University of Virginia Library

2. LETTER II.

I fear lest the length of my first letter may have
fatigued you, my Curtius, knowing, as I so well do, how
you esteem brevity. I hope at this time not to try your
patience. But however I may weary or vex you, by my
garrulity, I am sure of a patient and indulgent reader in
the dear Lucilia, to whom I would now first of all commend
myself. I salute her, and with her the little Gallus.
My writing to you is a sufficient proof that I myself am
well.

By reason of our delaying so long on that little hill,
and at other points, for the sake of drinking in full
draughts of the unrivalled beauty which lay spread over
all the scenery within the scope of our vision, we did
not approach the walls of the city till the last rays of the
sun were lingering upon the higher buildings of the capital.
This rendered every object so much the more
beautiful; for a flood of golden light, of a richer hue,
it seemed to me, than our sun ever sheds upon Rome,
rolled over the city, and plain, and distant mountains,
giving to the whole a gorgeousness altogether beyond
any thing I ever saw before, and agreeing well with all
my impressions of oriental magnificence. It was seen
under the right aspect. Not one expectation was disappointed,
but rather exceeded, as we came in sight of the
vast walls of the city, and of the `Roman Gate' — so it
is called — through which we were to make our entrance.
It was all upon the grandest scale. The walls were
higher, and more frequently defended by square massy
towers springing out of them, than those of Rome. The
towers, which on either side flanked the gateway, and
which were connected by an immense arch flung from
one to the other, were particularly magnificent. No
sooner had we passed through it, than we found ourselves
in a street lined as it were with palaces. It was of great
width — we have no street like it in this respect — of an
exact level, and stretched onward farther than the eye
could distinctly reach, till, as I was told, it was terminated
by another gate similar to that by which we had entered.
The buildings on each side of it were altogether of
marble of Grecian design — the city is filled with Greek
artists of every description, — frequently adorned with
porticos of the most rich and costly construction, and

the long ranges of private dwellings often interrupted by
temples of religion, edifices of vast extent belonging to
the state, or by gardens attached to the residences of the
luxurious Palmyrene nobility.

`It is well for Palmyra,' here muttered my slave Milo,
`that the Emperor has never, like us, travelled this way

`Why so, Milo?' said I.

`I simply think,' rejoined he, `that he would burn it
down; and it were a pity so many fine buildings should
be destroyed. Was there not once a place called
Carthage? I have heard it said that it was once as large
as Rome, and as well garnished with temples, and that
for that reason the Romans `blotted it out.' The people
here may thank the desert which we have crossed, that
they are not as Carthage. Aurelian, I trow, little dreams
what glory is to be won here in the East, or else he would
not waste his time upon the savage Goths.'

`The Romans are no longer barbarians,' I replied,
`as they were once. They build up, now, instead of
demolishing. Remember that Augustus rebuilt Carthage,
and that Antoninus Pius founded that huge and beautiful
temple which rose out of the midst of Baalbec; andbeside
that — if I am not mistaken — many of the noblest
monuments of art in this very city are the fruit of his
munificence.'

`Gods, what a throng is here!' ejaculated Milo, little
heeding, apparently, what I had said; `how are we to get
our beasts along? They pay no more regard to us, either,
than if we were not Romans. Could any one have
believed a people existed of such strange customs and
appearance? What carriages! — what wagons! — what
animals! — and what unheard-of dresses, and from all
parts of the earth, too, as it would seem! But it is a
pretty sight. Pity, though, but they could move as quick,

as they look well. Fellow, there! you will gratify us if
you will start your camels a little out of our way. We
wish to make toward the house of Gracchus, and we
cannot pass you.'

The rider of the camel turned round his turbaned
head, and fixing upon Milo a pair of fierce eyes, bade
him hold his peace:

`Did he not see the street was crowded?'

`I see it is filled with a set of dull idlers,' replied Milo,
`who want nothing but Roman rods to teach them a
quick and wholesome movement. Friend, lend me thy
cudgel; and I will engage to set thy beasts and thee,
too, in motion. If not, consider that we are new comers,
and Romans withal, and that we deserve some regard.'

`Romans!' screamed he: `may curses light on you!
You swarm here like locusts, and like them you come
but to devour. Take my counsel: turn your faces the
other way, and off to the desert again! I give you no
welcome, for one. Now pass on — if on you still will
go — and take the curse of Hassan the Arab along with
you.'

`Milo,' said I, `have a care how you provoke these
Orientals. Bethink yourself that we are not now in the
streets of Rome. Bridle your tongue betimes, or your
head may roll off your shoulders before you can have time
to eat your words to save it.'

`I am a slave, indeed,' answered Milo, with some dignity,
for him, `but I eat other food than my own words.
In that there hangs something of the Roman about me.'

We were now opposite what I discovered, from the
statues and emblems upon it, and surrounding it, to be
the Temple of Justice, and I knew therefore that the palace
on the other side of the street, adorned with porticos,
and partly hidden among embowering trees and shrubs,
must be the dwelling of Gracchus.

We turned down into a narrower street, and after proceeding
a little way, passed under a massy arched gateway,
and found ourselves in the spacious court-yard of this
princely mansion. Slaves soon surrounded us, and by
their alacrity in assisting me to dismount, and in performing
every office of a hospitable reception, showed that we
were expected guests, and that my letters announcing my
intended visit, had been received. Leaving my slaves and
effects to the care of the servants of the house, I followed
one who seemed to be a sort of head among them, through
walks bordered with the choicest trees, flowers and shrubs,
opening here and there in the most graceful manner to
reveal a statue of some sylvan god reclining under the
shade, and soon reached the rear of the house, which I
entered by a flight of marble steps. Through a lofty hall
I passed into a saloon which seemed the reception-room
of the palace, where I had hardly arrived, and obtained
one glance at my soiled dress and sun-burnt visage in the
mirror, than my ear caught the quick sound of a female
foot hastening over the pavement of the hall, and turning
suddenly, I caught in my arms the beautiful Fausta. It
was well for me that I was so taken by surprise, for I acted
naturally, which I fear I should not have done if I had
had a moment to deliberate before I met her; for she is
no longer a girl, as in Rome, running and jumping
after her slave to school, but a nearly full-grown woman,
and of a beauty so imposing as might well cause
embarrassment in a youth of even more pretensions than
myself.

`Are you indeed,' said I, retaining each hand in mine,
but feeling that in spite of all my assumed courage, I was
covered with blushes, `are you indeed the little Fausta?
Truly there must be marvellous virtues in the air of Palmyra.
It is but four years since you left Rome, and

then, as I remember — shall I mention such a thing? —
you were but twelve, and now though but' —

`Oh!' cried she, `never begin such a speech; it will
only trouble you before you can end it. How glad I am to
see you! Welcome, dear Lucius, to Palmyra! If open
hearts can make you happy here, you will not fail to be so.
But how did you leave all in Rome? First your friend
Marcus? and Lucilia? and the noble, good Portia?
Ah! how happy were those days in Rome! Come sit on
these cushions by this open window. But more than all,
how does the dear pedagogue and dialectician, the learned
Solon? Is he as wise yet as his great namesake?
Oh what days of merriment have his vanity and simplicity
afforded me! But he was a good soul. Would
he could have accompanied you. You are not so far out
of leading-strings that you could not have taken him with
you as a travelling Mentor. In truth, nothing could have
given me more pleasure.'

`I came away in great haste, dear Fausta,' said I,
`with scarce a moment for preparation of any kind. You
have but this morning received my letter, which was but
part of a day in advance of me. If I could have done it,
I should have given you more timely notice. I could not,
therefore, look out for companions for the way. It would,
however, have been a kindness to Solon, and a pleasure
to me. But why have I not before asked for your:
is not the noble Gracchus at home? — and is he well?'

`He is at home, or rather he is in the city,' replied
Fansta, `and why he makes it so late before returning, I
cannot tell: but you will soon see him. In the mean
time, let my slaves show you where to find your rooms,
that you may rest, and prepare for supper.'

So saying, she clapped her hands, and a tall Ethiopian
with a turban as white as his face was black, quickly
made his appearance, and took me in his charge.

`Look well after your toilet,' cried Fausta, laughing, as
I left the room; we think more of costume here than
they do in Rome.'

I followed my dark conductor through many passages
to a distant part of the building, where I found
apartments furnished with every luxury, and already prepared
for my use.

`Here I have carefully placed your baggage,' said the
slave, as I entered the room, `and whatever else I thought
you might need. Call Hannibal, when you wish for my
services; I am now yours. This door leads to a small
room where will lodge your own slave Milo; the others
are in the stables.' Thus delivering himself, he departed.

The windows of my apartment opened upon the wide
street by which we had entered the city, not immediately,
but first upon a border of trees and flowers, then upon a
low wall, here and there crowned with a statue or a vase,
and which separated the house from the street, and last
upon the street itself, its busy throngs and noble structures.
I stood for a moment enjoying the scene, rendered
more impressive by the dim but still glowing light of the
declining day. Sounds of languages which I knew not,
fell upon my ear, sent forth by those who urged along
through the crowds their cattle, or by those who would
draw attention to the articles which they had to sell. All
was new and strange, and tended, together with my reflections
upon the business which had borne me so far
from my home and you, to fill me with melancholy. I
was roused from my reverie by the voice of Milo.

`If,' said he, `the people of these Eastern regions understand
better than we of Rome the art of taking off
heads, they certainly understand better, as in reason they
should, the art of making them comfortable while they
are on: already I have taken a longer draught at a wine

skin than I have been blessed with since I was in the
service of the most noble Gallienus. Ah, that was life!
He was your true philosopher who thought life made for
living. These Palmyrenes seem of his school.'

`Leave philosophy, good Milo, and come help me dress;
that is the matter now in hand. Unclasp these trunks
and find something that shall not deform me.'

So desirous was I, you perceive, to appear well in the
eyes of the fair Fausta.

It was now the appointed hour to descend to the supper
room, and as I was about to leave my apartment, hardly
knowing which way to move, the Ethiopian, Hannibal,
made his appearance, to serve as my conductor.

I was ushered into an apartment, not large, but of exquisite
proportions — circular, and of the most perfect
architecture, on the Greek principles. The walls, thrown
into panels between the windows and doors, were covered
with paintings, admirable both for their design and color;
and running all around the room, and attached to the
walls, was a low and broad seat, covered with cushions of
the richest workmanship and material. A lofty and arched
ceiling, lighted by invisible lamps, represented a banquet
of the gods, offering to those seated at the tables
below a high example of the manner in which the divine
gifts should be enjoyed. This evening, at least, we did not
use the privileges which that high example sanctioned.
Fausta was already in the room, and rose with affectionate
haste to greet me again.

`I fear my toilet has not been very successful, Fausta,'
said I, `for my slave Milo was too much elated by the
generous wines with which his companions had plied him,
as a cordial after the fatigues of the journey, to give me
any of the benefit of his taste or assistance. I have been
my own artificer on this occasion, and you must therefore
be gentle in your judgments.'

`I cannot say that your fashions are equally tasteful
with those of our Palmyrenes, I must confess. The love
of the beautiful, the magnificent, and the luxurious, is
our national fault, Lucius; it betrays itself in every department
of civil and social life, and not unfrequently declines
into a degrading effeminacy. If any thing ruins
us, it will be this vice. I assure you I was rather jesting
than in earnest, when I bade you look to your toilet.
When you shall have seen some of our young nobles, you
will find reason to be proud of your comparative simplicity.
I hear, however, that you are not now far behind us in
Rome — nay, in many excesses, you go greatly beyond us.
We have never yet had a Vitellius, a Pollio, or a Gallienus.
And may the sands of the desert bury us a thousand
fathoms deep, ere such monsters shall be bred and endured
in Palmyra!'

`I perceive,' said I, `that your sometime residence
in Rome has not taught you to love your native country
less. If but a small portion of the fire which I see
burning in your eye warms the hearts of the people, it
will be no easy matter for any external foe to subdue you.'

`There are not many, I believe,' replied Fausta, `of
your or my sex in Palmyra, who would with more alacrity
lay down their lives for their country and our sweet and
noble Queen, than I. But believe me, Lucius, there are
multitudes who would do it as soon. Zenobia will lead
the way to no battle field where Fausta, girl though she
be, will not follow. Remember what I say, I pray you, if
difficulty should ever again grow up — which the gods
forefend! — between us and Rome'

We were now suddenly interrupted by the loud and
cheerful voice of Gracchus, exclaiming, as he approached
us from the great hall of the palace, `How now! — How
now! — whom have we here? Are my eyes and ears

true to their report — Lucius Piso? It is he indeed.
Thrice welcome to Palmyra! May a visit from so noble
a house be an augury of good. You are quick indeed
upon the track of your letter. How have you sped by the
way? I need not ask after your own welfare, for I see it,
but I am impatient to learn all that you can tell me of
friends and enemies in Rome. I dare say all this has been
once told to Fausta, but, as a penalty for arriving while I
was from home, it must be repeated for my special pleasure.
But come, that can be done while we sit at table; I
see the supper waits.'

In this pleasant mood did the father of Fausta, and
now, as you know, one of the chief pillars of the province
or kingdom — whichever it must be called — receive
me. I was struck with the fine union in his
appearance and manner of courtly ease, and a noble
Roman frankness. His head, slightly bald, but cast in
the truest mould of manly beauty, would have done honor
to any of his illustrious ancestors; and his figure was entirely
worthy of that faultless crown. I confess I experienced
a pang of regret that one so fitted to sustain and
adorn the greatness of his parent country had chosen to
cast his fortunes so far from the great centre and heart of
the Empire. After the first duties of the table had been
gone through with, and my hunger — real hunger — had
been appeased by the various delicacies which my kind
hostess urged upon me, noways unwilling to receive such
tokens of regard, I took up the questions of Gracchus,
and gave him a full account of our social and political
state in Rome, to all which Fausta, too, lent a greedy ear,
her fine face sparkling with the intelligence which beamed
out from every feature.
It was easy to see how deep
an interest she took in matters to which her sex are so
usually insensible. It is indescribable, the imperial pride

and lofty spirit of independence which at times sat upon
her brow and curled her lip. She seems to me made to
command. She is, indeed, courteous and kind, but you,
not with difficulty, see that she is bold, aspiring and proud,
beyond the common measure of woman. Her beauty is
of this character. It is severe rather than in any sense
soft or feminine. Her features are those of her father,
truly Roman in their outline, and their combined expression
goes to impress every beholder with the truth that
Roman blood alone, and that too of all the Gracchi, runs
in her veins. Her form harmonizes perfectly with the
air and character of the face. It is indicative of great
vigor and decision in every movement; yet it is graceful,
and of such proportions as would suit the most fastidious
Greek. I am thus minute in telling you how Fausta struck
me, because I know the interest you and Lucilia both take
in her, and how you will desire to have from me as exact a
picture as I can draw. Be relieved, my dear friends, as
to the state of my heart, nor indulge in either hopes or
suspicions in this direction. I assure you I am not yet a
captive at the fair feet of Fausta, nor do I think I shall be.
But if such a thing should happen, depend upon my
friendship to give you the earliest intelligence of the event.
Whoever shall obtain the heart of Fausta, will win one of
which a Cæsar might be proud. But to return to our
present interview and its event.

No sooner had I ended my account of the state of affairs
at Rome, than Gracchus expressed, in the strongest terms,
his joy that we were so prosperous. `It agrees,' said he,
`with all that we have lately heard. Aurelian is in truth
entitled to the praise which belongs to a reformer of the
state. The army has not been under such discipline
since the days of Vespasian. He has now, as we learn
by the last arrival of news from the North, by the way of

Antioch, nearly completed the subjection of the Goths,
and Alemanni, and rumors are afloat of an unpleasant nature,
of an Eastern expedition. For this no ground occurs
to me except, possibly, an attempt upon Persia for the
rescue of Valerian, if yet he be living, or for the general
vindication of the honor of Rome against the disgraceful
successes of the Great King. I cannot for one moment
believe that toward Palmyra any other policy will be adopted
than that which has been pursued for the last century
and a half, and emphatically sanctioned, as you well
know, by both Gallienus and Claudius. Standing on the
honorable footing, as nominally a part of the empire of
Rome, but in fact a sovereign and independent power,
we enjoy all that we can desire in the form of political
privileges. Then for our commerce, it could not be more
flourishing, or conducted on more advantageous terms
even to Rome itself. In one word, we are contented,
prosperous, and happy, and the crime of that man would
be great, indeed, who from any motive of personal ambition,
or any policy of state, would disturb our existing
relations of peace and friendship with all the world.'

To this I replied: `I most sincerely trust that no
design, such as you hint at, exists in the mind of
Aurelian. I know him, and know him to be ambitious
and imperious, as he is great in resources and unequalled
in military science, but withal he is a man of wisdom,
and in the main, of justice, too. That he is a true
lover of his country, I am sure; and that the glory
of that country is dearer to him than all other objects —
that it rises in him almost to a species of madness — this
I know, too; and it is from this quarter, if from any, that
danger is to be apprehended. He will have Rome to be
all in all. His desire is that it should once more possess
the unity that it did under the Antonines. This idea

dwelt upon, may lead him into enterprises from which,
however defended on the ground of the empire's glory,
will result in nothing but discredit to himself, and injury
to the state. I, too, have heard the rumours of which
you speak, but I cannot give them one moment's credence;
and I pray most fervently, that springing as they
do, no one knows whence, nor on what authority resting,
they will not be permitted to have the least effect upon
the mind of the Queen, nor upon any of her advisers.
She is now in reality an independent sovereign, reigning
over an immense empire, stretching from Egypt to the
shores of the Euxine — from the Mediterranean to the
Euphrates, — and she still stands upon the records of the
senate as a colleague — even as when Odenatus shared
the throne with her — of the Emperor. This is a great
and a fortunate position. The gods forbid that any intemperance
on the part of the Palmyrenes should rouse
the anger or the jealousy of the fierce Aurelian!' Could
I have said less than this? But I saw in the countenances
of both, while I was speaking, especially in the
honest, expressive one of Fausta, that they could brook
no hint of inferiority or of dependence on the part of
their country — so deep a place has the great Zenobia
secured for herself in the pride and most sacred affections
of this people.

`I will not, with you, noble Piso,' said Gracchus,
`believe that the Emperor will do aught to break up the
present harmony. I will have faith in him; and I shall
use all the influence that I may possess in the affairs of the
state to infuse a spirit of moderation into our acts, and
above all into our language; for one hasty word uttered
in certain quarters may lead to the ruin of kingdoms
that have taken centuries to attain their growth. But
this I say: let there only come over here from the West

the faintest whisper of any purpose on the part of Aurelian
to consider Zenobia as holding the same position in
regard to Rome as Tetricus in Gaul, and that moment
a flame is kindled throughout Palmyra that nothing but
blood can quench. This people, as you well know, has
been a free people from the earliest records of history,
and they will sink under the ruins of their capital and
their country, ere they will bend to a foreign power.'

`That will they! — that will they, indeed!' cried
Fausta; `there is not a Palmyrene who, had he two
lives, would not give one for liberty, and the other for his
good Queen. You do not know Zenobia, Lucius, nor
can you tell, therefore, how reasonable the affection is
which binds every heart to her as to a mother or a sister.'

`But enough of this for the present,' said Gracchus;
`let us leave the affairs of nations, and ascend to those
of private individuals — for I suppose your philosophy
teaches you, as it does me, that individual happiness is
the object for which governments are instituted, and
that they are therefore less than this — let us ascend, I
say, from the policy of Rome and of Aurelian, to the
private affairs of our friend Lucius Piso, for your letter
gives me the privilege of asking you to tell us, in all
frankness and love, what, beside the pleasure of seeing
us, brings you so far from Rome. It is, you hint, a
business of a painful nature. Use me and Fausta, as
you would in Rome the noble Portia and the good Lucilia,
with the same freedom and the same assurance of
our friendship.'

`Do so, indeed,' added Fausta, with affectionate
warmth, `and feel that in addressing us, you are entrusting
your thoughts to true and long-tried friends.'

`I have,' replied I, `but little to communicate, but
that little is great in its interest, and demands immediate

action; and touching what shall be most expedient to be
done, I shall want and shall ask your deliberate counsel.
You are well aware, alas! too well aware, of the cruel
fate of my parent, the truly great Cneius Piso, whom to
name is always a spring of strength to my virtues. With
the unhappy Valerian, to whom he clung to the last, resolved
to die with him, or suffer with him whatever the
fates should decree, he passed into captivity; but of too
proud a spirit to endure the indignities which were
heaped upon the Emperor, and which were threatened
him, he — so we have learned — destroyed himself. He
found an opportunity, however, before he thus nobly
used his power, to exhort my poor brothers not at once,
at least, to follow his example. “You are young,” said
he, “and have more strength than I, and the gods may
interpose and deliver you. Hope dwells with youth, as it
dies with age. Do not despair. I feel that you will one
day return to Rome. For myself, I am a decayed trunk,
at best, and it matters little when I fall, or where I lie.
One thing at least, I cannot bear; it would destroy me
if I did not destroy myself. I am a Roman and a Piso,
and the foot of a Persian shall never plant itself upon
my neck. I die.” My elder brother, thinking example
a more powerful kind of precept than words, no sooner
was assured of the death of his father, than he too
opened his veins, and perished. And so we learned had
Calpurnius done, and we were comparatively happy in
the thought that they had escaped by a voluntary death
the shame of being used as footstools by the haughty
Sapor, and the princes of his court. But a rumor
reached us a few days before I left Rome, that Calpurnius
is yet living. We learn, obscurely, that being
favorably distinguished and secretly favored by the son of
Sapor, he was persuaded to live, and wait for the times
to open a way for his escape. You may imagine both
my grief and my joy on this intelligence. The thought
that he should so long have lain in captivity and imprisonment,
and no step have been taken toward his rescue,
has weighed upon me with a mountain weight of sorrow.
Yet at the same time, I have been supported by the hope
that his deliverance may be effected, and that he may
return to Rome once more, to glad the eyes of the aged
Portia. It is this hope which has brought me to Palmyra,
as perhaps the best point whence to set in motion the
measures which it shall be thought wisest to adopt. I
shall rely much upon your counsel.' No sooner had
I spoken thus, than Fausta quickly exclaimed:

`Oh! father, how easily, were the Queen now in Palmyra,
might we obtain through her the means of approaching
the Persian King with some hope of a successful
appeal to his compassion! — and yet' — She hesitated
and paused.

`I perceive,' said Gracchus, `what it is that checks
your speech. You feel that in this matter Zenobia would
have no power with the Persian Monarch or court.
The two nations are now, it is true, upon friendly
terms; but a deep hatred exists in the heart of Sapor
toward Zenobia. The successive defeats which he suffered,
when Odenatus and his Queen took it upon them to
vindicate the honor of Rome, and revenge the foul indignities
cast upon the unfortunate Valerian, will never be
forgotten; and policy only, not love or regard, keeps the
peace between Persia and Palmyra. Sapor fears the
power of Zenobia, supported, as he knows she would be,
by the strength of Rome; and moreover, he is well aware
that Palmyra serves as a protecting wall between him and
Rome, and that her existence as an independent power is
vital to the best interests of his kingdom. For these reasons

harmony prevails, and in the event of a rupture between
us and Rome, we might with certainty calculate
upon Persia as an ally. Still Sapor is an enemy at heart.
His pride, humbled as it was by that disastrous rout, when
his whole camp and even his wives fell into the hands
of the Royal Odenatus, will never recover from the
wound, and will prompt to acts of retaliation and revenge,
rather than to any deed of kindness. While his public
policy is, and doubtless will continue to be, pacific, his
private feelings are, and ever will be, bitter. I see not
how in this business we can rely with any hope of advantage
upon the interposition of the Queen. If your brother
is ever rescued, it must, I think, be achieved by private
enterprise.'

`Your words,' said I, `have pierced me through with
grief, and dispelled in a moment the brightest visions.
All the way from Rome have I been cheered by the hope
of what the Queen, at your solicitation, would be able to
attempt and accomplish in my behalf. But it is all over.
I feel the truth of what you have urged. I see it — I now
see it—private enterprise can alone effect his deliverance,
and from this moment I devote myself to that work. If
Rome leaves her Emperor to die in captivity, so will not I
my brother. I will go myself to the den of this worse than
barbarian king, and bring thence the loved Calpurnius, or
leave my own body there for that beast to batten on. It
is now, indeed, thirteen years since Calpurnius left me, a
child, in Rome, to join the Emperor in that ill-fated expedition.
But it is with the distinctness of a yesterday's
vision that he now stands before my eyes, as he then stood
that day he parted from us, glittering in his brilliant armor,
and his face just as brilliant with the light of a great
and trusting spirit. As he turned from the last embraces
of the noble Portia, he seized me in his arms, who stood

jingling his sword against his iron greaves, and imprinting
upon my cheek a kiss, bade me grow a man at once,
to take care of the household, while they were gone with
the good Emperor to fight the enemies of Rome in Asia.
He was, as I remember him, of a quick and fiery temper,
but he was always gentle toward me, and has bound me
to him forever.'

`The gods prosper you!' cried Fausta, `as surely they
will. It is a pious work to which you put your hand, and
you will succeed.'

`Do not, Fausta,' said Gracchus, `lend the weight of
your voice to urge our friend to measures which may be
rather rash than wise, and may end only in causing a
greater evil than what already exists. Prudence must
govern us as well as affection. By venturing yourself at
once into the dominion of Persia, upon such an errand, it
is scarcely less than certain that you would perish, and
without effecting your object. We ought to consider, too,
I think, what the condition and treatment of Calpurnius
are, before too great a risk is incurred for his rescue.
He has now, we are to remember, been at the capital of
the great king thirteen years. You have hinted that he
had been kindly regarded by the son of Sapor. Possibly
his captivity amounts to no more than a foreign residence
— a sort of exile. Possibly he may, in this long series of
years, have become changed into a Persian. I understand
your little lip, Fausta, and your indignant frown,
Lucius; but what I suggest is among things possible, it
cannot be denied; and can you deny it? — not so very
unlikely, when you think what the feelings of one must
have been to be so wholly forgotten and abandoned by his
native country, and that country, Rome, the mistress of
the world, who needed but to have stretched forth the half of
her power to have broken for ever the chains of his slavery,

as well as of the thousands who with him have been left to
linger out their lives in bondage. If Calpurnius has been
distinguished by the son of Sapor, his lot, doubtless, has
been greatly lightened, and he may now be living as a
Persian prince. My counsel is, therefore, that the truth
in this regard be first obtained, before the life of another
son, and the only inheritor of so great a name, be put in
jeopardy. But what is the exact sum of what you have
learned, and upon which we may rely, and from which
reason and act?'

`Our knowledge,' I replied, `was derived from a soldier,
who, by a great and happy fortune, escaped and
reached his native Rome. He only knew what he saw
when he was first a captive, and afterward, by chance,
had heard from others. He was, he said, taken to serve
as a slave about the palace of the King, and it was there
that for a space he was an eye-witness to the cruel and
insulting usage of both Valerian and Calpurnius. That
was but too true, he said, which had been reported to us,
that whenever the proud Sapor went forth to mount his
horse, the Emperor was brought, in the face of the whole
court, and of the populace who crowded around, to serve
as his footstool. Clothed in the imperial purple, the unfortunate
Valerian received upon his neck the foot of Sapor,
and bore him to his saddle. It was the same purpose
that Calpurnius was made to serve for the young prince
Hormisdas. But, said the soldier, the prince pitied the
young and noble Roman, and would gladly, at the beginning,
have spared him the indignity put upon him by the
stern command of his haughty and cruel father. He often
found occasion at these times, while standing with his
foot upon his neck, to speak with Calpurnius, and to express
his regrets and his grief for his misfortunes, and promise
redress, and more, if he ever came to the throne. But

the soldier was soon removed from the vicinity of the
Royal palace, and saw no more of either Valerian or Calpurnius.
What came to his ears was, generally, that
while Valerian was retained exclusively for the use of Sapor,
Calpurnius was after a time relinquished as entirely
into the hands of Hormisdas, in whose own palace he
dwelt, but with what portion of freedom he knew not.—
That he was living at the time he escaped, he was certain.
This, Gracchus, is the sum of what we have heard;
in addition only, that the Emperor sank under his misfortunes,
and that his skin, fashioned over some substance so
as exactly to resemble the living man, is preserved by
Sapor, as a monument of his triumph over the legions of
Rome.'

`It is a pitiful story,' said Fausta, as I ended: `for a
brave man it has been a fate worse than death; but having
survived the first shame, I fear me my father's thought
will prove a too true one, and that long absence, and indignation
at neglect, and perhaps gratitude and attachment
to the prince, who seems to have protected him,
will have weaned him from Rome. So that we cannot
suffer you, Lucius, to undertake so long and dangerous
a journey upon so doubtful an errand. But those can be
found, bold and faithful, who for that ample reward with
which you could so easily enrich them, would venture even
into the heart of Ecbatana itself, and bring you back
your brother alive, or advertise you of his apostacy or death.'

`What Fausta says is just,' observed Gracchus, `and
in few words prescribes your course. It will not be a difficult
thing, out of the multitudes of bold spirits who crowd
the capital, Greek, Roman, Syrian, and Arab, to find one
who will do all that you could do, and I may add, both more
and better. You may find those who are familiar with the
route, who know the customs of Persia, who can speak its

language, and are even at home in her capitals, and who
would be infinitely more capable than either you or I, or even
Fausta, to manage to a happy issue an enterprise like this.
Let this then be our decision; and be it now our united
care to find the individual to whom we may commit this
dear but perilous service. And now enough of this. The
city sleeps, and it were better that we slept with it. But
first, my child, bring harmony into our spirits by one of
those wild, sad airs which you are accustomed to sing to
me upon the harp of the Jews. It will dispose Lucius to
pleasant dreams.'

I added my importunities, and Fausta, rising, moved to
an open window, through which the moon was now pouring
a flood of silver light, and seating herself before the
instrument which stood there, first swept its strings with
an easy and graceful hand.

`I wish,' said she, `I could give you the song which
I am going to sing in the language of the Hebrews,
for it agrees better, I think, with the sentiment and the
character of the music, than the softer accents of the
Greek. But every thing is Greek now.'

So saying, she commenced with a prelude more sweetly
and profoundly melancholy than even the wailing of the
night wind among the leafless trees of the forest. This was
followed by — an ode shall I call it?—or a hymn?—for it
was not what we mean by a song. Nor was the music
like any other music I had ever heard, but much more
full of passion; broken, wild, plaintive, triumphant, by
turns, it stirred all the deepest feelings of the heart. It
seemed to be the language of one in captivity, who, refusing
to sing one of the songs of his country for the gratification
of his conquerors, broke out into passionate strains
of patriotism, in which he exalted his desolated home to
the Heavens, and prophesied in the boldest terms her ultimate

restoration to power and glory. The sentiment lost
nothing coming to the ear clothed in the rich music
of Fausta's voice, which rose and sank, swelled and
died away, or was full of tears or joy, as agreed with the
theme of the poet. She was herself the poet, and the
captive, and the Jew, so wholly did she abandon herself to
the sway of the thoughts which she was expressing. One
idea alone, however, had possessed me while she sang —
to which, the moment she paused, I first gave utterance.
`And think you, Fausta,' said I, `that while the captive
Jew remembers his country, the captive Roman will forget
his? Never! Calpurnius, if he lives, lives a Roman.
For this I thank your song. Melancholy and sad
in itself, it has bred joy in my soul. I shall now sleep
soundly.' So saying, we separated.

Thus was passed my first evening in Palmyra.