Volume Ii Part 15 (1/2)
basest slaves, demean themselves as these patricians! Base, carnal, b.l.o.o.d.y-minded beasts are they-and yet forsooth they boast themselves the masters of the world.”
”Alas! that it should be so, Feargus,” answered the other. ”But so it is, that they _are_ masters, and shall be masters yet awhile, but not long. I have heard, I have seen among the mist of our water-falls, the avalanches of our hills, the voices and the signs of Rome's coming ruin, but not yet.
Therefore it is that I counselled peace.”
”I know that thou art Taishatr, the great seer of our people,” replied the other with an expression of deep awe on his features-”Shall Rome indeed so peris.h.!.+”
”She shall, Feargus. Her sons shall forget the use of the blade, her daughters of the distaff-for heroes and warriors she shall bring forth pipers and fiddlers, pandars and posturers; for heroines and matrons, songstresses, dancing girls, and harlots. The beginning thou seest now, the end cometh not in ages.”
”And our people, Phadraig, our northern races”-
”Shall govern and despise them! our arms shall carry devastation into regions of which their Consuls never heard, and under Gaelic eagles; our _men_ shall wield thunder louder and deadlier, than the bolts of Roman G.o.dS. I have said, Feargus. It shall be, but not yet; nor shall our eyes behold it; but it shall soothe us yet, in these days of our country's desolation, to know how great she shall be hereafter, and these how less than little-the very name of Roman synonimous with slavery and degradation!”
There was a long pause, during which neither of the chieftains spoke, the one musing over the strange visions, which are phenomena by no means unusual to mountaineers, in all ages; the other dreaming of future glory to his race, and aroused by the predictions of the seer, to an ecstacy, as it were, of expectant triumph.
”Enough of this”-said the old man, at length. ”As I said but now, I doubt Eachin sorely.”
”If he prove false, I will stab him to the heart, with my own hand, though he be my father's brother's grandson, and the best warrior of our tribe; but no, no, Phadraig, the boy is young, and his blood is hot and fiery; and the charms of that witch might well move a colder spirit-but he is true as steel, and wise and wary for one so young. He may sun himself in her smiles, or revel on her lips, but trust me, Eachin of the iron hand, will never betray council.”
”Keep your eye on him, nevertheless, Feargus,” said the other, ”and, as you said but now, kill him at once, if you perceive him false.”
”Ha! what! n.o.ble Patricius?” cried Lentulus, coming up to them suddenly, and addressing the old chief by his latinized name-”what is this that thou arguest so sagely, in thy sonorous and male tongue.”
”The might and majesty of Rome,” answered the old man quietly, ”and our people's misery and degradation.”
”Nay! nay! chief, be not downhearted. Look upward now, after dark night comes brilliant morning,” said the Roman. ”Your people shall rise ere long, to power and glory and dominion.”
”So I told Feargus.”
”Ha! the brave Ferragus! and doth he not credit your wisdom's prophecy.”
”I put all faith in Rome's grat.i.tude, in Catiline's valor and justice.”
”Aye! when we once have put down this faction, we will do justice to our friends.”
”And we are of the number!”
”Surely, the twenty thousand horse, which you have promised us, are twenty thousand pledges of your friends.h.i.+p, as many claims on our favor.”
”See, here comes Eachin,” said the old man; ”and time wears onward, it is nigh midnight. We must away to our lodgings. Our train awaits us, and we but tarry for your envoy and the letters.”
”t.i.tus Volturcius! I will go fetch him hither. He hath our letters sealed and ready. He is but draining a last cup, with our brave Cethegus. I will go fetch him.” And, with the words, he turned away, gathering his toga in superb draperies about his stately person, and traversing the corridor with proud and measured strides, and as he went, muttered through his teeth-”The fool barbarians! As if we would give them anything but chains and scourges! The poor benighted idiots!”
”Ho, Eachin, where left you our fair hostess?” asked Feargus in Latin-”methinks you are smitten somewhat with her beauty!”
”She is very beautiful!” said the old chieftain gravely.
”Beautiful! Feargus! Phadraig! beautiful, did ye say?” and the youth gazed at them in wonder, ”That vile sensual, soulless harlot! she beautiful!
Then virtue must be base indeed, and honor shameful!” he cried, with n.o.ble indignation, in his own Gaelic tongue, his eyes flas.h.i.+ng, and his cheek burning crimson.
”Why, if you held her then so cheaply, have you so much affected her society?”