Part 15 (2/2)

'Let not the Queen,' resumed Otho, as Zabdas ceased, 'let not the Queen doubt my faith'--'I doubt it not, good Otho,' she replied; 'heed not the sharp words of the impetuous Zabdas; in his zeal for the art he only loves and for his Queen, he has thrust his lance hither and thither at all adventures, but as in the sports of the field he means no injury.'

'Zabdas intends no wrong, I am well a.s.sured,' rejoined Otho. 'I would only add a word, to show upon what I ground my doubt of good success, should Aurelian muster all his strength. It cannot be thought that I have lost my faith in the military genius and prowess of either Zen.o.bia or Zabdas, with both of whom, side by side, I have fought so many times, and by their conduct mounted up to victory. Neither do I doubt the courage of our native Palmyrenes, nor their devotion to the interests of their country. They will war to the death. But should a second army be to be raised, should the chosen troops of the city and its neighboring territories be once cut off, upon whom are we then to rely? Where are the auxiliaries whom we can trust? What reliance can be placed upon Arabs, the Armenians, the Saracens, the Cappadocians, the Syrians? Is our empire so old, and so well moulded into one ma.s.s, so single in interest and affection, that these scattered tribes--formerly hostile to each other and to us, many, most of them at different times subject to Rome--may be depended upon as our own people? Have we legions already drawn from their numbers, disciplined, and accustomed to our modes of warfare? Truly, this war with Rome seems to be approached much as if it were but some pa.s.sing show of arms, some holiday pastime. But the G.o.ds grant that none of my forebodings turn true!'

The words of the sober-minded and honest Otho found no echo in the bosoms of those who heard him, and he ceased, when I believe he would willingly have gone on to a closer and sharper opposition. Others followed him, each one present eagerly pressing forward to utter, were it but one word, to show his loyalty, and his zeal in the service of his Queen.

When all, or nearly all, had in this manner manifested their attachment and declared their opinions, the Queen turned to me, saying, that as I had there heard so much of what I could not approve, and perhaps had power to disprove, it was right that if I wished I should also express my opinions; nay, it would be esteemed as a favor by herself, and she was sure also by all her friends, if I would freely impart any knowledge I might possess, by which any error might be corrected, or false impressions dissipated.

Being thus invited, I not unwillingly entered into the questions that had been agitated, and with earnestness and sincerity, and with all the power I could bring to bear, labored to expose the imminent hazard to the very existence of the kingdom, which was run by this rash encounter with the countless hosts of Rome. I revealed a true picture of the resources of our country, and sketched, as I could so well do in their proper colors, the character of the fierce Aurelian; and, in a word, did all that a Roman could do for Rome, and a Palmyrene for Palmyra. I remembered what Otho had told me of the courtesy and willingness with which any company of genuine Palmyrenes would listen to me, and shrank not from any statement however harsh and grating to their national vanity, but which seemed to me to convey the wholesome truth. It appeared to me indeed too late to work any change in minds so pledged already to an adopted opinion, but I resolved to leave nothing untried to turn them from a bent that must end in irretrievable ruin. I was encouraged too, and urged on to more than a common effort, by the imploring countenance of the Princess Julia, who, in that expressive manner, begged me to use all frankness and boldness in my communications. Otho had, it is true, with great power and unshrinking fidelity, advocated the cause of peace, and laid bare the true motives to the war, but still it appeared to me that much might be said by a Roman and a stranger, that would carry with it more weight than as coming from a citizen, however loved and respected. To you, my friend, I need enter into no detail; you will easily imagine what it was, as a Roman, I should urge upon such an occasion, and in such a presence. I shall always remember with satisfaction, I am sure, whatever the issue of this difference may be, my efforts to preserve peace between two nations, whose best interests must be advanced not by enmity and war, but by the closest alliance of friendly intercourse.

I was heard with attention and respect, and afterwards with sincerity thanked, not only by the opposers of the present measures, but by their advocates also; they were glad to know the worst that could be said against the cause they had espoused. A brief silence ensued as I ended, and the eyes of all were instinctively turned upon Zen.o.bia, the ruling spirit--the maker of the kingdom--its soul--its head--and bright, peerless crown.

'It was my wish,' said Zen.o.bia, answering the general expectation, 'before the final decision of the senate and the council, to receive from my friends, in social confidence, a full expression of their feelings, their opinions, their hopes, and their fears, concerning the present posture of our affairs. My wish has been gratified, and I truly thank you all, and not least those my friends--as a philosopher, should I not term them my best friends?--who, with a generous trust in me and in you who are on my part, have not shrunk from the duty, always a hard one, of exposing the errors and the faults of those they love. After such exposure--and which at more length and with more specification will, I trust, be repeated in the hearing of the senate and the council--it cannot be said that I blindly rushed upon danger and ruin, if these await us, or weakly blundered upon a wider renown, if that, as I doubt not, is to be the event of the impending contest. I would neither gain nor lose, but as the effect of a wise calculation and a careful choice of means. Withhold not now your confidence, which before you have never refused me. Believe that now, as ever before, I discern with a clear eye the path which is to conduct us to a yet higher pitch of glory. I have long antic.i.p.ated the emergency that has arisen. I was not so ignorant of the history and character of the Roman people, as to suppose that they would suffer an empire like this, founded and governed by a woman, to divide long with them the homage of the world. With the death of the ign.o.ble son of Valerian, I believed would close our undisputed reign over most of these eastern provinces. Had Claudius lived, good as he was, he was too Roman in his mould not to have done what Aurelian now attempts. I prepared then for the crisis which has come not till now. I am ready now. My armies are in complete discipline; the city itself so fortified with every art and muniment of war as safely to defy any power that any nation may array before its walls. But were this not so; did the emba.s.sy of Aurelian take us by surprise and unprepared; should a people that respects itself, and would win or keep the good opinion of mankind, tamely submit to requisitions like these? Are we to dismember our country at the behest of a stranger, of a foreigner, and a Roman? Do you feel that without a struggle first for freedom and independence, you could sink down into a mean tributary of all-ingulfing Rome, and lose the name of Palmyrene? I see by the most expressive of all language, that you would rather die. Happy are you, my friends, that this is not your case; you are ready for the enemy; you shall not lose your name or your renown; and you shall not die. I and my brave soldiers will at a distance breast the coming storm; your ears shall not so much as hear its thunder; and at the worst, by the sacrifice of our lives, your and your country's life shall be preserved.

'I am advised to avert this evil by negotiation, by delay. Does any one believe that delay on our part will change the time-engendered character of Rome? If I cease to oppose, will Rome cease to be ambitious? Will fair words turn aside the fierce spirit of Aurelian from his settled purpose? Will he--so truly painted by the Roman Piso--who looks to build an undying name, by bringing back the empire to the bounds that compa.s.sed it under the great Antonines, let slip the glory for a few cities now in hand, and others promised? or for the purple robe humbly pulled from our young Caesars' shoulders? Believe it not. The storm that threatens might be so warded off perhaps for a day--a month--a year--a reign--but after that it would come, and, in all reasonable calculation, with tenfold fury. I would rather meet the danger at its first menace, and thereby keep our good name,--which otherwise should we not sully or lose?--and find it less too than a few years more would make it.

'I am charged with pride and ambition. The charge is true, and I glory in its truth. Who ever achieved any thing great in letters, arts, or arms, who was not ambitious? Caesar was not more ambitious than Cicero. It was but in another way. All greatness is born of ambition. Let the ambition be a n.o.ble one, and who shall blame it? I confess I did once aspire to be Queen not only of Palmyra, but of the East. That I am. I now aspire to remain so. Is it not an honorable ambition? Does it not become a descendant of the Ptolemys and of Cleopatra? I am applauded by you all for what I have already done. You would not it should have been less. But why pause here? Is so much ambition praiseworthy, and more criminal? Is it fixed in nature that the limits of this empire should be Egypt on the one hand, the h.e.l.lespont and the Euxine on the other? Were not Suez and Armenia more natural limits? Or hath empire no natural limit, but is broad as the genius that can devise, and the power that can win? Rome has the West. Let Palmyra possess the East Not that nature prescribes this and no more. The G.o.ds prospering, and I swear not that the Mediterranean shall hem me in upon the West, or Persia on the East. Longinus is right--I would that the world were mine. I feel within the will and the power to bless it, were it so.

'Are not my people happy? I look upon the past and the present, upon my nearer and remoter subjects, and ask nor fear the answer--whom have I wronged? what province have I oppressed? what city pillaged? what region drained with taxes? whose life have I unjustly taken, or estates coveted or robbed? whose honor have I wantonly a.s.sailed? whose rights, though of the weakest and poorest, have I trenched upon? I dwell where I would ever dwell, in the hearts of my people. It is writ in your faces, that I reign not more over you than within you. The foundation of my throne is not more power than love. Suppose now, my ambition add another province to our realm? Is it an evil? The kingdoms already bound to us by the joint acts of ourself and the late royal Odenatus, we found discordant and at war. They are now united and at peace. One harmonious whole has grown out of hostile and sundered parts. At my hands they receive a common justice and equal benefits. The channels of their commerce have I opened, and dug them deep and sure. Prosperity and plenty are in all their borders. The streets of our capital bear testimony to the distant and various industry which here seeks its market. This is no vain boasting--receive it not so, good friends: it is but truth. He who traduces himself, sins with him who traduces another. He who is unjust to himself, or less than just, breaks a law as well as he who hurts his neighbor. I tell you what I am and what I have done, that your trust for the future may not rest upon ignorant grounds. If I am more than just to myself, rebuke me. If I have overstepped the modesty that became me, I am open to your censure, and will bear it. But I have spoken, that you may know your Queen--not only by her acts, but by her admitted principles. I tell you then that I am ambitious--that I crave dominion, and while I live will reign. Sprung from a line of kings, a throne is my natural seat. I love it. But I strive too--you can bear me witness that I do--that it shall be, while I sit upon it, an honored, unpolluted seat. If I can, I will hang a yet brighter glory round it.

'And as to pride--what if my woman's nature, that nature the G.o.ds implanted and I have received from royal ancestors, loves the pomp and show of power? What if the pride which dwells in all high natures gratifies itself in me by planting its feet upon an Indian princess, as its only fitting footstool, who'--Suddenly at this point of her discourse the Queen broke off, and advancing from where she stood--she had risen from her seat in the ardor of her address--greeted with native courtesy and grace the Roman amba.s.sadors, who, in company with others of their train, we now saw to enter the apartments.

The company, upon this, again resolved itself into many separate groups, and returned to such private topics as each one liked, Zen.o.bia devoting herself to Varro and Petronius.

By and by, at the striking up of music, we moved to another apartment, the banqueting hall--the same Egyptian room in which I had before partaken the hospitalities of the Eastern Queen, where tables, set out with the most lavish magnificence, and bending beneath the most tempting burdens, awaited our approach. A flood of light was poured from the ceiling, and reflected back again from the jewelled wine cups and embossed gold of Demetrius.

But I cannot pretend to describe this sumptuous feast. I will only say, that the Queen, seated between the Roman amba.s.sadors, gave the evening to them. And what with the frequent cups in which she pledged them, and the fascinating charms of her beauty and her conversation, I fear there was but little of the Roman in them when they rose to depart. In this more peaceful way has Zen.o.bia won provinces and cities, as well as at the head of her armies. Farewell.

Letter XI.

From my late letters to Portia, and which without doubt you have before this read, you have learned with certainty, what I am sure the eye of Lucilia must before have clearly discerned, my love of the Princess Julia. I have there related all that it can import my friends to know. The greatest event of my life--the issues of which, whether they are to crown me with a felicity the G.o.ds might envy, or plunge me in afflictions divine compa.s.sions could not a.s.suage--I have there described with that careful concern for your fullest information, touching all that befalls me, by which you will bear me testimony I have been actuated during my residence in this Eastern capital.

You will not be surprised to learn that my pa.s.sion is opposed by the Queen. It was in the same apartment of the palace where I first saw this wonderful woman, that at a late interview with her, at her command, I was enjoined to think no more of an alliance with her house.

I was, as you may easily imagine, not a little disturbed in antic.i.p.ation of an interview with such a person, on such an occasion. Fausta a.s.sured me that I might rely upon the Queen's generosity, and could look to receive only the most courteous reception, whatever her decision might be on my suit. 'I fear greatly for your success,' said she, 'but pray the G.o.ds both for your and the Princess' sake my fears may not come true. Julia lives in her affections--she cannot like me become part of the world abroad, and doubly live in its various action. She loves Zen.o.bia indeed with the truest affection, but she has given her heart to you, Lucius, and disappointment here would feed upon her very life. She ought not to be denied. She cannot bear it. Yet Zen.o.bia, devoured by ambition, and holding so little sympathy with human hearts in their mutual loves--all the world to them--may deny her, nor ever half conceive the misery she will inflict upon a being she loves and even reveres. Press your cause, Lucius, with a manly boldness. The G.o.ds succeed you.'

The Queen received me graciously, but with a fixed and almost severe countenance. She expressed herself obliged to me for the early knowledge of what otherwise she had not so much as suspected. 'Living myself,' said she 'far above any dependence upon love for my happiness, I am not p.r.o.ne to see the affection in others. The love which fastens upon objects because they are worthy, I can understand and honor. But that mad and blind pa.s.sion, which loves only because it will love, which can render no reason for its existence but a hot and capricious fancy, I have had no experience of in my own heart, and where I see it I have no feeling for it but one of disapprobation or contempt. If it be but the beauty of Julia which has bewitched thy fancy, Roman, amuse thyself with a brief tour of pleasure, either to Antioch or Alexandria, and other objects will greet thee, and soon drive her from thy thoughts.'

I a.s.sured her that my regard was not of this kind; that indeed her transcendent beauty had first won me, but that other qualities retained me; that the bond which held me was as much friends.h.i.+p as love, and I might say as much reverence as friends.h.i.+p.

'The greater the pity, Roman,' rejoined the Queen in a voice somewhat stern, but yet melancholy, 'the greater the pity. In truth, I had hoped thine was but the love of the painted image, and might without pain be transferred to another, painted but as well. Yet, had I reflected upon the sentiments I have heard from thee, I might have judged thee n.o.bler. But, Piso, this must not be. Were I to look only to myself and Julia, I might well be pleased with a tie that bound us to one whom I have so weighty reasons to respect and honor. But to do this I have no right. I am not my own, but the State's. Julia is no daughter of mine, but the property of Palmyra. Marriage is one of the chief bonds of nations, as of families. Were it not a crime in me, with selfish regard to my own or my daughter's pleasure, to bestow her upon a private citizen of whatever worth, when, espousing her to some foreign prince, a province or a kingdom may be won or saved?'

'But,' I ventured to remark, 'are the hearts of princes and princesses to be bartered away for power or territory? are the affections to be bought and sold? Is the question of happiness to be no question in their case?'

'By no means the princ.i.p.al one. It is not necessarily a sacrifice, but if necessary the sacrifice must be made. The world envies the lot of those who sit upon thrones. But the seat is not without its thorns. It seems all summer with them. But upon whom burst more storms, or charged with redder fury? They seem to the unreflecting mind to be the only independent--while they are the slaves of all. The prosperous citizen may link himself and his children when and with whom he likes, and none may gainsay him. He has but to look to himself and his merest whim. The royal family must go and ask his leave. My children are more his than mine. And if it be his pleasure and preference that my daughters ally themselves to an Indian or a Roman prince, his will is done, not mine--his is the gain, mine the loss. And were it just that, when by joining hands though not hearts two nations could be knit together in amity, the royal house should refuse the sacrifice? Roman, I live for Palmyra. I have asked of the G.o.ds my children, not for my own pleasure, but for Palmyra's sake. I should give the lie to my whole life, to every sentiment I have harbored since that day I gave myself to the royal Odenatus, were I now to bestow upon a private citizen her, through whom we have so long looked to ally ourselves by a new and stronger bond to some neighboring kingdom. Julia, Roman--you have seen her, you know her, you can appreciate her more than human qualities--Julia is the destined bride of Hormisdas. By her, on Sapor's death, do we hope to bind together by chains never to be afterward sundered, Persia and Palmyra, who, then leagued by interest and affection, may as one kingdom stand up with the more hope against the overwhelming force of Rome. Were I justified to forego this advantage for any private reason? Can you doubt, were I not constrained to act otherwise, whether I should prefer some n.o.bleman of Palmyra, or thee, that so I might ever dwell within the charmed influence of one, from whom to part will be like the pang of death?'

'But the princess,'--I again urged.

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