Fabiola : or, The church of the catacombs - Digital Repository Services

costliest robes, and to seek from her caskets the richest pearls.
While one was occupied in preparing the rouge, another was
powdering richly with gold dust, according to the fashion of the
times, her raven hair, until it had attained a reddish hue. A
slave passed even Atticus without a token of respect, so great
was her haste in carrying to her mistress, sandals embroidered
with the finest pearls a sign that the toilet duties would soon
terminate. But as the blooming girl, desired to please still more
by her natural charms, than by her ornaments, she left on the
renowned cosmetic of bread and milk, with which she covered
her face every night before retiring to rest, until her toilet was
completed, contrary to the usual custom. Atticus concluded,
when he saw the slave carrying his daughter's sandals, that the
important task was finished. He then thought of complying
with the earnest entieaties of Metellus, and led him to his daughter's
chamber.
Conceive her terror, when she heard loud steps xipon the
stairs! A slave hurried to the door, to stop the entrance of the
guest, but he, driven on by exhausted patience, to see his long
chosen one, forced the slave aside, and stood before the horror-
Btricken Chrysophora. The terrified slaves, instead of gathering
round their mistress to screen her from his view, concealed
themselves in the remotest corners of the room. There stood the
vain Chrysophora gorgeously attired, with the fatal paste
hanging in fragments from her lovely countenance, showing here
and there a strange contrast, between the delicacy of her com-
plexion, and the grey hue of the cracked and dried-up cosmetic,
which stubbornly adhered to the right cheek, to the forehead,
and round the left eye.
Her heaving bosom betrayed the passion that raged within.
Her eyes, or rather eye, for the left was half concealed behind
its casement of dried bread and milk, flashed with rage. At
length her tongue found utterance, and her wounded pride sought
consolation in declaring, that she would recall her promise, and
break the contract.
We see that even in this hour of dire humiliation, her woman's
tact did not wholly desert her. She feared that this discovery
would lessen the esteem of Metellus, and furnish a plea for break-
ing the contract. So she took care, in the midst of her confusion,
to threaten the dismissal of her lover, when she thought he was
likely to dismiss her, and it required all the flowery eloquence of
an Atticus, to make clear to her, the folly of her resolution.
Metellus' cool deliberating character took advantage of the
confusion. He enjoyed a privilege which any Roman would
have envied, that of seeing his bride before marriage, and seeing
her too in an unguarded moment. Her majestic form was his
beau-ideal of perfection, and the visible portions of her charming
countenance, exceeded his most sanguine expectations; so that,
making every allowance for the little ebullition of temper he had
just witnessed, he concluded that he had the greatest reasons to
congratulate himself on the choice he had made. Having now
fully satisfied his curiosity, he put on an embarrassed air, and
making an humble apology for the intrusion, left his affianced
lady to finish her toilet, and to distribute due castigations
amongst her trembling slaves.
After this dilemma, the ceremony of the betrothal was completed
by Metellus placing a ring on the third finger of his future
bride's left hand; for the ancients believed that a nerve
passed from that finger to the heart.
A day in the coming June was decided on for the nuptials, as
that month was regarded as the most fortunate of all the year.
The haughty bride attired herself on that day, commensurate
with her youth and rank and the solemnity of the occasion.
She wore, according to the custom of the Greeks, a long white
robe that fell in rich folds, confined at the waist with a woolen
girdle. Her feet were provided with sandals brought from
Morocco. Her hair parted into six long curls, was beautifully
interwoven with wreaths of flowers, and her entire dress was
completed by a rose-tinted veil, which fell
majestic
gracefully over her
form.
The marriage ceremony was performed in her father's house,
at El is.
LTD I A.
Sacrifices were offered to the goddess Hera, and the gall of the
victims was thrown away, as a sign that all bitterness was to be
banished from this union.
The marriage was confirmed in the presence of several wit-
nesses, after which the guests partook of the wedding feast.
There was one sad heart amongst them, that of the aged At-
ticus. To the left of the table where he sat, was a cover for one,
which remained untouched during the feast: it was that of his
departed son, whose place at table, although he had been many
years dead, remained unoccupied. There is so much that is
touching in this trait of Atticus' character, that even the historian
Lucius, who loved to dip his arrows into the sour dregs of
Attica Sarcasm, here would have refrained from it. A custom
was still observed amongst the Romans, which descended from
the ancients who, as it is known, robbed the Sahines of their
daughters. Therefore in imitation of this, the bride was taken
off during the feast. In some cities this custom is still practiced.
Young girls accompanied the bride to her chariot, one of
whom carried a distaff, to remind her that spinning and household
affairs are the proper portion of a matron.
The festivities commenced the following day, at the house of
Metellus, in Athens. The bride herself received presents from
her friends, and began to enter on her duties as mistress of the
house. The old Hellenic principle was also to be observed by her:
that it was for the man to speak and have authority, while the
woman's duty was to devote herself to her husband and chil-
dren, and to superintend the domestic arrangements.
The bride now took the name of Chrysophora Attica Metella,
or for brevity, Metella. But with her name she did not lose her
desire for knowledge, which she had sought after from her child-
hood. She knew how to unite it, in a fitting manner, with the
duties of her state.
Time spared Metella's youthful charms, but for a few years.
Her beauty faded, and various misfortunes told her but too soon,
that man's life is ephemeral, and that he cannot with certainty,
count on the morrow. Still her desire to please was nearly as
ardent as before; but she sought to gratify it in another form.
As she could no longer boast of her personal advantages, she en-
deavored, by the depth of her knowledge, and by the greatness
of mind, to attract admiration and as riches came to ;
her assist-
ance, she soon had numerous friends, who enjoyed the luxuries
of her table, and bestowed in return, what to her was more agree-
able, their unqualified eulogies. There was scarcely a lady in
Athens so much renowned for learning. She not only read the
works of all the poets and philosophers of Greece, but also studied
them under the careful guidance of the best masters, and
above all of her renowned father. Later on, many troubles
crossed her path; first, she lost her beloved parent, who had
passed the remnant of his clays partly m Kephisia, where he
possessed a magnificent estate, and partly in his birth-place,
Marathon. Her husband quickly followed.
Lucius, a very talented and excellent youth, was the only fruit
of this marriage. He had attained his fifteenth year, when he
was called on, according to custom, to perform the most melan-
choly of all filial duties to hold, with averted face, the funeral
torch, and set fire to the pile on which his father's remains were
to be consumed. His mother deeply felt the loss of her husband,
for although he had little taste for learning, still itneverdisturbed
the harmony that existed between them. Scarcely a week passed
that the faithful wife did not go to the " Sacred Street," or
"
Cemetery" to adorn a tomb, on which was an inscription beginning
with the words: " Pause, O Traveler! "and which covered
the urn that contained the ashes of her lamented husband.
These bitter blows of fortune, proved fruitful towards the de-
velopment of her soul. From this time, her former longing to
shine in learned conversations and disputes, considerably les
sened; and a strong desire awoke within her, to ornament her
future life, through noble works of virtue, which somehow
seemed to her, brighter and higher in value, than learning. This
great desire had only lately inspired her soul. We find here in
Metella three developments of character, and who does not often
discover these changes through life? First there' was the love of