  For some moments Domitia remained without stirring. But then, roused by a glare of lightning, succeeded by a crash so loud as to shake the palace, she saw in the white blaze the tablets of the Emperor lying on the table. At once, aware of the importance of what she had secured, she seized them, and went to the lamp to open them. They consisted of thin citron-wood boards, framed and hinged on one side, the surfaces within covered with a film of wax, on which notes were inscribed with a stile or iron pen. There were stray leaves that served for correspondence, orders and so forth, but what Domitia now held was a diptych, that is to say, two leaves hinged, like a book-cover, which had included loose sheets and were bound together by strings. She at once opened the diptych, and saw on the first page:— “To be executed immediately:— On the second leaf: “To be executed on the morrow:— The words applying to Lamia acted on her as a blow against her heart. She staggered to a stool, sank on it and struggled for breath. But the urgency of the danger allowed no delay—she rallied her strength immediately, flew from the room and summoned Eboracus. To him, breathless, she said: “Fly—summon me at once Stephanus the steward, Petronius and Norbanus, prÆfects, and the chamberlains Parthenius and Sigerius. Bid them come to me at once—not make a moment’s delay.” She sank again on the stool and put her hands to her temples and pressed them. The lightning continued to flare and the thunder to roll. There ensued a turmoil, and a sound of voices crying; then a rush of feet. Euphrosyne entered with startled mien—“My mistress! The bolt of heaven has fallen on the Palatine, and the chamber of the [pg 313] The chamberlain, Parthenius, entered. “Augusta!” said he, “the lightning has struck that part of the palace occupied by CÆsar. He must have his apartment for the night on this side.” “That is well,” answered Domitia. “Parthenius, have you received my message from Eboracus?” “No, lady.” “Then read this,” she extended to him the wax tablets. The chamberlain turned ash gray and trembled. “Parthenius,” said Domitia, “it is no vain augury that lightning has struck the Temple of the Flavians, and driven CÆsar from his apartments. Let his place of rest be to-night in the room adjoining this—and—if he wakes—” she looked at the clepsydra, as at that moment with a click the wheel turned and Saturn moved his scythe—“there is but an hour in which the fate of more than yourself, of Lamia—of Entellus must be decided. Take the tablets.” Scarce had she spoken, before quick steps were heard, and in a moment Domitian entered. Parthenius hastily concealed the tablets by throwing a fold of his garment over the hand that held them. “Sire,” said he, “I have come to announce that thy chamber must be on this side.” “Go thy way,” said Domitian roughly, “see to it that I have a bed brought at once. Hast heard, Domitia, the fire has fallen!” “Sire,” said Parthenius, “I haste to obey and pray the Gods that in spite of thunder and lightning you may sleep sound and not wake.” [pg 314]The Emperor walked to the clepsydra, and laughed scornfully. “The bolt of Jove has missed me,” said he. “The red-handed One made a mistake. I am wont to be in bed at this hour—by good luck, this night I was not. He has levelled his bolt at my pillow and burnt that—I am escaped scot-free. Now I have no further fear.” “The temple of your divine family is in flames.” “What care I? I will rebuild it—the majesty, the divinity of the Flavians resides not in stones and marble—it is incorporate in Me. I may have been in danger for a moment. Now I snap my fingers in the face of that blunderer Jove, who burnt a hole in my pillow instead of transfixing my head. And yon old Chronos—” he made a sign of contempt towards scythed Time, “I defy thee and thy bucket of blood. Twelve o’clock! In spite of Jove’s bolt, and the summons of Cornelia—I shall be asleep by that hour.” “I pray the Gods it may be so.” Then Domitian went out precipitately. His defiant attitude, his daring talk did not serve to disguise the alarm which he felt. Suddenly, after having left the room he turned, came back and said, “Domitia! What sword is that? What need has a woman with a sword?” He pointed to that of Corbulo, suspended against the wall. He went to it and took it down. “Leave it,” said she harshly. “It is that on which my father fell. It is stained likewise with the blood of Nero.” He held it by the scabbard. She caught the handle and, as he turned, drew forth the blade. At the same moment he heard steps in the passage [pg 315] In the doorway stood Stephanus, a freedman, the steward of Flavia Domitilla, wife, or rather widow of Clemens, whom Domitian had recently put to death. Domitilla had been exiled, and the Emperor had appropriated to his own use the estates of his kinsman. “Why camest thou hither?” asked the prince roughly. “I shall have enough to say to thee on the morrow because of thy embezzlements.” “Augustus! I am innocent.” “A thief, a vile purloiner, a blood-sucking leech, that has fattened as do all thy kind on thy masters. Go thy way—I want thee not here.” And striding towards him, with Corbulo’s scabbard he struck the freedman across the face. Stephanus uttered a cry of rage and pain, and instantly smote at the Emperor with a dagger he had held concealed in his sleeve. “What, hound! You dare! You shall be flayed alive! Ho! to my aid!” Stephanus threw himself on the Emperor. Then Domitia stepped between the struggling men and the doorway, and with one hand drew together the curtains so as to muffle the cries. “To my aid! to my aid!” called Domitian, as the powerful steward grappled him, and struck his dagger into the thigh of the prince. “To my aid! Ho, a sword!” shouted the Emperor, and he grasped the weapon of the steward but [pg 316] He now made an effort to reach the doorway; and the steward, holding him, strove to wrench away the dagger and inflict a mortal wound. But Domitian, aware of his object, with his bleeding hand retained his grasp of the blade. All at once, the Emperor let go his hold, and seizing the steward by the head drove his thumbs into his eyes. Stephanus instantly dropped the dagger in his attempt to save himself from being blinded. The two men twisted and writhed in grapple with each other. The freedman was a powerful man—it was for this reason he had been sent to despatch the prince. But Domitian was battling for his life. Though his legs were thin and out of proportion to his body, he was a strong man—he had ever maintained his vigor by exercise of the muscles and had never weakened himself by excess in eating and drinking. By a happy turn he flung Stephanus, but clasped by him fell with him on the floor. And now the two men rolled and tossed in a tangled mass together. Their snorts and gasps and the bestial growl of rage filled the room. “Quick! Domitia—the sword! At once—the sword—the sword!” said the Emperor. He spoke in gulps and gasps. He had Stephanus under him; his knee was on his chest and his hand, the gashed left hand flowing with blood, contracted the prostrate man’s throat. “Domitia! the sword!” DOMITIA! THE SWORD! “DOMITIA! THE SWORD!” Page 316. But she stood, stern, cold, without stirring a step, [pg 317] “Because of Paris—No!” “The sword! be speedy. I will finish him!” “Because of Cornelia—No!” “Domitia—help!” “Because of Lucius Lamia—No!” She went to the curtains, drew them apart, and called down the passage to Norbanus. The two PrÆtorian prÆfects were there with the chamberlains—but they were ill able to restrain the guard who suspected that their prince and Emperor was in danger and scented treachery. Instantly a rush was made. Some of the soldiers, with the prÆfect Norbanus, came on running, whilst the other, Petronius Secundus, endeavored by his authority to restrain the rest. But from the other end of the passage came gladiators running, hastily brought together by Parthenius. For a moment there was a jam in the doorway, a burly gladiator and a soldier of the guard were wedged together, each endeavoring to hold the other back and force himself in. Meanwhile Petronius continued to exhort his soldiers to stand back, and Parthenius to promise rewards to the gladiators who pressed on. The tumult became terrible. Men came to blows without, there was a running together of slaves and freedmen—of frightened women and pages from all sides. Some had leaped from their beds, roused from sleep, and were not clothed. Some bore lamps—but again certain others attempted to extinguish the lights. Some cried “Treason!” Others “Away with the monster!” [pg 318] Then the gladiator at the door, by dint of elbowing, forced his way within, but he was unarmed. Next moment the PrÆtorian guardsman held back by the gladiator entered and struck at Stephanus, dealing a frightful blow. Relieved by this assistance, Domitian staggered to his feet and glared about him. He was too much out of breath to speak, and in at the door came others pressing, some crying one thing, some another. Then Domitia unfolded her arms, and taking the sword of Corbulo in her right hand, extended it to the gladiator and said—“Make an end.” The man snatched at the haft; and with a blow drove the blade into the breast of the Emperor. Still the prince remained standing, and stretched forth his hands gropingly for a weapon. Parmenas leaped at him, and with a knife struck him in the throat. Then he reeled; in another moment he was surrounded, blows from all sides were rained on him. Again the sword of Corbulo was lifted and again smote, and he fell as a heap on the body of Stephanus. For a moment there was stillness. Then in that hush sounded a click and a gush. The bucket of the clepsydra had discharged, and with a jerk Saturn raised his scythe and pointed to the hour of midnight. “He has answered his summons before the seat of Divine Justice!” said Domitia. She stooped and plucked the signet ring from the finger of the murdered prince. |
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