Chapter IV: The Young Lovers

It was more than an hour after the boat had reached the landing-place, and, fatigued with a long, bright, happy day, Ammian and Eudochia had sought the repose of hearts at ease; while Flavia, sitting with her daughter and Theodore in the small chamber near the great Corinthian hall in the palace of Diocletian, busied herself with manifold questions in regard to those friends of other years, in Constantinople and in Rome, from whom she had voluntarily separated herself, in order to lead her children up to years of free agency, at a distance from the luxury and corruption of either great metropolis. The anecdotes which he had to relate, the little traits and rumours which he had collected concerning those whom she had once loved dearly, seemed of greater interest to the Lady Flavia than even the news of more personal importance which he had told her. Yet that news imported that the cession of a portion of Illyria by Valentinian to Theodosius was completely defined--that the dwelling in which she had found a home, by the interest of Paulinus, was now fully transferred from the monarch of the West, who had shown a strong disposition to despoil her of her lands in distant provinces, to the chief of the Eastern empire, who, on the contrary, had hitherto given her kindly aid and protection; and that her possession of that sweet spot, near which many of the estates of her dead husband lay, was confirmed to her by the hand of Theodosius himself.

The lamp had been placed at her right hand, in order that she might peruse the letter of Paulinus; but still she had not proceeded to that task. What were the feelings which stayed her, it were difficult to say; but the open pages lay unread by her side; and though she more than once took them up, as if to begin, she laid them down again as often, and asked some new question. At length, as the moonlight found its way through the half-drawn curtains of the door, she once more raised the letter, saying, "Well, I will read it now," and her eye again fixed upon the first few words.

"Notwithstanding, gentle Flavia," so the epistle ran, "the desire I had expressed to keep hidden from my son and our sweet Ildica our hopes and purposes, yet feelings that I cannot well explain, but which I will now attempt to depict, have induced me, sure of your consent and approbation, to tell him, ere he left me--perhaps for the last time--that it was my wish and hope, if his own heart seconded my desire, that he should in his twentieth year choose the one we both so dearly love for his bride."

Flavia raised her eyes to her daughter and the son of Paulinus, who had, in the occupation which had just employed her, a fair excuse for speaking in low and gentle murmurs. They had farther drawn back the curtains, and were gazing from the door upon the moonbeams which lighted up the great hall; and a bright, warm smile upon the mother's face told that her own heart took kindly part in the fond feelings which were so busy in theirs. She turned to the letter again, however, without comment, and read on. "I am about," continued Paulinus, "to travel through the provinces, and the will of God may require that I shall never return. I know not why, but I have a sadness upon me. As the sun goes down, small objects cast long shadows; and I have fancied that I once, and only once, beheld a cold look in the eye of the emperor towards me, a triumphant smile on the countenance of Chrysapheus; yet if ever omens were infallible, they would be the smiles of our enemies and the coldness of our friends. Nevertheless, let me acknowledge all my weakness--weakness which philosophy cannot conquer, and which it were wisdom to conceal from any other eye than thine, oh, thou that hast been as a sister to my widowed heart, as a mother to my orphan children. Before any evil augury could be drawn from the looks of others, my own heart seemed to feel the coming on of fate. There has been a shadow on my spirit, an apprehension of coming evil, a sensation of neighbouring danger, such as domestic animals feel when near a lion, even without seeing it."

Flavia laid down the page, murmuring, "And is it so, Paulinus? alas, and is it so? Go forth, my children," she added, abruptly, seeing them still standing in the doorway; "you seem as if you longed to taste the moonlight air. Go forth! It is a grand sight to gaze upon the waters of the Adriatic from that noble portico. It expands the heart, it elevates the mind, it raises the soul to the God who made all things. Go forth, then, my children, I would willingly be alone."

They needed no second bidding; for she told them to do that which had lain as a longing at their hearts ever since she had begun to read. Not a year before, when they had last parted, they would have waited no command--nay, no permission; but would at once, in the unconscious liberty of the young heart, bound forth to enjoy the scenes they loved, in the society that they loved not less--that of each other. But a change had come over their feelings since then, rendering all their intercourse more sweet, a thousand times more sweet, but more timid also. Theodore, indeed, knew why; for his father's parting words--the solemn sanction which Paulinus had given to his future union with Ildica, in case death should prevent a father's lips from pronouncing the blessing at their marriage feast--had opened his eyes to the nature of his own sensations. No sooner had the few first words been uttered by Paulinus than he had felt at once that his love for Ildica was more than fraternal affection; that it was different--how different!--from that which he experienced towards Eudochia; how different from that which he entertained towards any other human being! With Ildica, the knowledge was more vague: it was more a sensation than a certainty. So long as Theodore had been with her she had gone on treating him as a brother; but with the feelings of her heart changing towards him still, as imperceptibly, but still as completely, as the green small berry changes to the purple grape, the verdant bud to the expanded and to the yellow leaf. So long as he had been with her she had felt no alteration, though it took place; but during his absence she meditated on those things long and deeply; and on his return she met him with not less affection, but with deep and timid emotions, mingling a consciousness with her every look, which was sweet to the eye that saw it, and that wished it to be so.

Theodore raised the curtain, and Ildica passed out; but ere she had taken two steps in that grand moonlight hall, Theodore's hand clasped hers, and he led her on through all those splendid apartments--which have been, even in ruins, the wonder and the admiration of all after days--to the vast colonnade, six hundred feet in length, which fronted and overlooked the beautiful Adriatic. As they passed, in the various apartments of the slaves and domestics were to be seen lights, and to be heard many a gay voice laughing; and at the end of the principal streets of the palace, for it had its streets as well as corridors, two or three groups were seen playing in the moonlight with polished pieces of bone, or, with loud and vehement gesticulations, disputing about their game. Theodore almost feared that the portico itself might be tenanted by some such party; and his heart had anticipated an hour of lonely wandering with her he loved so eagerly, that he might not have brooked disappointment with old and stoical patience. That portico, however, was considered by the general inhabitants of the palace, and those also of the neighbouring village, as in some degree sacred ground. It was there that the great emperor, after having conquered and reigned in glory through the prime of life, after having satisfied the vengeful zeal of his counsellors against the Christian sects, which now, in spite of all his persecutions, peopled the whole land, after having made his name awful by deeds of blood not less than by deeds of magnificence, had been accustomed to sit, self-stripped of his power, and to gaze out, _after having been an emperor_, upon nearly the same scene which his eyes beheld _before he was anything but a slave_. Although little more than a century had elapsed since the death of Diocletian, his fate and history, his acts and his character, had been strangely distorted by tradition; and though the peasantry had not learned to look upon him as a bad man, or to execrate him as a tyrant, yet the extraordinary vicissitudes which he had hewn out for himself, the vague legends of his acts during life, and the mystery attaching to his death, surrounded his memory with a fearful awe, which held the people of the neighbourhood aloof from the spot for which he had shown such peculiar fondness, when night covered the world with her dim and fanciful shades.

The portico was vacant; happy sounds rose up from the shore, where the fishermen were lingering beside their boats; and a merry laugh, or snatches of some light song, were heard from the neighbouring village, sinking into the hearts of Ildica and Theodore with the power of a charm, waking associations of sweet domestic joy, dim and undefined, but thrilling--potent--overpowering. Oh! who can tell the many magic avenues through which all the external things of the wide universe find, at some time or other, means of communicating with the inmost heart--avenues, the gates of which are shut till, at some cabalistic word of grief, or joy, or hope, or fear, they suddenly fly open, and we find in our bosom a thousand sweet and kindred fellowships, with things which had never learned to touch or agitate us before.

Glad and cheerful, yet calm, were the sounds that broke occasionally upon the listening ear of night; and grand and solemn, but still gentle, was the scene which lay stretched beneath the risen moon; but the sensations which were in the breasts of the two rendered those sounds and sights a thousand fold sweeter, a thousand fold more dear; and, in return, the gay, distant voices, and the calm, wide, moonlight sea, seemed to draw forth and render intense, even to overwhelming, in the souls of Theodore and Ildica,

"Into the mighty vision passing,"

the inborn joy of all the new emotions to which that day had given life within their hearts. They paused and listened to the melody of innocent mirth, and paused and gazed upon the bright world before them. Ildica's hand trembled in that of Theodore, and her heart beat quick; but he felt that she was his, and that she was agitated; and with the gentleness of true affection, though without any definite plan for sparing her, he took the very means of telling his first tale of love so as to agitate as little as possible the young and tender being, all whose deepest feelings were given to him alone.

"Hark!" he said, "hark, dear Ildica! how gay and sweet those merry voices sound! Some lover come back from wandering like me, tells the glad story of his journey done to the ear of her who has watched for him in absence."

Ildica grew more calm, and raised her eyes, too, to Theodore, not without some feeling of surprise, so different was his tone, so much more manly were his words than when they had parted. There had been, up to that moment, one thing, perhaps, wanting in her love towards him--the conscious feeling of man's ascendency: she had loved with passion deep, sincere, and ardent; but she had loved as a girl, and looked upon him still as the companion of her early sports. His words and tone--the words and tone of one who had mingled with, and taken his place among men--put the last rose to the wreath. She felt that thenceforth to him she could cling for protection--to him she could turn for guidance and direction.

But Theodore went on. "Some lover," he said, "or perhaps some husband, Ildica, returned from the labours of the day to home, and happiness, and sweet domestic love! Oh, dear Ildica, since I have been away, often have I, in wandering through different provinces, lodged in the dwellings of traders in the towns, or in the cottages of shepherds and labourers in the mountains and the plains; and the most beautiful, the most blessed thing that I have ever seen has been found as often, if not oftener, in the hut of the herd, or the house of the common merchant, as in the marble palaces of the C[ae]sars, and within the walls of imperial cities. Oh, that sweet domestic love! that blessing--that bright blessing! which, like the glorious light of the sun, shines alike on every condition and on every state, cheering, enlivening, enlightening, all who shut it not out from their own dark hearts by vices and by crimes. Hark, hark! dear Ildica, how those gay voices seem to chime to my words, speaking of love, and joy, and hope! Oh, Ildica, dear Ildica! may not such things be also for you and me?"

Ildica sunk down on the stone seat by which they had been standing, but she left her hand still in his, and he felt it tremble. Nor did he himself speak unmoved; for his ardent nature, and the first breaking forth of those dear and treasured thoughts, shook his whole frame; and scarcely daring to trust his lips with further words, he placed himself by her side, murmuring only, "Dearest Ildica!" She answered only with a long-drawn, agitated sigh; and, gliding his arm round her soft waist, he drew her gently to his bosom.

"Oh, Theodore, is not this wrong?" she asked, but without attempting to free herself from his embrace.

"Wrong, my Ildica? wrong, my beloved?" he exclaimed: "oh, no! God forbid that I should ever seek to make you do or feel aught that is evil! No, no, dearest, my father's blessing will attend our union; he has promised, he has given it: our dear mother's consent was spoken to him long ago!"

"Indeed!" cried Ildica.

"Yes, indeed," he said, pressing her again closer to his bosom, from which she had partly raised herself as she spoke. "Yes, indeed, Ildica! Joyful did my father's words sound in my ear, as he told me that, if I could win your love, I might hope for your hand. Nothing now is wanting to my happiness but one dear word from my Ildica's sweet lips. Oh, speak it, beloved! Speak it; and say you will be mine." She could not find voice to utter the deep feelings of her heart; but her cheek sunk glowing upon his shoulder, and their lips met in the first dear, long, thrilling kiss of happy and acknowledged love.