Vergilius | Page 7

his hand.
"Now tell me, handsome son of Varro, have you found no pretty girl to
your liking? Know you not, boy, 'tis time you married?" He held the
hand of the young knight and spoke kindly, his cunning eyes aglow,
and smiled upon him, showing his teeth, set well apart.

"Such an one I have found, good sire. Under the great purple dome
there is none more beautiful, and with your favor and that of the gods I
hope to make her my wife."
"Ah, then, I know her?"
"It is Arria, sister of Appius."
"And daughter of my beloved prefect. You are ambitious, my good
youth."
The emperor stood a moment, looking downward thoughtfully. He felt
his retreating chin. His smooth-shaven face, broad from bone to bone
above the cheeks, quickly grew stern. His mind, which had the world
for its toy and which planned the building or the treading down of
empires, had turned its thought upon that little kingdom in the heart of
the boy. And he was thinking whether it should stand or fall.
"It may be impossible," said he, turning to the young man. "Say no
more to her until--until I have thought of it."
And Appius observed, as he went away with his friend: "You will be a
statesman, my dear Vergilius; you gave him just the right dose of
religion, flattery, and silver."
"I must succeed or I shall have no heart to live," said the other, soberly.
CHAPTER 4
That evening Vergilius went to feast with the young Herodian prince,
Antipater of Judea. The son of Herod was then a tall, swarthy, robust
young man, who had come to see life in Rome and to finish his
education. He would inherit the crown--so said they who knew
anything of Herodian politics; but he was a Jew, and deep in the red
intrigue of his father's house. So, therefore, he was regarded in Rome
with more curiosity than respect. Augustus himself had said that he
would rather be the swine of Herod than Herod's son, and he might
have added that he would rather be the swine of Antipater than his

father. But that was before Augustus had learned that even his own
household was unworthy of full confidence.
Antipater had brought many slaves to Rome, and some of the noblest
horses in the empire. He had hired a palace and built a lion-house,
where, before intimates, he was wont to display his courage and his
skill. It had a small arena and was in the midst of a great garden. There
he kept a lion from northern Africa, a tiger, and a black leopard from
the Himalayas. He was training for the Herodian prize at the Jewish
amphitheatre in Caesarea. These great, stealthy cats in his garden
typified the passions of his heart. If he had only fought these latter as
he fought the beasts he might have had a better place in history.
Antipater had conceived a great liking for the sister of Appius. Her
beauty had roused in him the great cats of passion now stalking their
prey. He had sworn to his intimates that no other man should marry her.
His gallantry was unwelcome, he knew that, and Appius had assured
him that a marriage was impossible; but the wild heart of the Idumean
held to its purpose. And now its hidden eyes were gazing, catlike, on
Vergilius, the cause of its difficulty. In Judea he would have known
how to act, but in Rome he pondered.
It had been a stormy day in the palace of Antipater. He had crucified a
slave for disobedience and run a lance through one of his best horses
for no reason. He came out of his bath a little before the hour of his
banquet, and two slaves, trembling with fear, followed him to his
chamber. They put his tunic on him, and his sandals, and wound the
fillets that held them in place. One of the slaves began brushing the
dark hair of his master while the other was rubbing a precious ointment
on his face and arms.
"Fool!" he shouted. "Have I not told you never to bear upon my head?"
He jumped to his feet, black eyes flashing under heavy brows, and,
seizing a lance, broke the slave's arm with a blow and drove him out of
the chamber. A few minutes later, in a robe of white silk and a yellow
girdle, he came into his banquet-hall with politeness, dovelike,
worshipful, and caressing.

"Noble son of Varro!" said he, smiling graciously, "it is a joy to see you.
And you, brave Gracus; and you, Aulus, child of Destiny; and you, my
learned Manius; and you, Carus, favored of the Muses: I do thank you
all for this honor."
It was