her throne, has impressed all who have approached her with a feeling of inferiority, but through a certain dark and solemn grandeur that struck with awe, as of some superior being, those who looked upon her. There was no sign of grief upon her countenance, but many of a deep and rooted sadness, such as might never pass away. No one could behold her and not lament the fortune that had brought her to such a pass. Whoever had thought to enjoy the triumph of exulting over the royal captive, was rebuked by that air of calm dignity and profound melancholy, which even against the will, touched the hearts of all, and forced their homage.
'"It is a happy day for Rome," said Aurelian, approaching and saluting her, "that sees you, lately Queen of Palmyra and of the East, a captive in the tent of Aurelian."
'"And a dark one for my afflicted country," replied the Queen.
'"It might have been darker," rejoined the emperor, "had not the good providence of the gods delivered you into my hands."
'"The gods preside not over treachery. And it must have been by treason among those in whom I have placed my most familiar trust, that I am now where and what I am. I can but darkly surmise by whose baseness the act has been committed. It had been a nobler triumph to you, Roman, and a lighter fall to me, had the field of battle decided the fate of my kingdom, and led me a prisoner to your tent."
'"Doubtless it had been so," replied Aurelian; "yet was it for me to cast away what chance threw into my power? A war is now happily ended, which, had your boat reached the further bank of the Euphrates, might yet have raged--and but to the mutual harm of two great nations. Yet it was both a bold and sagacious device, and agrees well with what was done by you at Antioch, Emesa, and now in the defence of your city, A more determined, a better appointed, or more desperate foe, I have never yet contended with."
'"It were strange, indeed," replied the Queen, "if you met not with a determined foe, when life and liberty were to be defended. Had not treason, base and accursed treason, given me up like a chained slave to your power, yonder walls must have first been beaten piecemeal down by your engines, and buried me beneath their ruins, and famine clutched all whom the sword had spared, ere we had owned you master. What is life, when liberty and independence are gone?"
'"But why, let me ask," said Aurelian? "were you moved to assert an independency of Rome? How many peaceful and prosperous years have rolled on since Trajan and the Antonines, while you and Rome were at harmony; a part of us and yet independent; allies rather than a subject province; using our power for your defence; yet owning no allegiance. Why was this order disturbed? What madness ruled to turn you against the power of Rome?"
'"The same madness," replied Zenobia, "that tells Aurelian he may yet possess the whole world, and sends him here into the far East to wage needless war with a woman--Ambition! Yet had Aurelian always been upon the Roman throne, or one resembling him, it had perhaps been different. There then could have been naught but honor in any alliance that had bound together Rome and Palmyra. But was I, was the late renowned Odenatus, to confess allegiance to base souls such as Aureolus, Gallienus, Balista? While the thirty tyrants were fighting for the Roman crown, was I to sit still, waiting humbly to become the passive prey of whosoever might please to call me his? By the immortal gods, not so! I asserted my supremacy, and made it felt; and in times of tumult and confusion to Rome, while her Eastern provinces were one scene of discord and civil broil, I came in and reduced the jarring elements, and out of parts broken and sundered, and hostile, constructed a fair and well-proportioned whole. And when once created, and I had tasted the sweets of sovereign and despotic power--what they are thou knowest--was I tamely to yield the whole at the word or threat even of Aurelian? It could not be. So many years as had passed and seen me Queen, not of Palmyra only, but of the East--a sovereign honored and courted at Rome, feared by Persia, my alliance sought by all the neighboring dominions of Asia--had served but to foster in me that love of rule which descended to me from a long line of kings. Sprung from a royal line, and so long upon a throne, it was superior force alone--divine or human--that should drag me from my right. Thou hast been but four years king, Aurelian, monarch of the great Roman world, yet wouldst thou not, but with painful unwillingness, descend and mingle with the common herd. For me, ceasing to reign, I would cease to live."
'"Thy speech," said Aurelian, "shows thee well worthy to reign. It is no treason to Rome, Carus, to lament that the fates have cast down from a throne? one who filled its seat so well. Hadst thou hearkened to the message of Petronius, thou mightest still, lady, have sat upon thy native seat. The crown of Palmyra might still have girt thy brow."
'"But not of the East," rejoined the Queen.
'"Fight against ambition, Carus! thou seest how, by aiming at too much, it loses all. It is the bane of humanity. When I am dead, may ambition then die, nor rise again."
'"May it be so," replied his general; "it has greatly cursed the world. It were better perhaps that it died now."
'"It cannot," replied Aurelian; "its life is too strong. I lament too, great Queen, for so I may well call thee, that upon an ancient defender of our Roman honor, upon her who revenged Rome upon the insolent Persian, this heavy fate should fall. I would willingly have met for the first time in a different way the brave conqueror of Sapor, the avenger of the wrongs and insults of the virtuous Valerian. The debt of Rome to Zenobia is great, and shall yet, in some sort at least, be paid. Curses upon those who moved thee to this war. They have brought this calamity upon thee, Queen, not I, nor thou. What ill designing aspirants have urged thee on? This is not a woman's war."
'"Was not that a woman's war," replied the Queen, "that drove the Goths from upper Asia? Was not that a woman's war that hemmed Sapor in his capital, and seized his camp? and that which beat Heraclianus, and gained thereby Syria and Mesopotamia? and that which worsted Probus, and so won the crown of Egypt? Does it ask for more, to be beaten by Romans, than to conquer these? Rest assured, great prince, that the war was mine. My people were indeed with me, but it was I who roused, fired, and led them on. I had indeed great advisers. Their names are known throughout the world. Why should I name the renowned Longinus, the princely Gracchus, the invincible Zabdas, the honest Otho? Their names are honored in Rome as well as here. They have been with me; but without lying or vanity, I may say I have been their head."
'"Be it so; nevertheless, thy services shall be remembered. But let us now to the affairs before us. The city has not surrendered--though thy captivity is known, the gates still are shut. A word from thee would open them."
'"It is a word I cannot speak," replied the Queen; her countenance expressing now, instead of sorrow, indignation. "Wouldst thou that I too should turn traitor?"
'"It surely would not be that," replied the Emperor. "It can avail naught to contend further--it can but end in a wider destruction, both of your people and my soldiers."
'"Longinus, I may suppose," said Zenobia, "is now supreme. Let the Emperor address him, and what is right will be done."
'Aurelian turned, and held a brief conversation with some of his officers. '"Within the walls," said the Emperor, again addressing the Queen, "thou hast sons. Is it not so?"
'"It is not they," said the Queen quickly, her countenance growing pale, "it is not they, nor either of them, who have conspired against me!"
'"No--not quite so. Yet he who betrayed thee calls himself of thy family. Thy sons surely were not in league with him. Soldiers," cried the Emperor, "lead forth the great Antiochus, and his slave."
'At his name, the Queen started--the Princess uttered a faint cry, and seemed as if she would have fallen.
'A fold of the tent was drawn aside, and the huge form of Antiochus appeared, followed by the Queen's slave, her head bent down and eyes cast upon the ground. If a look could have killed, the first glance of Zenobia, so full of a withering contempt, would have destroyed her base kinsman. He heeded it but so much as to blush and turn away his face from her. Upon Sindarina the Queen gazed with a look of deepest sorrow. The beautiful slave stood there where she entered, not lifting her head, but her bosom rising and falling with some great emotion--conscious, as it seemed, that the Queen's look was fastened upon her, and fearing to meet it. But it was so only for a moment, when raising her head, and revealing a countenance swollen with grief, she rushed toward the Queen, and threw herself at her feet, embracing them, and covering them with kisses. Her deep sobs took away all power of speech. The Queen only said, "My poor Sindarina!"
'The stern voice of Aurelian was first heard, "Bear her away--bear her from the tent."
'A guard seized her, and forcibly separating her from Zenobia, bore her weeping away.
'"This," said Aurelian, turning now to Zenobia, "this is thy kinsman, as he tells me--the Prince Antiochus?"
'The Queen replied not.
'"He has done Rome a great service." Antiochus raised his head, and straightened his stooping shoulders, "He has the merit of ending a weary and disastrous war. It is a rare fortune to fall to any one. 'Tis a work to grow great upon. Yet, Prince," turning to Antiochus, "the work is not complete. The city yet holds out. If I am to reward thee with the sovereign power, as thou sayest, thou must open the gates. Canst thou do it?"
'"Great Prince," replied the base spirit eagerly, "it is provided for. Allow me but a few moments, and a place proper for it, and the gates I warrant shall quickly swing upon their hinges."
'"Ah! do you say so? That is well. What, I pray, is the process?"
'"At a signal which I shall make, noble Prince, and which has been agreed upon, every head of every one of the Queen's party rolls in the dust--Longinus, Gracchus, and his daughter, Seleucus, Gabrayas, and a host more--their heads fall. The gates are then to be thrown open."
'"Noble Palmyrene, you have the thanks of all. Of the city then we are at length secure. For this, thou wouldst have the rule of it under Rome, wielding a sceptre in the name of the Roman Senate, and paying tribute as a subject province? Is it not so?"
'"It is. That is what I would have, and would do, most excellent Aurelian."
'"Who are thy associates in this? Are the Queen's sons, Herennianus, Timolaus, Vabalathus, of thy side, and partners in this enterprise?"
'"They are not privy to the design to deliver up to thy great power the Queen their mother; but they are my friends, and most surely do I count upon their support. As I shall return king of Palmyra, they will gladly share my power."
'"But if friends of thine, they are enemies of mine," rejoined Aurelian, in terrific tones; "they are seeds of future trouble; they may sprout up into kings also, to Rome's annoyance. They must be crushed. Dost thou understand me?"
'"I do, great Prince. Leave them to me. I will do for them. But to say the truth they are too weak to disturb any--friends or enemies."
'"Escape not so. They must die." roared Aurelian.
'"They shall--they shall," ejaculated the alarmed Antiochus; "soon as I am within the walls their heads shall be sent to thee."
'"That now is as I would have it. One thing more thou hast asked--that the fair slave who accompanies thee be spared to thee, to be thy Queen."
'"It was her desire--hers, noble Aurelian, not mine."
'"But didst thou not engage to her as much?"
'"Truly I did. But among princes such words are but politic ones: that is well understood. Kings marry for the state. I would be higher matched;" and the sensual demon cast his eyes significantly towards the Princess Julia.
'"Am I understood?" continued Antiochus, Aurelian making no response. "The Princess Julia I would raise to the throne." The monster seemed to dilate to twice his common size, as his mind fed upon the opening glories.
'Aurelian had turned from him, looking first at his Roman attendants, then at the Queen and Julia--his countenance kindling with some swelling passion.
'"Do I understand thee?" he then said. "I understand thee to say that for the bestowment of the favors and honors thou hast named, thou wilt do the things thou hast now specifically promised? Is it not so?"
'"It is, gracious king."
'"Dost thou swear it?"
'"I swear it by the great God of Light!"
'The countenance of the Emperor now grew black with as it seemed mingled fury and contempt. Antiochus started, and his cheek paled. A little light reached his thick brain.
'"Romans," cried Aurelian, "pardon me for so abusing your ears! And you, our royal captives! I knew not that such baseness lived--still less that it was here. Thou foul stigma upon humanity! Why opens not the earth under thee, but that it loathes and rejects thee! Is a Roman like thee, dost thou think, to reward thy unheard-of treacheries? Thou knowest no more what a Roman is, than what truth and honor are. Soldiers! seize yonder miscreant, write traitor on his back, and spurn him forth the camp. His form and his soul both offend alike. Hence, monster!"
'Antiochus was like one thunderstruck. Trembling in every joint, he sought to appeal to the Emperor's mercy, but the guard stopped his mouth, and dragged him from the tent. His shrieks pierced the air as the soldiers scourged him beyond the encampment.
'"It was not for me," said Aurelian, as these ceased to be heard, "to refuse what fate threw into my hands. Though I despise the traitorous informer, I could not shut my ear to the facts he revealed, without myself betraying the interests of Rome. But, believe me, it was information I would willingly have spared, My infamy were as his to have rewarded the traitor. Fear not, great Queen; I pledge the word of a Roman and an Emperor for thy safety. Thou art safe both from Roman and Palmyrene."
'"What I have but now been witness of," replied the Queen, "assures me that in the magnanimity of Aurelian I may securely rest."
'"As the Queen uttered these words, a sound as of a distant tumult, and the uproar of a multitude, caught the ears of all within the tent.
'"What mean these tumultuous cries?" inquired Aurelian of his attending guard. "They increase and approach."
'"It may be but the soldiers at their game with Antiochus," replied Probus.
'But it was not so. At the moment a Centurion, breathless, and with his head bare, rushed madly into the tent.
'"Speak," said the Emperor, "what is it?"
'"The legions!" said the Centurion, as soon as he could command his words, "the legions are advancing, crying out for the Queen of Palmyra! They have broken from their camp and their leaders, and in one mixed body come to surround the Emperor's tent."
'"As he ended, the fierce cries of the enraged soldiery were distinctly heard, like the roaring of a forest torn by a tempest. Aurelian, baring his sword, and calling upon his friends to do the same, sprang toward the entrance of the tent. They were met by the dense throng of the soldiers, who now pressed against the tent, and whose savage yells now could be heard,--
'"The head of Zenobia."--"Deliver the Queen to our will."--"Throw out the head of Zenobia, and we will return to our quarters."--"She belongs to us."
'At the same moment the sides of the tent were thrown up, showing the whole plain filled with the heaving multitude, and being itself instantly crowded with the ringleaders and their more desperate associates. Zenobia, supporting the Princess, who clung to her, and pale through a just apprehension of every horror, but otherwise firm and undaunted, cried out to Aurelian, "Save us, O Emperor, from this foul butchery!"
'"We will die else!" replied the Emperor; who with the word, sprang upon a soldier making toward the Queen, and with a blow clove him to the earth. Then swinging round him that sword which had drunk the blood of thousands, and followed by the gigantic Sandarion, by Probus, and Carus, a space around the Queen was soon cleared.
'"Back, ruffians," cried Aurelian, in a voice of thunder, "for you are no longer Romans! back to the borders of the tent. There I will hear your complaints." The soldiers fell back, and their ferocious cries ceased.
'"Now," cried the Emperor, addressing them, "what is your will, that thus in wild disorder you throng my tent?"
'One from the crowd replied--"Our will is that the Queen of Palmyra be delivered to us as our right, instantly. Thousands and thousands of our bold companions lie buried upon these accursed plains, slain by her and her fiery engines. We demand her life. It is but justice, and faint justice too."
'"Her life!"--"Her life!"--arose in one shout from the innumerable throng.
'The Emperor raised his hand, waving his sword dropping with the blood of the slain soldier; the noise subsided; and his voice, clear and loud like the tone of a trumpet, went to the farthest bounds of the multitude.
'"Soldiers," he cried, "you ask for justice; and justice you shall have."--"Aurelian is ever just!" cried many voices.--"But you shall not have the life of the Queen of Palmyra."--He paused; a low murmur went through the crowd.--"Or you must first take the life of your Emperor, and of these who stand with him."--The soldiers were silent.--"In asking the life of Zenobia," he continued, "you know not what you ask. Are any here who went with Valerian to the Persian war?" A few voices responded, "I was there,--and I,--and I."--"Are there any here whose parents, or brothers, or friends fell into the tiger clutches of the barbarian Sapor, and died miserably in hopeless captivity?"--Many voices every where throughout the crowd were heard in reply, "Yes, yes,--Mine were there, and mine."--"Did you ever hear it said," continued Aurelian, "that Rome lifted a finger for their rescue, or for that of the good Valerian?"--They were silent, some crying, "No, no."--"Know then, that when Rome forgot her brave soldiers and her Emperor, Zenobia remembered and avenged them; and Rome fallen into contempt with the Persian, was raised to her ancient renown by the arms of her ally, the brave Zenobia, and her dominions throughout the East saved from the grasp of Sapor only by her valor. While Gallienus wallowed in sensuality and forgot Rome, and even his own great father, the Queen of Palmyra stood forth, and with her royal husband, the noble Odenatus, was in truth the savior of the empire. And is it her life you would have? Were that a just return? Were that Roman magnanimity? And grant that thousands of your brave companions lie buried upon these plains: it is but the fortune of war. Were they not slain in honorable fight, in the siege of a city, for its defence unequalled in all the annals of war? Cannot Romans honor courage and conduct, though in an enemy? But you ask for justice. I have said you shall have justice. You shall. It is right that the heads and advisers of this revolt, for such the senate deems it, should be cut off. It is the ministers of princes who are the true devisers of a nation's acts. These, when in our power, shall be yours. And now, who, soldiers! stirred up this mutiny, bringing inexpiable shame upon our brave legions? Who are the leaders of the tumult?"
'Enough were found to name them;
'"Firmus! Carinus! the Centurions Plancus! Tatius! Burrhus! Valens! Crispinus!"
'"Guards! seize them and hew them down. Soldiers! to your tents." The legions fell back as tumultuously as they had come together; the faster, as the dying groans of the slaughtered ringleaders fell upon their ears.
'The tent of the Emperor was once more restored to order. After a brief conversation, in which Aurelian expressed his shame for the occurrence of such disorders in the presence of the Queen, the guard were commanded to convey back to the palace of Seleucus, whence they had been taken, Zenobia and the Princess.'
Such are the principal matters contained in the communications of Nichomachus.
When the facts contained in them became known, the senate, the council, the army, and the people, agreed in the belief, that the Queen's safety and their own would now be best secured by an immediate capitulation. Accordingly, heralds bearing letters from Longinus, in the name of the council, proceeded to the Roman camp. No other terms could be obtained than a verbal promise that the city, the walls, and the common people should be spared; but the surrender, beyond that, must be unconditional.
Upon learning the terms prescribed by the conqueror, many were for further resistance. 'The language of Aurelian,' they said, 'is ambiguous. He will spare the city, walls, and common people. Are our senators and counsellors to be sacrificed? Are they, who have borne the burden of the day, now to be selected, as the only ones who are to suffer? It shall not be so.'
Generous sentiments like these were heard on all sides. But they were answered and overcome, by Gracchus especially, and others. Said Gracchus to the people, 'Doubtless punishment will be inflicted by Rome upon some. Our resistance is termed by her, rebellion, revolt, conspiracy; the leaders will be sought and punished. It is ever her course. But this is a light evil compared with a wide-spread massacre of this whole population, the destruction of these famous temples, the levelling of these proud walls. Aurelian has said that these shall be spared. His word, though an unwritten and informal one, may be trusted. My counsel is, that it be at once accepted. What if a few grey heads among us are taken off? That will not touch the existence or prosperity of Palmyra. You can spare them. Your children will soon grow up to take our places, and fill them, I hope, with a better wisdom.'
But such words only served at first the more to strengthen the people in their resolution, that their rulers should not be the only sacrifice. None were loved throughout the city more than Gracchus and Otho, none revered like Longinus. It was a long and painful struggle between affection and the convictions of reason before it ended, and the consent of the people was obtained to deliver up the city to the mercy of Aurelian. But it was obtained.
I was sitting with Fausta and Calpurnius, speaking of the things that had happened, and of the conduct of the Queen, when Gracchus entered and joined us, informing us that 'ambassadors were now gone to the camp of Aurelian, clothed with authority to deliver up the city into his hands. So that now the end has drawn on, and Palmyra ceases to exist.'
Fausta, although knowing that this must happen, and might at any moment, could not hear the fatal words, announcing the death of her country, as she deemed it, and quenching forever in darkness the bright dreams upon which she had fed so long, without renewed grief. We were a long time silent.
'Something yet remains,' at length Gracchus resumed, 'for us to resolve upon and do. Before many hours have elapsed, a Roman army will fill the streets of the city, perhaps our houses also, and a general plunder may be commenced of all the valuables we possess. It will be useless to conceal what it will be well enough known, from the manner in which we live, must be beneath our roof. It will but expose our lives. Yet, Fausta, your jewels, valued by you as gifts, and other things precious for the same or a like reason, may easily be secreted, nor yet be missed by the licensed robbers. See to this, my child; but except this there is now naught to do concerning such affairs, but to sit still and observe the general wreck. But there are other and weightier matters to be decided upon, and that at once.'
'Concerning the care of ourselves, you mean?' said Fausta.
'I do,' replied Gracchus.
'I,' said Fausta, 'would remain here, where I am.'
'It is that which I wish,' replied her father. 'I commit you to the care of Lucius. For Calpurnius, he must leave you, and as he would live, fly if that yet be possible beyond the walls, or conceal himself within them.'
'Never!' said Calpurnius; 'I can do neither. I have never shunned a danger--and I cannot.'
'Let pride and passion now,' said Gracchus, 'go fast asleep. We have no occasion for them; they are out of place, dealing as we now do with stern necessities. Your life will be especially sought by Aurelian; it is a life that cannot be spared. Fausta needs you. In you she must find, or nowhere, father, husband, friend. Lucius, when these troubles are over, will return to Rome, and I shall be in the keeping of Aurelian. You must live; for her sake, if not for your own.'
'For mine too, surely, if for hers,' replied Calpurnius.
'Father,' said Fausta, throwing her arms around him, 'why, why must you fall into the hands of Aurelian? Why not, with Calpurnius, fly from these now hated walls?'
'My daughter!' replied Gracchus, 'let not your love of me make you forgetful of what I owe my own name and our country's. Am I not bound by the words of Aurelian?--"He will spare the city and the common people"--reserving for himself their rulers and advisers. Were they all to fly or shrink into concealment, can we doubt that then the fury of the fierce Roman would discharge itself upon the helpless people, and men, women and children suffer in our stead? And shall I fly while the rest are true to their trust?'
'The gods forbid!' sobbed Fausta.
'Now you are yourself again. Life is of little account with me. For you I would willingly hold on upon it, though in any event my grasp would be rapidly growing weaker and weaker; age would come and weaken and dissolve it. But for myself, I can truly say, I survey the prospect of death with indifference. Life is one step; death is another. I have taken the first, I am as ready to take the second. But to preserve life, agreeable as I have found it, by any sacrifice--'
'O, that were dying twice!' said Fausta; 'I know it.'
'Be thankful then that I shall die but once, and so dry your tears. Of nothing am I more clear, than that if the loss of my head will bring security to the city and the people, I can offer it to the executioner with scarce a single regret. But let us leave this. But few hours remain to do what is yet to be done.'
It was so indeed. Already the commotion in the streets indicated that the entrance of the Roman army was each moment expected.
It was determined that Calpurnius should avail himself of the old conduit, and fly beyond the walls. To this he consented, though with pain; and bidding us farewell, departed. Fausta retired to fulfil the injunctions of her father, while Gracchus employed himself in arranging a few papers, to be entrusted to my keeping.
In the course of a few hours the gates of the city were thrown open, and the army of the conqueror made its unobstructed entrance. Soon as the walls were secured, the towers of the gates, and the arms of the Queen's remaining forces, Aurelian himself approached, and by the Roman gate passed into a city that had cost him so dear to gain. He rode through its principal streets and squares, gazing with admiration at the magnificence which every where met his view. As he arrived at the far-famed Temple of the Sun, and was told to what deity it was dedicated, he bared his head, flung himself from his horse, and on foot, followed by an innumerable company of Romans, ascended its long flight of steps, and there within its walls returned solemn thanks to the great God of Light, the protecting deity of his house, for the success that had crowned his arms.
When this act of worship had been performed, and votive offerings had been hung upon the columns of the temple, the Emperor came forth, and after visiting and inspecting all that was beautiful and rare, made proclamation of his will concerning the city and its inhabitants. This was, that all gold and silver, precious stones, all pictures, statues, and other works of art, were to be placed in the hands of the Romans, and that all the members of the Queen's senate and council, with the nobility, were to be delivered up as prisoners of war, together with certain specified portions of the army. Beyond these requisitions, the persons and property of the citizens were to be respected. No violence of any kind on the part of the soldiers would be allowed, or pardoned if committed.
Immediately upon this, the Roman army was converted into a body of laborers and artisans, employed in the construction of wains of every form and size, for the transportation across the desert to the sea-coast, of whatever would adorn the triumph of Aurelian, or add to the riches of the great capital of the world. Vast numbers of elephants and camels were collected from the city, and from all the neighboring territory, with which to drag the huge and heavy loaded wagons through the deep sands and over the rough and rocky plains of Syria. The palaces of the nobles and the wealthy merchants have been stripped of every embellishment of art and taste. The private and public gardens, the fountains, the porticos, have each and all been robbed of every work, in either marble or brass, which had the misfortune or the merit to have been wrought by artists of distinguished names. The palaces of the Queen and of Longinus were objects of especial curiosity and desire, and, as it were, their entire contents, after being secured with utmost art from possibility of injury, have been piled upon carriages prepared for them, ready for their journey toward Rome. It was pitiful to look on and see this wide desolation of scenes, that so little while ago had offered to the eye all that the most cultivated taste could have required for its gratification. The citizens stood around in groups, silent witnesses of the departing glories of their city and nation.
But the sight saddest of all to behold, was that of the senators and counsellors of Palmyra, led guarded from the city to the camp of Aurelian. All along the streets through which they passed, the people stood in dumb and motionless array, to testify in that expressive manner their affection and their grief. Voices were indeed occasionally heard invoking the blessings of the gods upon them, or imprecating curses upon the head of the scourge Aurelian. Whenever Longinus and Gracchus appeared, their names were uttered in the tones with which children would cry out to venerated parents, whom they beheld for the last time; beheld borne away from them by a power they could not resist to captivity or death. No fear of the legion that surrounded them availed to repress or silence such testimonies of regard. And if confidence was reposed in the Roman soldiery, that they would not, because conquerors and the power was theirs, churlishly deny them the freedom to relieve in that manner their over-burdened hearts, it was not--happy was I, as a Roman, to witness it--misplaced. They resented it not either by word or look or act, but moved on like so many statues in mail, turning neither to the one hand nor the other, nor apparently so much as hearing the reproaches which were by some lavished upon them and their Emperor.
Livia, Faustula, and the other inmates of the palace have joined Zenobia and Julia, by order of Aurelian, at the house of Seleucus. The Cæsars, Herennianus and Timolaus, have fled or concealed themselves; Vabalathus has surrendered himself, and has accompanied the princesses to the Roman camp.
How desolate is the house of Gracchus, deprived of its princely head!--especially as the mind cannot help running forward and conjecturing the fate which awaits him. Fausta surrenders herself to her grief--loss of country and of parent, at one and the same moment, is loss too great for her to bear with fortitude. Her spirit, so alive to affection and every generous sentiment, is almost broken by these sorrows and disappointments. I did not witness the parting between her and Gracchus, and happy am I that I did not. Her agony was in proportion to her love and her sensibility. I have not met her since. She remains within her own apartments, seen only by her favorite slaves. A double darkness spreads around while Fausta too is withdrawn.
It appeared to me now, my Curtius, as if something might be done on my part in behalf of Gracchus. According to the usages of Rome, the chief persons among the prisoners, and who might be considered as the leaders of the rebellion, I knew would die either at once, or at farthest, when Aurelian should re-enter Rome as the conqueror of the East. I considered that by reason of the growing severity of the Emperor toward all, friends as well as foes--amounting, as many now deem, to cruelty--the danger to Gracchus was extreme, beyond any power perhaps to avert. Yet I remembered, at the same time, the generous traits in Aurelian's character; his attachment toward old friends; his gratitude for services rendered him in the early part of his life, while making his way up through the lower posts of the army. It seemed to me that he was open to solicitation; that he would not refuse to hear me--a friend--the son of Cneius Piso--with what object soever I might present myself before him: and that, consequently, there was from this quarter a ray of hope, however small, for the father of our beloved Fausta.
Accordingly, so soon as the affairs at first calling for the entire devotion of Aurelian were through, and I knew that his leisure would allow of an interruption, I sought the Roman camp, and asked an audience of the Emperor. It was immediately granted.
As I entered his tent, Aurelian was seated at a table holding in his hand a parchment scroll, which he seemed intently considering. His stern countenance lowered over it like a thunder-cloud. I stood there where I had entered a few moments before he seemed aware of the presence of any one. His eye then falling almost accidentally upon me, he suddenly rose, and with the manner of his ancient friendship warmly greeted me.
'I am glad,' said he, 'to meet so true a Roman in these distant parts.'
'I am still a true Roman,' I replied, 'notwithstanding I have been, during this siege, upon the side of the enemy.'
'I doubt it not. I am not ignorant of the causes that led you to Palmyra, and have detained you there. Henceforward your Roman blood must be held of the purest, for as I learn, and since I have seen can believe, they are few who have come within the magic circle of the late Queen, who have not lost their name and freedom--themselves fastening on the chains of her service.'
'You have heard truly. Her court and camp are filled with those who at first perhaps sought her capital, as visiters of curiosity or traffic, but being once within the marvellous influence of her presence, have remained there her friends or servants. She is irresistible.'
'And well nigh so in war too. In Rome they make themselves merry at my expense, inasmuch as I have been warring thus with a woman--not a poet in the garrets of the Via Coeli, but has entertained the city with his couplets upon the invincible Aurelian, beset here in the East by an army of women, who seem likely to subdue him by their needles or their charms. Nay, the Senate looks on and laughs. By the immortal gods! they know not of what they speak. Julius Cæsar himself, Piso, never displayed a better genius than this woman. Twice have I saved my army but by stratagem. I give the honor of those days to Zenobia. It belongs to her rather than to me. Palmyra may well boast of Antioch and Emesa. Your brother did her good service there. I trust, for your sake and for mine, he will not fall into my hands.'