THE CRYSTAL GOBLET:
A TALE OF THE EMPEROR SEVERUS.
It was midnight,—yet a light was burning in a small chamber situated in one of the narrowest and least frequented streets of Eboracum,—then the metropolis of the world. York at that period being the residence of the Emperor Severus, his court and family were conveyed hither; and the government of the world transferred to an obscure island in the west: once the ultima Thule of civilization, its native inhabitants hardly yet emerged from a state of barbarism, and addicted to the most gross and revolting superstitions.
A lamp of coarse earthenware was fastened on a bronze stand, having several beaks, and of a boat-like shape. Near it stood the oil-vase for replenishing, almost empty,—while the wicks, charred and heavy with exuviæ, looked as though for sometime untrimmed. On the same table was a Greek and a Coptick manuscript, an inkhorn, and the half of a silver penny, the Roman symbolum. Breaking a piece of money as a keepsake, between two friends, was, even at that period, a very ancient custom. A brass rhombus, used by magicians, lay on a cathedra, or easy chair, which stood as though suddenly pushed aside by its occupier in rising hastily from his studies. An iron chest was near, partly open, wherein papers and parchments lay tumbled about in apparent disorder. Vellum, so white and firm, as to curl even with the warmth of the hand; purple skins emblazoned in gold and silver, and many others, of rare workmanship, were scattered about with unsparing profusion. It was evidently the study, the librarium of some distinguished person, and consisted of an inner chamber beyond the court, having one window near the roof, and another opening into a small garden behind. From the ceiling there hung a dried ape, a lizard, and several uncouth, unintelligible reptiles, put together in shapes that nature's most fantastic forms never displayed. Vases of ointments, and unguents of strange odours, stood in rows, upon a marble slab on one side of the apartment. Scrinia, or caskets for the admission of rolls, and writing materials were deposited on shelves, forming a library of reference to the individual whose sanctum we are now describing: It was, apparently, undisturbed by any living occupant, save a huge raven, now roosting on a wooden perch, his head buried under a glossy tissue of feathers, and, to all appearance, immovable as the grinning and hideous things that surrounded him. A magpie, confined in a cage above the door, was taught to salute those who entered, with the word "χαιρε," a Grecian custom, greatly in vogue amongst the most opulent of the Romans.
Ere long, there came a footstep,—and a gentle summons at the door. The bird gave the usual response; and straightway entered a stout muscular figure, wrapped in a chlamys, fastened on the shoulder with a richly-embossed fibula. Beneath, was the usual light leathern cuirass, covered with scales of shining metal; the centre, over the abdomen, ornamented with a gorgon's head, and other warlike devices; a short sword, being stuck in his girdle. From the lowest part hung leathern straps, or lambrequins highly wrought and embellished. He wore breeches or drawers, reaching to the knees, and his feet and the lower part of the leg were covered with the cothurnus, a sort of traveller's half-boot. A sumptuous mantle, made of leopard skin, was thrown carelessly about his head, hardly concealing his features; for the folds relaxing in some measure as he entered, showed a youthful countenance; yet dark and ferocious, indicating a character of daring and vindictive energy; and a disposition where forgiveness or remorse rarely tempered the fiercer passions. As he looked round, the raven raised his head on a sudden, and peering at him with that curious and familiar eye, so characteristic of the tribe, gave a loud and hollow croak, which again arrested the notice of the intruder.
"Most auspicious welcome truly, ill omened bird. Is thy master visible?"
There was no reply; and the inquirer, after a cautious glance round the chamber, sat down, evidently disconcerted by this unexpected reception. Scarcely seated, he felt the clasp on his shoulder suddenly risen, as though by an intruder from behind. Looking round, he saw the raven with the bauble in his beak, hopping off with great alacrity to his perch. The magpie set up a loud scream as though vexed he was not a participator in the spoil. The owner, angry at his loss, pursued the thief, who defied every attempt to regain it; getting far above his reach; ever and anon the same ominous croak sounding dismally through the gloom by which he was concealed. Finding it fruitless, the stranger gave up the pursuit, and again sat down, examining carelessly the papers which lay open for perusal. But it might seem these feathered guardians were entrusted with the care of their master's chamber during his absence.
"Beware!" said the same querulous voice, that before accosted him. Looking up, he saw the magpie, his neck stretched to the utmost through the bars of his cage, and in the act of repeating the injunction.
"'Tis an ill augur to my suit," he muttered hastily. "Destiny!" Starting up at the word, which he spake aloud, he clenched his hand.