A Struggle For Rome Volume I Part 6

Cethegus walked quietly past them, and lifted the heavy woollen curtain that divided this from the next apartment--the ante-chamber of the sick-room.

On entering, he greeted with a profound inclination a tall and queenly woman, enveloped in a black mourning veil, who, grave and silent, but composed and without tears, stood before a marble table covered with records. It was Amalaswintha, the widowed daughter of Theodoric.

A woman above thirty years of age, she was still extremely, though coldly, beautiful. She wore her rich dark hair parted and waved in the fashion of the Greeks. Her high forehead, her large, open eyes, her straight nose, the pride expressed in her almost manly features, and the majesty of her full form, gave her an imposing dignity, and, clad in a garment folded in true Grecian style, she resembled a Juno of Polycletus which had descended from its pedestal. Her arm, more supporting than supported, was laid within that of a youth of about seventeen years of age--Athalaric, her son, the heir of the kingdom of the Goths.

He did not resemble his mother, but had the nature of his unhappy father, Eutharic, whom a wasting heart disease had hurried to the grave in the bloom of life. For this reason, Amalaswintha saw with sorrow that her son grew daily more like his father; and it was no longer a secret at the court of Ravenna that all the signs of the disease were already visible in the young man.

Athalaric was as beautiful as all the other members of this royal house, descended from the G.o.ds. Heavy black eyebrows and long eyelashes shaded his beautiful dark eyes, that now melted with an expression of dreamy reverie, and now flashed with intellectual brilliancy. Dark brown tangled locks hung over his pale temples, on which, when he was excited, the blue veins swelled convulsively. On his n.o.ble brow physical pain or sad resignation had traced deep lines, strange to see on his youthful countenance. Marble paleness and vivid red quickly alternated in his transparent cheeks. His tall but bent-frame generally seemed to hang, so to speak, on its hinges, as if tired, and only at times he drew himself up with startling suddenness.

He did not notice Cethegus, for, leaning on his mother's breast, he had in his sadness flung his Grecian mantle over that young head, which was soon destined to wear a crown.

At some distance from these two figures, near an open window that afforded a view of the marble steps upon which lay the Gothic warriors, stood, lost in thought, a woman--or was it a girl?--of surprising and dazzling beauty; it was Mataswintha, the sister of Athalaric.

She resembled her mother in height and n.o.bleness of form, but her more sharply-cut features were filled with fiery and pa.s.sionate life, which was only slightly concealed under an aspect of artificial coldness.

Her figure, in which blooming fulness and delicate slenderness were harmoniously blended, reminded one of that Artemis in the arms of Endymion, in the group sculptured by Agesander, which, as legend reports, was banished from the town by the Council of Rhodes because the marble representation of the most perfect maidenly beauty and highest sensuousness had driven the youths of the island to madness and suicide. The magic of ripe virgin beauty trembled over the whole form of Mataswintha. Her rich waving hair was of a dark-red colour, with a glimmering metallic light upon it, and had such an extraordinary effect that it had procured for the Princess, even amongst her own nation, whose women were celebrated for their splendid golden locks, the appellation of "Beautiful-hair." Her nose was finely-shaped, with delicately-chiselled nostrils, which quivered at the slightest emotion; and freshly bloomed the full and rosy lips of her lovely mouth. But the most striking feature of this extraordinary beauty was the grey eye, not so much on account of its changing colour as from the wonderful expression with which, though generally lost in reverie, it could sometimes flash with burning pa.s.sion.

Indeed, as she stood there leaning against the window, in the half-h.e.l.lenic, half-Gothic costume, which her fancy had combined, her full white arm wound round the dark column of porphyry, and gazing thoughtfully out into the evening air, her seductive beauty resembled that of those irresistible wood or water-nymphs, whose enchanting power of love has always been celebrated in Northern legend.

And so great was the power of this beauty, that even the burnt-out bosom of Cethegus, who had long known the Princess, was moved to new admiration as he entered.

But his attention was immediately claimed by Ca.s.siodorus--the learned and faithful minister of the King, the first representative of that benevolent but hopeless policy of reconciliation, which had been practised in the Gothic Kingdom for many years--who was standing near Amalaswintha.

This old man, whose venerable and mild features were no less filled with an expression of sorrow at the loss of his royal friend than by anxiety for the future of the kingdom, rose, and went with tottering steps towards Cethegus, who reverently bent his head.

The aged man's eyes rested upon him for some moments, swimming in tears; at last he sank sighing upon the cold breast of Cethegus, who despised him for this weakness.

"What a day!" complained Ca.s.siodorus.

"A fateful day," said Cethegus gravely. "Strength and presence of mind are necessary."

"You say truly, patrician, and speak like a Roman," said the Princess, leaving Athalaric--"welcome!"

She gave him her hand, which did not tremble. Her eye was clear and tearless.

"The disciple of the Stoics preserves, even on this day, the wisdom of Zeno and her own composure," said Cethegus.

"Say, rather, that the grace of G.o.d wonderfully upholds her soul," said Ca.s.siodorus reprovingly.

"Patrician," began Amalaswintha, "the praetorian prefect has proposed you to me for the performance of an important business. His word would be sufficient, even had I not known you so long. You are the self-same Cethegus who transposed the first two songs of the? 'aeneid' into Grecian hexameters?"

"Infandum renovare jubes, regina, dolorem. A youthful sin, Queen," said Cethegus, smiling. "I bought up all the copies and burnt them on the day on which Tullia's translation appeared."

Tullia was the pseudonym of Amalaswintha. Cethegus knew it, but the Princess had no suspicion of his knowledge. She was flattered in her weakest point, and continued:

"You know how it stands with us. My father's moments are counted; according to the report of the physicians, he may, although yet strong and active, die at any moment. Athalaric here is the heir to his crown.

But until he has reached the proper age, I shall conduct the regency, and act as his guardian."

"Such is the will of the King, and Goths and Romans have long since agreed to this wise arrangement," said Cethegus.

"They did so, but the mob is fickle. The rough men despise the government of a woman"--and at this thought Amalaswintha knit her brow in anger.

"It is certainly contrary to the political principles both of Goths and Romans," said Ca.s.siodorus apologetically. "It is quite a new thing that a woman----"

"Whatever may be thought about it, it is a fact," interposed the Princess. "Nevertheless, I count on the fidelity of the Goths in general, though single aristocratic individuals may aim at the crown. I also fear nothing from the Italians here in Ravenna, nor in most towns.

But I fear--Rome and the Romans!"

The attention of Cethegus was arrested. His whole being was suddenly excited, but his countenance remained impa.s.sive.

"Rome will never accustom herself to the rule of the Goths; she will always resist us--how can it be otherwise?" added Amalaswintha.

It seemed as if the daughter of Theodoric had a Roman soul.

"Therefore we fear," concluded Ca.s.siodorus, "that, at the news of the vacancy of the throne, a movement may break out in Rome against the regency, be it for annexation to Byzantium, be it for the election of an Emperor of the Western Empire."

Cethegus, as if in reflection, cast down his eyes.

"For this reason," quickly interposed the Princess, "everything must be done before the news reaches Rome. A faithful, energetic man must receive the oaths of the garrison for me--I mean for my son; must take possession of the most important gates and squares, intimidate the Senate and the n.o.bles, win the people to my cause, and irrevocably confirm my dominion before it is menaced. And to effect this, Ca.s.siodorus has proposed--you. Speak; will you undertake it?"

At this moment the golden stylus which she held happened to fell to the ground.

Cethegus stooped to pick it up.

He had only this one moment for the crowding thoughts that pa.s.sed through his mind on hearing this proposal.

Was the conspiracy in the Catacombs betrayed? Was he himself betrayed?

Was this a snare laid by the crafty and ambitious woman? Or were the fools really so blind as to press this offer upon him? And if it were so, what should he do? Should he seize the occasion? Should he strike at once, in order to win Rome? And for whom? For Byzantium or for an Emperor of the West? And who should it be? Or were things not yet ripe?

Should he, for this once, seemingly practise fidelity?

To resolve these and many other questions, he had only the one moment in which he stooped.

But his quick mind needed no more. He had seen, while in the act of stooping, the unsuspicious, trusting look of Ca.s.siodorus, and, giving the stylus to the Princess, he spoke with decision:

"Queen, I undertake the business."

"That is well," said the Princess.

Ca.s.siodorus pressed his hand.

"When Ca.s.siodorus proposed me for this office," continued Cethegus, "he gave another proof of his deep knowledge of mankind. He has seen the kernel through the sh.e.l.l."

"What do you mean?" asked Amalaswintha.

"Queen, appearances might have deceived him. I confess that I do not like to see the barbarians--pardon, the Goths--reigning in Italy."

"This frankness honours you, and I pardon the feeling in a Roman."

"Besides that, I have taken no interest in public affairs for some years. After having experienced varied pa.s.sions, I now live in the calm and retirement of my country villas, cultivating the sportive muse, enjoying my books, and untroubled by the cares of kings."