The Unwilling Vestal Part 22

She remained crumpled, she collapsed, she slid off her chair to the floor of the box. She lay in a horrid heap unmistakable in its limpness.

The excitement had been too much for Meffia. She was stone dead.

BOOK III--THE REBELLION OF DESPERATION

CHAPTER XV - REHABILITATION

THE death of a Vestal, except from old age, was always regarded by the Roman populace as a sign of the G.o.ds' disfavor. The death of a young Vestal, sudden, unexpected and unexplained, could not but cause great uneasiness throughout all cla.s.ses of the population.

Moreover, gladiatorial exhibitions were part of the Roman public wors.h.i.+p, which largely proceeded on the naive a.s.sumption that the G.o.ds liked just about what men liked and that, the best way to please the G.o.ds and win their favor was to delight them with such spectacles as men enjoyed, acrobatic exhibitions, dramas, beast-fights, fights of beasts with men or of men with men, chariot-races and similar exciting displays, and so put the G.o.ds in a good humor. This underlying theory of diverting spectacles as a species of prayer and as the most effective kind of prayer was not so much definitely expressed by the Romans, as tacitly and unconsciously a.s.sumed. It was, nevertheless, entirely real and all Romans felt every public show as an act of public wors.h.i.+p, as a hallowed function.

Most Roman rites were held to be entirely vitiated if a death took place among the wors.h.i.+ppers during the course of the ceremony. To all solemnities at which only a few persons were present this applied without qualification and positively. Naturally a death among the crowd about a temple was held of much less import.

Still less could anyone regard a death amid the vast throng in the Colosseum or the Circus Maximus. So that Meffia's sudden end was not necessarily held a certain indication of the wrath of the G.o.ds. But, as the death of one of the most important functionaries present at the spectacle, it caused much concern. The dismay of the people the pontiffs tried to alleviate by all the means in their power, by consultation of the augurs, soothsayers and professional prophets, and by official consultation of the Sibylline Books. The general anxiety was somewhat allayed by their placards and proclamations, announcing that Meffia's death was wholly due to her personal weakness and was not to be regarded as a portent, in particular that it in no way indicated the wrath of the G.o.ds or their rejection of the pet.i.tion for public safety embodied in the spectacles celebrating the triumph of Aurelius.

The Temple and the Atrium of Vesta made up an inst.i.tution in which death was entirely disregarded. As no seriously ill Vestal was ever allowed to remain within the limits of the Atrium, but, as soon as alarming symptoms appeared, was removed from the Atrium and put in charge of relations or friends, so also the body of a dead Vestal was always turned over to the care of her family or connections. Though the Vestals, alone among Romans, possessed the privilege of being buried inside the walls of Rome, though their funerals were magnificent public processions, partic.i.p.ated in by all the functionaries of the state and lavishly provided at the public expense, yet the death itself was held to be a concern of the family of the dead Vestal, not of her surviving colleagues. The Vestals might mourn but the Atrium was never in mourning. Its routine went on as if nothing had happened; no sign of grief was displayed or even permitted; visitors were received as usual.

Among the first visitors to the Atrium on the morning after Almo's fight and Meffia's death was, naturally, Flexinna.

At the first word Brinnaria cut her short.

"I don't want to hear his name," she declared. "I'm done with him forever. I don't love him any longer; I don't care for him, even; I hate him. It does not concern me whether he recovers or not. I'd rather he wouldn't recover. The best thing for both of us would be for him to die anyhow. I wish he were dead; I wish one of those heavy men had killed him."

"B-B-Brinnaria!" Flexinna remonstrated, "you t-t-talk like a raving maniac! You look like a F-F-Fury!"

"I'm furious enough!" Brinnaria snarled, "and I've plenty of good cause for being angry. Was ever woman on earth put in a position so invidious, so embarra.s.sing? Everybody knew of my rescue of the retiarius, thousands had seen me rescue him. Everybody knew of my involvement with Almo before I was taken for a Vestal, of our love for each other, of my expressed intention to marry him at the end of my service. Everybody recognized Almo.

"And there I was with the one man on earth in the jaws of death before my eyes and I with the power to save him if I chose and a hundred thousand people watching me to see what I would do. And because I had once before rescued a man in that same situation everybody expected me to do something unusual and spectacular to save Almo.

"If it had been any other man it would have been the most natural thing in the world for me to give the signal for mercy and n.o.body would have thought anything of it. But, because the man before me was the man I had expressed my intention of marrying at the end of my service, therefore, if I had tried to save him, that would be taken as a confession of my being actuated by the sort of interest which no Vestal has a right to feel for any man.

"A delightful situation to be placed in!

"And he must needs go out of his way to put me in that position! When all he had to do was to live the normal life of a Roman gentleman and all things would in time come right for both of us, he must needs strain the powers of human ingenuity, compel the forces of time and s.p.a.ce, of wind and wave to conspire to produce that situation and make me suffer those unnecessary agonies!

"Furious!

"Of course I'm furious.

"Never name him to me!"

When Lutorius Rusco, the new Pontifex of Vesta, called on her she was less explosive, but still fuming.

She received him in the large room at the east end of the peristyle of the Atrium, a sort of parlor which had on either side of it three very small rooms, the six, used as private offices by the six Vestals.

There each had her writing desk, and the cabinets in which she kept her important papers, letters and such possessions.

After they had exchanged greetings Lutorius motioned towards Brinnaria's little sanctum. Brinnaria bridled.

"I've nothing to say that we cannot say out here," she advertised, "and I do not want to hear anything that cannot be said out here."

Lutorius was tactful and had his way. When they were alone, he said:

"You were magnificent! You behaved splendidly. You could not have done better. We are all proud of you, from the Emperor down to the lowest slumgullion, every single Roman of us. You are certainly the most popular woman alive and your popularity is now of a sort to last as long as you live, complete and unqualified. You were popular before, but with considerable reservations. The hierarchy liked you, but were not sure that they ought to approve a Vestal who had perpetrated such exploits as yours, particularly your trouncing poor old Faltonius. The n.o.bility admired you, but shook their heads over your stock-farming. The populace were enthusiastic about you, but, like the upper cla.s.ses, were uneasy because of your expressed intention to marry at the end of your service and to marry a specified man, who had been your boyish lover. All cla.s.ses acclaimed you as a woman, but nearly everybody was dubious about you as a Vestal.

"Now n.o.body has any hesitation about feeling that you are all a Vestal should be, a priestess whose prayers are certain to be heard and answered."

Brinnaria made a wry face.

"My prayers were not heard yesterday," she sighed. "Almo was not killed.

I was praying hard to have him dead and have it all over with and done with forever."

Lutorius turned on her a slow, benignant, indulgent smile.

"Daughter," he said, "you must remember that you are not the only Vestal. Four Vestals were praying that Almo be saved, each praying not only with her lips but with every fibre of her being. And your heart and soul were praying silently with them and against the fierce prayers of your lips."

"It is not so," she denied. "Every fibre of me was praying as my lips prayed. My prayers were genuine."

"I am sure you thought so," Lutorius agreed. "It was natural for you to feel that way. You were very angry. But your anger will wear off."

"My anger may," Brinnaria admitted, "but never my resentment and my disgust."

"Only time can prove whether your forecast is correct," the Pontiff soothed her, "but are you justified even in being resentful? Ought you not rather to be thankful that chance or fate or the direct intervention of the G.o.ds working through Almo gave you the precious opportunity to free yourself from the shadow of an imputation that lay upon you from your entrance into the order? Rome vaguely suspected you of too warm an interest in Almo. Much of Rome had seen and all Rome had heard of your theatrical rescue of a gladiator totally unknown to you. All Rome knew your impulsive nature. All Rome has now seen you perfectly controlled and outwardly calm with Almo on the verge of death before your eyes.

Everybody has watched you ignore him and show less interest in his fate than you once manifested towards a casual savage. Your outward observance of the conventions under such trying circ.u.mstances has abolished any qualms the people felt because of your many past unconventionalities. This puts you in a very strong position toward any possible accusation or trial. You know how earnestly you have talked to me of your dread of such contingencies. Ought you not, after thinking it over, to forget your anger against Almo and to feel positively grateful for the opportunity so to exalt ourself?"

"Perhaps I ought," Brinnaria mused. "The value to me of the results I had not thought of, but admit it now that you expound it. But I am not grateful. I suffered too much. I am still smarting with indignation.

"And, apart from any remains of anger, I ache with the humiliation of it all. Think of the infamy, of the degradation Almo has brought on himself!"

Lutorius pursed his lips.

"There is a certain social stigma upon any man who has joined a prize-fighting gang," he conceded, "but the obloquy resulting from having been a gladiator has greatly attenuated amid the loose manners of our day. Nothing that becomes fas.h.i.+onable remains disgraceful. The social disgrace of it has greatly lessened as the thing has become more usual, and freemen who have been gladiators are rather acclaimed and sought after than condemned and shunned. They win a sort of vogue, if successful fighters.

"The treatment of such persons has greatly changed in recent years. Even since I began to remember there has been an all but universal alteration in the general att.i.tude towards such cases--they have become too numerous for the old feelings to survive. Not only Roman citizens have entered gladiatorial schools, risen high in the profession, fought countless fights, served out their time as prize-fighters, and returned to their families, but n.o.blemen have done so, even senators. Vescularius is as much a senator as if he had not won seventy-eight bouts in three years."

"I know it," Brinnaria admitted, "and I have thought over all that. But I am old-fas.h.i.+oned in my feelings even if I have often been the reverse in my behavior. I am revolted at the thought of Almo as a professional cut-throat--I was insulted at the sight of him in the arena. I feel that by his abas.e.m.e.nt of himself he has obliterated my love for him. It is as if he had never existed. I shall not marry him, even if we both outlive my obligatory term of service. I shall never marry anybody. I shall die a Vestal."

"You feel that way now, of course," Lutorius agreed, "but you will get over it, though you do not think so now."

"I do not believe I shall ever get over it," Brinnaria declared. "So many things rankle in my thoughts, the small things even more than what is more important. I grind my teeth over the mere legal consequences of his having been a gladiator. He will forfeit half the properties he inherited and he can never hold any office, civil or military."

"All that," said Lutorius, "the Emperor will attend to in full. And your thinking of such trifles shows that you even yet care more for Almo than you admit to yourself.

"You must let me tell you about him. He is in the care of the best physicians in Rome. They a.s.sure me that he will recover, that his face will show but the merest trace of a scar, no disfigurement whatever, and that he will walk without the slightest limp. He is comfortable and convalescing nicely. I am going to bring you news of him daily, whether you think you want it or not, and you are going to listen to me because I tell you to."