“Nay, nay—no flattery from thee, or I shall hate thee. I get that till it cloys. But tell me now, times have been better, and why has not Paris moved into superior quarters? Surely he is in better employ and pay than of old.”
“It is so, but only to a small degree,” answered the actor’s wife. “Paris performs in the grand old dramas in Greek only; in those of Æschylus and Eurypides and Sophocles, he is a tragic actor,—and—” the poor woman smiled, “perhaps home troubles have taken the laughter out of him. He is a sad bungler in comedy. Now the taste of Rome is not for the masterpieces of the ancients. The people clamor to see an elephant dance on a tight-rope, and a man crucified who pours forth blood enough to swamp the stage—the Laureolus! that is the piece to bring down the house. Or some bit of buffoonery and indecency. To that the people crowd. However, we live; I hang as a log about my Paris’s neck, but thank God, he loves his log and would not be rid of it, so I am content.”
“But if you will suffer me to assist you,” said Domitia.
Glyceria shook her head. “No, dear lady, do not take it ill if I refuse your kind offer, made, not for the first time. I am very happy here, very—with these dear kind people about me, running in and out all the day, offering their gracious good wishes, lending their ready help. On my word, lady! I do believe that they would all be in tears and feel it as a slight if I were to go; and for myself, I could never be happy away from them.”
Domitia stood up and went to the door. Her heart swelled in her bosom.
“None but the poor know,” said the cripple, “how kind, how tender the poor are to one another. Poverty is a brotherhood—we are all of one blood, and one heart.”
“And I—” said the great lady, looking out on the balcony with its swarm of people, some busy, some idle, most merry—“And I—” said she, dreamily—“I love the poor.”
“Then,” said a low firm voice, “thou art not far from the Kingdom of Heaven.”
She turned and started.
She recollected him, that stately man with deep, soft eyes. Luke, the Physician.