Homo Sum — Complete by Georg Ebers
CHAPTER XVI.
"She will attract the attention of Damianus or Salathiel or one of theothers up there," thought Paulus as he heard Sirona's call once more,and, following her voice, he went hastily and excitedly down themountainside.
"We shall have peace for to-day at any rate from that audacious fellow,"muttered he to himself, "and perhaps to-morrow too, for his blue bruiseswill be a greeting from me. But how difficult it is to forget what wehave once known! The grip, with which I flung him, I learned--how longago?--from the chief-gymnast at Delphi. My marrow is not yet quite driedup, and that I will prove to the boy with these fists, if he comes backwith three or four of the same mettle."
But Paulus had not long to indulge in such wild thoughts, for on theway to the cave he met Sirona. "Where is Polykarp?" she called out fromafar.
"I have sent him home," he answered. "And he obeyed you?" she askedagain.
"I gave him striking reasons for doing so," he replied quickly.
"But he will return?"
"He has learned enough up here for to-day. We have now to think of yourjourney to Alexandria."
"But it seems to me," replied Sirona, blushing, "that I am safely hiddenin your cave, and just now you yourself said--"
"I warned you against the dangers of the expedition," interruptedPaulus. "But since that it has occurred to me that I know of a shelter,and of a safe protector for you. There, we are at home again. Now gointo the cave, for very probably some one may have heard you calling,and if other anchorites were to discover you here, they would compel meto take you back to your husband."
"I will go directly," sighed Sirona, "but first explain to me--forI heard all that you said to each other--" and she colored, "how ithappened that Phoebicius took Hermas' sheepskin for yours, and why youlet him beat you without giving any explanation."
"Because my back is even broader than that great fellow's," replied theAlexandrian quickly. "I will tell you all about it in some quiet hour,perhaps on our journey to Klysma. Now go into the cave, or you may spoileverything. I know too what you lack most since you heard the fair wordsof the senator's son."
"Well--what?" asked Sirona.
"A mirror!" laughed Paulus.
"How much you are mistaken!" said Sirona; and she thought to herself,"The woman that Polykarp looks at as he does at me, does not need amirror."
An old Jewish merchant lived in the fishing-town on the westerndeclivity of the mountain; he shipped the charcoal for Egypt, which wasmade in the valleys of the peninsula by burning the sajal acacia, and hehad formerly supplied fuel for the drying-room of the papyrus-factory ofPaulus' father. He now had a business connection with his brother, andPaulus himself had had dealings with him. He was prudent and wealthy,and whenever he met the anchorite, he blamed him for his flight fromthe world, and implored him to put his hospitality to the test, and tocommand his resources and means as if they were his own.
This man was now to find a boat, and to provide the means of flight forSirona. The longer Paulus thought it over, the more indispensable itseemed to him that he should himself accompany the Gaulish lady toAlexandria, and in his own person find her a safe shelter. He knew thathe was free to dispose of his brother's enormous fortune-half of whichin fact was his--as though it were all his own, and he began to rejoicein his possessions for the first time for many years. Soon he wasoccupied in thinking of the furnishing of the house, which he intendedto assign to the fair Sirona. At first he thought of a simple citizen'sdwelling, but by degrees he began to picture the house intended forher as fitted with shining gold, white and colored marble, many-coloredSyrian carpets, nay even with vain works of the heathen, with statues,and a luxurious bath. In increasing unrest he wandered from rock torock, and many times as he went up and down he paused in front of thecave where Sirona was. Once he saw her light robe, and its conspicuousgleam led him to the reflection, that it would be imprudent to conducther to the humble fishing-village in that dress. If he meant to concealher traces from the search of Phoebicius and Polykarp, he must firstprovide her with a simple dress, and a veil that should hide her shininghair and fair face, which even in the capital could find no match.
The Amalekite, from whom he had twice bought some goat's-milk for her,lived in a but which Paulus could easily reach. He still possessed a fewdrachmas, and with these he could purchase what he needed from the wifeand daughter of the goatherd. Although the sky was now covered with mistand a hot sweltering south-wind had risen, he prepared to start at once.The sun was no longer visible though its scorching heat could be felt,but Paulus paid no heed to this sign of an approaching storm.
Hastily, and with so little attention that he confused one object withanother in the little store-cellar, he laid some bread, a knife, andsome dates in front of the entrance to the cave, called out to his guestthat he should soon return, and hurried at a rapid pace up the mountain.
Sirona answered him with a gentle word of farewell, and did not evenlook round after him, for she was glad to be alone, and so soon as thesound of his step had died away she gave herself up once more to theoverwhelming torrent of new and deep feelings which had flooded her soulever since she had heard Polykarp's ardent hymn of love.
Paulus, in the last few hours, was Menander again, but the lonely womanin the cavern--the cause of this transformation--the wife of Phoebicius,had undergone an even greater change than he. She was still Sirona, andyet not Sirona.
When the anchorite had commanded her to retire into the cave she hadobeyed him willingly, nay, she would have withdrawn even without hisdesire, and have sought for solitude; for she felt that somethingmighty, hitherto unknown to her, and incomprehensible even to herself,was passing in her soul, and that a nameless but potent somethinghad grown up in her heart, had struggled free, and had found lifeand motion; a something that was strange, and yet precious to her,frightening, and yet sweet, a pain, and yet unspeakably delightful. Anemotion such as she had never before known had mastered her, and shefelt, since hearing Polykarp's speech, as if a new and purer blood wasflowing rapidly through her veins. Every nerve quivered like the leavesof the poplars in her former home when the wind blows down to meet theRhone, and she found it difficult to follow what Paulus said, and stillmore so to find the right answer to his questions.
As soon as she was alone she sat down on her bed, rested her elbows onher knees, and her head in her hand, and the growing and surging floodof her passion broke out in an abundant stream of warm tears.
She had never wept so before; no anguish, no bitterness was infused intothe sweet refreshing dew of those tears. Fair flowers of never dreamedof splendor and beauty blossomed in the heart of the weeping woman, andwhen at length her tears ceased, there was a great silence, but also agreat glory within her and around her. She was like a man who has grownup in an under-ground-room, where no light of day can ever shine, andwho at last is allowed to look at the blue heavens, at the splendor ofthe sun, at the myriad flowers and leaves in the green woods, and on themeadows.
She was wretched, and yet a happy woman.
"That is love!" were the words that her heart sang in triumph, and asher memory looked back on the admirers who had approached her in Arelaswhen she was still little more than a child, and afterwards in Rome,with tender words and looks, they all appeared like phantom formscarrying feeble tapers, whose light paled pitifully, for Polykarp hadnow come on the scene, bearing the very sun itself in his hands.
"They--and he," she murmured to herself, and she beheld as it were abalance, and on one of the scales lay the homage which in her vain fancyshe had so coveted. It was of no more weight than chaff, and its wholemass was like a heap of straw, which flew up as soon as Polykarp laidhis love--a hundredweight of pure gold, in the other scale.
"And if all the nations and kings of the earth brought their treasurestogether," thought she, "and laid them at my feet, they could not makeme as rich as he has made me, and if all the stars were fused intoone, the vast globe of light which they would form could not shine so
Then she thought over each of her former meetings with Polykarp, andremembered that he had never spoken to her of love. What must it nothave cost him to control himself thus; and a great triumphant joy filledher heart at the thought that she was pure, and not unworthy of him, andan unutterable sense of gratitude rose up in her soul. The love she borethis man seemed to take wings, and it spread itself over the common lifeand aspect of the world, and rose to a spirit of devotion. With a deepsigh she raised her eyes and hands to heaven, and in her longing toprove her love to every living being, nay to every created thing, herspirit sought the mighty and beneficent Power to whom she owed suchexalted happiness.
In her youth her father had kept her very strictly, but still hehad allowed her to go through the streets of the town with her youngcompanions, wreathed with flowers, and all dressed in their best, in theprocession of maidens at the feast of Venus of Arelas, to whom all thewomen of her native town were wont to turn with prayers and sacrificeswhen their hearts were touched by love.
Now she tried to pray to Venus, but again and again the wanton jests ofthe men who were used to accompany the maidens came into her mind,and memories of how she herself had eagerly listened for the only toofrequent cries of admiration, and had enticed the silent with a glance,or thanked the more clamorous with a smile. To-day certainly she hadno mind for such sport, and she recollected the stern words which hadfallen from Dorothea's lips on the worship of Venus, when she had oncetold her how well the natives of Arelas knew how to keep their feasts.
And Polykarp, whose heart was nevertheless so full of love, he no doubtthought like his mother, and she pictured him as she had frequently seenhim following his parents by the side of his sister Marthana--often handin hand with her--as they went to church. The senator's son hadalways had a kindly glance for her, excepting when he was one of thisprocession to the temple of the God of whom they said that He was loveitself, and whose votaries indeed were not poor in love; for in Petrus'house, if anywhere, all hearts were united by a tender affection. Itthen occurred to her that Paulus had just now advised her to turn tothe crucified God of the Christians, who was full of an equal and divinelove to all men. To him Polykarp also prayed--was praying perhaps thisvery hour; and if she now did the same her prayers would ascend togetherwith his, and so she might be in some sort one with that beloved friend,from whom everything else conspired to part her.
She knelt down and folded her hands, as she had so often seen Christiansdo, and she reflected on the torments that the poor Man, who hung withpierced hands on the cross, had so meekly endured, though He sufferedinnocently; she felt the deepest pity for Him, and softly said toherself, as she raised her eyes to the low roof of her cave-dwelling:
"Thou poor good Son of God, Thou knowest what it is when all men condemnus unjustly, and surely, Thou canst understand when I say to Thee howsore my poor heart is! And they say too, that of all hearts Thine is themost loving, and so thou wilt know how it is that, in spite of all mymisery, it still seems to me that I am a happy woman. The very breathof a God must be rapture, and that Thou too must have learned when theytortured and mocked Thee, for Thou halt suffered out of love. Theysay, that Thou wast wholly pure and perfectly sinless. Now I--I havecommitted many follies, but not a sin--a real sin--no, indeed, I havenot; and Thou must know it, for Thou art a God, and knowest the past,and canst read hearts. And, indeed, I also would fain remain innocent,and yet how can that be when I cannot help being devoted to Polykarp,and yet I am another man's wife. But am I indeed the true and lawfulwife of that horrible wretch who sold me to another? He is as farfrom my heart--as far as if I had never seen him with these eyes. Andyet--believe me--I wish him no ill, and I will be quite content, if onlyI need never go back to him.
"When I was a child, I was afraid of frogs; my brothers and sisters knewit, and once my brother Licinius laid a large one, that he had caught,on my bare neck. I started, and shuddered, and screamed out loud, for itwas so hideously cold and damp--I cannot express it. And that is exactlyhow I have always felt since those days in Rome whenever Phoebiciustouched me, and yet I dared not scream when he did.
"But Polykarp! oh! would that he were here, and might only grasp myhand. He said I was his own, and yet I have never encouraged him. Butnow! if a danger threatened him or a sorrow, and if by any means I couldsave him from it, indeed--indeed--though I never could bear pain well,and am afraid of death, I would let them nail me to a cross for him, asThou wast crucified for us all.
"But then he must know that I had died for him, and if he looked into mydying eyes with his strange, deep gaze, I would tell him that it is tohim that I owe a love so great that it is a thing altogether differentand higher than any love I have ever before seen. And a feeling that isso far above all measure of what ordinary mortals experience, it seemsto me, must be divine. Can such love be wrong? I know not; but Thouknowest, and Thou, whom they name the Good Shepherd, lead Thou us--eachapart from the other, if it be best so for him--but yet, if it bepossible, unite us once more, if it be only for one single hour. If onlyhe could know that I am not wicked, and that poor Sirona would willinglybelong to him, and to no other, then I would be ready to die. O Thougood, kind Shepherd, take me too into Thy flock, and guide me."
Thus prayed Sirona, and before her fancy there floated the image of alovely and loving youthful form; she had seen the original in the modelfor Polykarp's noble work, and she had not forgotten the exquisitedetails of the face. It seemed to her as well known and familiar as ifshe had known--what in fact she could not even guess--that she herselfhad had some share in the success of the work.
The love which unites two hearts is like the ocean of Homer whichencircles both halves of the earth. It flows and rolls on. Where shallwe seek its source--here or there--who can tell?
It was Dame Dorothea who in her motherly pride had led the Gaulish ladyinto her son's workshop. Sirona thought of her and her husband and herhouse, where over the door a motto was carved in the stone which she hadseen every morning from her sleeping-room. She could not read Greek, butPolykarp's sister, Marthana, had more than once told her what itmeant. "Commit thy way to the Lord, and put thy trust in Him," ran theinscription, and she repeated it to herself again and again, and thendrew fancy-pictures of the future in smiling day-dreams, which bydegrees assumed sharper outlines and brighter colors.
She saw herself united to Polykarp, and as the daughter of Petrus andDorothea, at home in the senator's house; she had a right now to thechildren who loved her, and who were so dear to her; she helped thedeaconess in all her labors, and won praise, and looks of approval. Shehad learned to use her hands in her father's house and now she couldshow what she could do; Polykarp even gazed at her with surprise andadmiration, and said that she was as clever as she was beautiful,and promised to become a second Dorothea. She went with him into hisworkshop, and there arranged all the things that lay about in confusion,and dusted it, while he followed her every movement with his gaze, andat last stood before her, his arms wide--wide open to clasp her.
She started, and pressed her hands over her eyes, and flung herselfloving and beloved on his breast, and would have thrown her arms roundhis neck, while her hot tears flowed--but the sweet vision was suddenlyshattered, for a swift flash of light pierced the gloom of the cavern,and immediately after she heard the heavy roll of the thunder-clap,dulled by the rocky walls of her dwelling.
Completely recalled to actuality she listened for a moment, and thenstepped to the entrance of the cave. It was already dusk, and heavyrain-drops were falling from the dark clouds which seemed to shroud themountain peaks in a vast veil of black crape. Paulus was nowhere to beseen, but there stood the food he had prepared for her. She had eatennothing since her breakfast, and she now tried to drink the milk, but ithad curdled and was not fit to use; a small bit of bread and a few datesquite satisfied her.
As the lightning and thunder began to fo
Crushed and trembling she drew back into the inmost depth of her rockychamber, starting at each flash that illumined the darkness.
At length they occurred at longer intervals, the thunder lost itsappalling fury, and as the wind drove the storm farther and farther tothe southwards, at last it wholly died away.