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Zenobia

W >> William Ware >> Zenobia




Thy brother listened to me with unmoved countenance and folded arms,
receiving passively whatever I was pleased to say. When I paused, he said,
in a tone of sadness, though of affected pleasantry:

'Jew, I am the worst subject for thee in all Ecbatana. I am a man without
wants. I do nothing but live, and I have nothing to do to live.'

'Now,' I replied, 'is it time for me to die, having seen the chief wonder
of the world--a man without wants.'

'There is a greater yet,' said he smiling; 'thou must live on.'

'And what is that?'

'A woman.'

'Thou hast me. But I can easily compound with life. I have many wants, yet
I love it. I was but a day or two since buried alive under the burning
sands of the desert, and lost there a dromedary worth--if a
farthing--four hundred aurelians, for which thou mayest have him. Yet I
love to live, and take the chances of the world as they turn up. Here now
have I all the way consoled myself with the thought of what I might sell
to the great Prince Hormisdas, and thou seest my reward. Still I cry my
goods with the same zeal. But surely thou wantest something? I have jewels
from Rome--of the latest fashion.'

'I want nothing from Rome.'

Seeing no one was near, and lowering my voice, I said, 'Thou wantest
nothing from Rome? What wouldst thou give, Roman, for news from Rome?'

'News from Rome? Not an obolus. How knowest thou me to be a Roman? But
now, I was the prince Hormisdas.'

'I have seen thee many times, and know thee well, as the Roman Piso. I
have news for thee.'

'The prince approaches!' said Piso, in a hurried manner. 'Begone, but come
again at the hour of dusk, and I shall be alone, and will have thee
admitted within the gates of the palace.'

The fates ordering it so, I was obliged to depart, and trust again to the
future for such chances of renewing my conversation with him as it might
have to offer. Here let me tell thee, Lucius Piso, that not having seen
thy brother, thou hast never seen a man. He is one with every mark of the
noblest manhood. His air is that of a born prince of the highest bearing,
yet free and unrestrained. The beauty of his countenance is beyond that of
any other I have ever seen, yet is it a manly beauty. A line of dark short
hair covers his upper lip. His eyes are large and dark, yet soft in their
general expression. He seems of a melancholy and thoughtful temper, and
sometimes in his words there is an inexpressible bitterness. Yet it has
appeared to me, that his nature is gentle, and that the other character is
one accidental or assumed. If I should compare him with any one for
beauty, it would be, Roman, not with thee--though I see him and thee to be
of the same stock--but with the princess Julia. Were her beauty only made
masculine, she would then be Calpurnius; or were his made feminine, he
would then be Julia. But this fancy might not strike others. His features
and air are not so much Roman as oriental--thine are purely Roman. It may
be that costume alone imparts this Eastern aspect to the countenance and
the form--for his dress is wholly that of a Persian.

As I passed into the dwelling of my host, entering it as at first by the
way of the shop, its owner was holding a conversation of business with
some of his customers. How does money seem native to the palm of some men!
They have but to open it, and straight it is lined with gold. If they
blunder, it is into more wealth. With wit scarce sufficient to make it
clear to another that they are properly men, do they manage to make
themselves the very chief of all, by reason of the riches they heap
up--which ever have claimed and received, and ever will, the homage of the
world. Levi is of this sort. The meanness of his understanding words
cannot express--or no words but his own. He was talking after this manner,
as I entered, to one who seemed to hold him in utmost reverence:

'The thing is so--the thing is so. If 't were otherwise 'tis most clear it
would not be the same. Ha! The price may change. Who can say? The world is
full of change. But it cannot be less, and leave a gain to the
seller--unless indeed, circumstances altering, the profit should still he
the same. But who can understand the future? An hour is more than I can
comprehend. He that deals well with the present, is it not he, Holy
Abraham! who best secures the passing time? It cannot be denied!'

As the oracle ended, the Persian bowed low, saying:

'The wisdom of it is clearer than the light. I shall so report to the
prince.' Seeing me, he, in his friendly way, inquired after my success,
shaking his head at what he is pleased to regard my mad enterprise.
'Better not meddle nor make in such matters. With thy pack upon thy back,
and exercising diligence, thou wouldst become rich here in the streets of
Ecbatana. And for what else shouldst thou care? 'Tis only money that
remains the same in the midst of change. All agree in the value they place
upon this, while they agree in nothing else. Who can remember a difference
here? Leave thy project, Isaac, which thou must have undertaken half for
love, and I will make thee a great man in Ecbatana.' Little does he know
of Isaac, and thou I believe as little.

No sooner had the god of these idolaters gone down to his rest, and the
friendly twilight come, than I set forth for the palace of Hormisdas. Upon
coming beneath the gallery, I waited not long before thy brother appeared,
and pointed out the way in which, through a low and private entrance at a
remote spot, I might reach an apartment where I should find him. Following
his directions, and accompanied by Hadad, I was received, at the specified
place, by a slave of the palace, who conducted me to Piso's presence. It
was in one of his more private apartments, but still sumptuously set out
with every article of Persian luxury, in which I found myself once more in
company with thy brother, and where I ordered Hadad to display for his
entertainment the most curious and costly of the contents of his pack.

'I marvel chiefly, Roman,' I began by saying, 'at the ease with which I
obtain an entrance into the palace, and into thine own apartment. I had
thought this to have been attended with both difficulty and danger.'

'It is not without danger,' he replied; 'thou mayst lose thy head for this
adventure. But this risk I suppose thee to have weighed. Every one in
Ecbatana knows Sapor and me--with what jealousy I am guarded--and that the
king will not flinch to keep his word, and take off any head that meddles.
But fear not. The king is old and weak, and though cruel as ever, forgets
me as every thing else. Besides, it is found that I am so good a Persian,
that all strictness in the watch has long since ceased. Half Ecbatana
believe me more a Persian than a Roman--and in truth they are right.'

'Thou hast not, Roman, forgotten thy country! Surely thou hast not, though
suffering captivity, ceased to love and long for thy native land. The Jew
never forgets his. He lives indeed in every corner and hole of the earth,
but ever in the hope--'tis this that keeps his life--either himself or
through his children to dwell once more within the walls of Jerusalem, or
among the hills and valleys of Judea.'

'Where we are not loved nor remembered, we cannot love,' he bitterly
replied. 'I loved Rome once, more than I loved parent or kindred. The
greatness and glory of Rome were to me infinitely more than my own. For
her--in my beardless youth--I was ready to lay down my life at any
moment. Nay, when the trial came, and the good Valerian set forth to
redeem the East from the encroaching power of Persia, I was not found
wanting, but abandoned a home, than which there was not a prouder nor
happier within the walls of Rome, to take my chance with the emperor and
my noble father. The issue thou knowest. How has Rome remembered me, and
the brave legions that with me fell into the hands of these fierce
barbarians? Even as Gallienus the son seemed to rejoice in the captivity
of his parent, so has Rome the mother seemed to rejoice in the captivity
of her children. Not an arm has she lifted, not a finger has she moved,
to lighten the chains of our bondage, or rescue us from this thraldom.
Rome is no longer my country.'

'Consider, Roman,' I replied, 'in extenuation of thy country's fault, who
it was that succeeded the good Valerian--then the brief reign of virtuous
Claudius, who died ere a single purpose had time to ripen--and the hard
task that has tied the hands of Aurelian on the borders of Gaul and
Germany. Have patience.'

'Dost thou not blush, old man,' he said, 'with that long gray beard of
thine, and thy back bent with years, to stand there the apologist of
crime? If ingratitude and heartlessness are to be defended, and numbered
among the virtues, the reign of Arimanes has indeed begun. Such is not the
lesson, Jew, thy sacred books have taught thee. But a truce with this! Thy
last words this morning were, that thou hadst news for me. For Roman news
I care not, nor will hear. If thou canst tell me aught of family and
friends, say on--although--O gods, that it should be so!--even they seem
to share the guilt of all. How many messengers have I bribed with gold,
more than thou hast ever seen, Jew, to bear my letters to Rome, and never
a word has been returned of good or evil. Canst thou tell me any thing of
Portia my mother? or of Lucius Piso my brother? Live they?'

'Do I not know them well?' I replied: 'who that dwells in Rome knows not
the noble Portia? She lives yet; and long may she live, the friend of all!
To Jew, and even to Nazarene, she is good, even as to her own. Never did
age, or want, or helplessness, ask of her in vain. Years have not stopped
the fountains of her tears, nor chilled a single affection of her heart.
And dost thou think that while she remembers the outcast Jew, and the
despised Nazarene, she forgets her own offspring? Where is thy heart,
Roman, to suppose it? Have I not heard her, many a time, when I have been
to solicit alms for some poor unfortunate of my tribe, run back upon the
line of years, and speak of the wars of Valerian, of the day when she
parted from her great husband, and her two sons, and of that dark day too
when the news came that they were all fast in the clutch of that foul
barbarian, Sapor---and stood a silent and astonished witness of a love,
such as I never saw in any other, and which seemed so great as to be a
necessary seed of death to her frail and shattered frame? Of thee
especially have I heard her descant as mothers will, and tell one after
another of all thy beauties, nay and of the virtues which bound her to
thee so, and of her trust so long cherished, that thou, more than either
of her other sons, wouldst live to sustain, and even bear up higher, the
name of Piso.'

'My noble mother! was it so indeed?'

'How should it be otherwise? Is it any thing that thou hast not heard from
her? Was she to tempt herself the horrors of a Persian journey? Was she,
in her age, to seek thee over the sands of Asia? or thy brother?
Especially when it was held in Rome not more certain that Valerian was
dead, than that thy father and thou wert also. The same messengers related
both events. No other news ever came from Ctesiphon. Was not one event as
likely as the other? Did not both rest upon the same authority? In the
same commemorative acts of the Senate were thy name, thy father's, thy
brother's, and the emperor's, with others who were also believed to have
perished. Was Portia alone, of all Rome, to give the lie to universal
fame? As for thy messengers, art thou so foolish as to believe that one
ever crossed the desert, or escaped the meshes set for him by the jealous
and malignant Sapor?'

'It is enough, Jew--say no more.'

'But I have much more to say, or else be false to those who sent me.'

'Sent thee? who sent thee? Speak! do Portia then, and Lucius, know that I
live? And art thou here a messenger from them?'

'It is even so.'

Thy brother was greatly moved. At first he made as though he would have
embraced me, but turned and paced with quick and agitated steps the room.

I then related to him how we had in Rome first heard through that soldier
a rumor of his being yet alive--but at the same time, that he had
renounced his country and become a Persian Satrap. I told him of thy faith
in him and of Portia's that he would never prove a recreant to his
country--of thy instant journey to Palmyra, with purpose to cross the
desert thyself and risk all the dangers of Ecbatana to accomplish his
deliverance, and of the counsel of Gracchus, which caused thee to make me
a substitute.

'Lucius then,' he at length said, approaching me, 'is in Palmyra?
Is it so?'

'It is,' I said. 'At least I left him there. He was to remain there, and
learn the issue of my attempt. If I perished, or failed in the endeavor to
obtain thy freedom, then was it his purpose himself to try--unless in the
mean time he should learn through me, or otherwise, that thou wert too
wedded to Persia and to Persian customs, to consent to change them for
Rome and Roman ways.'

'Jew, thou seest that now I hesitate. Thou hast roused all the son, the
brother, and something of the Roman within me. I am drawn many ways. To
Rome I will never return. Toward her, a resentment burns deep within,
which I know will close only with life itself. But toward Palmyra, my
heart yearns 'Twas Zenobia alone of all the world that ever moved for the
rescue of Valerian: 'twas she alone of all the world, who pitied our
sorrows, and though she could not heal, avenged them. Her image has been a
dear source of consolation in this long captivity. I have eagerly sought
for all that could be obtained concerning her character, her acts, her
policy, and the state of her affairs. And often have I thought to slip my
bonds and throw myself at her feet, to serve with her, if need should be,
either against Rome or Persia. But habit has prevailed, and the generous
friendship of Hormisdas, to keep me here. And why should I change this not
unpleasing certainty for the doubtful future that must await me in
Palmyra? Here I am in the very lap of luxury. I am, as I have said to
thee, a man without wants. All countries, and climates, and seas, and
arts, minister to my pleasure. The learning of ancient and of modern
times, you see there piled upon shelves, to entertain my leisure, or task
my hours of study. I am without care--without the necessity of toil--with
a palace, its slaves, and, I may add, its prince, at my command. And
beyond all this present reality, there is the prospect of every thing else
that Persia contains, upon the death of Sapor, which, in the course of
nature, cannot be far off, if violence do not anticipate that hour. Yet
what thou now tellest me, renews my desire of change. Lucius is in
Palmyra--perhaps he would dwell there. 'Tis the home, I learn, of many
noble Romans. Who can say that Portia might not come and complete our
happiness?'

And saying these things, he began to muse. He again paced with folded arms
the long apartment. I saw that he was still distracted by doubts. I knew
of but one thing more to say, by which to work upon his passionate nature.
I resolved to say it, though I know not what thou wilt think of it, nor
what the event may be. There was, thou knowest, ere I left Palmyra, rumor
of war between Palmyra and Rome. Barely to name this, it seemed to me,
would be on the instant to fix his wavering mind. I could not withstand
the temptation. But, Piso once in Palmyra, and sure I am I shall be
forgiven. I began again thus.

'Gracchus too, Roman; dost thou not remember the family of Gracchus? He
also is in Palmyra.'

'Ay, I remember him well. A man of true nobility--now one of the Queen's
chief advisers, and head of the Senate. He had a daughter too, who, her
mother dying young, was committed to the care of Portia, and was as a
sister. Does she live?--and dwells she in Palmyra?'

'She lives, and beneath her father's roof. Fame speaks loudly of her
beauty and her wit, and more loudly still of her young wisdom, and
influence with the Queen. Her spirit is the counterpart of Zenobia's. She
is, notwithstanding her long Roman nurture, a Palmyrene of the truest
stamp. And ever since there have been these rumors of a war with Rome'--

'What sayst thou? What is that? War with Rome? Did I hear aright?'

'Verily thou didst. 'Twas the current report when I left Palmyra. It came
both by the way of Antioch and Alexandria. Nothing was talked of else.
Ever since, I say--'

'Why hast thou not said this before? How shall I believe thee?'

'I said it not before, simply because I thought not of it. How was I to
know what thou most desiredst to hear? I can give thee no other ground of
belief than common rumor. If my own opinion will weigh aught, I may add,
that for myself I have not a doubt that the report springs from truth.
When at Rome, it was commonly spoken of, and by those too whom I knew to
be near the emperor, that Aurelian felt himself aggrieved and insulted,
that a woman should hold under her dominion territories that once belonged
to Rome, and who had wrested them from Rome by defeat of Roman
generals--and had sworn to restore the empire in the East as well as West,
to its ancient bounds. At Palmyra too I found those who were of deep
intelligence in the politics of the times, who felt sure of nothing more
than that, what with the pride of Zenobia and the ambition of Aurelian,
war was inevitable. I tell thee these things as they fell upon my ear.
Before this, as I think, it is most likely that war may have broken out
between the two nations.'

'Thou hast now spoken, Jew,' said Calpurnius. 'Hadst thou said these
things at first, thou hadst spared me much tormenting doubt. My mind is
now bent and determined upon flight. This it will not be difficult, I
think, to accomplish. But what is thy plan?--for I suppose, coming upon
this errand, thou hast one well digested. But remember now, as I have
already warned thee, that thy head will answer for any failure: detection
will be death.'

'Death is little to a Jew, who in dying dies for his country. And such
would be my death. Whether I live or die, 'tis for Jerusalem. Thy brother
rewards me largely for this journey, and these dangers I encounter; and
if I perish, the double of the whole sum agreed upon is to be paid
according to certain directions left with him. I would rather live; but I
shall not shrink from death. But, Piso, detection shall not ensue. I have
not lived to this age, to writhe upon a Persian spear, or grin from over a
Persian gateway. What I have devised is this. Thou seest my slave Hadad?'

'I see him--an Ethiopian.'

'So he seems to thee. But his skin is white as thine. By an art, known
only to me, it has been changed to this ebon hue.'

'What follows?'

'This. Thou art to take his place, thy skin being first made to resemble
his, while he is cleansed, and remains in Ecbatana. We then, thou bearing
my packages of merchandise, take our way, quietly and in broad day-light,
through the gates of Ecbatana. How sayst thou?'

'The invention is perfect. I cannot fear the result.

'So soon then as I shall have made some few preparations, for which
to-morrow will suffice, I shall be ready for the desert.'

I heard these words with joy. I now called to Hadad to open his cases of
jewels, from which I took a seal, having upon it the head of Zenobia, and
offered it to Calpurnius. He seized it with eagerness, having never
before seen even so much as a drawing of the Great Queen. I then drew
forth thine own ring and gave him, with that locket containing the hair
of Portia, and thy letter. He received them with emotion; and as I
engaged myself in re-packing my goods, my quick ear caught tears falling
upon the sheet as he read.

I then returned to the house of Levi.

Thus have I accomplished, successfully so far, my errand. I write these
things to thee, because a caravan leaves Ecbatana in the morning, and may
reach Palmyra before ourselves; though it is quite possible that we may
overtake and join it. But we may also be delayed for many days. So that it
is right, in that case, thou shouldst hear.

* * * * *

In these words, my Curtius, you have, for the most part, the letter of
Isaac. I have omitted many things which at another time you shall see.
They are such as relate chiefly to himself and his faith--abounding in
cautions against that heretic Probus, who haunts his imagination as if he
were the very genius of evil.

How can I believe it, that within a few hours I may embrace a brother,
separated so long, and so long numbered with the dead? Yet how mixed the
pleasure! He returns a brother, but not a Roman. Nay, 'tis the expectation
of war with Rome, that has gained him. I am perplexed and sad, at the same
time that I leap for joy. Fausta cannot conceal her satisfaction--yet she
pities me. Gracchus tells us to moderate our feelings and expectations, as
the full cup is often spilled. No more now--except this--that you fail not
at once to send this letter to Portia. Farewell!




Letter IX.



Several days have elapsed since I last wrote, yet Calpurnius is not
arrived. I am filled with apprehensions. I fear lest he may have thought
too lightly of the difficulties of an escape, and of the strictness with
which he is watched; for while he seems to have held it an easy matter to
elude the vigilance of his keepers, common opinion at Ecbatana appears to
have judged very differently. Yet, after all, I cannot but rely with much
confidence upon the discretion and the cunning of Isaac. I must now relate
what has happened in the mean time.

It was the morning after Isaac's letter had been received and read, that
Milo presented himself, with a countenance and manner indicative of some
inward disturbance.

'And what,' I asked, 'may be the matter?'

'Enough is the matter, both for yourself and me,' he replied. 'Here now
has been a wretch of an Arab, a fellow of no appearance, a mere
camel-driver, desiring to see you. I told him flatly that you were not to
be seen by scum such as he. I advised him to be gone, before he might have
to complain of a broken head. And what do you suppose was the burden of
his errand? Why truly to ask of the most noble Piso concerning his wife
and child! I begged him to consider whether, supposing you did know aught
concerning them, you would deign to communicate with a sun-baked beggar of
the desert like him. Whereupon he raised a lance longer than a mast, and
would have run me through, but for the expertness with which I seized and
wrested it from him, and then broke it over his head. 'Twas the same
scowling knave whose camels choked the street the first day we entered the
city, and who sent his curse after us. Hassan is his name. His eye left a
mark on me that's not out yet. A hyena's is nothing to it.'

Thus did he run on. I could have speared him as willingly as Hassan. It
was plain that the husband of the woman found in the desert by Isaac,
hearing a rumor of intelligence received by me, had been to obtain such
information as possibly I might possess of his wife and child. Upon
asking my slave where the camel-driver now was, he replied that, 'Truly
he did not know; he had been driven from the court-yard with blows, and
it was a mercy that his life was left to him. He had been taught how
again to curse Romans.'

It was in vain that I assured him once and again that he was no longer in
the service of an emperor, and that it was unnecessary to treat me with
quite so much deference; his only regret was that the robber had got off
so easily. As the only reparation in my power for such stupidity and
inhumanity, I ordered Milo instantly to set forth in search of Hassan, in
the quarter of the city which the Arabs chiefly frequent, and finding him,
to bring him to the house of Gracchus, for I had news for him. This was
little relished by Milo, and I could see, by the change of his
countenance, that his cowardly soul was ill-inclined to an encounter with
the insulted Arab, in the remote parts of the city, and unaccompanied by
any of the slaves of the palace. Nevertheless, he started upon his
errand--but, as I afterward learned, bribed Hannibal to act as life-guard.

Thinking that I might possibly fall in with him myself, and desirous,
moreover, of an occupation that should cause me to forget Calpurnius and
my anxieties for a season, I went forth also, taking the paths that first
offered themselves. A sort of instinct drew me, as it almost always does,
to one of the principal streets of the city, denominated, from the size
and beauty of the trees which adorn it, the Street of Palms. This is an
avenue which traverses the city in its whole length; and at equal
distances from its centre, and also running its whole length, there
shoots up a double row of palms, which, far above the roofs of the
highest buildings, spread out their broad and massy tufts of leaves, and
perfectly protect the throngs below from the rays of the blazing sun.
Thus a deep shadow is cast upon the floor of the street, while at the
same time, it is unencumbered by the low branches, which on every other
kind of tree stretch out in all directions, and obstruct the view, taking
away a greater beauty and advantage than they give. This palm is not the
date-bearing species, but of another sort, attaining a loftier growth,
and adorned with a larger leaf. A pity truly it is, that Rome cannot
crown itself with this princely diadem; but even though the bitter blasts
from the Appennines did not prevent, a want of taste for what is
beautiful would. The Roman is a coarse form of humanity, Curtius,
compared with either the Greek or the Palmyrene. Romans will best conquer
the world, or defend it; but its adorning should be left to others.
Their hands are rude, and they but spoil what they touch. Since the days
of Cicero, and the death of the Republic, what has Rome done to advance
any cause, save that of slavery and licentiousness? A moral Hercules is
needed to sweep it clean of corruptions, which it is amazing have not ere
this drawn down the thunder of the gods. Julia would say that Christ is
that Hercules. May it be so!

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