Part 23 (1/2)
He drew up his misshapen figure to its full height and beamed at the young girl with an expression of paternal benignness. He was delighted with himself, delighted with his own oratory. He was such a born mountebank that he could even act the part of kindness and benevolence, and he acted it at this moment so realistically that the ignorant, confiding girl was taken in by his tricks.
She saw the gracious smile and was too inexperienced, too devoted, to see the hideous leer that he was at pains to conceal.
”The choice will be difficult, gracious lord,” she said, feeling somewhat rea.s.sured, ”and will take some time to make.”
”Therefore will I trust to inspiration,” he rejoined blandly.
”The G.o.ds no doubt will speak when the time comes.”
”Aye! They will thunder forth their decree at midday to-morrow,” said Caligula, with well-a.s.sumed majesty.
”To-morrow, O my lord?”
”Thou hast said it. I have a fancy to make known my decree in this matter during the games at the Circus to-morrow. So put on thy richest gown, O Dea Flavia Augusta,” he added with a sneer, ”so as to appear pleasing in thy future husband's sight.”
”My gracious lord is pleased to jest,” she said, all her fears returning to her in a moment with an overwhelming rush that made her sick with horror.
”Jest!” he retorted with a snarl, showing his yellow teeth like a hyena on the prowl, ”nay! I never was so earnest in my life. Is not the future of my beloved ward of supreme importance to me?”
”Nay, then, good my lord,” she pleaded earnestly, her young voice trembling, her blue eyes fixed appealingly on the callous wretch, ”I do beg of thy mightiness to give me time ... to think ... to ...”
”I have done all the thinking,” he broke in roughly, ”thou hast but to obey.”
”Indeed, indeed,” she entreated, ”I have no wish to disobey ... but my gracious lord ... do I pray thee deign to consider ...”
”Silence, wench!” he shouted, with a violent oath, for what he deemed her resistance was exasperating his fury and reawakened all his former suspicions of her guilt. ”Cease thy senseless whining.... I, thine Emperor, have spoken. Let that suffice. Who art thou that I should parley with thee? To-morrow thou'lt go to the Circus. Dost hear? And until then remain on thy knees praying to the G.o.ds to pardon thy rebellion against Caesar.”
And with an air which he strove to render majestic he turned on his heel and prepared to go. But in a moment she was down on her knees, her hands clutching his robe. She would not let him go, not now, not yet, whilst she had not exhausted every prayer, every argument, that would soften his heart towards her.
”My gracious lord,” she pleaded, whilst her trembling voice was almost choked with sobs, ”for pity's sake do hear me! I am not rebellious, nor disobedient to thy will! I am only a humble maid who holds all her happiness from thee! My gracious lord thou art great, and thou art mighty, thou art kind and just. Have mercy on me, for my whole heart is br.i.m.m.i.n.g over with loyalty for thee! I am free, and am happy in my freedom; the men who fawn round me, coveting my fortune, fill me with disgust. I could not honour one of them, my lord! I could not give one of them my love. Thou who art so great, must know how I feel. I implore thee leave me my freedom, the most precious boon which I possess, and my lips will sing a paean of praise to thee for as long as I live.”
But Caligula was not the man whom a woman's entreaties would turn from his purpose, more especially when that purpose was his own self-interest. This wretch had no heart within him, no sensibility, not one single feeling of pity or of loyalty.
His instinct must have told him that Dea Flavia was loyal to the core, loyal to the Caesar and to his House, but so blinded was he by rage and humiliation and by the terror of a.s.sa.s.sination, that he saw in the earnest, simple pleadings of a young girl and devoted partisan nothing but the obstinate resistance of a would-be traitor.
The more did Dea plead, the more did he become convinced that already her choice of a husband was made, and that that husband was destined to wrench the sceptre of Caesar from him and to mount Caesar's throne over his murdered body. With a brutal gesture he pushed the young girl from him.
”Silence!” he shouted, as soon as choking rage enabled him to speak.
”Silence, I say! ere I strike thee into eternal dumbness. What I have said, I've said. Dost hear me? To-morrow, at the Circus, I will name thy husband, and then and there thou shalt accept him, whoever he may be. I have a reason for wis.h.i.+ng this--a reason of State far beyond the comprehension of a mere fool. To-morrow thou shalt accept the man of my choice as thy future lord. That is my will. Look to it, O daughter of Caesar, that thou dost obey. Caesar hath spoken.”
”Caesar hath spoken,” she pleaded, ”but my gracious lord will relent.”
”Dost know me, girl?” he retorted, as, bending down to her, he seized her wrists in his and brought his flushed face all distorted by fury, close to her own. ”Dost know me? For if so hast ever seen me relent once I have set my will? Look into my eyes now! Look, I say!” he shouted hoa.r.s.ely, giving her wrists and arms a brutal wrench. ”Do they look as if they meant to relent? Is there anything in my face to lead thee to hope that thou wouldst have thy treacherous way with me?”
He held her wrists so cruelly that she could have screamed with the pain, but she bit her lip to still the cry.
Daylight now was yielding to the oncoming storm. Dense shadows hung all round the room, making the objects in it seem weird and ghost-like in the gloom. Sudden gusts of wind swept angrily round, causing the withered leaves and dying flowers in the vases to murmur with unearthly sounds, as of the sighing of disembodied souls. Only through the aperture above a streak of greyish light struck full upon the Caesar, as, with glowing eyes and cruel grasp, he compelled her to look on him.
For a moment she closed her eyes after she had looked, for never before had she seen anything so hideous and so evil. His misshapen head looked unnaturally large as it seemed to loom out at her from out the gathering darkness, his hair stood up spa.r.s.e and harsh all round his forehead. His eyes were protruding and shot through with blood; his lips were dry and cracked, his cheeks of a dull crimson and heavy sweat was pouring down his face.
When she turned away from him in horror, he broke into that wild laugh of his which had in it the very sounds of h.e.l.l.
”Well!” he said with a leer, ”hast seen my face? Art still prepared to disobey?”