Volume I Part 30 (2/2)
although the writer's name was omitted.
She gazed at it for a moment, wondering from whom it could come; since she had no habitual correspondent, and the hand-writing, though beautiful, was strange to her. She opened it, and read, her wonder and agitation increasing with every line-
”You love Paullus Arvina,” thus it ran, ”and are loved by him. He is worthy all your affection. Are you worthy of him, I know not. I love him also, but alas! less happy, am not loved again, nor hope to be, nor indeed deserve it! They tell me you are beautiful; I have seen you, and yet I know not-they told me once that I too was beautiful, and yet I know not! I know this only, that I am desperate, and base, and miserable! Yet fear me not, nor mistake me. I love Paullus, yet would not have him mine, now; no!
not to be happy-as to be his would render me. Yet had it not been for you, I might have been virtuous, honourable, happy, _his_-for winning him from me, you won from me hope; and with hope virtue; and with virtue honour!
Ought I not then to hate you, Julia? Perchance I ought-to do so were at least Roman-and hating to avenge! Perchance, if I _hoped_, I should. But hoping nothing, I hate nothing, dread nothing, and wish nothing.-Yea! by the G.o.ds! I wish to know Paullus happy-yea! more, I wish, even at cost of my own misery, to make him happy. Shall I do so, by making him yours, Julia? I think so, for be sure-be sure, he loves you. Else had he yielded to my blandishments, to my pa.s.sion, to my beauty! for I am-by the G.o.ds! I am, though he sees it not, as beautiful as thou. And I am proud likewise-or was proud once-for misery has conquered pride in me; or what is weaker yet, and baser-love!”
”I think you will make him happy. You can if you will. Do so, by all the G.o.ds! I adjure you do so; and if you do not, tremble!-tremble, I say-for think, if I sacrifice myself to win bliss for him-think, girl, how gladly, how triumphantly, I would destroy a rival, who should fail to do that, for which alone I spare her.
”Spare her! nay, but much more; for I can save her-can and will.
”Strange things will come to pa.s.s ere long, and terrible; and to no one so terrible as to you.
”There is a man in Rome, so powerful, that the G.o.ds, only, if there be G.o.ds, can compare with him-so haughty in ambition, that stood he second in Olympus, he would risk all things to be first-so cruel, that the dug-drawn Hyrcanian tigress were pitiful compared to him-so reckless of all things divine or human, that, did his own mother stand between him and his vengeance, he would strike through her heart to gain it.
”This man hath Paullus made his foe-he hath crossed his path; he hath _foiled_ him!
”He never spared man in his wrath, or woman in his pa.s.sion.
”He hateth Paullus!
”He hath looked on Julia!
”Think, then, when l.u.s.t and hate spur such a man together, what will restrain him.
”Now mark me, and you shall yet be safe. All means will be essayed to win you, for he would torture Paul by making him his slave, ere he make you his victim.
”And Paul may waver. He hath wavered once. Chance only, and I, rescued him! I can do no more, for Rome must know me no longer! See, then, that thou hold him constant in the right-firm for his country! So may he defy secret spite, as he hath defied open violence.
”Now for thyself-beware of women! Go not forth alone ever, or without armed followers! Sleep not, but with a woman in thy chamber, and a watcher at thy door! Eat not, nor drink, any thing abroad; nor at home, save that which is prepared by known hands, and tasted by the slave who serves it!
”Be true to Paullus, and yourself, and you have a friend ever watchful. So fear not, nor despond!
”Fail me-and, failing truth and honour, failing to make Paullus happy, you _do_ fail me! Fail me, and nothing, in the world's history or fable, shall match the greatness of my vengeance-of your anguis.h.!.+
”Fail me! and yours shall be, for ages, the name that men shall quote, when they would tell of untold misery, of utter shame, and desolation, and despair.
”Farewell.”
The letter dropped from her hand; she sat aghast and speechless, terrified beyond measure, and yet unable to determine, or divine, even, to what its dark warnings and darker denunciations pointed.
Just at this instant, as between terror and amazement she was on the verge of fainting, a clanging step was heard without; the crimson draperies that covered the door, were put aside; and, clad in glittering armour, Paullus Arvina stood before her.
She started up, with a strange haggard smile flas.h.i.+ng across her pallid face, staggered a step or two to meet him, and sank in an agony of tears upon his bosom.
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