When the thick covering which alone concealed the face and form of the maiden was removed, Scipio and all the officers near him were simply astounded at the excessive loveliness of the charming Idalia, who, her eyes suffused with tears and her face and bosom with burning blushes, stood revealed, trembling before him.
Scipio was moved to pity for her wretched condition.
“By Hymen and Venus! thou hast spoken the truth, my men, and I do greatly thank ye for this beautiful present. For never save in one woman alone,”—he was thinking of Elissa—“have I seen aught so lovely in the human form. My men, since ye have made me the gift, I shall retain it to do as I choose with, and ye shall be all suitably rewarded. And were I other than the general commanding the forces, there is no present which could have been so acceptable. But seeing that I am the general, it becomes me to use a little self-denial in this matter. Therefore, lest from gazing too long upon such charms I should begin to think that I am but a private person who can do as he chooseth in such a matter, give me that veil.”
Taking the heavy veil he went up to the trembling girl, and reassuring her kindly, covered her shoulders and limbs with it. At the same time he gave her a fraternal kiss on the cheek, bidding her not to fear, for he would be as a brother to her. But Idalia, broken down with all the suffering and shame that she had undergone, and moved by Scipio’s unexpected kindness, threw herself down and, clasping his knees, would have kissed his feet. This he would by no means allow, but raising her gently, inquired into her condition and the circumstances attending her capture.
Then the soldiers told him that on the previous day, when the order had been given for a space to slay every living thing that they met, but not to begin to plunder until further orders, they had pursued some fugitives into the porch of a doorway and killed them. Glancing within a room beyond, they had seen a wounded Iberian chieftain, and were about to kill him also, but that this maiden had flung her body full length upon the Iberian, and clung to him so tightly that they had been unable to slay him without wounding or perhaps slaying her also. Then had their leader, the same who now had addressed Scipio, reminded the men that the order was to kill all whom they should meet in the streets, but that there was no order to slay those in the houses, and as the young man himself also offered, in the Latin tongue, a large ransom for his life, they had spared them both.
“In that ye have done well,” said Scipio; “and thy reward shall be the greater,” continued he to the leader, “for that thou didst exactly obey and follow out mine orders to the letter. For mine order was indeed but to slay all living things ye met in the street; there was no order to slay those in the houses. Now tell the Quæstors, whose duty it is to take the money for such as are ransomed, where this young man lies, and when they have rewarded you as I shall direct, ye can depart, leaving the maiden here.”
So the soldiers all received large sums of money, and their leader in addition had a magnificent golden ring presented to him, and they departed rejoicing.
Scipio took Idalia with him to the palace, where Elissa was delighted to see her once more. Scipio, then sending for Allucius, prince of the Celtiberians, whose life had been twice saved by his beautiful lover, first by dragging him when wounded into a house, and then by covering his body with her own, caused him to be brought before him in a litter. The ransom for his life was paid by the father and mother of the maiden, the former being an Iberian noble and the latter a Carthaginian lady.
When they were all assembled together before him, Scipio handed over the ransom that had been paid for his life to Allucius as a wedding portion, and ordered the father and mother to have the wedding celebrated at once between him and the lovely Idalia, without even waiting for his recovery from his wound.
The fame of this action soon spread throughout all Spain and inclined the Iberians greatly to Scipio; but whether he would have acted thus had it not been for his own great love for Elissa, no man can tell.