of Brenhilda, "believe me, fair lady, I am very willing to urge your
gentleness. But although I shall not venture to say any thing of those
superior and benevolent powers to whom you ascribe the management of
the world, you will surely not take offence at my noticing those base
superstitions which have been adopted in explanation of what is called
by the Magi, the Evil Principle. Was there ever received into a human
creed, a being so mean - almost so ridiculous - as the Christian Satan? A
goatish figure and limbs, with grotesque features, formed to express
the most execrable passions; a degree of power scarce inferior to that
of the Deity; and a talent at the same time scarce equal to that of the
stupidest of the lowest order! What is he, this being, who is at least
the second arbiter of the human race, save an immortal spirit, with the
petty spleen and spite of a vindictive old man or old woman?"
Agelastes made a singular pause in this part of his discourse. A mirror
of considerable size hung in the apartment, so that the philosopher
could see in its reflection the figure of Brenhilda, and remark the
change of her countenance, though she had averted her face from him in
hatred of the doctrines which he promulgated. On this glass the
philosopher had his eyes naturally fixed, and he was confounded at
perceiving a figure glide from behind the shadow of a curtain, and
glare at him with the supposed mien and expression of the Satan of
monkish mythology, or a satyr of the heathen age.
"Man!" said Brenhilda, whose attention was attracted by this
extraordinary apparition, as it seemed, of the fiend, "have thy wicked
words, and still more wicked thoughts, brought the devil amongst us? If
so, dismiss him instantly, else, by Our Lady of the Broken Lances! thou
shalt know better than at present, what is the temper of a Frankish
maiden, when in presence of the fiend himself, and those who pretend
skill to raise him! I wish not to enter into a contest unless
compelled; but if I am obliged to join battle with an enemy so horrible,
believe me, no one shall say that Brenildha feared him."
Agelastes, after looking with surprise and horror at the figure as
reflected in the glass, turned back his head to examine the substance,
of which the reflection was so strange. The object, however, had
disappeared behind the curtain, under which it probably lay hid, and it
was after a minute or two that the half-gibing, half-scowling
countenance showed itself again in the same position in the mirror.
"By the gods!" said Agelastes -
"In whom but now," said the Countess, "you professed unbelief."
"By the gods!" repeated Agelastes, in part recovering himself, "it is
Sylvan! that singular mockery of humanity, who was said to have been
brought from Taprobana. I warrant he also believes in his jolly god Pan,
or the veteran Sylvanus. He is to the uninitiated a creature whose
appearance is full of terrors, but he shrinks before the philosopher
like ignorance before knowledge." So saying, he with one hand pulled
down the curtain, under which the animal had nestled itself when it
entered from the garden-window of the pavilion, and with the other, in
which he had a staff uplifted, threatened to chastise the creature,
with the words, - "How now, Sylvanus! what insolence is this? - To your
place!"
As, in uttering these words, he struck the animal, the blow unluckily
lighted upon his wounded hand, and recalled its bitter smart. The wild
temper of the creature returned, unsubdued for the moment by any awe of
man; uttering a fierce, and, at the same time, stifled cry, it flew on
the philosopher, and clasped its strong and sinewy arms about his
throat with the utmost fury. The old man twisted and struggled to
deliver himself from the creature's grasp, but in vain. Sylvan kept
hold of his prize, compressed his sinewy arms, and abode by his purpose
of not quitting his hold of the philosopher's throat till he had
breathed his last. Two more bitter yells, accompanied each with a
desperate contortion of the countenance, and squeeze of the hands,
concluded, in less than five minutes, the dreadful strife. Agelastes
lay dead upon the ground, and his assassin Sylvan, springing from the
body as if terrified and alarmed at what he had done, made his escape
by the window. The Countess stood in astonishment, not knowing exactly
whether she had witnessed a supernatural display of the judgment of
Heaven, or an instance of its vengeance by mere mortal means. Her new
attendant Vexhelia was no less astonished, though her acquaintance with
the animal was considerably more intimate.
"Lady," she said, "that gigantic creature is an animal of great
strength, resembling mankind in form, but huge in its size, and,
encouraged by its immense power, sometimes malevolent in its
intercourse with mortals. I have heard the Varangians often talk of it
as belonging to the Imperial museum. It is fitting we remove the body
of this unhappy man, and hide it in a plot of shrubbery in the garden.
It is not likely that he will be missed to-night, and to-morrow there
will be other matter astir, which will probably prevent much enquiry
about him." The Countess Brenhilda assented, for she was not one of
those timorous females to whom the countenances of the dead are objects
of terror.
Trusting to the parole which she had given, Agelastes had permitted the
Countess and her attendant the freedom of his gardens, of that part at
least adjacent to the pavilion. They therefore were in little risk of
interruption as they bore forth the dead body between them, and without
much trouble disposed of it in the thickest part of one of the bosquets
with which the garden was studded.
As they returned to their place of abode or confinement, the Countess,
half speaking to herself, half addressing Vexhelia, said, "I am sorry
for this; not that the infamous wretch did not deserve the full
punishment of Heaven coming upon him in the very moment of blasphemy
and infidelity, but because the courage and truth of the unfortunate
Brenhilda may be brought into suspicion, as his slaughter took place
when he was alone with her and her attendant, and as no one was witness
of the singular manner in which the old blasphemer met his end. - Thou
knowest," she added, addressing herself to Heaven - "thou! blessed Lady
of the Broken Lances, the protectress both of Brenhilda and her husband,
well knowest, that whatever faults may be mine, I am free from the
slightest suspicion of treachery; and into thy hands I put my cause,
with a perfect reliance upon thy wisdom and bounty to bear evidence in
my favour." So saying, they returned to the lodge unseen, and with
pious and submissive prayers, the Countess closed that eventful evening.
CHAPTER THE TWENTY-SIXTH.
Will you hear of a Spanish lady,
How she wooed an Englishman?
Garments gay, as rich as may be,
Deck'd with jewels she had on.
Of a comely countenance and grace was she,
And by birth and parentage of high degree.
OLD BALLAD.
We left Alexius Comnenus after he had unloaded his conscience in the
ears of the Patriarch, and received from him a faithful assurance of
the pardon and patronage of the national Church. He took leave of the
dignitary with some exulting exclamations, so unexplicitly expressed,
however, that it was by no means easy to conceive the meaning of what
he said. His first enquiry, when he reached the Blacquernal, being for
his daughter, he was directed to the room encrusted with beautifully
carved marble, from which she herself, and many of her race, derived
the proud appellation of _Porphyrogenita_, or born in the purple.
Her countenance was clouded with anxiety, which, at the sight of her
father, broke out into open and uncontrollable grief.
"Daughter," said the Emperor, with a harshness little common to his
manner, and a seriousness which he sternly maintained, instead of
sympathizing with his daughter's affliction, "as you would prevent the
silly fool with whom you are connected, from displaying himself to the
public both as an ungrateful monster and a traitor, you will not fail
to exhort him, by due submission, to make his petition for pardon,
accompanied with a full confession of his crimes, or, by my sceptre and
my crown, he shall die the death! Nor will I pardon any who rushes upon
his doom in an open tone of defiance, under such a standard of
rebellion as my ungrateful son-in-law has hoisted.
"What can you require of me, father?" said the Princess. "Can you
expect that I am to dip my own hands in the blood of this unfortunate
man; or wilt thou seek a revenge yet more bloody than that which was
exacted by the deities of antiquity, upon those criminals who offended
against their divine power?"
"Think not so, my daughter!" said the Emperor; "but rather believe that
thou hast the last opportunity afforded by my filial affection, of
rescuing, perhaps from death, that silly fool thy husband, who has so
richly deserved it."
"My father," said the Princess, "God knows it is not at your risk that
I would wish to purchase the life of Nicephorus; but he has been the
father of my children, though they are now no more, and women cannot
forget that such a tie has existed, even though it has been broken by
fate. Permit me only to hope that the unfortunate culprit shall have an
opportunity of retrieving his errors; nor shall it, believe me, be my
fault, if he resumes those practices, treasonable at once, and
unnatural, by which his life is at present endangered."
"Follow me, then, daughter," said the Emperor, "and know, that to thee
alone I am about to intrust a secret, upon which the safety of my life
and crown, as well as the pardon of my son-in-law's life, will be found
eventually to depend."
He then assumed in haste the garment of a slave of the Seraglio, and
commanded his daughter to arrange her dress in a more succinct form,
and to take in her hand a lighted lamp.
"Whither are we going, my father?" said Anna Comnena.
"It matters not," replied her father, "since my destiny calls me, and
since thine ordains thee to be my torch-bearer. Believe it, and record
it, if thou darest, in thy book, that Alexius Comnenus does not,
without alarm, descend into those awful dungeons - which his
predecessors built for men, even when his intentions are innocent, and
free from harm. - Be silent, and should we meet any inhabitant of those
inferior regions, speak not a word nor make any observation upon his
appearance."
Passing through the intricate apartments of the palace, they now came
to that large hall through which Hereward had passed on the first night
of his introduction to the place of Anna's recitation called the Temple
of the Muses. It was constructed, as we have said, of black marble,
dimly illuminated. At the upper end of the apartment was a small altar,
on which was laid some incense, while over the smoke was suspended, as
if projecting from the wall, two imitations of human hands and arms,
which were but imperfectly seen.
At the bottom of this hall, a small iron door led to a narrow and
winding staircase, resembling a draw-well in shape and size, the steps
of which were excessively steep, and which the Emperor, after a solemn
gesture to his daughter commanding her attendance, began to descend
with the imperfect light, and by the narrow and difficult steps by
which those who visited the under regions of the Blacquernal seemed to
bid adieu to the light of day. Door after door they passed in their
descent, leading, it was probable, to different ranges of dungeons,
from which was obscurely heard the stifled voice of groans and sighs,
such as attracted Hereward's attention on a former occasion. The
Emperor took no notice of these signs of human misery, and three
stories or ranges of dungeons had been already passed, ere the father
and daughter arrived at the lowest story of the building, the base of
which was the solid rock, roughly carved, upon which were erected the
side-walls and arches of solid but unpolished marble.
"Here," said Alexius Comnenus, "all hope, all expectation takes
farewell, at the turn of a hinge or the grating of a lock. Yet shall
not this be always the case - the dead shall revive and resume their
right, and the disinherited of these regions shall again prefer their
claim to inhabit the upper world. If I cannot entreat Heaven to my
assistance, be assured, my daughter, that rather than be the poor
animal which I have stooped to be thought, and even to be painted in
thy history, I would sooner brave every danger of the multitude which
now erect themselves betwixt me and safety. Nothing is resolved save
that I will live and die an Emperor; and thou, Anna, be assured, that
if there is power in the beauty or in the talents, of which so much has
been boasted, that power shall be this evening exercised to the
advantage of thy parent, from whom it is derived."
"What is it that you mean, Imperial father? - Holy Virgin! is this the
promise you made me to save the life of the unfortunate Nicephorus?"
"And so I will," said the Emperor; "and I am now about that action of
benevolence. But think not I will once more warm in my bosom the
household snake which had so nearly stung me to death. No, daughter, I
have provided for thee a fitting husband, in one who is able to
maintain and defend the rights of the Emperor thy father; - and beware
how thou opposest an obstacle to what is my pleasure! for behold these
walls of marble, though unpolished, and recollect it is as possible to
die within the marble as to be born there."
The Princess Anna Comnena was frightened at seeing her father in a
state of mind entirely different from any which she had before
witnessed. "O, heaven! that my mother were here!" she ejaculated, in
the terror of something she hardly knew what.
"Anna," said the Emperor, "your fears and your screams are alike in
vain. I am one of those, who, on ordinary occasions, hardly nourish a
wish of my own, and account myself obliged to those who, like my wife
and daughter, take care to save me all the trouble of free judgment.
But when the vessel is among the breakers, and the master is called to
the helm, believe that no meaner hand shall be permitted to interfere
with him, nor will the wife and daughter, whom he indulged in
prosperity, be allowed to thwart his will while he can yet call it his
own. Thou couldst scarcely fail to understand that I was almost
prepared to have given thee, as a mark of my sincerity, to yonder
obscure Varangian, without asking question of either birth or blood.
Thou mayst hear when I next promise thee to a three years' inhabitant
of these vaults, who shall be Caesar in Briennius's stead, if I can
move him to accept a princess for his bride, and an imperial crown for
his inheritance, in place of a starving dungeon."
"I tremble at your words, father," said Anna Comnena; "how canst thou
trust a man who has felt thy cruelty? - How canst thou dream that aught
can ever in sincerity reconcile thee to one whom thou hast deprived of
his eyesight?"
"Care not for that," said Alexius; "he becomes mine, or he shall never
know what it is to be again his own. - And thou, girl, mayst rest
assured that, if I will it, thou art next day the bride of my present
captive, or thou retirest to the most severe nunnery, never again to
mix with society. Be silent, therefore, and await thy doom, as it shall
come, and hope not that thy utmost endeavours can avert the current of
thy destiny."
As he concluded this singular dialogue, in which he had assumed a tone
to which his daughter was a stranger, and before which she trembled, he
passed on through more than one strictly fastened door, while his
daughter, with a faltering step, illuminated him on the obscure road.
At length he found admittance by another passage into the cell in which
Ursel was confined, and found him reclining in hopeless misery, - all
those expectations having faded from his heart which the Count of Paris
had by his indomitable gallantry for a time excited. He turned his
sightless eyes towards the place where he heard the moving of bolts and
the approach of steps.
"A new feature," he said, "in my imprisonment - a man comes with a heavy
and determined step, and a woman or a child with one that scarcely
presses the floor! - is it my death that you bring? - Believe me, that I
have lived long enough in these dungeons to bid my doom welcome."
"It is not thy death, noble Ursel," said the Emperor, in a voice
somewhat disguised. Life, liberty, whatever the world has to give, is
placed by the Emperor Alexius at the feet of his noble enemy, and he
trusts that many years of happiness and power, together with the
command of a large share of the empire, will soon obliterate the
recollection of the dungeons of the Blacquernal."
"It cannot be," said Ursel, with a sigh. "He upon whose eyes the sun
has set even at middle day, can have nothing left to hope from the most
advantageous change of circumstances."
"You are not entirely assured of that," said the Emperor; "allow us to
convince you that what is intended towards you is truly favourable and
liberal, and I hope you will be rewarded by finding that there is more
possibility of amendment in your case, than your first apprehensions
are willing to receive. Make an effort, and try whether your eyes are
not sensible of the light of the lamp."
"Do with, me," said Ursel, "according to your pleasure; I have neither
strength to remonstrate, nor the force of mind equal to make me set
your cruelty at defiance. Of something like light I am sensible; but
whether it is reality or illusion, I cannot determine. If you are come
to deliver me from this living sepulchre, I pray God to requite you;
and if, under such deceitful pretence, you mean to take my life, I can
only commend my soul to Heaven, and the vengeance due to my death to
Him who can behold the darkest places in which injustice can shroud
itself."
So saying, and the revulsion of his spirits rendering him unable to
give almost any other signs of existence, Ursel sunk back upon his seat
of captivity, and spoke not another word during the time that Alexius
disembarrassed him of those chains which had so long hung about him,
that they almost seemed to make a part of his person.
"This is an affair in which thy aid can scarce be sufficient, Anna,"
said the Emperor; "it would have been well if you and I could have
borne him into the open air by our joint strength, for there is little
wisdom in showing the secrets of this prison-house to those to whom
they are not yet known; nevertheless, go, my child, and at a short
distance from the head of the staircase which we descended, thou wilt
find Edward, the bold and trusty Varangian, who on your communicating
to him my orders, will come hither and render his assistance; and see
that you send also the experienced leech, Douban." Terrified, half-
stifled, and half struck with horror, the lady yet felt a degree of
relief from the somewhat milder tone in which her father addressed her.
With tottering steps, yet in some measure encouraged by the tenor of
her instructions, she ascended the staircase which yawned upon these
infernal dungeons. As she approached the top, a large and strong figure
threw its broad shadow between the lamp and the opening of the hall.
Frightened nearly to death at the thoughts of becoming the wife of a
squalid wretch like Ursel, a moment of weakness seized upon the
Princess's mind, and, when she considered the melancholy option which
her father had placed before her, she could not but think that the
handsome and gallant Varangian, who had already rescued the royal
family from such imminent danger, was a fitter person with whom to
unite herself, if she must needs make a second choice, than the
singular and disgusting being whom her father's policy had raked from
the bottom of the Blacquernal dungeons.
I will not say of poor Anna Comnena, who was a timid but not an
unfeeling woman, that she would have embraced such a proposal, had not
the life of her present husband Nicephorus Briennius been in extreme
danger; and it was obviously the determination of the Emperor, that if
he spared him, it should be on the sole condition of unloosing his
daughter's hand, and binding her to some one of better faith, and
possessed of a greater desire to prove an affectionate son-in-law.
Neither did the plan of adopting the Varangian as a second husband,
enter decidedly into the mind of the Princess. The present was a moment
of danger, in which her rescue to be successful must be sudden, and
perhaps, if once achieved, the lady might have had an opportunity of
freeing herself both from Ursel and the Varangian, without disjoining
either of them from her father's assistance, or of herself losing it.
At any rate, the surest means of safety were to secure, if possible,
the young soldier, whose features and appearance were of a kind which
rendered the task no way disagreeable to a beautiful woman. The schemes
of conquest are so natural to the fair sex, and the whole idea passed
so quickly through Anna Comnena's mind, that having first entered while
the soldier's shadow was interposed between her and the lamp, it had
fully occupied her quick imagination, when, with deep reverence and
great surprise at her sudden appearance on the ladder of Acheron, the
Varangian advancing, knelt down, and lent his arm to the assistance of
the fair lady, in order to help her out of the dreary staircase.
"Dearest Hereward," said the lady, with a degree of intimacy which
seemed unusual, "how much do I rejoice, in this dreadful night, to have
fallen under your protection! I have been in places which the spirit of
hell appears to have contrived for the human race." The alarm of the
Princess, the familiarity of a beautiful woman, who, while in mortal
fear, seeks refuge, like a frightened dove, in the bosom of the strong
and the brave, must be the excuse of Anna Comnena for the tender
epithet with which she greeted Hereward; nor, if he had chosen to
answer in the same tone, which, faithful as he was, might have proved
the case if the meeting had chanced before he saw Bertha, would the
daughter of Alexius have been, to say the truth, irreconcilably
offended. Exhausted as she was, she suffered herself to repose upon,
the broad breast and shoulder of the Anglo-Saxon; nor did she make an
attempt to recover herself, although the decorum of her sex and station
seemed to recommend such an exertion. Hereward was obliged himself to
ask her, with the unimpassioned and reverential demeanour of a private
soldier to a princess, whether he ought to summon her female
attendants? to which she faintly uttered a negative. "No, no," said she,
"I have a duty to execute for my father, and I must not summon eye-
witnesses; - he knows me to be in safety, Hereward, since he knows I am
with thee; and if I am a burden to you in my present state of weakness,
I shall soon recover, if you will set me down upon the marble steps."
"Heaven forbid, lady," said Hereward, "that I were thus neglectful of
your Highness's gracious health! I see your two young ladies, Astarte
and Violante, are in quest of you - Permit me to summon them hither, and
I will keep watch upon you, if you are unable to retire to your chamber,
where, methinks, the present disorder of your nerves will be most
properly treated."
"Do as thou wilt, barbarian," said the Princess, rallying herself, with
a certain degree of pique, arising perhaps from her not thinking more
_dramatis personae_ were appropriate to the scene, than the two
who were already upon the stage. Then, as if for the first time,
appearing to recollect the message with which she had been commissioned,
she exhorted the Varangian to repair instantly to her father.
On such occasions, the slightest circumstances have their effect on the
actors. The Anglo-Saxon was sensible that the Princess was somewhat
offended, though whether she was so, on account of her being actually
in Hereward's arms, or whether the cause of her anger was the being
nearly discovered there by the two young maidens, the sentinel did not
presume to guess, but departed for the gloomy vaults to join Alexius,
with the never-failing double-edged axe, the bane of many a Turk,
glittering upon his shoulder.
Astarte and her companion had been despatched by the Empress Irene in
search of Anna Comnena, through those apartments of the palace which
she was wont to inhabit. The daughter of Alexius could nowhere be found,
although the business on which they were seeking her was described by
the Empress as of the most pressing nature. Nothing, however, in a
palace, passes altogether unespied, so that the Empress's messengers at
length received information that their mistress and the Emperor had
been seen to descend that gloomy access to the dungeons, which, by
allusion to the classical infernal regions, was termed the Pit of
Acheron. They came thither, accordingly, and we have related the
consequences. Hereward thought it necessary to say that her Imperial
Highness had swooned upon being suddenly brought into the upper air.
The Princess, on the other part, briskly shook off her juvenile
attendants, and declared herself ready to proceed to the chamber of her
mother. The obeisance which she made Hereward at parting, had something
in it of haughtiness, yet evidently qualified by a look of friendship
and regard. As she passed an apartment in which some of the royal
slaves were in waiting, she addressed to one of them, an old
respectable man, of medical skill, a private and hurried order,
desiring him to go to the assistance of her father, whom he would find
at the bottom of the staircase called the Pit of Acheron, and to take
his scimitar along with him. To hear, as usual, was to obey, and Douban,
for that was his name, only replied by that significant sign which
indicates immediate acquiescence. In the meantime, Anna Comnena herself
hastened onward to her mother's apartments, in which she found the
Empress alone.
"Go hence, maidens," said Irene, "and do not let any one have access to
these apartments, even if the Emperor himself should command it. Shut
the door," she said, "Anna Comnena; and if the jealousy of the stronger
sex do not allow us the masculine privileges of bolts and bars, to
secure the insides of our apartments, let us avail ourselves, as
quickly as may be, of such opportunities as are permitted us; and
remember, Princess, that however implicit your duty to your father, it
is yet more so to me, who am of the same sex with thyself, and may
truly call thee, even according to the letter, blood of my blood, and
bone of my bone. Be assured thy father knows not, at this moment, the
feelings of a woman. Neither he nor any man alive can justly conceive
the pangs of the heart which beats under a woman's robe. These men,
Anna, would tear asunder without scruple the tenderest ties of
affection, the whole structure of domestic felicity, in which lie a
woman's cares, her joy, her pain, her love, and her despair. Trust,
therefore, to me, my daughter, and believe me, I will at once save thy
father's crown and thy happiness. The conduct of thy husband has been
wrong, most cruelly wrong; but, Anna, he is a man - and in calling him
such, I lay to his charge, as natural frailties, thoughtless treachery,
wanton infidelity, every species of folly and inconsistency, to which
his race is subject. You ought not, therefore, to think of his faults,
unless it be to forgive them."
"Madam," said Anna Comnena, "forgive me if I remind you that you
recommend to a princess, born in the purple itself, a line of conduct
which would hardly become the female who carries the pitcher for the
needful supply of water to the village well. All who are around me have
been taught to pay me the obeisance due to my birth, and while this
Nicephorus Briennius crept on his knees to your daughter's hand, which
you extended towards him, he was rather receiving the yoke of a
mistress than accepting a household alliance with a wife. He has
incurred his doom, without a touch even of that temptation which may be
pled by lesser culprits in his condition; and if it is the will of my
father that he should die, or suffer banishment, or imprisonment, for
the crime he has committed, it is not the business of Anna Comnena to
interfere, she being the most injured among the imperial family, who
have in so many, and such gross respects, the right to complain of his
falsehood."
"Daughter," replied the Empress, "so far I agree with you, that the
treason of Nicephorus towards your father and myself has been in a
great degree unpardonable; nor do I easily see on what footing, save
that of generosity, his life could be saved. But still you are yourself
in different circumstances from me, and may, as an affectionate and
fond wife, compare the intimacies of your former habits with the bloody
change which is so soon to be the consequence and the conclusion of his
crimes. He is possessed of that person and of those features which
women most readily recall to their memory, whether alive or dead. Think
what it will cost you to recollect that the rugged executioner received
his last salute, - that the shapely neck had no better repose than the
rough block - that the tongue, the sound of which you used to prefer to
the choicest instruments of music, is silent in the dust!"
Anna, who was not insensible to the personal graces of her husband, was
much affected by this forcible appeal. "Why distress me thus, mother?"
she replied in a weeping accent. "Did I not feel as acutely as you
would have me to do, this moment, however awful, would be easily borne.
I had but to think of him as he is, to contrast his personal qualities
with those of the mind, by which they are more than overbalanced, and
resign myself to his deserved fate with unresisting submission to my
father's will."
"And that," said the Empress, "would be to bind thee, by his sole fiat,
to some obscure wretch, whose habits of plotting and intriguing had, by
some miserable chance, given him the opportunity of becoming of
importance to the Emperor, and who is, therefore, to be rewarded by the
hand of Anna Comnena."
"Do not think so meanly of me, madam," said the Princess - "I know, as
well as ever Grecian maiden did, how I should free myself from
dishonour; and, you may trust me, you shall never blush for your
daughter."
"Tell me not that," said the Empress, "since I shall blush alike for
the relentless cruelty which gives up a once beloved husband to an
ignominious death, and for the passion, for which I want a name, which
would replace him by an obscure barbarian from the extremity of Thule,
or some wretch escaped from the Blacquernal dungeons."
The Princess was astonished to perceive that her mother was acquainted
with the purposes, even the most private, which her father had formed
for his governance during this emergency. She was ignorant that Alexius
and his royal consort, in other respects living together with a decency
ever exemplary in people of their rank, had, sometimes, on interesting
occasions, family debates, in which the husband, provoked by the
seeming unbelief of his partner, was tempted to let her guess more of
his real purposes than he would have coolly imparted of his own calm
choice.
The Princess was affected at the anticipation of the death of her
husband, nor could this have been reasonably supposed to be otherwise;
but she was still more hurt and affronted by her mother taking it for
granted that she designed upon the instant to replace the Caesar by an
uncertain, and at all events an unworthy successor. Whatever
considerations had operated to make Hereward her choice, their effect
was lost when the match was placed in this odious and degrading point
of view; besides which is to be remembered, that women almost
instinctively deny their first thoughts in favour of a suitor, and
seldom willingly reveal them, unless time and circumstance concur to
favour them. She called Heaven therefore passionately to witness, while
she repelled the charge.
"Bear witness," she said, "Our Lady, Queen of Heaven! Bear witness,
saints and martyrs all, ye blessed ones, who are, more than ourselves,
the guardians of our mental purity! that I know no passion which I dare
not avow, and that if Nicephorus's life depended on my entreaty to God
and men, all his injurious acts towards me disregarded and despised, it
should be as long as Heaven gave to those servants whom it snatched
from the earth without suffering the pangs of mortality!"
"You have sworn boldly," said the Empress. "See, Anna Comnena, that you
keep your word, for believe me it will be tried."
"What will be tried, mother?" said the Princess; "or what have I to do
to pronounce the doom of the Caesar, who is not subject to my power?"
"I will show you," said the Empress, gravely; and, leading her towards
a sort of wardrobe, which formed a closet in the wall, she withdrew a
curtain which hung before it, and placed before her her unfortunate
husband, Nicephorus Briennius, half-attired, with his sword drawn in
his hand. Looking upon him as an enemy, and conscious of some schemes
with respect to him which had passed through her mind in the course of
these troubles, the Princess screamed faintly, upon perceiving him so
near her with a weapon in his hand.
"Be more composed," said the Empress, "or this wretched man, if
discovered, falls no less a victim to thy idle fears than to thy
baneful revenge."
Nicephorus at this speech seemed to have adopted his cue, for, dropping
the point of his sword, and falling on his knees before the Princess,
he clasped his hands to entreat for mercy.
"What hast thou to ask from me?" said his wife, naturally assured, by
her husband's prostration, that the stronger force was upon her own
side - "what hast thou to ask from me, that outraged gratitude, betrayed
affection, the most solemn vows violated, and the fondest ties of
nature torn asunder like the spider's broken web, will permit thee to
put in words for very shame?"
"Do not suppose, Anna," replied the suppliant, "that I am at this
eventful period of my life to play the hypocrite, for the purpose of
saving the wretched remnant of a dishonoured existence. I am but
desirous to part in charity with thee, to make my peace with Heaven,
and to nourish the last hope of making my way, though burdened with
many crimes, to those regions in which alone I can find thy beauty, thy
talents, equalled at least, if not excelled."
"You hear him, daughter?" said Irene; "his boon is for forgiveness
alone; thy condition is the more godlike, since thou mayst unite the
safety of his life with the pardon of his offences."
"Thou art deceived, mother," answered Anna. "It is not mine to pardon
his guilt, far less to remit his punishment. You have taught me to
think of myself as future ages shall know me; what will they say of me,
those future ages, when I am described as the unfeeling daughter, who
pardoned the intended assassin of her father, because she saw in him
her own unfaithful husband?"
"See there," said the Caesar, "is not that, most serene Empress, the
very point of despair? and have I not in vain offered my life-blood to
wipe out the stain of parricide and ingratitude? Have I not also
vindicated myself from the most unpardonable part of the accusation,
which charged me with attempting the murder of the godlike Emperor?
Have I not sworn by all that is sacred to man, that my purpose went no
farther than to sequestrate Alexius for a little time from the fatigues
of empire, and place him where he should quietly enjoy ease and
tranquillity? while, at the same time, his empire should be as
implicitly regulated by himself, his sacred pleasure being transmitted
through me, as in any respect, or at any period, it had ever been?"
"Erring man!" said the Princess, "hast thou approached so near to the
footstool of Alexius Comnenus, and durst thou form so false an estimate
of him, as to conceive it possible that he would consent to be a mere
puppet by whose intervention you might have brought his empire into
submission? Know that the blood of Comnenus is not so poor; my father
would have resisted the treason in arms; and by the death of thy
benefactor only couldst thou have gratified the suggestions of thy
criminal ambition."
"Be such your belief," said the Caesar; "I have said enough for a life
which is not and ought not to be dear to me. Call your guards, and let
them take the life of the unfortunate Briennius, since it has become
hateful to his once beloved Anna Comnena. Be not afraid that any
resistance of mine shall render the scene of my apprehension dubious or
fatal. Nicephorus Briennius is Caesar no longer, and he thus throws at
the feet of his Princess and spouse, the only poor means which he has
of resisting the just doom which is therefore at her pleasure to pass."
He cast his sword before the feet of the Princess, while Irene
exclaimed, weeping, or seeming to weep bitterly, "I have indeed read of
such scenes! but could I ever have thought that my own daughter would
have been the principal actress in one of them - could I ever have
thought that her mind, admired by every one as a palace for the
occupation of Apollo and the Muses, should not have had room enough for
the humbler, but more amiable virtue of feminine charity and compassion,
which builds itself a nest in the bosom of the lowest village girl? Do
thy gifts, accomplishments, and talents, spread hardness as well as
polish over thy heart? If so, a hundred times better renounce them all,
and retain in their stead those gentle and domestic virtues which are
the first honours of the female heart. A woman who is pitiless, is a
worse monster than one who is unsexed by any other passion."
"What would you have me do?" said Anna. "You, mother, ought to know
better than I, that the life of my father is hardly consistent with the
existence of this bold and cruel man. O, I am sure he still meditates
his purpose of conspiracy! He that could deceive a woman in the manner
he has done me, will not relinquish a plan which is founded upon the
death of his benefactor."
"You do me injustice, Anna," said Briennius, starting up, and
imprinting a kiss upon her lips ere she was aware. "By this caress, the
last that will pass between us, I swear, that if in my life I have
yielded to folly, I have, notwithstanding, never been guilty of a
treason of the heart towards a woman as superior to the rest of the
female world in talents and accomplishments, as in personal beauty."
The Princess, much softened, shook her head, as she replied - "Ah,
Nicephorus! - such were once your words! such, perhaps, were then your
thoughts! But who, or what, shall now warrant to me the veracity of
either?"
"Those very accomplishments, and that very beauty itself," replied
Nicephorus.
"And if more is wanting," said Irene, "thy mother will enter her
security for him. Deem her not an insufficient pledge in this affair;
she is thy mother, and the wife of Alexius Comnenus, interested beyond
all human beings in the growth and increase of the power and dignity of
her husband and her child; and one who sees on this occasion an
opportunity for exercising generosity, for soldering up the breaches of