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Zenobia

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'I wish,' said she, 'I could give you the song which I am going to sing in
the language of the Hebrews, for it agrees better, I think, with the
sentiment and the character of the music, than the softer accents of the
Greek. But every thing is Greek now.'

So saying, she commenced with a prelude more sweetly and profoundly
melancholy than even the wailing of the night wind among the leafless
trees of the forest. This was followed by--an ode shall I call it?--or a
hymn?--for it was not what we mean by a song. Nor was the music like any
other music I had ever heard, but much more full of passion; broken, wild,
plaintive, triumphant by turns, it stirred all the deepest feelings of the
heart. It seemed to be the language of one in captivity, who, refusing to
sing one of the songs of his country for the gratification of his
conquerors, broke out into passionate strains of patriotism, in which he
exalted his desolated home to the Heavens, and prophesied in the boldest
terms her ultimate restoration to power and glory. The sentiment lost
nothing coming to the ear clothed in the rich music of Fausta's voice,
which rose and sank, swelled and died away, or was full of tears or joy,
as agreed with the theme of the poet. She was herself the poet, and the
captive, and the Jew, so wholly did she abandon herself to the sway of the
thoughts which she was expressing. One idea alone, however, had possessed
me while she sang--to which, the moment she paused, I first gave
utterance. 'And think you, Fausta,' said I, 'that while the captive Jew
remembers his country, the captive Roman will forget his? Never!
Calpurnius, if he lives, lives a Roman. For this I thank your song.
Melancholy and sad in itself, it has bred joy in my soul. I shall now
sleep well.' So saying, we separated.

Thus was passed my first evening in Palmyra.




Letter III.



With what pleasure do I again sit down, dear Curtius and Lucilia, to tell
you how I have passed my time, and what I have been able to accomplish,
since I last wrote; thrice happy that I have to report of success rather
than of defeat in that matter which I have undertaken. But first, let me
thank you for all the city gossip, with which you so greatly entertained
me in your joint epistle. Although I pass my hours and days in this
beautiful capital as happily as I could any where out of Rome, still my
letters from home are a great addition to my enjoyment. After rising from
perusal of yours and my mother's, I was a new man. Let me beg you--which
indeed I need hardly do--to send each letter of mine, as you receive it,
to Portia, and in return receive and read those which I have written and
shall continue to write to her. To you I shall give a narrative of events;
to her, I shall pour out sentiment and philosophy, as in our conversation
we are wont to do. I shall hope soon to have somewhat of interest to say
of the state of letters here, and of my interviews with distinguished men.
So soon as the Queen shall return from her excursion through some of her
distant provinces, I shall call upon Gracchus to fulfil his promise, and
make me known to the great Longinus, now with the Queen absent. From my
intercourse with him I shall look to draw up long and full reports of much
that shall afford both entertainment and instruction to you all.

I have now passed several days in Palmyra, and have a mass of things to
say. But instead of giving you a confused report, I shall separate one
thing from another, and set down each according to the time and manner
in which it happened. This is what I know you desire, and this is what
I shall do.

I cannot easily tell you how delicious was my slumber after that last day
of fatiguing travel, and that evening of to me the most exciting converse.
I dreamed that night of Calpurnius rescued and returned; and ever as he
was present to my sleeping fancy, the music of Fausta's harp and voice was
floating near.

Hannibal was early at my door to warn me of the hour of the morning meal,
Milo being still under the influences of the evening's potation. I was
shown to a different apartment from that in which we had supped, but
opening into it. It was a portico rather than a room, being on two sides
open to the shrubbery, with slender Ionic pillars of marble supporting the
ceiling, all joined together by the light interlacings of the most
gorgeous creeping plants. Their odors filled the air. A fountain threw up
in the most graceful forms its clear water, and spread all around an
agreeable coolness. Standing at those points where flights of steps led
down to the walks and plots of grass and flowers, which wound about the
palace, the eye wandered over the rich scene of verdure and blossom which
they presented, and then rested where it can never rest too often or too
long, upon the glittering shafts of the Temple of the Sun. This morning
prospect, from this single point, I thought was reward enough for my long
voyage and hot journey over the desert. It inspired more cheerful thoughts
than the same scene as I had seen it the evening before from the windows
of my chamber. I could not but draw omens of good from the universal smile
that beamed upon me from the earth and the heavens. Fausta's little hand
suddenly placed within mine, and the cheerful greeting of her voice, awoke
me from my dreamy state.

'Your countenance shows that you have slept well, Lucius,' said she; 'it
is bright as the morning itself. Your dreams must have been favorable. Or
else is it the wonder-working power of a Palmyrene air that has wrought so
with you since the last evening? Tell me, have you not slept as you never
slept in Rome?'

'I have slept well, indeed,' I replied, 'but I believe it was owing
rather to your harp and Jewish ode, than to any mysterious qualities of
the air. Your music haunted the chambers of my brain all night, and
peopled them with the forms of those whom I love, and whose memory it last
evening recalled so vividly. Mostly I dreamed of Calpurnius, and of his
return to Rome, and with him came ever your image dimly seen hovering
round, and the strains of your voice and harp. These are to me auguries of
good, even as if the voice of a god had spoken. I shall once more embrace
a brother--and what is even more, a Roman.'

'The gods grant it may be so!' replied Fausta: 'A prayer which I repeat,'
cried Gracchus, as he approached us from the hall, through which I had
just passed. 'I have thought much of your affair since I parted from you
last evening, and am more than ever persuaded that we came to a true
decision touching the steps best to be taken. To-day I shall be much
abroad, and shall not forget to search in every direction for one who may
be intrusted with this nice, and difficult, and withal dangerous business.
I can now think of no messenger who bids so fair to combine all the
qualities we most desire, as the Jew. I know but few of that tribe, and
those are among the rich. But then those rich are connected in various
ways with the poor--for to a marvellous extent they are one people---it
is the same you know in Rome--and through them I think I may succeed.'

'Now have you,' I quickly added, 'again poured light into my mind. Half
our labor is over. I know a Jew whose capacities could not be more fitting
for this enterprise. I saw much of him on board the vessel which took us
first to the African coast, where, at Utica, it set him on shore, bringing
me farther on to Berytus. He is a true citizen of the world--knows all
languages, and all people, and all places. He has all the shrewdness of
his race---their intelligence, their enthusiasm, and, I may add, their
courage. He is a traveller by profession, and a vender of such things as
any will buy, and will go wherever he may hope to make large gains
wherewith to do his share toward "building again the walls of Jerusalem,"
as he calls it. He has a home in every city of the East. It was toward
Palmyra that he was bending his way: and, as I now remember, promised that
he would see me here not many days after I should arrive, and have the
pleasure, as he trusted, to sell me more of his goods; for you must be
told that I did indeed traffic with him, however little it became a
patrician of Rome. And here I have about me, in a little casket, some
rings which I purchased of him, having upon them heads of Zenobia and
Odenatus, resembling the originals to the life, as he assured me with much
asseveration. See, Fausta, here they are. Look now, and tell me if he has
spoken in this instance the truth; if so, it will be a ground for trusting
him farther.'

'Beautiful!' exclaimed both Gracchus and Fausta. 'He has indeed dealt
honestly with you. Nothing can be more exact than these resemblances, and
the workmanship is worthy the hand of Demetrius the Greek.'

'Provincials,' said I, 'ever know the capital and its fashions better than
citizens. Now never till Isaac, my Jew friend, rehearsed to me the praises
of Demetrius the jeweller, had I ever heard his name, or aught concerning
his skill, and here in the heart of Asia he seems a household word.'

'It is so, indeed,' said Gracchus. 'I do not doubt that the fashionable
artists of every kind in Rome are better known to the followers of fashion
in Palmyra than they are to the patricians themselves. Wanting the real
greatness of Rome, we try to surpass her in the trappings of greatness. We
are well represented by the frog of Æsop; happy, if our swelling pride do
not destroy us. But these rings--they are indeed of exquisite art. The
head of Odenatus is truer to life, methinks, than that of the Queen.'

'And how can poor stone and gold set out the divine beauty and grace of
Zenobia!' cried Fausta. 'This is beautiful to you now, Lucius, but it will
be so no longer when you shall have seen her. Would that she were here! It
seems as if the sun were gone from the heavens, when she is absent from us
on these long excursions among her distant subjects.'

'Till then, dear Fausta,' said I, 'deign to wear on that only finger which
I see ungraced by a ring, this head of your so much vaunted Queen;
afterward wear it, if you will, not for her sake, but mine.'

So saying, upon her finger which she held out to me--and which how
beautiful it was I shall not say--I attempted to pass the ring, but
alas! it was too small, and would not, with all the gentle force I dared
to use, go on.

'Here is an omen, Fausta,' said I; 'the Queen cannot be forced upon your
hand. I fear your friendship is threatened.'

'Oh! never entertain any such apprehension,' interrupted Fausta. 'It is
quite needless. Here is plenty of room on this neighbor finger. It is
quite right that Aurelian, you know, should give way to Zenobia: so, away
with the Emperor!' and she snapped the ring across the pavement of the
Portico--'and now, Lucius, invest me with that burning beauty.'

'And now do you think you deserve it? I marvel, Gracchus, at the boldness
of these little girls. Verily, they bid fair to mount up over our heads.
But come, your finger: there--one cannot but say it becomes you better
than the fierce Aurelian. As for the deposed Emperor, he is henceforward
mine. Thus I re-instate him.' In saying which, I pursued and picked up the
discarded ring, and gave to it the most honored place upon my right hand.

Fausta now, first laughingly bidding me welcome to the ring, called us to
the table, where the breakfast, consisting of fruits in greater proportion
than with us, awaited us. Much talk now ensued concerning the city, its
growth and numbers, power and probable destiny. I was satisfied from what
fell from each, that the most ambitious designs are entertained by both
the court and people, and that their wonderful successes have bred in them
a real belief that they should have nothing to fear from the valor or
power of Rome, under any circumstances of collision. When this was
through, Gracchus, rising from his seat and pacing slowly up and down the
portico, spoke of my private affairs, and with great kindness went over
again the whole ground. The result was the same.

'Our way, then,' he said, 'is clear. Wait a few days for your fellow
traveller, Isaac. If he appears, well,--if not, we must then search the
quarter of the Jews for one who may do as good service perhaps. I now
leave you, with a suggestion to Fausta that she should take it upon her to
drive you round the city, and into the suburbs. No one can perform the
office of a guide better than she.'

'If Fausta will take that trouble upon her,' I replied, 'it will
give me----'

'A great deal of pleasure, you were going to say; so it will me. I am sure
we shall enjoy it. If I love any thing, it is to reveal to a proud Roman
the glories of Palmyra. Take away from a Roman that ineffable air which
says "Behold embodied in me the majesty of Rome!" and there remains a very
agreeable person. But for those qualities of mind and manners which fit
men and women for society, the Roman men and women must yield to the
Palmyrenes. So I think, who have seen somewhat of both--and so
think--gainsay my authorities if you have the courage--Longinus and the
Bishop of Antioch. I see that you are disturbed. No wonder. Longinus,
though a philosopher, is a man of the world, who sees through its ways as
clearly as he does through the mysticism of Plato, and that asks for good
eyes; and for the bishop--there is not so finished a gentleman in all the
East. His appointments are not less exquisite than those of the highest
noble either of Antioch or Palmyra. If an umpire in any question of
manners were to be chosen, it would be he.'

'As for the Greek,' I rejoined, 'I am predisposed to admit his superior
claims. I will surrender to him with alacrity my doubts both in manners
and philosophy. For I hold there is a philosophy in manners, nay, even in
clothes, and that the highest bred intellect will on that very account
best perceive the nice distinctions and relations, in the exact
perception and observance of which the highest manners consist. Such an
one may offend against the last device in costume--and the last
refinement in the recondite art of a bow--but he will eternally excel in
all that we mean by breeding. Your bishop I know nothing of, but your
account of him strikes me not very agreeably. These Christian bishops,
methinks, are taking upon themselves too much. And besides, if what I
gathered of the theory of their religion from a passenger on board the
Mediterranean trader, be correct, they depart greatly from the severity
of their principles, when they so addict themselves to the practices of
courts and of the rich. I received from this Christian a beautiful idea
of his faith, and only lamented that our companionship was broken off
before I had had time fully to comprehend all he had to say. The
character of this man, and his very countenance, seemed as arguments to
support the strict opinions which he advanced. This bishop, I think, can
scarcely do his faith the same service.'

'I know him not much,' said Fausta, 'and of his faith, nothing. He has
great power over the Princess Julia, and it would not much amaze me if, by
and by, she declared herself a Christian. It is incredible how that
superstition spreads. But here is our carriage. Come, let us forth.'

So, breaking off our talk, we betook ourselves to the carriage. How shall
I find language, my Curtius, to set before you with the vividness of the
reality, or with any approach to it, the pictures which this drive through
and around Palmyra caused to pass successively before me? You know indeed,
generally, what the city is, from the reports of former travellers,
especially from the late book of Spurius, about which and its speculations
much was said a little while since. But let me tell you, a more one-sided,
one-eyed, malignant observer never thrust himself upon the hospitalities
of a free, open-hearted people, than that same Spurius, poet and
bibliopole. His very name is an offence to the Palmyrenes, who, whatever
national faults they may have, do not deserve the deep disgrace of being
brought before the world in the pages of so poor a thing as the said
Ventidius Spurius. Though it will not be my province to treat as an author
of the condition, policy, and prospects of Palmyra, yet to you and my
friends I shall lay myself open with the utmost freedom, and shall refrain
from no statement or opinion that shall possess, or seem to do so, truth
or importance.

The horses springing from under the whip of the charioteer, soon bore us
from the great entrance of the palace into the midst of the throng that
crowded the streets. The streets, seen now under the advantages of a warm
morning sun adding a beauty of its own to whatever it glanced upon, showed
much more brilliantly than ours of Rome. There is, in the first place, a
more general sumptuousness in equipage and dress, very striking to the eye
of a Roman. Not perhaps that more wealth is displayed, but the forms and
the colors, through which it displays itself, are more various, more
tasteful, more gorgeous. Nothing can exceed, nothing equals, it is said,
any where in the world, the state of the Queen and her court; and this
infects, if I may use so harsh a word, the whole city. So that, though
with far less of real substantial riches than we have, their extravagance
and luxury are equal, and their taste far before us. Then every thing
wears a newer, fresher look than in Rome. The buildings of the republic,
which many are so desirous to preserve, and whole streets even of
ante-Augustan architecture, tend to spread around here and there in Rome a
gloom--to me full of beauty and poetry--but still gloom. Here all is
bright and gay. The buildings of marble--the streets paved and
clean--frequent fountains of water throwing up their foaming jets, and
shedding around a delicious coolness--temples, and palaces of the nobles,
or of wealthy Palmyrene merchants--altogether present a more brilliant
assemblage of objects than I suppose any other city can boast. Then
conceive, poured through these long lines of beautiful edifices, among
these temples and fountains, a population drawn from every country of the
far East, arrayed in every variety of the most showy and fanciful costume;
with the singular animals, rarely seen in our streets, but here met at
every turn--elephants, camels, and dromedaries, to say nothing of the
Arabian horses, with their jewelled housings, with every now and then a
troop of the Queen's cavalry, moving along, to the sound of their clanging
trumpets--conceive, I say, this ceaseless tide of various animal life
poured along among the proud piles, and choking the ways, and you will
have some faint glimpse of the strange and imposing reality.

Fausta was in raptures at my transports, and in her pleasant but
deep-meaning way, boasted much over the great capital of the world. So we
rode along, slowly, because of the crowded state of the streets, and on
account of my desire to observe the manners and ways of the people--their
shops, which glittered with every rare work of art--and the devices, so
similar in all places of trade, by which the seller attracts the buyer. I
was engrossed by objects of this sort, when Fausta's voice drew my
attention another way.

'Now,' said she, 'prepare yourself for the glory of Palmyra; look when we
shall suddenly turn round the next corner, on the left, and see what you
shall see.'

The chariot soon whirled round the indicated corner, and we found
ourselves in full view of the Temple of the Sun, so famous throughout the
world. Upon a vast platform of marble, itself decorated with endless lines
of columns--elsewhere of beauty and size sufficient for the principal
building, but here a mere appendage--stood in solitary magnificence this
peerless work of art. All I could do was, and the act was involuntary, to
call upon the charioteer to rein up his horses and let me quietly gaze. In
this Fausta, nothing unwilling, indulged me. Then, when satisfied with
this the first point of view, we wound slowly round the spacious square
upon which it stands, observing it well in all directions, and taking my
fill of that exalted but nameless pleasure which flows in upon the soul
from the contemplation of perfect excellence.

'This is, if I err not, Fausta, the work of a Greek artist.'

'It is,' said she: 'here both Romans and Palmyrenes must acknowledge
their inferiority, and indeed all other people. In every city of the
world, I believe, all the great works of art are the offspring of Grecian
genius and Grecian taste. Truly, a wonderful people! In this very city,
our artists--our men of letters--even the first ministers of state--all
are Greeks. But come, let us move on to the Long Portico, an edifice
which will astonish you yet more than even the Temple of the Sun, through
your having heard of it so much less. We shall reach it in about half a
Roman mile.'

This space was soon passed, and the Portico stood revealed with its
interminable ranges of Corinthian columns, and the busy multitudes winding
among them, and, pursuing their various avocations, for which this
building offers a common and convenient ground. Here the merchants
assemble and meet each other. Here various articles of more than common
rarity are brought and exhibited for sale. Here the mountebanks resort,
and entertain the idle and lovers of amusement with their fantastic
tricks. And here strangers from all parts of the world may be seen walking
to and fro, observing the customs of the place, and regaling themselves at
the brilliant rooms, furnished with every luxury, which are opened for
their use, or else at the public baths which are found in the immediate
neighborhood. The Portico does not, like the Temple, stand upon an
elevated platform, but more upon a level with the streets. Its greatness
is derived from its extreme length, and its exquisitely-perfect designs
and workmanship, as seen in the graceful fluted columns and the rich
entablature running round the whole. The life and achievements of
Alexander are sculptured upon the frieze; the artist--a Greek also--having
been allowed to choose his own theme.

'Fausta,' said I, 'my soul is steeped in beauty. It will be to no purpose
to show me more now. I am like one who has eaten too much--forgive the
figure--delicacies are lost upon him.'

'I cannot release you yet,' cried Fausta; 'a little farther on, and you
may see the palace of our great Queen; give me your patience to that
point, and I will then relieve you by a little excursion through the
suburbs, where your eye may repose upon a rural beauty as satisfying as
this of the city. You must see the palace. There!--we are already in
sight of it.'

It rose upon us, so vast is it, and of so many parts, like a city within a
city. A fit dwelling for so great, so good, and so beautiful a woman. Of
this you will find a careful and true account, with drawings, which
greatly help the imagination, in the otherwise vile book of the traducer
Spurius. To that I refer you, and so refrain from all description.

We now left the city, and wound at our leisure among the shady avenues,
the noble country retreats, the public gardens, the groves and woods which
encompass the walls, and stretch away far beyond the sight, into the
interior. Returning, we passed through the arches of the vast aqueduct
which pours into the city a river of the purest water. This is the most
striking object, and noblest work of art, without the walls.

When we had passed in this way nearly the whole day, we at length
re-entered the city by the Persian Gate, on the eastern side,

'Now, Fausta,' said I, 'having given so much of the day to pleasure, I
must give the rest, not to pain, but to duty. I will seek out and find, if
I can, Demetrius, brother to Demetrius of Rome. From him I can learn, it
seems probable, concerning the movements of Isaac.'

'You will find the shop of Demetrius in the very heart of the city, midway
between the Persian and Roman gates. Farewell, for a time, and may the
gods prosper you!'

I was not long in making my way to the shop of the Greek. I found the
skilful Demetrius busily engaged in putting the last polish upon a small
silver statue of a flying Mercury. He looked up as I entered, and saluting
me in Greek, invited me to look at his works. I could not for a long time
take off my eyes from the figure upon which he was working, and expressed
my admiration.

'Ah, it is very well, I think, said he, 'but it is nothing compared with
the work of my brother at Rome. You know him doubtless?'

'Indeed I do not, I am obliged to say.'

'What!--a Roman, as I perceive, and a patrician also, and not know
Demetrius the goldsmith?--he who was the favorite of Valerian, and
Gallienus, and Claudius, and now of Aurelian? There is no hand like that
of Demetrius the elder. These, sir, are mere scratches, to his divine
touch. These are dolls, compared with the living and breathing gold as it
leaves his chisel. Sir, it is saying nothing beyond belief, when I say,
that many a statue like this, of his, is worth more than many a living
form that we see in and out of the shop. Forgive me, but I must say I
would rather possess one of his images of Venus or Apollo, than a live
Roman--though he be a patrician too.'

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