The Twilight of the Gods, and Other Tales Part 12

"_She_!" exclaimed Photinius.

"Don't you know _that_?" responded Eustathius, with an air and manner that plainly said, "You don't know much."

Humbled and ashamed, Photinius nevertheless wisely stooped to avow his nescience, and flattering his rival on his superior penetration, led him to divulge the State secret that the handsome cupbearer h.e.l.ladius was but the disguise of the lovely h.e.l.ladia, the object of Basil's tenderest affection, and whose romantic attachment to his person had already frustrated more conspiracies than the aged plotter could reckon up.

This intelligence made Photinius for a season exceedingly thoughtful. He had not deemed Basil of an amorous complexion. At length he sent for his daughter, the beautiful and virtuous Euprepia, who from time to time visited him in the monastery.

"Daughter," he said, "it appears to me that the time has now arrived when thou mayest with propriety present a pet.i.tion to the Emperor on behalf of thy unfortunate father. Here is the doc.u.ment. It is, I flatter myself, composed with no ordinary address; nevertheless I will not conceal from thee that I place my hopes rather on thy beauty of person than on my beauty of style. Shake down thy hair and dishevel it, so!--that is excellent.

Remember to tear thy robe some little in the poignancy of thy woe, and to lose a sandal. Tears and sobs of course thou hast always at command, but let not the frenzy of thy grief render thee wholly inarticulate. Here is a slight memorandum of what is most fitting for thee to say: thy old nurse's instructions will do the rest. Light a candle for St. Sergius, and watch for a favourable opportunity."

Euprepia was upright, candid, and loyal; but the best of women has something of the actress in her nature; and her histrionic talent was stimulated by her filial affection. Basil was for a moment fairly carried away by the consummate fact of her performance and the genuine feeling to her appeal; but he was himself again by the time he had finished perusing his late minister's long-winded and mendacious memorial.

"What manner of woman was thy mother?" he inquired kindly

Euprepia was eloquent in praise of her deceased parent's perfections of mind and person.

"Then I can believe thee Photinius's daughter, which I might otherwise have doubted," returned Basil. "As concerns him, I can only say, if he feels himself innocent, let him come out of sanctuary, and stand his trial. But I will give thee a place at Court."

This was about all that Photinius hoped to obtain, and he joyfully consented to his daughter's entering the Imperial court, exulting at having got in the thin end of the wedge. She was attached to the person of the Emperor's sister-in-law, the "Slayer of the Bulgarians" himself being a most determined bachelor.

Time wore on. Euprepia's opportunities of visiting her father were less frequent than formerly. At last she came, looking thoroughly miserable, distracted, and forlorn.

"What ails thee, child?" he inquired anxiously.

"Oh, father, in what a frightful position do I find myself!"

"Speak," he said, "and rely on my counsel."

"When I entered the Court," she proceeded, "I found at first but one human creature I could love or trust, and he--let me so call him--seemed to make up for the deficiencies of all the rest. It was the cupbearer h.e.l.ladius."

"I hope he is still thy friend," interrupted Photinius. "The good graces of an Imperial cupbearer are always important, and I would have bought those of h.e.l.ladius with a myriad of bezants."

"They were not to be thus obtained, father," said she. "The purest disinterestedness, the n.o.blest integrity, the most unselfish devotion, were the distinction of my friend. And such beauty! I cannot, I must not conceal that my heart was soon entirely his. But--most strange it seemed to me then--it was long impossible for me to tell whether h.e.l.ladius loved me or loved me not. The most perfect sympathy existed between us: we seemed one heart and one soul: and yet, and yet, h.e.l.ladius never gave the slightest indication of the sentiments which a young man might be supposed to entertain for a young girl. Vainly did I try every innocent wile that a modest maiden may permit herself: he was ever the friend, never the lover.

At length, after long pining between despairing fondness and wounded pride, I myself turned away, and listened to one who left me in no doubt of the sincerity of his pa.s.sion."

"Who?"

"The Emperor! And, to shorten the story of my shame, I became his mistress."

"The saints be praised!" shouted Photinius. "O my incomparable daughter!"

"Father!" cried Euprepia, blus.h.i.+ng and indignant. "But let me hurry on with my wretched tale. In proportion as the Emperor's affection became more marked, h.e.l.ladius, hitherto so buoyant and serene, became a visible prey to despondency. Some scornful beauty, I deemed, was inflicting on him the tortures he had previously inflicted upon me, and, cured of my unhappy attachment, and entirely devoted to my Imperial lover, I did all in my power to encourage him. He received my comfort with grat.i.tude, nor did it, as I had feared might happen, seem to excite the least lover-like feeling towards me on his own part."

"Euprepia," he said only two days ago, "never in this Court have I met one like thee. Thou art the soul of honour and generosity. I can safely trust thee with a secret which my bursting heart can no longer retain, but which I dread to breathe even to myself. Know first I am not what I seem, I am a woman!" And opening his vest--"

"We know all about that already," interrupted Photinius. "Get on!"

"If thou knowest this already, father," said the astonished Euprepia, "thou wilt spare me the pain of entering further into h.e.l.ladia's affection for Basil. Suffice that it was impa.s.sioned beyond description, and vied with whatever history or romance records. In her male costume she had accompanied the conqueror of the Bulgarians in his campaigns, she had fought in his battles; a gigantic foe, in act to strike him from behind, had fallen by her arrow; she had warded the poison-cup from his lips, and the a.s.sa.s.sin's dagger from his heart; she had rejected enormous wealth offered as a bribe for treachery, and lived only for the Emperor. 'And now,' she cried, 'his love for me is cold, and he deserts me for another.

Who she is I cannot find, else on her it were, not on him, that my vengeance should alight. Oh, Euprepia, I would tear her eyes from her head, were they beautiful as thine! But vengeance I must have. Basil must die. On the third day he expires by my hand, poisoned by the cup which I alone am trusted to offer him at the Imperial banquet where thou wilt be present.

Thou shalt see his agonies and my triumph, and rejoice that thy friend has known how to avenge herself.'

"Thou seest now, father, in how frightful a difficulty I am placed. All my entreaties and remonstrances have been in vain: at my threats h.e.l.ladia merely laughs. I love Basil with my whole heart. Shall I look on and see him murdered? Shall I, having first unwittingly done my friend the most grievous injury, proceed further to betray her, and doom her to a cruel death? I might antic.i.p.ate her fell purpose by slaying her, but for that I have neither strength nor courage. Many a time have I felt on the point of revealing everything to her, and offering myself as her victim, but for this also I lack fort.i.tude. I might convey a warning to Basil, but h.e.l.ladia's vengeance is unsleeping, and nothing but her death or mine will screen him. Oh, father, father! what am I to do?"

"Nothing romantic or sentimental, I trust, dear child," replied Photinius.

"Torture me not, father. I came to thee for counsel."

"And counsel shalt thou have, but it must be the issue of mature deliberation. Thou mayest observe," continued he with the air of a good man contending with adversity, "how weak and miserable is man's estate even in the day of good fortune, how hard it is for purblind mortals to discern the right path, especially when two alluring routes are simultaneously presented for their decision! The most obvious and natural course, the one I should have adopted without hesitation half-an-hour ago, would be simply to let h.e.l.ladia alone. Should she succeed--and Heaven forbid else!--the knot is loosed in the simplest manner. Basil dies--"

"Father!"

"I am a favourite with his sister-in-law," continued Photinius, entirely unconscious of his daughter's horror and agitation, "who will govern in the name of her weak husband, and is moreover thy mistress. She recalls me to Court, and all is peace and joy. But then, h.e.l.ladia may fail. In that case, when she has been executed--"

"Father, father!"

"We are exactly where we were, save for the hold thou hast established over the Emperor, which is of course invaluable. I cannot but feel that Heaven is good when I reflect how easily thou mightest have thrown thyself away upon a courtier. Now there is a much bolder game to play, which, relying on the protection of Providence, I feel half disposed to attempt. Thou mightest betray h.e.l.ladia."

"Deliver my friend to the tormentors!"

"Then," pursued Photinius, without hearing her, "thy claim on the Emperor's grat.i.tude is boundless, and if he has any sense of what is seemly--and he is what they call chivalrous--he will make thee his lawful consort. I father-in-law of an Emperor! My brain reels to think of it. I must be cool.

I must not suffer myself to be dazzled or hurried away. Let me consider.

Thus acting, thou puttest all to the hazard of the die. For if h.e.l.ladia should deny everything, as of course she would, and the Emperor should foolishly scruple to put her to the rack, she might probably persuade him of her innocence, and where wouldst thou be then? It might almost be better to be beforehand, and poison h.e.l.ladia herself, but I fear there is no time now. Thou hast no evidence but her threats, I suppose? Thou hast not caught her tampering with poisons? There can of course be nothing in writing. I daresay I could find something, if I had but time. Canst thou counterfeit her signature?"

But long ere this Euprepia, dissolved in tears, her bosom torn by convulsive sobs, had become as inattentive to her parent's discourse as he had been to her interjections. Photinius at last remarked her distress: he was by no means a bad father.

"Poor child," he said, "thy nerves are unstrung, and no wonder. It is a terrible risk to run. Even if thou saidest nothing, and h.e.l.ladia under the torture accused thee of having been privy to her design, it might have a bad effect on the Emperor's mind. If he put thee to the torture too--but no! that's impossible. I feel faint and giddy, dear child, and unable to decide a point of such importance. Come to me at daybreak to-morrow."

But Euprepia did not reappear, and Photinius spent the day in an agony of expectation, fearing that she had compromised herself by some imprudence.

He gazed on the setting sun with uncontrollable impatience, knowing that it would s.h.i.+ne on the Imperial banquet, where so much was to happen. Basil was in fact at that very moment seating himself among a brilliant a.s.semblage.

By his side stood a choir of musicians, among them Euprepia. Soon the cup was called for, and h.e.l.ladia, in her masculine dress, stepped forward, darting a glance of sinister triumph at her friend. Silently, almost imperceptibly to the bulk of the company, Euprepia glided forward, and hissed rather than whispered in h.e.l.ladia's ear, ere she could retire from the Emperor's side.

"Didst thou not say that if thou couldst discover her who had wronged thee, thou wouldst wreak thy vengeance on her, and molest Basil no further?"

"I did, and I meant it."

"See that thou keepest thy word. I am she!" And s.n.a.t.c.hing the cup from the table, she quaffed it to the last drop, and instantly expired in convulsions.

We pa.s.s over the dismay of the banqueters, the arrest and confession of h.e.l.ladia, the general amazement at the revelation of her s.e.x, the frantic grief of the Emperor.

Basil's sorrow was sincere and durable. On an early occasion he thus addressed his courtiers:

"I cannot determine which of these two women loved me best: she who gave her life for me, or she who would have taken mine. The first made the greater sacrifice; the second did most violence to her feelings. What say ye?"

The courtiers hesitated, feeling themselves incompetent judges in problems of this nature. At length the youngest exclaimed:

"O Emperor, how can we tell thee, unless we know what thou thinkest thyself?"

"What!" exclaimed Basil, "an honest man in the Court of Byzantium! Let his mouth be filled with gold immediately!"