Valerius. A Roman Story

by J. G. Lockhart

At last they came quite close to us, and passed on dancing around the image of the Goddess, and singing the chaunt of Atys. A path being opened for them by the crowd all along, they made no halt in their progress, but went on at the same pace, some of them leaping high from the ground as they dashed their cymbals, and others dancing lowly while they blew the long Phrygian trumpets and crooked horns of brass. The image itself was seated in a brazen chariot, to which brazen lions also were fastened, the whole being borne on the shoulders of some of the assistants. Behind it came others, beating great hollow drums; and then again more, leaping, and dancing, and singing, like those who preceded it. They were all clad in long Asiatic vests, with lofty tiaras; and their countenances, as well as [pg 286]their voices, intimated sufficiently that they were ministers of the same order to which the hapless Atys had belonged. Yet nothing but enthusiasm and triumph could be discovered in their manner of singing that terrible hymn.

They had not advanced much beyond the spot where we were standing, ere they stopped of a sudden, and, placing the chariot and image of Cybele between the pillars of one of the porticos that run out into the street, began a more solemn species of saltation. When they had finished this dance also, and the more stately and measured song of supplication with which it was accompanied, the priests then turned to the multitude, and called upon all those who reverenced the Didymæan mysteries, to approach and offer their gifts. Immediately the multitude that were beyond formed themselves into a close phalanx, quite across the street, and torches being conveyed into the hands of such as stood in the foremost rank, there was left in front of the image an open space, brightly illuminated, for the convenience, as it seemed, of those who might come forward to carry their offerings to the foot of the statue. And, indeed, it appeared as if these were not likely to be few in number; for the way being quite blocked up by those torch-bearers, no one could hope to pass on easily without giving something, or to pass at all without being observed. Not a few chariots, therefore, and litters also, having been detained, the persons seated in these vehicles seemed to be anxious, as soon as possible, to present their offerings, that the path onward might be cleared to them by command of the priests. It was necessary, however, as it turned out, that each person [pg 287]in advancing to the chariot of Cybele, should imitate the motions practised by the Galli themselves; and this circumstance, as may be imagined, was far from being the most acceptable part of the ceremony to some of those who had thus been arrested. A few of the common sort, both men and women, stepped boldly into the open ring, and with great appearance of joy went through the needful gesticulations. But, at first, none of the more lordly tenants of the chariots and litters seemed to be able to prevail on themselves to follow the example. At length, however, the impatience even of these dignified persons began to overcome their reluctance; one and another red-edged gown was seen to float in lofty undulations across the torch-lighted stage, and when a handful of coin was heard to ring upon the basin of the Goddess, doubt not the priests half-cracked their cheeks in blowing horn and trumpet, and clattered upon their great tambarines as violently as if they had made prize of another Atys. But how did the Centurion chuckle when he observed that one of the next chariots was no other than that of Rubellia herself, and perceived that she and the Stoic were now about to pass onwards like the rest, at the expense of exhibiting their agility before the multitude.

“Jove in heaven!” cried he, “I thought the garden scene was all in all; but this is supreme! Behold how the sturdy Thracian tucks up his garment, and how, nodding to the blows of the tambarine, he already meditates within himself the appropriate convolutions. And the pretty widow! by the girdle of Venus, she also is pointing her trim toe, and, look ye! better and better, do you not see that she has given her [pg 288]veil to the Stoic, that so she may perform the more expeditely?”

At this moment, some one from behind laid hold of my arm, and whispered my name. I looked round, and perceived an old man, wrapped in a very large and deep mantle, the folds of which, however, were so arranged that I could see very little of his features. Stepping a pace or two backwards, he beckoned to me with his hand. I hesitated; but his gesture being repeated, I also entered within the shade of the pillars, and then he, dropping his mantle on his shoulders, said, “Valerius, do you not remember me? We met last at the tomb of the Sempronii.”—“At the tomb of the Sempronii!” said I; and recognized, indeed, the features of the Christian priest, who had treated me on that eventful evening with so much courtesy; but my wonder was great to find him in such a situation; for I had seen him conveyed away between armed guards, and I could not imagine by what means he, of all others, should have so soon regained his freedom. He observed my astonishment, and said, in a low voice, “My friend, perhaps I might have as much reason to be surprised with seeing you here, as you have in seeing me. But follow me into this house, where we may communicate what has occurred.”

The hope of perhaps hearing something concerning Athanasia determined me. I cast a look towards Sabinus, and saw him attentively engaged in witnessing the performance; and hoping that he might continue to amuse himself so for a few minutes longer, I permitted the old man to lead me into the vestibule. The slaves, who were waiting there, seemed to receive him [pg 289]with much respect. He passed them, saying, “Do not trouble yourselves—I shall rejoin your master;” and shortly ushered me into a chamber situated over the hall of entrance, where a grave personage was reclining by the open window. He perceived not our approach till we had come close up to his couch, for he was occupied with what was going on without. When the old man accosted him, and said, “Pontius, I have been successful. Here is my friend, Caius Valerius,” the stranger rose up, and saluted me with kindness. “Caius Valerius,” said he, “will pardon me for being desirous of seeing him here, when he learns that I was one of his father’s oldest friends, and served with him many campaigns both in Germany and Britain. I should have been ill pleased had I heard that you had been in Rome, and departed without my having an opportunity of retracing, as I now do, the image of my comrade.”

I had to answer not a few questions concerning the situation of my mother and myself, before I could lead the conversation into the channel I desired; and at length, indeed, it was not so much any thing I said, as the readiness of the priest himself, which gave to it that direction; for the first pause that occurred in the discourse between Pontius and myself, he filled up, by saying, “And now, will Valerius pardon me for asking, if he has ever looked again into the narrative of Luke, or whether his curiosity, in regard to these matters, has been entirely satisfied by the adventures of one unfortunate night?”

The manner in which Pontius regarded me when the priest said this, left me no doubt that he was at least favourably inclined to the opinions of the Christians; [pg 290]so I answered without hesitation, “My curiosity, instead of being satisfied by what I saw that evening, received new strength; but you may easily believe that the troubles in which I was involved, and still more the troubles with which I know others yet to be surrounded, have hitherto taken away from me both the means and the power of gratifying my curiosity as I would wish.—But tell me, I pray you, by what means is your imprisonment at an end?”—“My friend,” replied the priest, “you speak naturally but rashly. I believe you yourself are the only one of those surprised in the tower, whose imprisonment has as yet terminated. Yet hope, good hope is not absent,—above all, I trust there is no reason to despair concerning that dear child who interfered in your behalf, when a bold, and, I fear me, a false man, had drawn his weapon to your peril. As for me, I have but gained the liberty of an hour or two, and long ere dawn I shall be restored again to my fetters.”—“Your fetters!” said I, “am I to understand, that, by the connivance of a Roman jailor, you are this night at liberty to perambulate the streets of Rome?”—“Young man,” answered the priest, “he is a Christian.”—“Even for his sake,” said I, “the name is honourable.”

“Valerius,” said he, “I pray you speak not things which may hereafter give pain to your memory. Already you have read something of the life of One, for whose sake our name is indeed honourable—of Him I trust you shall ere long both read and think more; but how shall I bless God, that threw my lot, since captivity it was to be, into a place where such authority was to have the superintendence of me? Yet more, how shall [pg 291]I be sufficiently grateful, that She, in all things so delicate, although in nothing fearful, has shared the same blessing?”

“Heavens,” said I, “what do I hear!—Is Athanasia indeed lodged in the same prison with yourself, and may she also go abroad thus freely?”

“Think not,” he replied, “that I embrace such freedom for any purposes of mine own. What I do for the service to which I am bound, think not that Athanasia will ever desire to do for herself. She abides her time patiently where the lot hath been cast for her; in due season, if such be the will of the Lord, she shall regain that in truth, of which this is but the shadow.”