BOOK THE FOURTH
10. Chapter X
(continued)
'Yes,' said he, striding to and fro his solitary chamber--'yes, the law that
gave me the person of my ward gives me the possession of my bride. Far
across the broad main will we sweep on our search after novel luxuries and
inexperienced pleasures. Cheered by my stars, supported by the omens of my
soul, we will penetrate to those vast and glorious worlds which my wisdom
tells me lie yet untracked in the recesses of the circling sea. There may
this heart, possessed of love, grow once more alive to ambition--there,
amongst nations uncrushed by the Roman yoke, and to whose ear the name of
Rome has not yet been wafted, I may found an empire, and transplant my
ancestral creed; renewing the ashes of the dead Theban rule; continuing in
yet grander shores the dynasty of my crowned fathers, and waking in the
noble heart of Ione the grateful consciousness that she shares the lot of
one who, far from the aged rottenness of this slavish civilization, restores
the primal elements of greatness, and unites in one mighty soul the
attributes of the prophet and the king.' From this exultant soliloquy,
Arbaces was awakened to attend the trial of the Athenian.
The worn and pallid cheek of his victim touched him less than the firmness
of his nerves and the dauntlessness of his brow; for Arbaces was one who had
little pity for what was unfortunate, but a strong sympathy for what was
bold. The congenialities that bind us to others ever assimilate to the
qualities of our own nature. The hero weeps less at the reverses of his
enemy than at the fortitude with which he bears them. All of us are human,
and Arbaces, criminal as he was, had his share of our common feelings and
our mother clay. Had he but obtained from Glaucus the written confession of
his crime, which would, better than even the judgment of others, have lost
him with Ione, and removed from Arbaces the chance of future detection, the
Egyptian would have strained every nerve to save his rival. Even now his
hatred was over--his desire of revenge was slaked: he crushed his prey, not
in enmity, but as an obstacle in his path. Yet was he not the less resolved,
the less crafty and persevering, in the course he pursued, for the
destruction of one whose doom was become necessary to the attainment of his
objects: and while, with apparent reluctance and compassion, he gave against
Glaucus the evidence which condemned him, he secretly, and through the
medium of the priesthood, fomented that popular indignation which made an
effectual obstacle to the pity of the senate. He had sought Julia; he had
detailed to her the confession of Nydia; he had easily, therefore, lulled
any scruple of conscience which might have led her to extenuate the offence
of Glaucus by avowing her share in his frenzy: and the more readily, for her
vain heart had loved the fame and the prosperity of Glaucus--not Glaucus
himself, she felt no affection for a disgraced man--nay, she almost rejoiced
in the disgrace that humbled the hated Ione. If Glaucus could not be her
slave, neither could he be the adorer of her rival. This was sufficient
consolation for any regret at his fate. Volatile and fickle, she began
again to be moved by the sudden and earnest suit of Clodius, and was not
willing to hazard the loss of an alliance with that base but high-born noble
by any public exposure of her past weakness and immodest passion for
another. All things then smiled upon Arbaces--all things frowned upon the
Athenian.
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