Cleopatra, Volume 1.
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Georg Ebers >> Cleopatra, Volume 1.
"Shall I accompany you?" asked Gorgias kindly.
"No," she answered hurriedly. "He needs time ere he will trust
strangers. Only, if Apollonius discloses the terrible truth, and his
grief threatens to overpower him, comfort him, and show him that we still
have friends who are ready to protect us from such disaster."
She waved her hand in token of gratitude, and hurried through the little
side gate into the garden. Gorgias looked after her with sparkling eyes,
and drew a long breath. How good this girl must be, how wisely she cared
for her relatives! How energetically the young creature behaved! He had
seen his new acquaintance only in the dim light, but she must be
beautiful. Her eyes, lips, and hair certainly were. How his heart
throbbed as he asked himself the question whether this young girl,
who was endowed with every gift which constituted the true worth of
womanhood, was not preferable to her more attractive sister Barine!--
when the thought darted through his mind that he had cause to be grateful
to the beard which covered his chin and cheeks, for he felt that he, a
sedate, mature man, must have blushed. And he knew why. Only half an
hour before he had felt and admitted to Dion that he considered Barine
the most desirable of women, and now another's image cast a deep shadow
over hers and filled his heart with new, perhaps stronger emotions.
He had had similar experiences only too often, and his friends, Dion at
their head, had perceived his weakness and spoiled many an hour for him
by their biting jests. The series of tall and short, fair and dark
beauties who had fired his fancy was indeed of considerable length, and
every one on whom he had bestowed his quickly kindled affections had
seemed to him the one woman he must make his own, if he would be a happy
man. But ere he had reached the point of offering his hand, the question
had arisen in his mind whether he might not love another still more
ardently. So he had begun to persuade himself that his heart yearned for
no individual, but the whole sex--at least the portion which was young
and could feel love--and therefore he would scarcely be wise to bind
himself to any one. True, he knew that he was capable of fidelity, for
he clung to his friends with changeless loyalty, and was ready to make
any sacrifice in their behalf. With women, however, he dealt
differently. Was Helena's image, which now floated before him so
bewitchingly, destined to fade as swiftly? The contrary would have been
remarkable. Yet he firmly believed that this time Eros meant honestly by
him. The laughing loves who twined their rose garlands around him and
Helena's predecessors had nothing to do with this grave maiden.
These reflections darted through his brain with the speed of lightning,
and still stirred his heart when he was ushered into the impluvium, where
the magistrates were impatiently awaiting the owner of the house. With
the lucidity peculiar to him, he explained his reasons for hoping that
their errand would be vain, and Apollonius replied that no one would
rejoice more than he himself if the Regent should authorize him, on the
morrow, to countermand his mission. He would gladly wait there longer to
afford the old man's granddaughter an opportunity to soften the tidings
of the impending misfortune.
The kind-hearted man's patience, however, was not tested too long; for
when Helena entered the summer-house Didymus had already been informed
of the disaster which threatened him and his family. The philosopher
Euphranor, an elderly member of the Museum, had reached him through the
garden gate, and, spite of Philotas's warning sign, told him what was
occurring. But Didymus knew the old philosopher, who, a recluse from the
world like himself, was devoting the remainder of his life and strength
to the pursuit of science. So he only shook his head incredulously,
pushed back the thin locks of grey hair which hung down on his cheeks
over the barest part of his skull, and exclaimed reproachfully, though as
if the matter under discussion was of the most trivial importance: "What
have you been hearing? We'll see about it!"
He had risen as he spoke, and too abruptly surprised by the news to
remember the sandals on the mat and the upper robe which lay on a chest
of drawers at the end of the room, he was in the act of quitting it, when
his friend, who had silently watched his movements, stopped him, and
Helena entered.
The grey-haired sage turned to her, and, vexed by his friend's doubts,
begged her to convince her grandfather that even matters which do not
please us may nevertheless be of some importance. She did so as
considerately as possible, thinking meanwhile of the architect and his
hopes.
Didymus, with his eyes bent on the ground, shook his grey head again and
again. Then, suddenly raising it, he rushed to the door, and without
heeding the upper garment which Helena still held in her hand, tore it
open, shouting, "But things must and shall be changed!"
Euphranor and his granddaughter followed. Though his head was bowed, he
crossed the little garden with a swift, firm tread, and, without noticing
the questions and warnings of his companions, walked at once to the
impluvium. The bright light dazzled his weakened eyes, and his habit of
gazing into vacancy or on the ground compelled him to glance from side to
side for some time, ere he could accustom himself to it. Apollonius
approached, greeted him respectfully, and assured him that he deeply
regretted having interrupted him in the work for which the whole world
was waiting, but he had come on important business.
"I know, I know," the old scholar answered with a smile of superiority.
"What is all this ado about?"
As he spoke he looked around the group of spectators, among whom he knew
no one except Apollonius, who had charge of the museum accounts, and the
architect, for whom he had composed the inscription on the Odeum, which
he had recently built. But when his eyes met only unfamiliar faces, the
confidence which hitherto had sustained him began to waver, though still
convinced that a demand such as the philosopher suggested could not
possibly be made upon him, he continued: "It is stated that there is a
plan for turning my garden into a public square. And for what purpose?
To erect a piece of sculpture. But there can be nothing serious in the
rumour, for my property is recorded in the land register, and the law--"
"Pardon me," Apollonius broke in, "if I interrupt you. We know the
ordinance to which you refer, but this case is an exceptional one.
The Regent desires to take nothing from you. On the contrary, he offers,
in the name of the Queen, any compensation you yourself may fix for the
piece of land which is to be honoured by the statues of the highest
personages in the country--Cleopatra and Antony, hand in hand. The piece
of sculpture has already been brought here. A work by the admirable
artist Lysander, who passed too early to the nether world, certainly will
not disfigure your house. The little summer-house by the sea must be
removed to-morrow, it is true; you know that our gracious Queen may
return any day-victorious if the immortals are just. This piece of
sculpture, which is created in her honour, to afford her pleasure, must
greet her on her arrival, so the Regent send me to-day to communicate his
wish, which, as he represents the Queen--"
"Yet," interrupted the architect, who had again warmly assured the old
man's granddaughter of his aid" yet your friends will endeavour to
persuade the Regent to find another place for the statues."
"They are at liberty to do so," said the officer. "What will happen
later the future will show. My office merely requires me to induce the
worthy owner of this house and garden to submit to-day to the Queen's
command, which the Regent and my own heart bid me clothe in the form of a
request."
During this conversation the old man had at first listened silently to
the magistrate's words, gazing intently into his face. So it was true.
The demand to yield up his garden, and even the little house, for fifty
years the scene of his study and creative work, for the sake of a statue,
would be made. Since this had become a certainty, he had stood with his
eyes fixed upon the ground. Grief had paralyzed his tongue, and Helena,
who felt this, for the aged head seemed as if it were bending under a
heavy burden, had drawn close to his side.
The shouts and howls of the throng outside echoed through the open roof
of the impluvium, but the old man did not seem to hear them, and did not
even notice his granddaughter. Yet, no sooner did he feel her touch than
he hurriedly shrank away, flung back his drooping head, and gazed around
the circle of intruders.
The dull, questioning eyes of the old commentator and writer of many
books now blazed with the hot fire of youthful passion and, like a
wrestler who seeks the right grip, he measured Apollonius and his
companions with wrathful glances. The fragile recluse seemed transformed
into a warrior ready for battle. His lips and the nostrils of his
delicate nose quivered, and when Apollonius began to say that it would be
wise to remove the contents of the summer-house that day, as it would be
torn down early the next morning, Didymus raised his arms, exclaiming:
"That will not be done. Not a single roll shall be removed! They will
find me at work as usual early to-morrow morning, and if it is still your
wish to rob me of my property you must use violence to attain your
purpose."
Calm yourself," replied Apollonius. "Every one beneath the moon must
submit to a higher power; the gods bow to destiny, we mortals to the
sovereign. You are a sage; I, merely mindful of the behests of duty,
administer my office. But I know life, and if I may offer my counsel,
you will accept what cannot be averted, and I will wager ten to one that
you will have the best of it; that the Queen will place in your hands
means--"
"Sufficient to build a palace on the site of the little house of which I
was robbed," Didymus interrupted bitterly. Then rage burst forth afresh
"What do I care for your money? I want my rights, my good, guaranteed
rights. I insist upon them, and whoever assails the ground which my
grandfather and father bequeathed to me--"
He hesitated, for the throng outside had burst into a loud shout of joy;
and when it died away, and the old man began once more defiantly to claim
his rights, he was interrupted by a woman's clear tones, addressing him
with the Greek greeting, "Rejoice!"--a voice so gay and musical that it
seemed to dispel the depression which rested like a grey fog on the whole
company.
While Didymus was listening to the excited populace, and the new-comer
was gazing at the old man whose rigid obstinacy could scarcely be
conquered by kindness, the younger men were looking at the beautiful
woman who joined them. Her haste had flushed her cheeks, and from
beneath the turquoise-blue kerchief that covered her fair locks a
bewitching face smiled at her sister, the architect, and her grandfather.
Apollonius and many of his companions felt as if happiness in person had
entered this imperilled house, and many an eye brightened when the
infuriated old man exclaimed in an altered tone, "You here, Barine?" and
she, without heeding the presence of the others, kissed his cheek with
tender affection.
Helena, Gorgias, and the old philosopher Euphranor, had approached her,
and when the latter asked with loving reproach, "Why, Barine, how did
you get through the howling mob?" she answered gaily: "That a learned
member of the Museum may receive me with the query whether I am here,
though from childhood a kind or--what do you think, grandfather?--a
malign fate has preserved me from being overlooked, and some one else
reprovingly asks how I passed through the shouting mob, as if it were a
crime to wade into the water to hold out a helping hand to those we love
best when it is up to their chins! But, oh! dear, this howling is too
hideous!"
While speaking, she pressed her little hands on the part of the kerchief
which concealed her ears, and said no more until the noise subsided,
although she declared that she was in a hurry, and had only come to learn
how matters were. Meanwhile it seemed as if she was so full of quick,
pulsing life, that it was impossible to leave even a moment unused,
if it were merely to bestow or answer a friendly glance.
The architect and her sister were obliged to return hurried answers to
hasty questions; and as soon as she ascertained what had brought the
strangers there she thanked Apollonius, and said that old friends would
do their best to spare her grandfather such a sorrow.
In reply to repeated inquiries from the two old men in regard to her
arrival there, she answered: "Nobody will believe it, because in this
hurry I could not keep my mouth shut; but I acted like a mute fish and
reached the water." Then, drawing her grandfather aside, she whispered
to him that, when she left her boat at the harbour, Archibius had seen
her from his carriage, and instantly stopped it to inform her of his
intended visit that evening. He was coming to discuss an important
matter. Therefore she must receive the worthy man, whom she sincerely
liked, so she could not stay. Then turning to the others still with her
kerchief on her head ready for departure--she asked what the people
meant by their outcries. The architect replied that Philostratus had
endeavoured to make the crowd believe that the only appropriate site for
the statues of which she had heard was her grandfather's garden, and he
thought he knew in whose behalf the fellow was acting.
"Certainly not in the Regent's," said Apollonius, in a tone of sincere
conviction; but Barine, over whose sunny brow a shadow had flitted when
Gorgias uttered the orator's name, assented with a slight bend of the
head, and then whispered hurriedly, yet earnestly, that she would answer
for the old man's allowing himself to be persuaded, if he had only time
to collect his thoughts.
The next morning, when the market was crowded, the officer might commence
his negotiations afresh, if the Regent insisted on his plan. Meanwhile
she would do her best to persuade her grandfather to yield, though he was
not exactly one of the class who are easily guided. Apollonius might
remind the Regent that it would be advisable at this time to avoid a
public scandal, to remember Didymus's age, and the validity of his claim.
While Apollonius was talking with his companions, Barine beckoned to the
architect, and hastily took leave of the others, protesting that she was
in no danger, since she would slip away again like a fish, only this time
she would use her tongue, and hoped by its means to win to the support of
Didymus's just cause a man who would already have ended all the trouble
had the Queen only been in Alexandria.
Until now the eyes and ears of the whole company had been fixed upon
Barine. No one had desired anything better than to gaze at and listen to
her.
Not until she had quitted the room with Gorgias did the officials
discuss the matter together, and soon after Apollonius went away with
his companions, to hold another conference with the Regent about this
unpleasant business. This time the architect had followed the young
beauty with very mingled feelings. Only an hour before he would have
rejoiced to be permitted to accompany and protect Barine; now he would
have gladly remained with her sister, who had returned his farewell
greeting so gratefully and yet with such maidenly modesty. But even the
most vacillating man cannot change one fancy for another as he would
replace a black piece on the draughtboard with a white one, and he still
found it delightful to be so near Barine. Only the thought that Helena
might believe that he stood on very intimate terms with her sister had
darted with a disquieting influence through his brain when the latter
invited him to accompany her.
In the garden Barine begged him, before they went to the landing-place
where the boat was moored, to help her ascend the narrow flight of steps
leading to the flat roof of the gatekeeper's little house.
Here they could watch unseen the tumult in the square below, for it was
surrounded by dense laurel bushes. Bright flames were blazing in the
pitch-pans before the two temples at the side of the Corner of the Muses,
and their light was increased by the torches held in the hands of
Scythians. Yet no individuals could be distinguished in the throng. The
marble walls of the temples shimmered, the statues at Didymus's gate, and
the hermae along the street of the King which passed the threatened house
and connected the north of the Corner of the Muses with the sea-shore,
loomed from the darkness in the brilliancy of the reflected light, but
the smoke of the torches darkened the sky and dimmed the starlight.
The only persons distinctly visible were Dion, who had stationed himself
on the lofty framework of the platform on which the muffled statues had
been drawn hither, and the attorney Philostratus, who stood on the
pedestal of one of the dolphins which surrounded the fountain between the
Temple of Isis and the street. The space, a dozen paces wide, which
divided them, permitted the antagonists to understand each other, and the
attention of the whole throng was fixed upon the wranglers.
These verbal battles were one of the greatest pleasures of the
Alexandrians, and they greeted every clever turn of speech with shouts
of applause, every word which displeased them with groans, hisses, and
cat-calls.
Barine could see and hear what was passing below. She had pushed aside
the foliage of the laurel bushes which concealed her, and, with her hand
raised to her ear, stood listening to the two disputants. When the
scoundrel whom she had called husband, and for whom her contempt had
become too deep for hate, sneeringly assailed her family as having been
fed from generation to generation from the corn-bin of the Museum, she
bit her lips. But they soon curled, as if what she heard aroused her
disgust, for the speaker now turned to Dion and accused him of preventing
the kindly disposed Regent from increasing the renown of the great Queen
and affording her noble heart a pleasure.
"My tongue," he cried, "is the tool which supports me. Why am I using it
here till it is weary and almost paralyzed? In honour of Cleopatra, our
illustrious Queen, and her generous friend, to whom we all owe a debt of
gratitude. Let all who love her and the divine Antony, the new Herakles
and Dionysus--both will soon make their entry among us crowned with the
laurels of victory--join the Regent and every well-disposed person in
seizing yonder bit of land so meanly withheld by base avarice and a
sentiment--a sentiment, do you hear?--which I do not name more plainly,
simply because wickedness is repulsive to me, and I do not stand here as
an accuser. Whoever upholds the word-monger who spouts forth books as
the dolphin at my side does water, may do so. I shall not envy him. But
first look at Didymus's ally and panegyrist. There he stands opposite to
me. It would have been better for him had the dolphin at his feet taught
him silence. Then he might have remained in the obscurity which befits
him.
"But whether willing or not, I must drag him forth, and I will show you
Dion, fellow-citizens, though I would far rather have you see things
which arouse less ire. The dim light prevents your distinguishing the
colour of his robe, but I know it, for I saw it in the glare of day. It
is hyacinthine purple. You know what that costs. It would support the
wives and children of many among you for ten long years. 'How heavy must
be the purse which can expose such a treasure to sun and rain!' is the
thought of every one who sees him strutting about as proudly as a
peacock. And his purse is loaded with many talents. Only it is a pity
that, day after day, most of you must give your children a little less
bread and deprive yourselves of many a draught of wine to deck him out so
bravely. His father, Eumenes, was a tax-collector, and what the leech
extorted from you and your children, the son now uses to drive, clad in
hyacinthine purple, a four-horse chariot, which splashes the mire from
the street into your faces as it rolls onward. By the dog! the gentleman
does not weigh so very much, yet he needs four horses to drag him.
And, fellow-citizens, do you know why? I'll tell you. He's afraid of
sticking fast everywhere, even in his speech."
Here Philostratus lowered his voice, for the phrase "sticking fast" had
drawn a laugh from some of his hearers; but Dion, whose father had really
amassed, in the high position of a receiver of taxes, the handsome
fortune which his son possessed, did not delay his reply.
"Yes, yes," he retorted scornfully, "yonder Syrian babbler hit the mark
this time. He stands before me, and who does not easily stick fast when
marsh and mire are so near? As for the hyacinthine purple cloak, I wear
it because I like it. His crocus-yellow one is less to my taste, though
he certainly looks fine enough in it in the sunlight. It shines like a
buttercup in the grass. You know the plant. When it fades--and I ask
whether you think Philostratus looks like a bud--when it fades, it leaves
a hollow spiral ball which a child's breath could blow away. Suppose in
future we should call the round buttercup seed-vessels 'Philostratus
heads'? You like the suggestion? I am glad, fellow-citizens, and I
thank you. It proves your good taste. Then we will stick to the
comparison. Every head contains a tongue, and Philostratus says that his
is the tool which supports him."
"Hear the money-bag, the despiser of the people!" interrupted
Philostratus furiously. "The honest toil by which a citizen earns a
livelihood is a disgrace in his eyes."
"Honest toil, my good friend," replied Dion, "is scarcely in question
here. I spoke only of your tongue.--You understand me, fellow-citizens.
Or, if any of you are not yet acquainted with this worthy man, I will
show him to you, for I know him well. He is my foe, yet I can sincerely
recommend him to many of you. If any one has a very bad, shamefully
corrupt cause to bring before the courts, I most earnestly counsel him
to apply to the buttercup man perched on yonder fountain. He will thank
me for it. Believe me, Didymus's cause is just, precisely because this
advocate so eagerly assails it. I told you just now the matter under
discussion. Which of you who owns a garden can say in future, 'It is
mine,' if, during the absence of the Queen, it is allowable to take it
away to be used for any other purpose? But this is what threatens
Didymus. If this is to be the custom here, let every one beware of
sowing a radish or planting a bush or a tree, for should the wife of
some great noble desire to dry her linen there, he may be deprived
of it ere the former can ripen or the latter give shade."
Loud applause followed this sentence, but Philostratus shouted in a voice
that echoed far and wide: "Hear me, fellow-citizens; do not allow your
selves to be deceived! No one is to be robbed here. The project is to
purchase, at a high price, the spot which the city needs for her
adornment, and to honour and please the Queen. Are the Regent and the
citizens to lose this opportunity of expressing the gratitude of years,
and the rejoicing over the greatest of victories, of which we shall soon
hear, because an evil-disposed person--the word must be uttered--a foe
to his country, opposes it?"
"Now the mire is coming too near me," Dion angrily responded, "and I
might really stick fast, as I was warned; for I do not envy the ready
presence of mind of any person whose tongue would not falter when the
basest slander scattered its venom over him. You all know, fellow-
citizens, through how many generations the Didymus family has lived to
the honour of this city, doing praiseworthy work in yonder house. You
know that the good old man who dwells there was one of the teachers of
the royal children."
"And yet," cried Philostratus, "only the day before yesterday he walked
arm in arm in the Paneum garden with Arius, the tutor of Octavianus, our
own and our Queen's most hated foe. In my presence, and before I know
not how many others, Didymus distinguished this Arius as his most beloved
pupil."
"To give you that title," retorted Dion, "would certainly fill any
teacher with shame and anger, no matter how far you had surpassed him in
wisdom and knowledge. Nay, had you been committed to the care of the
herring dealers, instead of the rhetoricians, every honest man among them
would disown you, for they sell only good wares for good money, while you
give the poorest in exchange for glittering gold. This time you trample
under foot the fair name of an honourable man. But I will not suffer it;
and you hear, fellow-citizens, I now challenge this Syrian to prove that
Didymus ever betrayed his native land, or I will brand him in your
presence a base slanderer, an infamous, venal destroyer of character!"