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Books: Hypatia

C >> Charles Kingsley >> Hypatia




Miriam clapped her hands.

'Then putting on his clothes, and taking his letters and
credentials, as was but reasonable, I passed myself off for the
messenger of the emperor, and so rode the rest of that journey at
the expense of the heathen; and I hereby return you the balance
saved.'

'Never mind the balance. Keep it, thou worthy son of Jacob. What
next?'

'When I came to Tarentum, I sailed in the galley which I had
chartered from certain sea-robbers. Valiant men they were,
nevertheless, and kept true faith with me. For when we had come
halfway, rowing with all our might, behold another galley coming in
our wake and about to pass us by, which I knew for an Alexandrian,
as did the captain also, who assured me that she had come from hence
to Brundusium with letters from Orestes.'

'Well?'

'It seemed to me both base to be passed, and more base to waste all
the expense wherewith you and our elders had charged themselves; so
I took counsel with the man of blood, offering him over and above
our bargain, two hundred gold pieces of my own, which please to pay
to my account with Rabbi Ezekiel, who lives by the watergate in
Pelusium. Then the pirates, taking counsel, agreed to run down the
enemy; for our galley was a sharp-beaked Liburnian, while theirs was
only a messenger trireme.'

'And you did it?'

'Else had I not been here. They were delivered into our hands, so
that we struck them full in mid-length, and they sank like Pharaoh
and his host.'

'So perish all the enemies of the nation!' cried Miriam. 'And now
it is impossible, you say, for fresh news to arrive for these ten
days?'

'Impossible, the captain assured me, owing to the rising of the
wind, and the signs of southerly storm.'

'Here, take this letter for the Chief Rabbi, and the blessing of a
mother in Israel. Thou Last played the man for thy people; and thou
shalt go to the grave full of years and honours, with men-servants
and maid-servants, gold and silver, children and children's
children, with thy foot on the necks of heathens, and the blessing
of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, to eat of the goose which is fattening
in the desert, and the Leviathan which lieth in the great sea, to be
meat for all true Israelites at the last day.'

And the Jew turned and went out, perhaps, in his simple fanaticism,
the happiest man in Egypt at that moment.

He passed out through the ante-chamber, leering at the slave-girls,
and scowling at Philammon; and the youth was ushered into the
presence of Miriam.

She sat, coiled up like a snake on a divan writing busily in a
tablet upon her knees while on the cushions beside her glittered
splendid jewels, which she had been fingering over as a child might
its toys. She did not look up for a few minutes; and Philammon
could not help, in spite of his impatience, looking round the little
room and contrasting its dirty splendour, and heavy odour of wine,
and food, and perfumes, with the sunny grace and cleanliness of
Greek houses. Against the wall stood presses and chests fretted
with fantastic Oriental carving; illuminated rolls of parchment lay
in heaps in a corner; a lamp of strange form hung from the ceiling,
and shed a dim and lurid light upon an object which chilled the
youth's blood for a moment--a bracket against the wall, on which, in
a plate of gold, engraven with mystic signs, stood the mummy of an
infant's head; one of those teraphim, from which, as Philammon knew,
the sorcerers of the East professed to evoke oracular responses.

At last she looked up, and spoke in a shrill, harsh voice.
'Well, my fair boy, and what do you want with the poor old
proscribed Jewess? Have you coveted yet any of the pretty things
which she has had the wit to make her slave-demons save from the
Christian robbers?'

Philammon's tale was soon told. The old woman listened, watching
him intently with her burning eye; and then answered slowly--

'Well, and what if you are a slave?'

'Am I one, then? Am I?'

'Of course you are. Arsenius spoke truth. I saw him buy you at
Ravenna, just fifteen years ago. I bought your sister at the same
time. She is two-and-twenty now. You were four years younger than
her, I should say.'

'Oh heavens! and you know my sister still! Is she Pelagia?'

'You were a pretty boy,' went on the hag, apparently not hearing
him. 'If I had thought you were going to grow up as beautiful and as
clever as you are, I would have bought you myself. The Goths were
just marching, and Arsenius gave only eighteen gold pieces for you
--or twenty--I am growing old, and forget everything, I think. But
there would have been the expense of your education, and your sister
cost me in training--oh what sums? Not that she was not worth the
money--no, no, the darling!'

'And you know where she is? Oh tell me--in the name of mercy tell
me!'

'Why, then?'

'Why, then? Have you not the heart of a human being in you? Is she
not my sister?'

'Well? You have done very well for fifteen years without your
sister--why can you not do as well now? You don't recollect her--
you don't love her.'

'Not love her? I would die for her--die for you if you will but
help me to see her!'

'You would, would you? And if I brought you to her, what then!
What if she were Pelagia herself, what then? She is happy enough
now, and rich enough. Could you make her happier or richer?'

'Can you ask? I must--I will--reclaim her from the infamy in which
I am sure she lives.'

'Ah ha, sir monk! I expected as much. I know, none knows better,
what those fine words mean. The burnt child dreads the fire; but
the burnt old woman quenches it, you will find. Now listen. I do
not say that you shall not see her--I do not say that Pelagia
herself is not the woman whom you seek--but--you are in my power.
Don't frown and pout. I can deliver you as a slave to Arsenius when
I choose. One word from me to Orestes, and you are in fetters as a
fugitive.'

'I will escape!' cried he fiercely.

'Escape me?'--She laughed, pointing to the teraph--'Me, who, if you
fled beyond Kaf, or dived to the depths of the ocean, could make
these dead lips confess where you were, and command demons to bear
you back to me upon their wings! Escape me! Better to obey me, and
see your sister.'

Philammon shuddered, and submitted. The spell of the woman's eye,
the terror of her words, which he half believed, and the agony of
longing, conquered him, and he gasped out--

'I will obey you--only--only--'

'Only you are not quite a man yet, but half a monk still, eh? I
must know that before I help you, my pretty boy. Are you a monk
still, or a man?'

'What do you mean?'

'Ah, ha, ha!' laughed she shrilly. 'And these Christian dogs don't
know what a man means? Are you a monk, then? leaving the man alone,
as above your understanding.'

'I?--I am a student of philosophy.'

'But no man?'

'I am a man, I suppose.'

'I don't; if you had been, you would have been making love like a
man to that heathen woman many a month ago.'

'I--to her?'

'Yes, I-to her!'Said Miriam, coarsely imitating his tone of shocked
humility. 'I, the poor penniless boy-scholar, to her, the great,
rich, wise, worshipped she-philosopher, who holds the sacred keys of
the inner shrine of the east wind--and just because I am a man, and
the handsomest man in Alexandria, and she a woman, and the vainest
woman in Alexandria; and therefore I am stronger than she, and can
twist her round my finger, and bring her to her knees at my feet
when I like, as soon I open my eyes, and discover that I am a man.
Eh, boy! Did she ever teach you that among her mathematics and
metaphysics, and gods and goddesses?'

Philammon stood blushing scarlet. The sweet poison had entered, and
every vein glowed with it for the first time in his life. Miriam
saw her advantage.

'There, there--don't be frightened at your new lesson. After all, I
liked you from the first moment I saw you, and asked the teraph
about you, and I got an answer--such an answer! You shall know it
some day. At all events, it set the poor old soft-hearted Jewess on
throwing away her money. Did you ever guess from whom your monthly
gold piece came?'

Philammon started, and Miriam burst into loud, shrill laughter.

'From Hypatia, I'll warrant! From the fair Greek woman, of course--
vain child that you are--never thinking of the poor old Jewess.'

'And did you? did you?' gasped Philammon.

'Have I to thank you, then, for that strange generosity?'

'Not to thank me, but to obey me; for mind, I can prove your debt to
me, every obol, and claim it if I choose. But don't fear; I won't
be
hard on you, just because you are in my power. I hate every one who
is not so. As soon as I have a hold on them, I begin to love them.
Old folks, like children, are fond of their own playthings.'

'And I am yours, then?' said Philammon fiercely.

'You are indeed, my beautiful boy,' answered she, looking up with so
insinuating a smile that he could not be angry. 'After all, I know
how to toss my balls gently--and for these forty years I have only
lived to make young folks happy; so you need not be afraid of the
poor soft-hearted old woman. Now--you saved Orestes's life
yesterday.'

'How did you find out that?'

'I? I know everything. I know what the swallows say when they pass
each other on the wing, and what the fishes think of in the summer
sea. You, too, will be able to guess some day, without the teraph's
help. But in the mean time you must enter Orestes's service. Why?-
What are you hesitating about? Do you not know that you are high in
his favour? He will make you secretary--raise you to be chamberlain
some day, if you know how to make good use of your fortune.'

Philammon stood in astonished silence; and at last--

'Servant to that man? What care I for him or his honours? Why do
you tantalise me thus? I have no wish on earth but to see my
sister!'

'You will be far more likely to see her if you belong to the court
of a great officer--perhaps more than an officer--than if you remain
a penniless monk. Not that I believe you. Your only wish on earth,
eh? Do you not care, then, ever to see the fair Hypatia again?'

'I? Why should I not see her? Am I not her pupil?'

'She will not have pupils much longer, my child. If you wish to
hear her wisdom--and much good may it do you--you must go for it
henceforth somewhat nearer to Orestes's palace than the lecture-room
is. Ah! you start. Have I found you an argument now? No--ask no
questions. I explain nothing to monks. But take these letters; to-
morrow morning at the third hour go to Orestes's palace, and ask for
his secretary, Ethan the Chaldee. Say boldly that you bring
important news of state; and then follow your star: it is a fairer
one than you fancy. Go! obey me, or you see no sister.'

Philammon felt himself trapped; but, after all, what might not this
strange woman do for him? It seemed, if not his only path, still
his nearest path to Pelagia; and in the meanwhile he was in the
hag's power, and he must submit to his fate; so he took the letters
and went out.

'And so you think that you are going to have her?' chuckled Miriam
to herself, when Philammon went out. 'To make a penitent of her,
eh?--a nun, or a she-hermit; to set her to appease your God by
crawling on all fours among the mummies for twenty years, with a
chain round her neck and a clog at her ankle, fancying herself all
the while the bride of the Nazarene? And you think that old Miriam
is going to give her up to you for that? No, no, sir monk! Better
she were dead! .... Follow your dainty bait!--follow it, as the
donkey does the grass which his driver offers him, always an inch
from his nose .... You in my power!--and Orestes in my power! ....
I must negotiate that new loan to-morrow, I suppose .... I shall
never be paid. The dog will ruin me, after all! How much is it,
now? Let me see.' .... And she began fumbling in her escritoire,
over bonds and notes of hand. 'I shall never be paid: but power!--to
have power! To see those heathen slaves and Christian hounds
plotting and vapouring, and fancying themselves the masters of the
world, and never dreaming that we are pulling the strings, and that
they are our puppets!--we, the children of the promises--we, The
Nation--we, the seed of Abraham! Poor fools! I could almost pity
them, as I think of their faces when Messiah comes, and they find
out who were the true lords of the world, after all! ....He must be
the Emperor of the South, though, that Orestes; he must, though I
have to lend him Raphael's jewels to make him so. For he must marry
the Greek woman. He shall. She hates him, of course .... So much
the deeper revenge for me. And she loves that monk. I saw it in
her eyes there in the garden. So much the better for me, too. He
will dangle willingly enough at Orestes's heels for the sake of
being near her--poor fool! We will make him secretary, or
chamberlain. He has wit enough for it, they say, or for anything.
So Orestes and he shall be the two jaws of my pincers, to squeeze
what I want out of that Greek Jezebel.. And then, then for the black
agate!'

Was the end of her speech a bathos? Perhaps not; for as she spoke
the last word, she drew from her bosom, where it hung round her neck
by a chain, a broken talisman, exactly similar to the one which she
coveted so fiercely, and looked at it long and lovingly--kissed it--
wept over it--spoke to it--fondled it in her arms as a mother would
a child--murmured over it snatches of lullabies; and her grim,
withered features grew softer, purer, grander; and rose ennobled,
for a moment, to their long-lost might-have-been, to that personal
ideal which every soul brings with it into the world, which shines,
dim and potential, in the face of every sleeping babe, before it has
been scarred, and distorted, and encrusted in the long tragedy of
life. Sorceress she was, pander and slave-dealer, steeped to the
lips in falsehood, ferocity, and avarice; yet that paltry stone
brought home to her some thought, true, spiritual, impalpable,
unmarketable, before which all her treasures and all her ambition
were as worthless in her own eyes as they were in the eyes of the
angels of God.

But little did Miriam think that at the same moment a brawny,
clownish monk was standing in Cyril's private chamber, and, indulged
with the special honour of a cup of good wine in the patriarch's
very presence, was telling to him and Arsenius the following
history--

'So I, finding that the Jews had chartered this pirate-ship, went to
the master thereof, and finding favour in his eyes, hired myself to
row therein, being sure, from what I had overheard from the Jews,
that she was destined to bring the news to Alexandria as quickly as
possible. Therefore, fulfilling the work which his Holiness had
entrusted to my incapacity, I embarked, and rowed continually among
the rest; and being unskilled in such labour, received many curses
and stripes in the cause of the Church--the which I trust are laid
to my account hereafter. Moreover, Satan entered into me, desiring
to slay me, and almost tore me asunder, so that I vomited much, and
loathed all manner of meat. Nevertheless, I rowed on valiantly,
being such as I am, vomiting continually, till the heathens were
moved with wonder, and forbore to beat me, giving me strong liquors
in pity; wherefore I rowed all the more valiantly day and night,
trusting that by my unworthiness the cause of the Catholic Church
might be in some slight wise assisted.'

'And so it is,' quoth Cyril. 'Why do you not sit down, man?'

'Pardon me,' quoth the monk, with a piteous gesture; 'of sitting, as
of all carnal pleasure, cometh satiety at the last.'

'And now' said Cyril, 'what reward am I to give you for your good
service?'

'It is reward enough to know that I have done good service.
Nevertheless if the holy patriarch be so inclined without reason,
there is an ancient Christian, my mother according to the flesh--'

'Come to me to-morrow, and she shall be well seen to. And mind--
look to it, if I make you not a deacon of the city when I promote
Peter.'

The monk kissed his superior's hand and withdrew. Cyril turned to
Arsenius, betrayed for once into geniality by his delight, and
smiting his thigh--


'We have beaten the heathen for once, eh?' And then, in the usual
artificial tone of an ecclesiastic--'And what would my father
recommend in furtherance of the advantage so mercifully thrown into
our hand?'

Arsenius was silent.

'I,' went on Cyril, 'should be inclined to announce the news this
very night, in my sermon.'

Arsenius shook his head.

'Why not? why not?' asked Cyril impatiently.

'Better to keep it secret till others tell it. Reserved knowledge
is always reserved strength; and if the man, as I hope he does not,
intends evil to the Church, let him commit himself before you use
your knowledge against him. True, you may have a scruple of
conscience as to the lawfulness of allowing a sin which you might
prevent. To me it seems that the sin lies in the will rather than
in the deed, and that sometimes--I only say sometimes--it may be a
means of saving the sinner to allow his root of iniquity to bear
fruit, and fill him with his own devices.'

'Dangerous doctrine, my father.'

'Like all sound doctrine--a savour of life or of death, according as
it is received. I have not said it to the multitude, but to a
discerning brother. And even politically speaking--let him commit
himself, if he be really plotting rebellion, and then speak, and
smite his Babel tower.'

'You think, then, that he does not know of Heraclian's defeat
already?'

'If he does, he will keep it secret from the people; and our chances
of turning them suddenly will be nearly the same.'

'Good. After all, the existence of the Catholic Church in
Alexandria depends on this struggle, and it is well to be wary. Be
it so. It is well for me that I have you for an adviser.'

And thus Cyril, usually the most impatient and intractable of
plotters, gave in, as wise men should, to a wiser man than himself,
and made up his mind to keep the secret, and to command the monk to
keep it also.

Philammon, after a sleepless night, and a welcome visit to the
public baths, which the Roman tyranny, wiser in its generation than
modern liberty, provided so liberally for its victims, set forth to
the Prefect's palace, and gave his message; but Orestes, who had
been of late astonishing the Alexandrian public by an unwonted
display of alacrity, was already in the adjoining Basilica. Thither
the youth was conducted by an apparitor, and led up the centre of
the enormous hall, gorgeous with frescoes and coloured marbles, and
surrounded by aisles and galleries, in which the inferior
magistrates were hearing causes, and doing such justice as the
complicated technicalities of Roman law chose to mete out. Through
a crowd of anxious loungers the youth passed to the apse of the
upper end, in which the Prefect's throne stood empty, and then
turned into aside chamber, where he found himself alone with the
secretary, a portly Chaldee eunuch, with a sleek pale face, small
pig's eyes, and an enormous turban. The man of pen and paper took
the letter, opened it with solemn deliberation, and then, springing
to his feet, darted out of the room in most undignified haste,
leaving Philammon to wait and wonder. In half an hour he returned,
his little eyes growing big with some great idea.

'Youth! your star is in the ascendant; you are the fortunate bearer
of fortunate news! His Excellency himself commands your presence.'
And the two went out.

In another chamber, the door of which was guarded by armed men,
Orestes was walking up and down in high excitement, looking somewhat
the worse for the events of the past night, and making occasional
appeals to a gold goblet which stood on the table.

'Ha! No other than my preserver himself! Boy, I will make your
fortune. Miriam says that you wish to enter my service.'

Philammon, not knowing what to say, thought the best answer would be
to bow as low as he could.

'Ah, ha! Graceful, but not quite according to etiquette. You will
soon teach him, eh, Secretary? Now to business. Hand me the notes
to sign and seal. To the Prefect of the Stationaries--'

'Here, your Excellency.'

'To the Prefect of the Corn market--how many wheat-ships have you
ordered to be unladen?'

'Two, your Excellency.'

'Well, that will be largess enough for the time being. To the
Defender of the Plebs--the devil break his neck!'

'He may be trusted, most noble; he is bitterly jealous of Cyril's
influence. And moreover, he owes my insignificance much money.'

'Good! Now the notes to the Gaol-masters, about the gladiators.'

'Here, your Excellency.'

'To Hypatia. No. I will honour my bride elect with my own
illustrious presence. As I live, here is a morning's work for a man
with a racking headache!'

'Your Excellency has the strength of seven. May you live for ever!'

And really, Orestes's power of getting through business, when he
chose, was surprising enough. A cold head and a colder heart make
many things easy.

But Philammon's whole soul was fixed on those words. 'His bride
elect!' .... Was it that Miriam's hints of the day before had
raised some selfish vision, or was it pity and horror at such a fate
for her--for his idol?--But he passed five minutes in a dream, from
which he was awakened by the sound of another and still dearer name.

'And now, for Pelagia. We can but try.'

'Your Excellency might offend the Goth.'

'Curse the Goth! He shall have his choice of all the beauties in
Alexandria, and be count of Pentapolis if he likes. But a spectacle
I must have; and no one but Pelagia can dance Venus Anadyomene.'

Philammon's blood rushed to his heart, and then back again to his
brow, as he reeled with horror and shame.

'The people will be mad with joy to see her on the stage once more.
Little they thought, the brutes, how I was plotting for their
amusement, even when as drunk as Silenus.'

'Your nobility only lives for the good of your slaves.'

'Here, boy! So fair a lady requires a fair messenger. You shall
enter on my service at once, and carry this letter to Pelagia.
Why?--why do you not come and take it?'

'To Pelagia?' gasped the youth. 'In the theatre? Publicly? Venus
Anadyomene?'

'Yes, fool! Were you, too, drunk last night after all?'

'She is my sister!'

'Well, and what of that? Not that I believe you, you villain! So!'
said Orestes, who comprehended the matter in an instant.
'Apparitors!'

The door opened, and the guard appeared.

'Here is a good boy who is inclined to make a fool of himself. Keep
him out of harm's way for a few days. But don't hurt him; for,
after all, he saved my life yesterday, when you scoundrels ran
away.'

And, without further ado, the hapless youth was collared, and led
down a vaulted passage into the guard-room, amid the jeers of the
guard, who seemed only to owe him a grudge for his yesterday's
prowess, and showed great alacrity in fitting him with a heavy set
of irons; which done, he was thrust head foremost into a cell of the
prison, locked in and left to his meditations.



CHAPTER XX: SHE STOOPS TO CONQUER


'But, fairest Hypatia, conceive yourself struck in the face by a
great stone, several hundred howling wretches leaping up at you like
wild beasts--two minutes more, and you are torn limb from limb.
What would even you do in such a case?'

'Let them tear me limb from limb, and die as I have lived.'

'Ah, but--When it came to fact, and death was staring you in the
face?'

'And why should man fear death?'

'Ahem! No, not death, of course; but the act of dying. That may
be, surely, under such circumstances, to say the least,
disagreeable. If our ideal, Julian the Great, found a little
dissimulation necessary, and was even a better Christian than I have
ever pretended to be, till he found himself able to throw off the
mask, why should not I? Consider me as a lower being than
yourself,--one of the herd, if you will; but a penitent member
thereof, who comes to make the fullest possible reparation, by doing
any desperate deed on which you may choose to put him, and prove
myself as able and willing, if once I have the power, as Julian
himself.'

Such was the conversation which passed between Hypatia and Orestes
half an hour after Philammon had taken possession of his new abode.

Hypatia looked at the Prefect with calm penetration, not unmixed
with scorn and fear.

'And pray what has produced this sudden change in your Excellency's
earnestness? For four months your promises have been lying fallow.'
SThe did not confess how glad she would have been at heart to see
them lying fallow still.

'Because--This morning I have news; which I tell to you the first as
a compliment. We will take care that all Alexandria knows it before
sundown. Heraclian has conquered.'

'Conquered?' cried Hypatia, springing from her seat.

'Conquered, and utterly destroyed the emperor's forces at Ostia. So
says a messenger on whom I can depend. And even if the news should
prove false, I can prevent the contrary report from spreading, or
what is the use of being prefect? You demur? Do you not see that
if we can keep the notion alive but a week our cause is won?'