CHAPTER V
THE GROTTOS OF EGERIA
or the following day the Senator of Rome had arranged a Festival of Pan, and the place appointed for the divertissement was one which the Seneschal of the Decameron might have chosen as fit for the reception of his luxurious masters, where every object was in harmony with the delicious and charmed existence which they had devised in defiance of Death. Arcades of vines, bright with the gold and russet foliage of autumn, ascended in winding terraces to a height, on which they converged, forming a spacious canopy over an expanse of brightest emerald turf, inlaid with a mosaic of flowers. In the centre there was a fountain, which sent its spray to a great height in the clear air, refreshing soul and body with the harmony of its waters. Between the interstices of the vines, magnificent views of the whole surrounding country were offered to the eye, to which feature perhaps, or to the effect of a dazzling variety of late roses, which grew among the vines, and the lofty cypresses which made the elevation a conspicuous object in every direction, it owes its present designation of Belvedere.
Stephania's spell had worked powerfully on its intended victim. Surrounded by everything which could kindle the fires of Love and stimulate the imagination, exposed to the influence of her marvellous beauty and the infinite charm of her individuality, Otto was devoured by a passion, which hourly increased, despite the struggle which he put forth to resist it. Stephania's absence had taught him how necessary she had become to his existence, and although he was well informed that she rarely quitted Castel San Angelo, he was yet tortured by the wildest fancies, entirely oblivious that he had given all his youth, his love, his heart to a beautiful phantom,—the wife of another, who could never be his own. And though he endeavoured to reason with his madness, though he questioned himself where it would lead to, in what strange manner he had absorbed the poison which rioted in his system, it was of no avail. The dictates of Fate vanquish the paltry laws of mortals. This love had come to him unbidden—uncalled. Why must the soul remain for ever isolated when the unbounded feast of beauty was spread to all the senses? And was it not too late to retreat? It was the last trump of the tempter.
He won.
As he approached the Minotaurus, Otto's hope brightened with the tints of the rainbow. For the first time since his return from Monte Gargano he had discarded his usual cumbrous habiliments, and though his garb was still that prescribed by the court ceremonial, it added much to display his princely person to advantage. Confiding much more in the secrecy of his movements than in the protection of his attendants, Otto had left the palace on the Aventine unobserved and arrived in the vale of Egeria with a whirl of passion and a rush of recollections, which not only took from him all power, but every wish of resistance,—a far more dangerous symptom.
Stephania's duenna was in waiting and informed him that the latter had dismissed her ladies to amuse themselves at their pleasure in the gardens, while Stephania herself was wreathing a garland for the evening in the Egerian Grotto, which formed the centre of the fantastic labyrinth called the Minotaurus, from an antique statue of the monster which adorned it. Slipping a ring of great value on the old dame's finger, as a testimony, he said, of his gratitude, for watching over her mistress, Otto hastened onward. His heart beat so heavily when he came within view of the rose-matted arches leading to the ancient grotto, that he was obliged to pause to recover his breath. At that moment a voice fell upon his ear, but it was not the voice of Stephania, and with a feeling almost of suffocation in the intensity of his passion, Otto drew aside the foliage to ascertain whether or not his senses had belied him.
The figure of the Minotaurus was cast in bronze, a monstrous bull, crouched, head to the ground, on the marble pavement of the temple. Passing the statue, Otto made for the grotto indicated by his guide, and, raising the tapestry of ivy, which concealed it, disappeared within. Guided by the warm evening light to its entrance, he hesitated as if apprehending some treachery. Then, with quick determination he groped his way into the cavern, paused somewhat suddenly and looked about.
It was deserted, but a faint glimmer lured him to the background, where a fountain gleamed in the purple twilight.