CHAPTERS XXVI-VIII

XXVI.

– Kornel… He is still alive….

Despite my tears, I had been able to read the confirmation of my words in his face. His blue-and-grey look was not icy any more….As I went on scrutinizing him through my eyelashes, I grew aware that he was gradually discovering each detail of everything I had gone through a few hours before while Cornelia, Portia, Marcia and the High Vestal were raising their thoughts to Bona Dea… Later on, I would be informed that Lucius Cornelius Sulla’s daughter had promised the Goddess the erection of a pavilion or monument in her villa at Cumae in return for my coming back into life….Gods, she’s really some kind of second mother for me.

–No, Calpurnia, do not regret it… You can’t change the course of events. It’s obvious that you may have felt hatred. What else can you do when… you are betrayed by the man you love by giving another woman what legitimately belongs to you, mainly when that… woman (so to call her)can show him a much more impressive promising face than this little life you can offer for… his old age? No, his idea about living is quite different. No wonder, Calpurnia…How on earth can you know him deeply if your real life as a married woman has only lasted days, no matter how many years have gone by since the wedding date? Do you think he means to age at the pace imposed by time? I don’t deny that he might love life: otherwise, you would not have witnessed that scene you have just attended. Calpurnia, my sweet beautiful friend …Your husband goes … where he thinks destiny drives him….according to his….unique personality (this is out of question). He is unlike any other more or less ambitious patrician who would dream of a safe quite elderly age. … Calpurnia, I never assured you that you would recover your husband. My only purpose was to encourage you into learning how to strengthen yourself in order to face what awaits you… I know he has an important place among your emotions, This is the most delicate aspect. No doubt about it….

For the first time since I first met him I discovered hopelessness on that face, where some beard was already long but not enough to be braided.

–Frankly speaking, I would like to have seen Lucius Calpurnius face to face. How much will he have changed, this offspring of….? I am so sorry, Calpurnia… It’s unforgivable of me, as I am being your guest here…. Well, once again I remind you not to worry about that reaction you had. You are no high-standard necromancer or such a naturally perverse being so as to have caused that evil you fear. You had better take care of yourself and not let this remorse destroy you… You are very important for more than one person, little Calpurnia… Cornelia will keep me informed and let me know if you wish to see me…

She shook my hand with fatherly tenderness. I noticed that he had restrained himself from caressing my messy wet curls. Luckily, he silently left before he could read it in my eyes, how my heartbeat was speeding up.

XXVII

I spent most of the time lying on my lectus, well covered though it was still hot, notwithstanding it was almost mid autumn. Unlike what had been usual of him for years, my father would visit me every evening, alarmed not only by that past experience that I had successfully got over but also because of that absent, even lifeless air about me. Even though I felt unable to describe what was happening inside me, I was worried that he might have had news on what was happening there in Alexandria and also, I am sure, of those constant rumours about you and….

–That little schemer who aimed at restoring the old pharaohs …. Though, in fact, she isn’t more ambitious than her sister Arsinoe….What else could be told about that aberrational custom of theirs, unnatural marriages? Cornelia, I hope that my son-in-law won’t get into trouble inside that degenerated atmosphere, not to mention that net of sinister palace officers who handle their monarchs’ will just as Egyptian priests used to more than one thousand years ago. No, I don’t think his….arrogance may lead him to ruin our Roman world. Sorry, my child, but I can remember him as such a young man, giving his funeral speech in memory of his aunt …. Why on earth should he have to announce that his lineage traces back to Aphrodite herself? Not even did his father himself, who consecrated Venus as his protector, dare doing anything like that… I wonder how he would have reacted ….

Obviously, he could not make out what Cornelia’s smile was hiding

–There are those who think that the fire at Bellona’s temple is the Goddess’ answer to the arrogance of New Alexander, as you call him…. Leaving superstition apart, Calpurnia, you know that our respective son and husband arouses mixed feelings among Romans: on the one hand, there is the rabble: they haven’t forgotten those splendid ludi he organized as an aedile… Neither they nor we, who had to pay for them by means of scandalous loans. Dead Crasus and patient Balbus know that better than me. But there are still a great amount of Romans, both patricians and plebeians, who believe in good, old noble Republic which has made our hills become what we see today, the old virtus spread into half the world as an example to follow, being able to enjoy an immense sea which is entirely ours. The same Republic, which ended up with Carthaginian threat and Etruscan supremacy. These Romans always supported optimates, no matter what may be told. Hasn’t Marcia told you that her domus has become a pilgrimage place?

We all exchanged silent astonished looks.

–It has almost turned into a sort of sanctuary in Cato’s memory since we had news about what happened in Pharsalus. You know, there is no exact information on what has become of the last mirror of Roman austerity and loyalty to his principles. Therefore, people tend to sublimate this kind of personalities. It is said that strangers constantly come near the entrance and sit around in silence, without any offending intention. They stay silent, absorbed, as if looking inside themselves…. Marcia has refused to expel them and, through her father, has even given orders that no-one alien to the house might use violence against them. Marcius Philipus, as you can imagine, finds it all that “ bizarrely amusing”, according to his own words. What else can you expect of an Epicurean view about Stoics? Should that thing go too far, let’s hope that Antonius won’t intervene…

Antonius, by the way, was who had given him such accurate information about Alexandria and had also confirmed that you were sound and safe. And had also told him something that had deeply moved him, more than his face could show: the serious damage inflicted on the Library….

– Notwithstanding all, Lucius Calpurnius, that book collection you keep in your villa in Herculaneum may be the most important in the world after that in Alexandria. Perhaps you are one of the few people who should not lament it

My father remained in silence for a moment.

–I can’t complain, Cornelia, but you never have enough… However, I still dream that, on his return, my son-in-law might bring me a considerable collection of papyri. He very often spoke about his interest in setting up a public library in Rome… Among other projects, like the new forum, the new basilica in honour of gens Iulia, the temple of Clemency (in fact, erected as a homage to his own generosity)… and that devoted to his…divine ancestor. But….How on earth didn’t you know anything about it… Calpurnia, my child….

Immediately, astonishment gave way to compassion in their eyes.

XXVIII

After quite a long convalescence (I couldn’t tell how many days!), one day I received Marcia and Portia’s usual visit. But this time they looked extremely anguished.

–That ….unmentionable, obscene entertainer of endless ludi….He even has the intention of confiscating our house, as well as many Pompeius’ followers’ goods so as to put them to auction. No wonder both he and his accomplices, Fulvia and his friends from Gens Clodia, are willing to catch as much as they can… and, therefore, guarantee themselves all that indecent lavish they can afford at Baiae for the rest of their lives… One day they will certainly fall…I know my father and his memory will remain for centuries but they….

–One day will come, Portia, in which patricians will recover old Roman principles and all that madness will be left for newly rich liberti ,for instance….

Both women’s reddened eyes watched me with astonishment. They exchanged glances discreetly.

–What about all those… strangers who, sunk within their thoughts, sit down around your house?

A shadow of bright surprise enlightened that blurred look.

–They have become tens of visitors, Calpurnia…. They don’t even accept to be comforted with food, though they may spend hour after hour in that sort of … prayer, lethargy? One of them told me that they devote themselves to try to get their minds merged into one so that it may spring up… some kind of animated force that would flow and reach our remote fathers so that they help ….my husband to hold on as a bastion of Roman integrity….

– I will settle you in here. – I knew I had to be resolute at that moment. – No matter who I may be and that this is Domus Publica. You know that there is plenty of room and, besides, the vestals are fully familiarized with your presence.

Anyway, I was conscious of my unavoidable being destined to divorce. Why should I need to be obsessed in showing that neurasthenic discretion?

–Provided that you really want to stay here, of course….

-Dear Calpurnia, we would certainly love that. We’d do the same for you. But it’s so hard that this… swine … Don´t put on such a frightened face, Marcia! I speak out what most Palatinians think of Antonius… It’s immoral that he the rest of his herd should sponge on my father’s house, a place which is becoming almost a sanctuary for many Romans….

“Even your husband’s brightness will fade as time goes by, Calpurnia… But Marcus Portius Cato will remain for hundreds of years….”

–I think, nevertheless, those people will go on gathering around my house … and they will increase day after day… They don’t know anything about my father’s fate, whether he may live or not. And this obviously makes a myth of him.

–But do we really know anything about what is he doing now?

Marcia’s flooding eyes sunk on her friend’s shoulder. Portia’s unshed tears twinkled among her eyelashes. After two or three minutes, Marcia raised her face.

–We should join them, Portia. At least a short while everyday…. This will give us strength …to us and to him, through all these who worship him.

–Marcia, my sweet Marcia … how lucky my father is to have you!

That aggressive Portia of only a few minutes earlier had turned into a model of female tenderness

–No, Calpurnia, thanks for your kindness, but it wouldn’t be reasonable of yours to come with us. The Great Man’s wife, you know, must be a public example of virtue….

CHAPTER XXV

XXV

Calpurnia… a blow, almost a whistle down below, tinged with my name, a female echo… Cornelia?....Maybe … Who was Cornelia? This name probably had no sense for me up here…The only thing that seemed to count was that ethereal flow which I knew it wasn’t me.… I knew … Perhaps I imagined… guessed….Hovering in that uncertain air, not even aroused by some breeze or that hot wind that sometimes flogs Southern summers. No, it was something you couldn’t touch, flowing onwards… Mother… I cannot hear you as I used to…Why can’t I feel you? Perhaps this lifeless being is no longer able to be shaken by your force. … No, I cannot face it myself all alone, lost within this….How would I call it? Maybe now that hope of fertility has definitely run away from me her presence has no sense anymore…Yes… it might like what Gallic priests say, that the immaterial body, after getting rid of the corresponding physical being, wanders around until another one absorbs it, as some Greeks thought?... Maybe… yes, yes… You, my lord, could even be there, waiting for me, hovering somewhere….You? ...Will I be able to recognize that flow of force that you are… could be now? And then…? If we are not bound to incarnate in another … person…or animal…might we be destined to remain here merged inside this immense invisible intangible stream…? Didn’t our priests or sibyls want to tell us about this , such as ghastly thing, to keep hanging on something, such an airy thing, who knows… till when….? What about if our … fluxes… would never meet? Why did I take that for granted? Why don’t fear or anxiety take hold of me, as I would have expected…? Yes, it must be like that, this not-being… despite all...Sibyl…Mother…. If only I could bid him farewell… or maybe it was you, my husband, who somehow had felt me throughout this…space...in which I…was floating.... or maybe flowing? Suddenly something seemed to vibrate within that flow which was my trembling being… I knew I was not able to see but I thought I might perceive something almost visually…something that was approaching though this waving flow… Could it be Charon’s boat? It certainly reminded me of a vessel… But it did not give off that subtly ethereal, uncanny scary force that would have been expected of it. It started to appear among my perceptions as some kind of…solid (?) reality. Majestic-like…. Even dazzling. Its sails could be like huge purple-and-gold tapestries… Its poles, ivory and chryselephantine… Who knows if, after all, my disembodied being had finally decided to leave that … undefined place, so as to return to that inert body of mine which would then be suffering ill people’ usual restless dream.. However that bizarre vision in gold, ivory and purple was absurdly tinged with this uneasiness that infected my heartbeat, as I had grown aware it was no simple dream, this what was happening right there…That quiver, fleshy, panting and wet, had got hold of my ability to feel, which I kept intact… No, no incarnated fertile Mother Goddess was presiding that exulting brightness of fruitful blood... but some kind of out-of-measure ruthless cunning, proper of a serpent, like a big sacred cobra or Apophis, the magical Egyptian snake….feeding on the sacred seed from the other side of the world, that which comes from another face of the Goddess, that of Fruitful Beauty and Sensuousness, now incarnated in her favourite son, the future Roman king that is wedding the Keeper of Divine Fertile Force, the queen of the big river, which makes her realm fruitful. All of it was growing more and more evident, like those dark nipples, caressed by those hands whose lines, veins, long fingers were as mine as my own body, like that frantic shaking , aroused by that same wet warmth filling each void of your being that so many times had made me lose control… No, I cannot lose it now… Some merciless dry breath got through my disembodied being, some kind of serene wrath that I knew I had to use right then. Had I been prepared just to face this? Yes, perhaps this was the second step to follow… No, I could not invoke the Sibyl to beg protection and resilience… I could only look within my bodiless being for enlightening…. Kornel… no…no… I suddenly thought I had to concentrate my thoughts where that fertile motherly sprout remained hidden, though misty and barren, perhaps petrified within that abyss that I was then… That last remainder of fruitfulness and physical deliverance that I had experienced so many months before rose up before me, as solid as your firm hands ascending on my thighs and the acrid smell of body juices…and that long conversation we both had till dawn… Kornel…… standing before the atrium of that temple on those sea wave-washed stairs…. waiting for you… maybe through myself? But it was not that bearded mask with red golden braids but those noble chiselled features, so similar to those you find in any bust of marble or porphyry stone, But so alive now that I could almost touch the blood beating under the carved cheekbones and the vigorous arms that could be perceived through that tunic which had been dyed in all the colours of the forests. I suddenly thought to be regaining my fleshiness. That ardent stream coming from my womb, where your heir should have sprung, making me speedily flow towards that eerie blue-and-silver look which was scrutinizing my belly, as if trying to possess it in the only way available at that moment? Wasn´t it really solid, that vigorous virility running through my body? Wasn’t it that, your blue-grey look, ecstatic, almost puzzled to find me there? No, those tiny dark breasts weren’t mine. Nor that voice, either low howling or childish laughter, almost calculatingly musical, exhausted by that desire….which was really mine… and that I felt concentrated in the bottom of my being and then waving upwards, now menacingly intense, dark…. A serpent which, dart-like, went through that womb, piercing that virility which was filling it up and that newly-begotten life sprout within that cave which had momentarily been consecrated to the goddess of sensuousness and plenty… No, mother, no, no… Don’t let this that they are making come to life… Mother, goddess, lady…Do not allow the goddess to incarnate within her… It would be a sacrilege… Do not consent that none of the three succeed in what is being engendered! No… Cut it down right now…

Your eyes looked frightened. Had they recognized another living force in that look which was facing yours? Maybe the face of the Divine Mother, which Romans don’t worship, the Crone, the Bringer of Death and Lady of the Underworld? Were you facing Her in myself, just discovered, or was it that small fleshy thing whose occult nature you were beginning to unveil? It was then when some intangible shiver started running through my being while I was beginning to realize what I had unchained. I could appreciate that icy sparkling which veiled your eyes.. Gods, was this what I had been destined to….? Some heavy dark fog seemed to swallow me at the same pace I felt myself more and more reduced.. No, no…I couldn’t let myself be taken away this way…Mother, mother, mother….

–Calpurnia… my child!!! Thank you, Bona Dea, thank you, My Lady, for taking her back to us…

Cornelia’s salty tears were mixing with the sweat which damped my unravelled hair on the pillow. Or were they my father’s, whose face, unexpectedly ashen, I felt so near?